A New Dawn Over Devon (61 page)

A Personal Postscript From
the Author

There are many kinds of fiction.

I enjoy writing contemporary fiction, fantasy fiction, and am considering one day attempting a series of futuristic novels. Most of my work, however, including this series you have just completed, would fall into that broad classification known as “historical fiction.”

There is a huge variety of historical fiction types as well. Set within a historical framework, authors write to distinct audiences, attempt to accomplish different purposes, and emphasize a multitude of varied themes. One of the most familiar and prevalent subgenres is “romance” historical fiction, where relationships and romance predominate. There are also “family sagas,” histories of nations and races, church histories, and political histories. Most good historical fiction interweaves many elements together—romance, politics, family struggles, geography, religion, geology, racial and cultural factors, etc.—even though one or two particular themes will usually be elevated above the others.

I love history, I love geology and archaeology and politics, and there are parts of the globe and certain periods within its history that particularly draw my interest. I am like Adam Livingstone in this regard (
A Rift in Time
and
Hidden in Time
)—few things fascinate me more than beginnings. So in my books, many of these disciplines and themes find their way into the narrative.

But there are two things that fascinate me more than all the rest, which I love to explore as much as history itself. One does not usually
find these two components, however, as dominant influences in historical fiction because many readers do not care to pause long enough in their pursuit of the story to think about them. But because they interest
me
, and because I cut my literary teeth on the works of George MacDonald, who also emphasized them, these two features usually tend to pervade the landscape within the stories I tell.

The first is
ideas
.

The second is
personal growth
.

Interwoven within the context of history, ideas and personal growth tell the story of the human drama on the earth far more than romance, geography, politics, or archaeology will ever be capable of doing.

If my fiction had to be categorized into a subgenre of its own, therefore, perhaps I would call it “idea fiction” in which, by confronting
ideas
, by confronting themselves, and by confronting God, the characters in my books
grow
.

That's why I get mail from readers calling my books tedious and boring, and at the same time from others who say they are stimulating and challenging. Some people like to think about ideas, others don't. Just as some people like to read detective stories, others don't. Every genre and subgenre is not for everyone.

But ideas are dangerous things.

In a detective story or romance novel, there's not much to
disagree
with. You may like the story and characters, or not like them. But you're unlikely to get mad at the author as a result. Ideas, on the other hand, are a little hotter to handle. Ideas can, and do, make people mad.

Books such as this, which present certain concepts that lie outside the boundaries of traditional evangelicalism, often rouse controversy and irritated response from readers. Those who respond in such manner to ideas outside their comfort zones invariably frame their objections under the broad charge of “unscriptural.” But as we have seen, the Scriptures can support either side of nearly any debate. Evangelicals take biblical truth no more literally than anyone else. All Christians choose different places where they will read the Bible literally and where they will give interpretation more latitude. Taking the Scriptures “literally,” as is clear from John 12:32 and Philippians 2:10–11, is in the eye of the beholder.

In this series, as noted in the introduction to
Wild Grows the Heather in Devon
, I have been attempting to shed light on a historical period with an emphasis on the
ideas
of that period, namely the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. In the case of the theological dispute between Timothy Diggorsfeld and his denominational leaders, I had hoped—not to argue for or against a particular point of view, for in fact
both
points of view are presented, but—to illuminate a debate which was raging at that time but which western Christendom has largely lost sight of today. It was not and is not my objective to attempt to argue for or against any point of view, but to accurately set the historical climate of the church of that day.

It is the
ideas
that fascinate me, on both sides of many such theological discussions. It was a heated time in the life of the church, and God's people were engaged in debate on a number of issues. I don't mind whether you agree or disagree with Timothy Diggorsfeld. I have tried to articulate his view fairly, as well as the more traditional position, because I am well familiar with the arguments on both sides. But as to a conclusion, I would say, with Diggorsfeld, “I do not know the answer to this scriptural conundrum.” Meanwhile, I continue to pray that the Holy Spirit will give me the mind of Christ.

I am always astonished when I discover how many find ideas such as these threatening, and respond in anger. I never see such a response in the life of our Lord. Jesus was a man of ideas. Hypocrisy angered him, but never ideas. Read through the Gospels with an eye to the controversial statements he made that ran counter to the accepted theology of the first century, and you will find yourself highlighting every page. When you understand the historical climate of the time, Jesus was a figure of
controversial
, even
radical
theology. A man of ideas. Sometimes very unusual ideas.

In T
HE
S
ECRETS
OF
H
EATHERSLEIGH
H
ALL
, the frequently mentioned Scotsman is, of course, George MacDonald, who lived out his later life in Italy almost until his death in 1905. Timothy Diggorsfeld's fictional visit to the renowned Scottish author in the 1890s coincides with the final slowing years of MacDonald's writing productivity.

