Yesterday, I posted a heart-felt tribute about the moving experience of reading Christopher Hedges very worthwhile rumination on the ten commandments called Losing Moses on the Freeway. You may know of Hedges for his powerful, wise, and deeply moral critique of the seductions of warfare ideologies, War is a Force That Gives Us Meaning. Both are important works, and Losing Moses was surprisingly entertaining.
I noted that it didnÕt do serious, let alone Christian, exegesis and, as a journalistic memoir, was rooted less in the authority of the text than in the telling of the tales. I still loved the book, and found it wonderfully helpful and healing for me. I promised to explain more, which I will do, soon.
But, so friends and visitors know that Hearts & Minds does carry more standard Bible study approaches, let me just note a couple of books on the Ten Commandments that have crossed our counter lately.
I Am the Lord Your God: Christian Reflections on the Ten Commandments Carl Braaten, Christopher Seitz, et al (Eerdmans) $22.00 A grand and serious collection by some of the most provocative theologians, ethicists, and Biblical scholars today—Rusty Reno, Ephraim Radner, Seitz, David Bentley Hart, William Cavanaugh, Gilbert MeilanderÉpastoral, radical, aware of postmodern culture, ecumenical, orthodox. Good, meaty stuff.
The Ten Commandments: A Reciprocity of Faithfulness William Brown, editor (Wesminister/John Knox) $35.00 Again, a meaty, serious, nearly academic theological set of reflections by some very important writers. Walter Brueggemann, John Barton, George Lindbeck, Nancy Duff, Patarick Miller. AND, the seminal authors of the church, Augustine, Aquinas, Luther, Calvin. Some of these pieces are very helpful and some are nearly classic.
Do We Still Need the Ten Commandments? John Timmerman (Augsburg) $13.99 A lovely, helpful book by a professor at Calvin College. The blurb from Lewis Smedes says, ÒLike no other book on the commandments. Beautiful, tender, poignant, strong.Ó

The Truth About God: The Ten Commandments in the Christian Life William Willimon & Stanley Hauerwas (Abingdon) $11.00 Think what you may about this tag-team of Methodist trouble-makers, they are committed to a close reading of the Biblical text and proclaiming it as truth to be lived. Very nice for small groups or personal devotional reading.
Smoke on the Mountain: An Interpretation of the Ten Commandments Joy Davidman (Westminister) $18.95 No, I did not say ÒSmoke on the Water.Ó And yes, it is that Joy Davidman. C. S. Lewis himself wrote the forwardÑhe calls her Miss Davidman, at that point. Ha! Tell your cool Lewis friends about this one.
Other serious exegetes do good work and there are commentaries and small group discussion guides and all kind of resources for those wanting to explore the Biblical law. We commend them, of course. The ones above are a nice little sampling for you to file away for when you may want to embark on such a study.
For now, though, recall my enthusiasm for Chris Hedges. It is a very, very wonderful book.
Here is an extensive interview by the feisty and very conservative John Whitehead. It is a good interview and an fabulous and very intriguing website and I think you will find it worthwhile.(Browse through his postings on the arts, politics, etc. Fascinating and thoughtful worldview stuff.) Hedges, though, in his book, is much, much more elequent, turning remarkable phrases and telling unforgettable stories. The grace of the prose and the power of the narrative is lost in the interview.
Here is another link with a favorable review, and a way to click to read a brief excerpt.
Mess around the internet if you have timeÑthere are critiques, video interviews, the works. Just donÕt buy it elsewhere. There has to be a ÒThou Shalt NotÓ about that, eh?

