Gilead

Marilynne Robinson invites us to honor the precious things

Welcome to By the Books, a newsletter dedicated to capturing and distributing wisdom from works of classic literature.

Each post will take less than 5 minutes to read, and will feature one great book, including:

• A brief summary

• A distillation of relevant themes

• One actionable insight

Live by the best books, one day at a time.

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“Gilead” by Marilynne Robinson

To my knowledge, I’ve read two Pulitzer Prize winning novels. This is one of them. Frankly, I don’t know much about the award, but I’ve got the impression it’s supposed to spotlight masterworks of literature.

In the case of Gilead, it does the job.

Written as a letter from an aging preacher, John Ames, to his young son, the novel is set in the small town of Gilead, Iowa, in the 1950s. Ames, diagnosed with a heart condition, knows he doesn't have much time left, so he is writing to leave a legacy, a record of his insights and his memories, for his son to read when he's older. With quiet intensity, and more humor than you’d expect from a book like this, Ames contemplates the grace, redemption, and beauty that have come into full and undeniable focus.

The plot, such as it is, centers on his relationship with God, and his reconciliation with a close friend. It unfolds so slowly you’ll miss it if you’re not paying attention, but if you are, it runs over you like a freight train.

"Theologians talk about a prevenient grace that precedes grace itself and allows us to accept it. I think there must also be a prevenient courage that allows us to be brave—that is, to acknowledge that there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, that precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm."

Actionable Insight*

"Gilead" paints a portrait of ordinary beauty so dazzling it takes your breath away. Through the weary eyes of John Ames, we can see that even in the quietest corners, in the most mundane routines and interactions, there is a profundity and sanctity that defies description.

Perhaps our greatest calling, as human beings, is to learn how to hold the smile of someone we love, the warmth of the sun, the silence of an empty room, each in the moment it is given, a grace that swiftly passes. For these, among countless others, are the "precious things.”

The antidote to almost every spiritual malady is gratitude. But being grateful takes a kind of work unlike all the other work we wear ourselves out doing. It is done in the non-doing. In the sitting still, and in the payment of close, careful attention.

We can’t honor the beauty we don’t notice.

On the other hand, if we hold still and acknowledge whatever grace this moment has to offer, we start to see the whole tapestry unfurl behind and in front of us.

Probably you’ve been missing it. Maybe for a long time. That’s okay. Here it is again, right now.

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*As a lover of literature, I must emphasize that the best way to truly absorb the wisdom of any work of literature is to actually read it, from start to finish, the way the author intended. I hope By the Books will occasionally inspire you to do just that.