As always, so many of my own ideas and much of my outlook originate in the writings of MacDonald. I am particularly indebted to him for the idea of the dormant garden coming back to life, as Timothy explained to Amanda. This concept and some of the descriptions of the process came from MacDonald's book,
Paul Faber,
Surgeon—
published by Bethany House as
The Lady's Confession—
and represents one of my favorite MacDonald passages. From that same book comes the powerful idea, as read aloud by Jocelyn, of coining up mammon to do God's work. There are several other such “borrowings” from MacDonald—the surrounding friendship of books and authors, not following a witness with a plan of salvation, the “daystar of understanding,” and the “condition of heart” (obedience), which alone makes comprehension of the Bible possible. Jocelyn's care of Betsy and some of the explanations of it are taken from that of Janet Grant in
Sir Gibbie
—published by Bethany House as
The Baronet's Song
. And the overall theme of relinquishment of an ancient family home is the central theme in MacDonald's book
Castle Warlock
—published by Bethany House as
The Laird's Inheritance
. I hope those who noticed such embedded references to MacDonald, and others I have perhaps forgotten to mention, will take this as my grateful acknowledgment, though I did not interrupt the story by footnoting each one. As C.S. Lewis said, “I never wrote a book in which I did not quote MacDonald.” I recently received a letter from a young man who said, “I do believe MacDonald was close to the heart and passion of Jesus more than any other man I have read or listened to so far.” That statement, it seems to me, sums up with perfect clarity just why Lewis and myself and others find it virtually impossible to write without “quoting” MacDonald every time we turn around.

In
New Dawn Over Devon
, Timothy's experience was modeled after that of George MacDonald himself. After two years in the pulpit of the Congregational Church at Arundel, on the coast of England south of London in the 1850s, MacDonald was urged to resign on the basis of four points: the possibility of animals in heaven, his views on the Sabbath, an expressed hope that provision was made for the heathen after death, and liberalism in his theology. What I have tried to give in this account, therefore, is a historical document of the times.

Despite the attacks which will surely come as a result, I decided to leave these controversial points in this book. I want to challenge you who read my words to exercise maturity of thought and judgment, rather than dismissing them out of hand. But if you are one who has been upset by some of the ideas raised, I am sorry to have been a stumbling block. If this has been difficult for you, then please put my
words aside and return to the Gospels of our Lord. We can never go wrong when we steep ourselves in his life and teachings. And I would urge you to inquire of the Lord whether
he
is himself the author of the annoyance you feel toward what you have read, or whether he might have depths of his divine plan he wants you to explore more deeply. But have no fear—you will not find such controversy in most of my other books. They are written about different historical eras when such ideas as these were
not
at the forefront of people's thinking.

And to those of you who are challenged and stimulated in growth-producing ways by the “idea fiction” I try to provide, and which we have discovered so uplifting in the works of George MacDonald, let me say that we appreciate the words of encouragement many of you send us, sharing your own spiritual inquiries, struggles, journeys, thinkings, doubtings, questionings, and awakenings. I pray for you as I write, and always enjoy hearing about life on the other side of those prayers.

Pray for us too, Judy and me and our family. We, like you, live in the midst of daily weakness, seeking the practical reality of the truth that in our weakness does God give strength. As the church at the turn of the last century was inundated with ideas—evolution, temperance, women's suffrage, universalism, and a host of social issues—the church of today is facing an unprecedented attack on the family. Very few families are unaffected. Perhaps historians will look back on this period and write about the fractured family unit and the impact its fragmentation has had on the church. The most serious result has been to diminish the capacity of today's men and women to understand the concept of God's family, especially his Fatherhood. It was largely in response to this attack that we decided to write the S
ECRETS
OF
H
EATHERSLEIGH
H
ALL
series with the emphasis it has. Other themes might have been more exciting to fashion into a story. But none are more important. We
must
arise and seek our Father.

To the extent it is possible across the miles, through the mysterious yet very real bonds of unity that exist within the body of Christ, we love you and are so grateful for your life-sustaining encouragement in our lives. We truly do draw strength in the knowledge that many of you are praying for us, as we do for you.

How wonderful and remarkable a thing is the unity of our Father's family!

We should all pray, too, for the rest of that family, for the entire body of God's people, that it will be infused with that hunger I spoke of . . . a hunger for all God's truth, God's
whole
truth . . . a hunger, as Paul prayed when writing to the Ephesians, “to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.”

One final point: Heathersleigh Hall, Milverscombe, and the Chalet of Hope are entirely fictional, as are all the characters of the series. If you are interested in Great Britain, especially Scotland, may I suggest my series C
ALEDONIA
:
Legend of the Celtic Stone
and
An Ancient Strife
.

Michael Phillips

Michael Phillips
is a bestselling author with more than seventy of his own titles. In addition, he has served as editor/redactor of nearly thirty more books. He is known as the man responsible for the reawakened interest in George MacDonald of the last thirty years. In addition to the MacDonald titles adapted/edited for today's reader, his publishing efforts in bringing back full-length quality facsimile editions also spawned renewed interest in MacDonald's original work. Michael and his wife, Judy, spend time each year in Scotland, but make their home near Sacramento, California. Visit Michael's website at
www.macdonaldphillips.com
.