I spent nearly all day on Sunday moving around the house and yard reading a book that I just could not put down. I had to slap it onto my lap, though, on occasion, to literally catch my breath. And, truth be told, once to stop bawling. (More on that later.) It is an excellent read, a book written by a man I admire who is a strong writer, and, who, I might as well mention up front, is a former Christian, one with what people call baggage. Now a good-hearted if cynical agnostic of some kind, Christopher Hedges is a graduate of Harvard Divinity School and the son of a good United Methodist pastor. His journey away from Christian faith has been driven, somewhat, it seems, by the bankruptcy and hypocrisy of the sort of liberal theology he studied at Harvard and his understandable disdain for the right wing, materialistic televangelists. (Why a guy as smart as he doesnÕt really grapple with the other forms of orthodox faith is a mystery, a mystery I have been haunted by all day as I read and all day today as IÕve pondered this moving book.)
This new favorite book is called Losing Moses on the Freeway: The Ten Commandments in America (Free Press; $24.00.) Hedges previously wrote the powerful, powerful and very important book called War Is A Force That Gives Us Meaning (Anchor; $12.95) which I gave to my Congressman during a meeting talking during the earliest days of the Iraqi War. That book, expertly crafted, powerfully argued, wonderfully written, makes the case that it is dangerous when a nation elevates war to a national cause whereby it provides cohesiveness, camaraderie, values, direction, meaning. He wisely uses Greek literature—Ulysses and The Iliad, especially—to offer a more limited and tragic view of war. No pacifist, he still has grave warnings of war’s horrors and the seduction that can occur when a nation makes an idol out of the sadnesses of killing. His decades of front-line warfare reporting in places that weÕve all heard on the evening news—harsh places like El Salvador, Kosovo—has permitted him to see more savagery than most people ever have. His ponderings deserve to be read and we are glad that War Is A ForceÉ has gotten rave reviews (and was a finalist for the prestigious National Book Award.)
His new one, on the ways in which the Torah of the Hebrew Scriptures, and the 10 commandments specifically, can help heal a torn and dysfunctional culture, has a marvelous, if often brutal, story at the heart of each chapter, each illuminating someone who struggled with one of the Ten Commandments, someone who lived into it or, more often, was nearly crushed by it. A few of the chapters are fascinating, a few chilling. All make you think. None are what I might call exegeticalÑthe only serious flaw in the book (if he only would have quoted Bruggemann a time or two to help him look at the text.) In fact, occasionally he issues forth a touching little truism (Òthe meaning of this commandment is such and suchÓ) and a traditional Jew or Christian might just sigh, and wonder what about the Bible, really, they teach in liberal seminaries.
For instance, he asserts that the meaning of keeping Sabbath is to love your family, to spend time with your kids. Now that may be a very wise suggestion and, in a deep way, submitting to GodÕs order in the family, rather than speedily pursuing the idol of material success may be a very, very mature insight that is significantly related to this particular command. But to just say that love of family equals Sabbath is just shallow exegesis and ignorant of classic theological reflection. We shouldnÕt be surprised, of course, that an agnostic who writes like a tenderhearted and socially prophetic Unitarian doesnÕt end up with orthodox, Christ-honoring teaching—I remind you that this is not written by a Christian and it certainly not aimed at the Ã’Christian bookstoreÓ market (but oh how I wish the popular and fine authors known in those circles like Lucado, Swindoll, Elderidge or Warren would read him) What we should not, not, not say is that because Hedges isnÕt a solid evangelical, he gets it all wrong. No. In fact, he gets it mostly right; really right. And that is why I want to tell everybody about this rich and provocative book. Why I hope folks check it out of their library or buy it from us, here Like some combination between Jim Wallis and Jonathan Kozol and William Sloane Coffin and Desmond Tutu and Bill Moyers and Abraham Heschel and Anne Lamotte. Okay, skip all that, IÕm not helpingÉ
This great book has deep insight, a powerful narrative drive, sharp social analysis and, on nearly ever page, a reminder that God does not abide idolatry— when we put anything in place of GodÕs ways, we bring distortion and ruin and heartache to our lives, our relationships and our culture. I canÕt wait to tell you more about this moving set of 10 journalistic pieces, each with itÕs own lesson. Check back soon, as IÕll share a bit more about HedgeÕs excellent, emotionally-charged and wise new book.
I think you will enjoy knowing just a bit more about it. I know I have to tell some one.
Losing Moses on the Freeway: The 10 Commandments in America Chris Hedges (The Free Press) $24.00

Passion, purpose, meaning, vocation, calling, career. These are all hot topics nowadays, and we are glad. We have been talking about our human office as history-makers since we first learned the theological phrase Òcultural mandateÓ from Al Wolters and Paul Schrotenbauer. My last blog mentioned our often used, often discussed favorite book, The Call, by Os Guinness. It is a must-read.
Here are some others along those lines. I will briefly tell you if they are more difficult or more lightweight than GuinnessÕ classic.

Here I Am: Now What on Earth Should I Be Doing Quentin Schultze (Baker) $11.99 Give this to any highschool kid you know, any Christian who wonders what the idea of calling is or anybody who wants to see GodÕs hand in every zone of life. Really nice, lots of stories, easy to read.
(I must add another thought, if any publishers or authors are out there reading this: Quint, as he is affectionately called by his enthusiastic students at Calvin, has given us a rare gift here—a truly accessible work, deeply spiritual, interesting and yet packed with insight and solid with substance. Why arenÕt more books this clear, brief, approachable, andÑdare I say it? Ñradical?)
Vocation: Discerning Our Callings in Life Douglas Schuurman (Eerdmans) $20.00 The best study of the subject. His brief description of the discussion between Miroslov Volf and Lee Hardy on the theological/biblical basis for thinking about vocation (Spirit or creation, respectively) is worth the price of admission. Very important for those who want to dig deep into the field.
Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation Parker Palmer (Jossey-Bass) $18.95 A precious little hardcover that is well loved for its contemplative feel and wise guidance. His The Active Life on bringing together spirituality and work is better, I think, with a tip of the hat to Tom Merton.
Callings: Twenty Centuries of Christian Wisdom on Vocation edited by William Placher (Eerdmans) $24.00 This new, huge mama deserves its own full review as it has become the definitive collection on what the best thinkers of the broad church tradition in the West have said on this topic. Arranged chronologically, it has primary source references from the early church, the medieval era, the post-Reformation period and from the contemporary world. We could all benefit from hearing Justin Martyr, Anthanasius or Gregory of Nyssa (and Augustine, of course) in the first section; John Cassian, Bernard of Clairvaux, Aquinas or a Kempis from 500-1500; Luther, Calvin , Theresa or Baxter (and Edwards, Law, Wesley, et cetera) from the era up to 1800Õs; and then, from the modern church, the likes of Kierkegaard, John Henry Newman, Horace Bushnell, Pope Leo XIII, Bonhoeffer, Sayers, BarthÉ These are only a few of the many authors represented here in the 450 pages. A very useful handbook and a great education in practical theology down through the ages. Apparently, the questions of the Purpose Drive Life are not new. And the answers have been diverse, rich, and substantial.
Ethical Ambition: Living a Life of Meaning and Worth Derek Bell (Bloomsbury) $14.95 I couldnÕt put this down! Not written, as many books on this topic are, within the evangelical mold (or, thank goodness, from the positive thinking stuff of climbing the American Dream to be ÒsuccessfulÓ like many ÒleadershipÓ books) this is a serious call by a fellow Christ-follower in the grand tradition of civil right activism and the African-American church. Bell is a renowned legal theorist and tells many heart-wrenching stories of times he took a stand (including at places like Harvard Law School) and had to struggle to balance his ambition and his calling, his principles and his desire for success, his sense of vocation and his desire to be an agent for institutional reform. With all our reformational worldview-ish talk about taking up our callings in the world, there isnÕt enough story-telling going on, stories like this. A powerful dose of honest reality by a kind and good man.

Last night was an absolutely wonderful evening for a late night picnic. After the serious heat here the last few weeks, it was a delight to feel the cooler breeze, to sit behind our home, with the bookstore lights glowing out onto the lovely back yard with huge trees. Our house isn’t well-ordered, we’ve got junk too often laying around in places that would lead the casual observer to think I’ve never heard of beauty or truth, let alone love Calvin Seerveld books. (See this monthÕs review over at the website of Rainbows for a Fallen World to see his invitation to take the aesthetic dimension of life more seriously.)
Still, the grill was on, with my son Micah doing the honors, and we had a casual picnic with a gang of friends of the CCO staffer over at Elizabethtown College, the droll and hilarious and brilliant Derek Melleby (who sometimes blogs at Aslan Is On The Move.) I say the group was friends of his; actually, most are friends of ours, too, since he has driven them the 45 minutes here to the shop on many occasions.
Derek and his wife and some other sharp folks connected to their church have been leading a couple of groups of mostly younger adults through a guided reading of Os Guinness’ The Call: Finding and Fulfilling the Central Purpose in Your Life (Word; $17.99.) You may know that this is one of my all time favorite books, an absolutely essential resource for a deep and balanced whole-life discipleship kind of Christian worldview. Written with insight and grace, the CD lectures are Dr. G at his finest. The book is a must-read. Every church library should have a couple of copies and every pastor should recommend it often.
After reflecting on the sense of vocation that the book celebrates, some of the folks in the study group decided that they would want to spend some time talking intentionally with somebody who embodied these kind of truths, who seemed passionate about calling and intentional about vocation. Beth and I were chosenÑfoolishly, perhapsÑto be the case studies. Derek brought the burgers, others brought the fruit and salad and chips. I made a big deal about the fair trade all-organic coffee and as the air grew chilly we told stories about the store. We remember the hopes and dreams of our young adult years, our prayerful discernment of our own vocation, the struggles of the early years (including everything from fundamentalist customers who thought we were satanic for selling Richard Foster or medieval spirituality, my Marxist buddies who hated our pro-life activism or the death threat we got from the KKK for our window display against racism.) We told of the ups and downs of trying to hone our craft as booksellers and our efforts, such as they are, to be faithful to our convictions in the mundane details of display, accounting, advertising and competition. We listened as they tried to tell us what they thought of Guinness (many had come to hear him when we hosted his lecture in the Spring) and together we pondered how to connect conviction and behavior, faith and work, an authentic Christian worldview and the too-often constricting vision of the Christian Booksellers Association, the publicÕs presumptions about religious books and, more generally, the Christian life.
Of course, we ended up with a digression (that maybe wasnÕt a digression at all) about our favorite books, and most beloved novels, what weÕre reading now.
It was a great night for us—I sometimes think DerekÕs group humors me as I try to wax eloquent about trying to be a somewhat different kind of religious bookstore. Beth and I hope they at least enjoyed the backyard breeze.
A quick question that arose but that we didnÕt explore in detail: in what ways are The Call by Os Guinness and The Purpose-Driven Life by Rick Warren similar or dissimilar? And, further, how do either help fund or energize and sustain a lifestyle that is redemptive in the workaday world, especially if one is working in a non-professional capacity (it isnÕt too hard to think purposefully in light of vocation if one is an inner city lawyer or an heroic teacher or compassionate hospice nurse, of course)? Are there some jobs that are so degrading or mindless that one could hardly think of them as holy callings or filled with purpose? There are serious resources that help answer that, I think, but the night was getting late. Any thoughts?

If you didnÕt read my little intro to this marvelous book yesterday, please scroll back and read those remarks. It is a fine book and it means a lot to me, as does her exceptional other titles. (I gave a link to her website, too, so you could read longer excerpts and view photos of her wild places.) There are some of you wilderness-type-wannabees that will enjoy the vicarious thrill of reading such expert and glorious writing about nature. Even if you arenÕt wild at heart, this is a sweet and good-hearted book, important and insightful. Like her others I mention, itÕs a keeper.
From the forward:

In the green, light-shot sea along the Oregon coast, bullwhip kelp lean toward land on the incoming tides and swirl seaward as the water falls away, never letting go of their grip on the ocean floor. What keeps each plant in place is a holdfast, a fist of knobby fingers that stick to rock with a glue the plant makes from sunshine and salt water, an invisible bond strong enough to hold against all but the worst winter gales. The holdfast is a structure biologists donÕt entirely understand. Philosophers have not even begun to try.
In blue, halogen-lit places of constant movement, so many of us live in a time of separations—the comings and goings at the turning of the century, the airport embraces, the X-ray rooms, loneliness, notes left by the phone. Children grow tall, then restless. Grandparents grow wise, then forget their childrenÕs names. My work takes me from place to place—Ohio, Oregon, Minnesota, Oregon, Alaska, Arizona, British Columbia, Oregon again. Everywhere I go, I pass people who have come from someplace else. We all have left so much behind. Sunday dinners. Front porches. Small certainties. Knowledge of when to plant tomatoes, and where to buy string, and what to do when someone dies. Secret places of safety and meaning—a worn bank beside the creek or a patch of hollyhocks, scratchy with pollen and bees.
We professors, who should be studying connection, study distinctions instead. In white laboratories, biologists find it easy to forget that they are natural philosophers. Philosophers, for their part, pluck ideas out of contexts like worms out of holes, and hold them dangling and drying in bright lights. When people lock themselves in their houses at night and seal the windows shut to keep out storms, it is possible to forget, sometimes for years and years, that human beings are part of the natural world. We are only reminded, if we are reminded at all, by a sadness we canÕt explain and a longing for a place that feels like home.
Sitting on a boulder whitewashed by western gulls, watching the sliding turf, I resolve to study holdfasts. What will we cling to, in the confusion of the tides? What structures of connection will hold us in place? How will we find an attachment to the natural world that makes us feel safe and fully alive, here, at the edge of the water?

From: Holdfast: At Home in the Natural World Kathleen Dean Moore (The Lyons Press) $14.95. Order here.

A year ago I wrote in my monthly column a review that I was pleased with (is it unseemly to say that?) It was a splendid book, well written fun, interesting and a bit sad at times called Pine Island Paradox (Milkweed Editions; $20.00.)
The author, Kathleen Dean Moore, is an outdoorswoman par excellance and obviously spends much time in the backcountry. She writes well—really, really wellÑand tells of her hikes, kayaking adventures, and natural observations so beautifully that I longed for the book not to be finished. In that review I said that I wanted to wait until fall to sit amidst changing leaves and read her earlier book, Holdfast: At Home in the Natural World (published by The Lyons Press; $14.95.) It has been a too-busy year, I have not spent nearly enough time out in GodÕs good creation, and I have not found time or emotional space to get to that book. (Am I the only one that wants the time and mood to be right before I read a certain book?) It has been sitting in my bedroom for a year.
The caring for BethÕs dad these past hard weeks has put me, as IÕve said before, in a melancholy mood, which has directed my reading towards only the most wondrous reflections, beautiful writing, deeply meaningful prose and, yes, nature writers. I am in the middle of a really deep and highly literary collection of intellectual essays entitled A Field Guide To Getting Lost by award-winning Rebecca Solnit (Viking; $ 21.95) which is actually more diverse than I thought when I picked it upÑit is more than just about getting lost on hikes, which is what I heard it was about. (She wrote the acclaimed book Wanderlust: The History of Walking a few years ago.) Interestingly, it blazes through all sorts of reflections and memories—the blue of distance, as she explains—and includes everything from the glamorization of urban ruin in the punk aesthetic of the 80Õs to how someone becomes a Ã’new personÓ in classic captivity narratives (Ã’losing themselvesÓ in their new idenity in a new culture.) It is ponderous and artsy and serious and I read just a chapter a day. Man. But there isnÕt much of a field guide there; more finely tuned cultural criticism, really.
For more about real fields, and real animals, IÕve turned to Holdfast. This, my friends, has suddenly become one of my favorite books of the year! What a read! What a great essayist, a fine botanist, a sentimental family mom, a thoughtful college professor. And what a joy to find someone who is truly able to appreciate the joy of creation, to see the very hand of God in all things, to know her place in the world and long for great connection. It is no accident or mere turn of a phrase that the subtitle mentions being Òat home.Ó And I suppose that is what I am longing for most poignantly, lately. Connection.
The book takes its title from a rather mysterious plantÑa kind of kelp called bullwhip kelpÑthat marine biologists canÕt quit figure out. Moore is so much more eloquent than I, but she starts the book with a luminous bit of prose, telling of the swaying of the kelp with the moving tides, and how it yet holds fast with a rather odd pile of something-or-other affixed with some kind of gunk on the bottom, technically called a holdfast. And so, she is off and running with a metaphor in her pack that means the world. How do we hold fast in a fast moving world? How to we grow and change (and move locations in our mobile society) and yet stay rooted? How can we have progress and tradition, fluidity and stability? You get the point. She does it all with huge nuance, joyful stories, meaningful, meaningful essays, with such insight, I want to emblazon it somehow on my forehead. I wish I could just read out lout half the pieces in here. And have the time to reflect on ordinary stuff as deeply as she.
(One, a rather unusual piece for this collection, is about her dressing up in Halloween costume, pretending to be a child, and it is hilarious with renegade zest and yet offers a frustrating glimpse into the plight of women academics. I know one dear scholar friend who may pee her pants when we send it to her, and then will grit her teeth by the perturbing story near the end.)
This is not, for the record, an intentionally Christian book; the one chapter which most overtly addresses Christian faith is well written and touching, but sadly shallow, it seems to me; a philosophy prof ought to know better. Still, most chapters are mature and precious. If you know anybody who loves nature, who does the wilderness stuff, who enjoys that genre weÕve come to term Ã’nature writingÓ this is truly one of the very, very best. It fits my mood of mourning and yet has been a delight. To see another enjoy her surroundings, holding fast to a high environmental ethic, nurturing in her words a sense of place and yet tell the tales so very nicely– this is a grand treat. Like the hardback Pine Island Paradox that so captured me late last summer, this one has become an all time favorite. I think I am going to start some of it all over again. And this time, take it outside on a rock by the Susquehanna River. Or at least my backyard, under the big maples behind the store. Why not buy the book from us and then tell me where youÕre going to read it? Click here for our order form. I think it would be good for your soul.
To see pictures of Moore, some of her outings and, best, to read some excerpts of her three books, click here for her website. I’ll maybe do an excerpt myself from Holdfast tomorrow.

I hope you don’t mind me commenting on the funeral and the death in our family, one more time. The service today was notable for a couple of reasons, not the least of which, of course, was the stature of the deceased, my wife’s father, Harry H. Gross (1908-2005.)
But also, helpful and interesting to me (and I think I speak for my wife and family, too) was that the pastor, filling in for one who was away, ended up being a guy who was what they used to call a “son of the church.” That is, he grew up with Beth and Debi in that church, saw Beth’s parents as spiritual mentors of sorts, knew their lives and congregation and town, well. His deep knowledge of and care for the situation meant that, even though he was highly liturgical as a well-trained contemporary Lutheran, he was authentic. He got choked up when talking about Harry, choked up when reading the Scriptures of grace, choked up when he assured us that Harry was in the New Jerusalem, choked up at the gravesite, for and with us all. He cared, he loved, his heart was in it, as they say. This is theological and pastoral ministry as it should be. Sad that it seems less common these days.
To wit: a book comment. In my regular review this month (over at the website column, here) I rave about the newly re-issued Rainbows for the Fallen World by H&M friend, Calvin Seerveld.
A newish book by long-time and thoughtful CCM singer-songwriter Michael Card, called A Sacred Sorrow: Reaching Out to God in the Lost Language of Lament (NavPress; $13.99) starts off in the introduction saying that he got a card after 9-11 from Cal Seerveld, asking why it is that so many churches these days have “praise teams” but no one has “lament teams.” He invited Michael to write some suitable laments. Card also says that about that time he read the powerful, powerful, dense and rich book, The Prophetic Imagination by Walter Brueggemann, which has as a major theme the (subversive) power of grief. A note from Seerveld, a book by Brueggemann, and Michael Card started writing. His new book is very, very good.*
I tell you this to set up a story, a story that I can only briefly paraphrase. In the foreward, guest writer Eugene Peterson tells of someone that he didn’t even know offering “preacherish cliches” in response to Peterson crying during his role leading a funeral—the funeral of his own father! A well-intended person who should have known better said something really dumb to Peterson, as if grief, or displayed grief on the part of a pastor, was inappropriate, or that deeply felt hurt could be easily swept away by reciting a Christian truth.
And so, Eugene writes:

This is a magnificently conceived and executed book. Michael Card has saturated himself in the rhythms, music, and truth of our people-of-God ancestors and written a necessary book for all of us Christians (and there are many of us) who have lost touch with our native language of lament, this language that accepts suffering and our freely expressed suffering as the stuff that God uses for our salvation. At-homeness in the language of lament is necessary for expressing our companionship with our Lord as He accompanies us through the ‘valley of the shadow of death’…

Later, Peterson concludes,

So, learning the language of lament is not only necessary to restore Christian dignity to suffering and repentance and death, it is necessary to provide a Christian witness to a world that has no language for and is therefore oblivious to the glories of wilderness and cross.

Peterson is right, it seems to me. Many in our culture, including in our churches, have thin language for this hard work of bereavement, no sure framework to help make sense of it, certainly no sane way to way to construe it as “glory.” I am not sure I do. I know it hurts; I know the gospel is deeply true. And we shall cling to that. And, whenever we can, we shall tell people that Christian faith makes us more human, not less (to quote Charlie Peacocke, in New Way To Be Human) fully able to grieve and hurt, and not disguise our pain in “preacherish cliches.” Therefore, we need help in learning anew to be real in our grief, to affirm the power of lament, and to deal with the dead. That is what we did today. As most of you know, it is hard work. Thanks for writers like Thomas Lynch (who I noted yesterday) and Michael Card who gives us wise and courageous words along the way.

*There are several other good books that have been released in the last year or two about lament, the Psalms of lament, and the theological and pastoral implications of lamentation. Let us know if you want to know of others.

I have some very great news to share about a new book by my friend, Sam Van Eman, whose new book on advertising, and a faithful Christian response, is called On Earth as It Is In Advertising? Moving From Commercial Hype to Gospel Hope and was just released from Brazos ($14.99.) Sam has done workshops on discernment in media and pop culture with college students for years, and this is a very nice guide to the hard work heÕs done. It is one that we feel strongly about and it is (and this is rare, these days) a solid Christian book on a topic about which there really are no other similar books. Kudos to Sam. Way to go. You’ll have to bear with me as I try to tell you about it in a way that is more than commercial hype and which invites you into SamÕs deepest heart: to share gospel hope.
I will tell you about this new book, though, later. As you know, IÕve held the hand of a man as he breathed his last this week; the funeral is tomorrow. (And, I’ve been beaten up in the paper, too, a bit, by those who say I am way wrong to condemn nuking civilian cities, and that such a conviction applied to Hiroshima is anti-veteran. I have drafted a reflection on how my father-in-law, and my own fatherÑboth named Harry, and both proud W.W. II vetsÑhad moral qualms about Hiroshima, based on this historic, Christian-influence of the West: the immunity of civilians. So, I am still thinking about how to give witness to a Christian perspective on the bombing of civilians, wondering how my dad and my father-in-law would speak to this, this week and wishing blog readers would ponder those last couple of posts.) So. I just canÕt quite find the energy to give SamÕs book the authentic enthusiasm it deserves. Order On Earth as it is in Advertising from us right away, IÕd say. But if you need some coaxing, IÕll get to that when I am less pensive.
Similarly, there are other fun and good books that I am itching to tell you about, but, again, canÕt quite work up the energy to sit at the keyboard for long. IÕll have to post often over the next weeksÉ
HereÕs a providential one, though. You may know about my high, high regard for the extraordinary, remarkable and finely crafted books by undertaker/poet Thomas Lynch. For my little rave about The Undertaking: Life Notes from the Dismal Trade and the sequel, Bodies at Motion and at Rest: Essays on Metaphor and Mortality see here. They were the first books I read a few years back after my dadÕs death in a car accident, and they had extra poignancy, then. But they are still top-shelf and among my all time favorite books.
I was browsing through one of my father-in-lawÕs new AARP magazines in his empty living room yesterday and found an insightful article on funerals and their shallowness, these days. (We were, fittingly, in said living room meeting with the pastor to plan the funeral service.) After the second or third line, the writing was so fine that I exclaimed out loud Ã’This has to be by Thomas Lynch.Ó And so it was. I tried to find it on line for a hyperlink, but couldnÕt. He had a cover story a year ago in Christian Century too. Again, no link. He has bunches of columns at Beliefnet but not sure how to get you to ’em. So go here, for a printed interview with Lynch, and a video stream.
Mr. Lynch’s brand new book, Booking Passage: We Irish and Americans (Norton; $24.95) just arrived at the shop. Gordon rushed over right away to pick one up—a new book by Lynch is an event around here. I myself, of course, would relish reading more of his wisdom about death, dying and the dispatching of the dead. But this travelogue and reflection on his trips to the land of his people may just may be a very pleasant treat, in a couple of weeks. The blurbs on the back are spectacular, and I will tell you more about that, later, too. Promise.

My father-in-law, Harry Gross, died early this morning. Beth, Stephanie and I were with him, giving him reassurances of God’s grace, his eternal destiny, our love for him and the good, good job he did as a parent and provider.
A few who read the blog have sent notes wishing to stay informed—-long time H & M friends will recall how both Beth’s parents and my parents helped us regularly in the early years. We moved here to Central PA from Pittsburgh, after a stint with the CCO, to be closer to our parents, and to get their help in starting this family business. That was 23 years ago. We are glad for their support in launching this ministry* that you, dear reader, are a part of, and are happy that our three children have grown up around them.

*Beth’s dad owned and operated a excellent local hardware store and her mom, who died a year ago, was formerly a school librarian, so they had special care for our work.

A brief excerpt from the David Dark book I mentioned yesterday: