One of the best books about the Christian faith, and the role of Jesus, his mission and
resurrection, is The Challenge of Jesus by N. T. Wright. (IVP)  It is not as tediously academic as his massive serious works, but it is more meaty than his lovely sermon collections or more basic books. We recommend all of his books, of course, but this is great.   InterVarsity Press took a few excerpts of it and published them as a little paperback called The Challenge of Easter.

Wright is quite clear: “What Jesus did was unique, climatic, and decisive.” A good set of sturdy words to ponder this Easter day.

And then, he continues, with the “so what” question:

[this foundation]…does provide the pattern, the shape, the basis for a building to be constructed.  Our task is to implement Jesus’ unique achievement.  We are like the musicians called to play and sing the unique and once-only-written musical score.  We don’t have to write it again, but we have to play it.  Or, in the image Paul uses in 1 Corinthians 3, we are now in a position of young architects discovering a wonderful foundation already laid by a master architect and having to work out what sort of building was intended…

Just as in Genesis, so now in the new Genesis, the new creation, God breathes into human nostrils his own breath, and we become living stewards, looking after the garden, shaping God’s world as his obedient image-bearers.  Paul, indeed, uses the image of the gardener alongside that of the builder in 1 Corinthian 3.  We are to implement Jesus’ unique achievement.

This perspective should open the Gospels for us in a whole new way.  Everything that we read there tells us something about the foundation upon which we are called to build.  Everything, therefore, gives us hints about what sort of building it is to be.  Jesus was to Israel, so the church is to be for the world.

But, you say, the people we minister to, the people we work with in the laboratory or the fine arts department, the people who serve us in the grocery store or who work in the power station, are not first-century Jews.  How can we summon them as Jesus summoned his contemporaries? How can we challenge them in the same way?  What is the equivalent?  What is the key to help us to translate Jesus’ message into our own?

The key is that humans are made in the image of God.  That is the equivalent, on the wider canvas, of Israel’s unique position and vocation.  And bearing God’s image is not just a fact, it is a vocation.  It means being called to reflect into the world the creative and redemptive love of God.  It means being made for relationship, for stewardship, for worship—or, to put it more vividly, for sex, gardening and God.

Human beings know in their bones that they are made for each other, made to look after and shape this world, made to worship the one in whose image they are made.  But like Israel with her vocation, we get it wrong.  We worship other gods and start to reflect their likeness instead.  We distort our vocation to stewardship into the will to power, treating God’s world as either a gold mine or an ashtray.  And we distort our calling to beautiful, healing, creative many-sided human relationships into exploitation and abuse….

…Our task, as image-bearing, God-loving, Christ-shaped, Spirit-filled Christians following Christ and shaping our world, is to announce redemption to the world that has discovered its fallenness, to announce healing to the world that has discovered its brokenness, to proclaim love and trust to the world that knows only exploitation, fear, and suspicion.

Humans were made to reflect God’s creative stewardship into the world.   Israel was made to bring God’s rescuing love to bear upon the world.  Jesus came as the true Israel, the world’s true light, and as the true image of the invisible God. He was the true Jew, the true human.  He has laid the foundation, and we must build upon it.  We are to be the bearers both of his redeeming love and of his creative stewardship: to celebrate it, to model it, to proclaim it, to dance it.

Hearts & Minds  234 East Main Street  Dallastown, PA  17313     717.246.3333

In writing about the death of Jesus as described in the gospel of Mark, Timothy Keller writes in King’s Cross: The Story of the World in the Life of Jesus,  of a officiating Roman centurion, who confesses that Jesus was the Son of God, a claim that Keller rightly calls “momentous.”   Keller notes how few understood Jesus’ real identity; people had been asking and wondering.  “But the first person to get it,”  he says, “was the centurion who presided over his death.”

This was even more unlikely because he was a Roman.  Every Roman coin of the time was inscribed “Tiberious Caesar, son of the divine Augustus.”  The only person a loyal Roman would ever call “Son of God” was Caesar–but this man gave the title to Jesus.  And he was a hard character.  Centurions were not aristocrats who got military commissions; they were enlisted men who had risen through the ranks.  So this man had seen death, and had inflicted it, to a degree that you and I can hardly imagine.

Here was a hardened, brutal man.  Yet something had penetrated his spiritual darkness.  He became the first person to confess the identity of Jesus Christ.

There is a striking contrast between the centurion and everyone else around the cross.  The disciples–who had been taught by Jesus repeatedly and at length that this day would come—were completely confused and stymied.  The religious leaders had looked at the very deepest wisdom of God and rejected it.

What penetrated the centurion’s darkness? How did he suddenly come into the light?  For thirty years years I have been thinking about this question, trying to figure out why it was the centurion who first understood who Jesus was.  Here’s what I believe shone the light into his darkness: The centurion heard Jesus’ cry, and saw how Jesus died.

In have only ever seen one person actually breathe his last breath.  I’ll never forget that experience.  Very likely you, too, have been present for a death only once or twice, if at all.  But the centurion had seen many people die—and many of those by his own hand.  Yet even for him this death was unique.  He saw something about Jesus’ death that was unlike any other.  The tenderness of Jesus, despite the terror, must have pierced right through his hardness.  The beauty of Jesus in his death must have flooded darkness with light.

After a few good pages, Keller writes,

By saying the centurion “heard his cry” Mark is pressing the story right up to your ear.  If you listen closely to that cry—my God, my God, why have you forsake me?—you can see the same beauty, the same tenderness.  If you see Jesus losing the infinite love of his Father out of his infinite love for you it will melt your hardness.  No matter who you are, it will open your eyes and shatter your darkness.  You will at long last be able to turn away from all those other things that are dominating your life, addicting you, drawing you away from God.  Jesus Christ’s darkness can dispel and destroy your own, so that in the place of hardness and darkness and death we have tenderness and light and life.

The New York pastor ends this moving chapter with a story of his own thyroid cancer, a fantastic excerpt from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, and a reminder that it is true, after all. 

Because of Jesus’ death, evil is a passing thing—a shadow [as Sam saw in Lord of the Rings.]  There is light and high beauty forever beyond its reach because evil fell into the heart of Jesus.  The only darkness that could have destroyed us forever fell into his heart.  It didn’t matter what happened in my surgery—it was going to be all right.  And it is going to be all right.

Note the shield on the character
on the right.  The centurion, of course.
And the skull at Christ’s feet.
Death destroyed!

Some (mostly) very brief books you may not know of, suggested for these next holy days.
See below to learn about our one week only discount on these, while we have them in stock…hope this is helpful.  Blessings on your Lenten  journey.

Characters of the Passion  Fulton J. Sheen (Liguori) $9.95  Fulton Sheen was a prolific writer, a beloved Catholic leader, certainly one of the 20th centuries most well-known prelates.  He was an articulate radio and TV personality, the closest thing there was to a Catholic Billy Graham, thoughtful and compelling–maybe a bit of C.S. Lewis, even.  He was known as a persuasive speaker, a wise leader, and a great Bible expositor.  Here he explores the eternal drama of the cross by using the stories of those who were influential in the death of Jesus.  There is comfort and strength and goodness and hope here through brief but penetrating characterizations of those involved in the passion story—Peter, Judas, Pilate, Herod, Claudia and Herodias, Barabbas and the thieves.  94 pages.

The Passion of Christ  Veselin Kesich (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press) $10.95  Dr. Kesich is Professor of New Testament and Greek at the famous Russian Orthodox seminary, St. Vladimir’s, in New York.  This brief and profound study, first published nearly 50 years ago,  shows “how the authors of the passion narratives present a double perspective: that of the time of Jesus and that of their own time following the destruction of the Temple.”  Within this historical context, the author addresses the questions of anti-Semitism and the family quarrels between Jews and Christians…”  Kesich reasserts (against some liberal scholarly opinion) the centrality of the cross, exploring the trial and the purpose of Christ’s suffering.  An important scholarly voice, written in a concise and nearly devotional style. 92 pages.

The Scriptures, the Cross & The Power of God: Reflections for Holy Week  Tom Wright (WJK) $12.95  This is a very small, mass-market-sized paperback that is worth its weight in gold, as they say.  N.T. Wright is always worth reading, and here offers 9 short meditations, starting with Palm Sunday Mattins, throughout each day of the week (including two on Maundy Thursday, morning and evening), concluding in a marvelous Easter Vigil meditation and an Easter morning sermon. Very nicely done. 84 pages

Christians at the Cross: Finding Hope in the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus  N.T. Wright (The Word Among us Press) $10.95   I have written about this often, a book of Wright’s that is not as well known as it ought to be.  These are a series of 8 sermons, delivered in a rural parish that had the distinction of being the site of a horrible colliery accident in 1951, a tragedy that marked the town deeply.  Miners died and the town, it’s businesses and economy and community, grieved and struggled.  Later, the town was known for a bitter strike, and was eventually the last mining pit of this sort around—until it was closed by the government, leading to more crisis.  (You may have seen scenes of Easington in the movie Billy Elliott.) These are sermons–pastoral and prophetic–spoken into a setting of sadness, unemployment and loss.  79 pages

Stations of the Cross  Sara Maitland, with paintings by Chris Gollon (Continuum) $19.95  This is not a large sized coffee table book, just a hand-sized paperback, printed on heavy stock, to show off the evocative, striking–at times with an odd touch, although not quite like Salvador Dali–paintings of the stations. The paintings has been commissioned by this renowned, eccentric artist for St John on Bethnal Green, in the heart of London’s East End.  Novelist and storyteller Sara Maitland was so moved by these vivid paintings that she did a series of first person narratives, making this an engaging, contemporary, and provocative Holy Week resource. Not for everyone, perhaps, but some will find this very, very helpful. 125 pages

Christ on Trial: How the Gospel Unsettles Our Judgement  Rowan Williams (Eerdmans) $15.00   This is a very profound and literate study of the trial of Christ by the eloquent and thoughtful Archbishop of Canterbury.  One need not approve of all of the Archbishop’s leadership to appreciate his scholarly abilities, his notable writing, and the way he can unlock a scene from history and plumb from it personal and contemporary meaning.  In this book he explores literature, current events, questions of martyrdom, meditates on matters of freedom and tyranny…and more.  Well worth pondering. 141 pages.

Cross Shattered Christ: Meditations on the Seven Last Words  Stanley Hauerwas (Brazos) $14.99 hardback These are real sermons preached in one of those three hour Good Friday services and is one of the more interesting ones I’ve ever read.  (I’ve read a few, and even preached at a few!)  They were revised a bit (when an author thanks Alasdair MacIntyre, Sam Wells, Greg Jones and Paula Gilbert, Ellen Davis and Rodney Clapp you know it is serious stuff.)  There are stunning wood-block prints by the amazing Rick Beerhorst before each sermon in this handsome, hand-sized hardback and these are worth the price of the book themselves. 
108 pages.

It is Finished: Meditations on the Death of Jesus  Darrell W. Johnson (Regent College Press) $14.95  Johnson is a much-admired professor at Regent in British Columbia and has a tremendous book on Revelation (Discipleship on the Edge) and another on the trinity and another on the Lord’s Prayer.  Here he meditates on 6 key New Testament texts that explain the execution of Jesus and the mystery and majesty of the cross, exploring it from various angles.  To illustrate his perspective, know that he recommends scholars such as Gustav Aulen, Richard Bauckham, Henri Blocher, Martin Hengel,  Jurgen Moltmann, Leon Morris, Wright,  McGrath, his colleague J.I. Packer, and his friend John Stott.  Just what you’d expect from the thoughtful, solid folk at Regent!  I intend to read this this week, in fact—Johnson is very good.  95 pages.

Between Cross & Resurre
ction: A Theology of Holy Saturday  Alan Lewis  (Eerdmans) $27.00  (This is now the paperback price, but we have one hardback [now out of print in hardcover] left for that price.)  I often recommend this, and most years we don’t even sell one.  A few very discerning pastors who read seriously have told me that this is one of the best books they have ever read.  It is mature and meaty, long and not simplistic.  I want to call it a tour de force.  Most eloquent endorsements are from the likes of Colin Gunton, Daniel Migliore, and Douglas John Hall and Thomas Torrance.  The late Dr. Lewis was a prof at the Presbyterian (USA) Austin Theological Seminary and this was truly his life’s work .477 pages.

The Undoing of Death: Sermons for Holy Week and Easter  Fleming Rutledge (Eerdmans) $18.00 I might as well list this one again this year as it is one of my favorite serious studies of the season–I say studies because it has an air of rigor about it, but each really is a sermon or homily preached by Rutledge and there are dozens here, compiled from more than 20 years of her preaching.  I’ve drawn from it often, cite it in classes or sermons I’ve done, and have enjoyed celebrating it with anybody who reads this sort of thing.  The author is moderate, eloquent, intellectual and literary, a beloved pastor of the energetic Grace Episcopal church in New York City.  There are a few photos in here, too—of bas relief, sculpting, ceramic art and frescoes, illustrating how our long tradition within the Christian church has understood this mighty topic.  Not a quick read, but richly rewarding and recommended.  May messages of this sort of sturdy orthodoxy flourish, moving God’s people to think and live and die well.  360 pages.

WHERE DID THE TIME GO?

I wonder how many are like me, starting off with high hopes and mature expectations and then, a week before Christmas, or Easter, are lamenting the lack of spiritual discipline, the fast-paced lifestyle, the hectic stuff that comes up day by day, eroding a sense of very deeply entering the liturgical cycles.  What happened to my Lenten devotions, my contemplative intentions, the self-reflection and study and silence and fasting?  As is usually the case, in Advent and Lent, it comes undone pretty quickly for our household. Where did the weeks go?

Here are six resources on spiritual formation that might jump-start your Lenten journey, get you back on track, revive your soul in these next weeks.  Taking just a few intentional hours to prepare for Holy week might be beneficial, you know, and a new book or DVD like this might offer the assist you need.  Or perhaps you know someone you could gift with a book—just a token of friendship, sharing the Lenten love.  

Naked Spirituality: A Life with God in 12 Simple Words  Brian McLaren (HarperOne) $25.99  I have to admit I went into this with my guard up.  I love Brian and yet realize that many think he has gone a bit too far in reconstructing “a new kind of Christianity.” I disagreed somewhat with Scot McKnight, for instance, in his serious critique in Christianity Today a year ago of the previous McLaren book of that title although I do share McKnight’s concerns. (Read Brian’s reply, here, too.)  Still I am wary.  I hope that isn’t an indication of a lack of generosity in my reading but just my evangelical scruples reminding us to not take lightly serious deviation from “mere Christianity” (as most of the church has understood it for most of church history.)  Some may roll their eyes at my theological concerns, while others have rolled me out the door for daring to suggest that we read widely and host tough questions.  

And so, with a small chip on my shoulder and a heart aflutter with anxiety, I started my early preview copy of Naked Spirituality.  And was absolutely hooked from the first page.  I loved reading it!  I read it carefully and with great interest, found it to be one of the most stimulating books on spiritual formation I have read in ages.  Mr. McLaren has a rare gift–a considerable and blessed gift–of speaking to those who have not been attracted to church, or to those who have drifted, or been “de-churched” by toxic congregations, or have big questions that they feel (rightly or wrongly) are not permitted in the religious groups they know. (He had a whole book, now divided into two smaller ones, which was essentially a letter and ongoing dialogue with an unchurched seeker he came to know, inviting her step by step, without propaganda or pushiness, to consider what she believed about deep things, about Christ and about the gospel.) McLaren speaks plainly, honestly, with gentle solidarity with those who are “spiritual but not religious.”  He makes sense in ways that some of the more obtuse spiritual writers—from contemporary liberal mystics to old Puritan divines—simply don’t.  I don’t mean just to say he is easy to read and comprehend (although that isn’t a bad thing in a book, of course.)  He speaks about life as most of us experience it, down to Earth and honest, candid about struggles and perplexities and disappointments.  He notes in the video promo clip above that this book is really close to his heart.  It shows.

SPIRITUAL BUT NOT RELIGIOUS


I have never had much sympathy for that “spiritual but not religious” phrase (and here is a spectacular critique by Chris Smith of the Englwood Review of Naked Spirituality poking at McLaren’s willingness to even consider the plausibility of spirituality without religion.  They suggest McLaren’s postmodern sensibilities have been betrayed as this idea that one can have religious experience inside one’s own head outside of and not connected to a gathered narrative tradition is pretty darn Modernist.)  

Still, there are those who see themselves as driven away from (or, at least, not attracted to) congregations of worship and they hunger still for guidance on how to pray.  They could go to some silly avatar from the latest new age trend or take up classic Eastern practices, and some do.  McLaren is generous about all that, seeing the good in many traditions and practices, but he is also a passionate Christian evangelist.  He wants to talk about the God of the Bible as revealed in Jesus the Christ, if in less dogmatic tones than some are used to.  This is a tremendous resource for these kinds of seekers, drawing on a bit of interfaith insight, rooted seriously in the gospels, clearly Christian and full of common sense clues to learning the art of a life with God.  And it’s loaded with pastoral advice, simple instruction, helpful analogies, and tons of stories of Brian’s own life.  I’m happy to announce that most of my fears were unfounded and this book does what it sets out to do.  And more.

His own stories are among the best parts.  He tells here in ways he hasn’t before of the trauma of the years fighting his son’s serious cancer. He mentions his former Pentecostal experiences (a very real thing for him–who knew?) and his disillusionment with some of that. He has a sweet story about a near-break-up with the woman he was engaged to (who took him back and indeed married him.)&n
bsp; Of course he tells of saving turtles.  He writes about some hurts he has received, some hurts he has caused.  These stories are honest and kind and good, presented well, coming across as a long conversation with a wise older brother. At every point they illustrate the life of a real and raw experience of God and the human responses we offer. 



ONE WORD PRAYERS IN FOUR SEASONS OF LIFE:
POSTURES OF THE SOUL/ATTITUDES OF THE HEART
What I initially found a bit odd, almost off-putting, and frankly which created some suspicions—I’m just not that drawn to overly mystical ambiguities and want things explained, if not nailed down—was the minimalist approach, and the very structure of the book: each unit is a lesson on prayerfulness by way of using just one word.  (Well, he gives you some alternate words in each section, too.) He has two chapters on each of these single words.  And you know what?  This ended up being very helpful, nearly brilliant.  Again, my suspicions were mostly melted, as Brian’s kind style, clear teaching, and wise counsel were more than evident as the subtitle is explored, word by word, practice by practice.  The book is arranged well, develops very well, section by section, and I found myself wanting to share stories, insights, ideas with Beth as I read and pondered.  This is the sign of a good book for me, and I hope many BookNotes fans read it.  In the aftermath of last year’s New Kind of Christianity and the recent hubbub around Rob Bell’s Love Wins, many traditional evangelicals will be wary.  Fair enough.  But I think those who mistrust this (as I nearly did) should be open to its treasures. Give it a try and see for yourself.  It is going to be really helpful for many, and I count myself very glad to have read it.  I suspect I will come back to it often. 

I really appreciated and enjoyed how Naked Spirituality is arranged.  It does a sort of “faith development” thing, moving towards “seasons” of life and the different takes on our unfolding faith during each “season.”  These ring very true for me, and I am sure they do for many of us.  McLaren is clear that these aren’t fool-proof stages or lockstep phases that are set in stone.  And he is clear we cycle through these stages various times in our spiritual journey, so there is no need to get caught up in questioning this developmental framework, as if it is one unbroken upward evolution, which is not how he describes it.  (I can just hear it now, some lame critic who knows Brian studies Darwin and appreciates the complex beauties of evolutionary theory, trying to “nail him” by saying his faith perspective is essential evolutionary.  Well, not quite.)  I like his approach a lot, actually, and have been pondering it since I started the book.  I will offer a few brief criticisms later, but for now, I celebrate and affirm and commend the basic approach, design and advise offered here.

He suggests we go through four stages or levels or kinds of spiritual experience.  We can pray in each of these by using these key words that illustrate and give voice to our longings and needs at this stage.  Here’s the overview.

Simplicity: The Season of Spiritual Awakening
His words in this first part are Here (as in God is here, I am here) Thanks (he explains the often used Hebrew word dayenu) and O, which he links to the word hallelujah.  His call to practice jubilation and to stand in awe is just beautiful! 

Complexity: The Season of Spiritual Strengthening
In this section the words that are used to facilitate our prayers are Sorry, Help, and Please.  The chapters on intercession (“Please”) are wonderfully helpful, reminding us to be “stretcher bearers” bringing others to Jesus like those guys who ripped the roof off to get their friend to Jesus.

Perplexity: The Season of Spiritual Surviving
This is an intense section, and, again, very helpful, I’d think, for both beginners (who may have not realized that there is so much lament in the Bible and that doubt is not to be shunned) and for those of us who know in our gut that this is a good stage, but find it naturally unsettling.  Here are the words he uses to help us in this season:  When, No, and Why.  There are many good books on our struggles with hard times, dry times, the “dark night of the soul” and how to express our questions and anger at God.  This is as clear and helpful as any.

Harmony: The Season of Spiritual Deepening
Behold, Yes, and …. (that’s dot, dot, dot) are the words here, and they are wonderful, even if a bit confusing, and surely inadequate (as McLaren would admit since the last two chapters are on silence, which he denotes by the …)  In this section where he describes the deepening that is on the other side of perplexity,  McLaren explores the emergence of a meditative mind, faith beyond belief, and a deep and universal vocation of love.  The last chapter suggests that we may come full circle, in fact, with a new sense of naming the mystery.  Here he reminds us of the need to reject false tensions between “being” and “doing”—this is particularly important in his call to be social activists that are rooted in a truly spiritual life, and a spiritual life that, in fact, bears fruit of social and cultural engagement.   McLaren insists (without any discussion of the role of institutions and cultures, unfortunately) that the world changes as we are changed: “peace comes to the world as peace flows in our innermost being and out through us to others.” 

McLaren draws on his friend Richard Rohr, here, whose Center for Action and Contemplation unites social reformers and contemplatives, helping deepen the tradition represented by voices such as Thomas Merton, Elizabeth O’Connor and Parker Palmer, each who have directly taught on how to be “contemplatives in a world of action” and have advised that social activists not try to challenge the evils of this world without attending to the deepest issues of our own sinful selves.  

This is a huge interest of mine, and I’m afraid I’ve not found my way into God’s grace to adequately transform me here, yet.  I mentioned him a few posts ago, but David Naugle’s Eerdman’s release Reordered Love, Reordered Lives is a very helpful and balanced study of how our desires and loves can be formed by the ways of God. Excellent!  This is also the theme of the new Rick McKinley book, A Kingdom Called Desire: Confronted by the Love of a Risen King (Zondervan.) I long for a gospel-transformed life, for Christ’s power and imputation of His character to become my own, seen in how life is lived out in daily grind of work and home as well as in the public square.  Those of us who speak a lot and work hard to inspire social change simply must be also attentive to our own inner lives lest we foist our own hurts and fears on our public work. 

McLaren is a friend and brother and ally here, and I appreciate his pointing us towards the mystery, sometimes following Jewish custom and referring to God as G-d (since  the God who is really there stands beyond any of our words or concepts, to be hallowed and not turned into an idol.)  But the final chapters were a bit too ethereal for me, and bit too individualistic, too I’d say; they are not naive, really, but a bit less gritty than the earlier chapters.  And, unlike most of the book, this portion was a bit less Christ-centered, or so it seemed to me. (He does do some nice work on several Psalms in this part though which was great.)  I suspect some evangelicals will find the poetic mystery stuff a bit untethered.  Others will adore this ending portion. The final afterward “The Sea to Which All Rivers Run”—which is about love—is both beautifully w
ritten, deeply true, and yet, I wished for more.  It makes reference to the Trinity, and in several complex sentences he makes it clear that this is not pantheistic (for those that are wary.)  He invites us to a “secret life of calm stillness.” 

As we enter into the season of Holy Week, we would do well to ponder the unjust trial of Jesus, His betrayal, the wounds of Christ, the stations of the cross, the doctrines of justification, the mysteries of Holy Saturday–not to mention, then, the victory of Resurrection, the proof of God’s redemptive work in the world.  There is more going on here in Christ’s suffering and the vindication of God’s Easter Kingdom than can be summarized by Brian’s reminder, even though, it is a good reminder:  “And so it is that the last simple word is the best and the biggest, comprising and fulfilling all others.  Spirituality is love.  to hold nothing but naked love in your naked heart–not just the word, but the reality—always, for all, that is the sea toward which all rivers run.”

Sure, many of us will want to enhance and under-gird Naked Spirituality–making it a bit less naked, I guess— with a more impeccable orthodox theology and robust Cruciform discipleship, standing in the best traditions of “mere Christianity” and creedal truths, lived out together in a community of faith, a real neighborhood church.  But this guidebook to simple words for a not so simple spirituality is an incredible gift, a true asset to us, bread for the journey.    

Sacred Rhythms: Spiritual Practices that Nourish Your Soul and Transform Your Life  DVD  Ruth Haley Barton (Zondervan) $31.99 book and DVD study pack.  I’ve often said that Ruth Haley’s books, esp Search for Solitude and Silence and Sacred Rhythms, are amongst my all time favorite books in their huge field of so many great titles.  Ruth is a friend, a great speaker, a lively and honest teacher, and one whose journey into contemplative spirituality has deepened and matured and widened over the years.  She is a guide I trust, a speaker we enjoy, and an author that we always recommend, any chance we can.  Those of you who have meet us where we have sold books at events, conferences, retreats or workshops know this is true.  We are fans.

At last, the energy, charm, pleasantness and vibrant teaching of Ruth is available on DVD.  The books are very good, but seeing her live is a real treat and we simply cannot say enough about this new curriculum.

It is based quite obviously on the book by this title, and includes six sessions.  The study guide is designed for the DVD and is a wonderful way to experience and incorporate these spiritual teachings into your life.  The study book is ideal for anyone to use, but I suppose it is mostly designed for small groups, classes, retreatants, or prayer circles.  I love this stuff, and couldn’t be more pleased to recommend a DVD set.  It will expand Ruth’s ministry, will invite many into this conversation, and will appeal to those longing to arrange their lives in ways that actually facilitates God’s transforming work.

Ruth sometimes describes her project by saying this “links the disciplines of the Christian faith to the most compelling desires of the human soul.”

Here are the session titles that are included on the DVD and study.

Desire: Longing for More in the Spiritual Life
Solitude and Silence: Creating Space for God
Lectio Divina: Encountering God in Scripture
Honoring the Body: Flesh-and-Blood Spirituality
The Examen: Bringing My Whole Self to God
A Rule of Life: Cultivating Your Own Sacred Rhythms

We are confident that this will have a significant impact on those who watch it.  Gather some friends together, share it with a Bible study group, watch it with your family.  Go it alone if you must, but this is really inspiring, very helpful, and a great, rare resource for exploring how to know God better, allowing the Spirit to shape your lives, all because we create space and time for God to do in us what only God can.  Nice!

Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life  Richard Rohr (Jossey Bass) $19.95  Rohr is a Franciscan and we have carried his books for as long as we’ve been in business.  He’s written on Scripture study, or contemplative spirituality, or the social witness of the church, several fascinating books on men’s issues, and, recently, the much-loved introduction to contemplative living called Everything Belongs and the popular Naked Now.  He’s a mystic with his feet planted on the ground, a very contemporary Catholic who reads in interfaith circles.  His footnotes include some psycho-spiritual writers, from Jung to Sam Keen to Ken Wilber.  He’s obviously fluent in the medieval mystics (St John of the Cross and the like.)  He’s a writer you should know.

Here is the interesting thing about Falling Upward.  As the title implies, it is about failure, about brokenness, about failing.  Yet, for this good Franciscan, suffering is redemptive, being in touch with our sorrows and deepest selves is healing, and, well, helps makes us who we are.  That can sound cheesy and like a motivational speaker, or it can, in the right hands, be profoundly liberating.  Rohr works with this theme and applies it to aging.  The two halves of life are not exactly chronological—the younger years versus the older years—but alludes to the years of messing up and the years of deepening wisdom.  Like the Bible, brother R supposes that older folks can be elders.  They can become our mentors and guides.  There can be rituals and ways of affirming this, even.  However, for older folks to be deep and faithful guides, we must all realize the ways to see how our failings can be the foundations of our spiritual lives.  Fascinating.

Beginner’s Grace: Bringing Prayer to Life  Kate Braestrup (Free Press) $25.00  We have said a few times that Kate Braestrup is almost as good as Barbara Brown Taylor, and is poised to become as beloved as an author as the extraordinarily gifted Ms Taylor. Whether I’m write about that, it does seem those that like BBT would like this author as well.  Kate’s first book (Here If You Need Me) took our breath away as she wrote about the death of her first husband, amidst her own work as a forestry and police chaplain in the rugged Maine landscape.  Her second book, Marriage and Other Acts of Charity again offers wise council, fine insight, w
ritten as a memoir, reflecting on her remarriage and ongoing ministry among this rough population of forest rangers, cops and first responders.  

Braestup is ordained to this taxing, adventurous and seriously compassionate calling through the Unitarian-Universalists, so her theology is decidedly liberal.  She’s a great story-teller–Phyllis Tickle, who raved about it, said it was “frank” which is a sturdy way of saying it.  And goodness, what stories she has— Braestrup has been through so much, seen so much, that she has earned the right to be heard.  

This book was written largely out of her own struggles with prayer, and a fairly regular need to pray with those in very hard places—with parents whose child is lost in the woods, with mourning spouses after a drowning accident, with fellow EMTs or cops when one of their own is fallen in duty.  This book will make you cry and a few parts will make you laugh.  (Those of us who have been through great trauma will understand the story of Braestrup crying with a young woman whose husband’s body was recovered from a frozen lake, who wanted to touch him one last time, and did so as they unzipped the body bag, only to then laughed through her horrific grief, blurting out that she never really liked that shirt her husband was wearing.)  Can tears be prayers?  Can laughter?  Can one learn to love God even if the words aren’t right?  My, my, this is sweet, good stuff.

This Sacred Moment: Becoming Holy Right Where You Are  Albert Haase (IVP) $15.00 I have been so intrigued that InterVarsity Press, a solid, thoughtful, favorite evangelical publisher has been releasing more books by Catholic writers in the past decade, especially in their spirituality-focused imprint formatio.  This is a good thing, of course, and important.  I hate to show too many of my fussy evangelical cards (as I did in my admission of having some concerns about McLaren’s theological shifts) but in a way, it is helpful to have books from the Catholic and monastic tradition considered, vetted and published by one of the most reliable and thoughtful evangelical publishers.  There is, within Catholic presses, not unlike liberal Protestant houses or fundamentalist and charismatic publishing firms, all manner of weirdness.  So helping get some of the very best spiritual formation stuff from Catholic retreat leaders that might be most useful for Protestant readers is quite helpful.  So kudos to IVP.  And kudos to whoever chose this title as it is delightful, sharp, nicely written, and realistic in our hope to find deeper intimacy with God. Haase is obviously a good guy and a fine writer.

“What does it mean to be a holy person,” the back cover asks.  The answer might surprise you.  Father Haase tells us it is the ordinary stuff of life that is the crucible for increasing holiness.  “Any and every situation holds the grace for the transformation called holiness.”  He invites us to imitate Christ and empty ourselves for the benefit of others. 

Besides the shout-out there to the classic Imitation of Christ you may hear shades of another influential classic Abandonment to Divine Providence (also published as Sacrament of the Present Moment.) Yep, this is basic stuff, and yet his guidance–and he offers concrete practices that helps us learn how to wisely discern what God might be calling us to in any given situation–allows us to take commonly accepted faithful ideas and helps us learn to live it.  I suppose it is fair to say that Haase writes as a Franciscan (that is, with simplicity and charity) and yet despite the short chapters and practical application stuff, it is significant and profound.  The discussion questions are great and could last a year; if you have a trusted spiritual companion, it would be ideal to work on them together.

Fr. Haase has been a missionary to China, hosts a weekly radio show, and has authored Coming Home to Your True Self and Living the Lord’s Prayer.  Very instructive, encouraging, and a real blessing.

The last few pages are an appendix of nearly two dozen “summary
principles” which are explored in short chapters through-out the book. 
Here are just three:

God’s call in the required duty
or unmet meed of this present moment is an expression of God’s will for
me. Consequently, every moment is sacred.

All creation exists for
Christ’s glory.  Alienated creation comes back to harmony with God and
is reconciled through Christ’s self-emptying on the cross—his selfless
openness and response to the present moment. This is God’s will for the
world.

The ego’s obsession with self-concern, self-image, and
self-gratification and self-preservation is the primary obstacle and
hindrance to selfless openness to God’s call in this sacred moment. 

Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals  Shane Claiborne,  Jonathan Wilson Hartgrove, Enuma Okoro  (Zondervan) $24.99  I discussed this remarkable resource at great length when it first came out early in Advent of last year, reviewing here it in BookNotes.  If you don’t know about it, I hope you click back to our previous review, which explains it all pretty nicely.  In the winter months we have come to hear of a number of groups that are using it, and loving it. 

Now, in Lent, it dawns on me that I should suggest it again, as it is truly a great prayer book, with interesting sidebars, some nice woodcut touches, a ribbon marker and–obviously, most importantly—substantial prayers that are both historic and very contemporary, ancient and a bit future, with cadences of the older prayer books and yet designed, mostly, for folk who aren’t quite use to the rhythms and disciplines of praying out loud from a common prayer book.  This is rich and good.  It would aid  your prayer life these important next days, I’m sure, and would make a very nice, lasting, gift.

Well, there they are.  Nearer the final leg of our Lenten journey, maybe these would prove helpful along the way.  We can send ’em out right away, of course.  Hope you appreciate the suggestions and the discounts.  It is our joy to offer these diverse kinds of resources.  Peace.

In my last post, naming books about reading, our technological culture, media and so forth, I was happy to announce the paperback release of the fine bit of literary criticism (such a stodgy word for it) by Wendell Berry, Imagination in Place.  It was all I could do not to mention his brand new one, which is oh-so-similar, one that I am prepared to rave about.  I didn’t want such an important revelation to get lost in that paragraph.

So, now, a proper announcement.  Wendell Berry has a brand new book, and its first half, which I have read, is clear as a bell and as solid as Kentucky limestone.  It is truly fascinating, especially if you like Wendell talking about his own life as a writer, or if you like the poetry of William Carlos Williams.  It is called The Poetry of William Carlos Williams of Rutherford (Counterpoint; $24.00.)

The title itself is revealing and significant.  Any high-school kid should at least know the name William Carlos Williams and those who have followed our blog know that we have promoted the wonderful essays on literature and character and social change by the Harvard professor, Robert Coles, and how Coles holds up Williams as a great writer who related literature to his day job, being a family doctor, in his urban setting.  You can see where this is going—imagination in place!  William Carlos Williams of Rutherford New Jersey?  Berry has the eyes to see (and apparently those schooled in mid-20th century poetry know this) that WCW was, in fact, an oddball of sorts: he wrote about common people in a real location, allowing his participation in the local neighborhood–his work, his friends, his neighbors, his church–to influence (indeed, to become to subject of) his extraordinary poems.  He was belittled for this by the hot shots, and this is, of course, a part of the story.  Berry took great inspiration in this (I wondered, to be honest, why William Carlos Williams wasn’t in Imagination in Place as he seemed to exemplify that book’s thesis. Now we know—Berry was doing a whole book on this same theme that structures Imagination in Place, using WCW as the great example.)

 I should say that it is only my lack of vocabulary that causes me to say Berry is “using” WCW as an “example.”  Berry is more subtle than that, more nuanced and insightful and kind.  But, still, the Borger short-hand being what it is, I’d explain the book like this: he illustrates how a sense of place (in this case Rutherford and Paterson NJ) shaped and influenced and became fodder for the great work of this too often misunderstood poet and doctor, the fascinating William Carlos Willliams.  And how Berry himself does that in his own Kentucky homeland, drawing inspiration from Dr. Williams.

It hasn’t directly come up yet in the book but it is obviously significant that both of these poets are bi-vocational.  Both Berry and Williams have other jobs, working with their hands, in farming and pediatrics, respectively. So not only does their place in a locale shape their poems and stories, but their day jobs do, too.  (This is one of the matters explored by the aforementioned Robert Coles, in Call of Stories: Teaching and the Moral Imagination and Handing One Another Along: Literature and Social Reflection and in his Lives We Carry With Us: Profiles of Moral Courage. Somewhere he tells of using William Carlos Williams in his own work teaching med students. Do any ag schools use Berry’s poems or short stories, I wonder?  One can hope.)

And so, The Poetry of William Carlos Williams of Rutherford is a book- length treatment, in short, wonderful chapters, of Berry’s own appreciation and analysis of Williams, and his writing about his place.

Did you know that many of the most prominent professional poets of his generation moved to Europe, or at least traveled there much, reveling in their leaving.  In a related corner of the zeitgeist, it was said that the only poetry that matters was that of the city; Berry was seriously warned that his literary career would abort if he returned to Appalachia. This has been reported in other Berry books  how he himself was discouraged from moving back to Kentucky (see the chapter “My Friend Hayden” in Imagination in Place about the New Hampshire farmer-poet who was an example to Berry that one could be a successful writer and not live in the urbane and sophisticated circles of New York or New Haven.)   Well, leaving was the thing, and they mocked Williams for staying.  Berry explains it well, and it continues to be an important matter, and will continue to be so for many of us.  

Similarly, and perhaps of interest to some some BookNotes friends who work at colleges or in college ministry, Berry notes, without much judgment, that most college professors have, in fact, needed to leave their own regions and kin to take up careers in the modern college town, which has an effect on the kind of research and work they do.  He notes that most professional poets these days are hired at universities, and he writes,

Unless university poets are actually from some place in particular, and unless they have the good fortune to be employed somewhere near their homes, they tend to be careerists and migrants, without local knowledge or affections of loyalty, like their professional and specialist colleagues.  They are therefore under pressure to conform to, and they have no immediate reason to resist, the industrial order represented by their university.  They, like their critics, are inclined to think that the arts are under obligation to keep up with the times, and to conform to industrial values and advances in technology.  This is not a quarrel I wish to bring against anybody in particular, and I know there are reasons and also exceptions…What I am describing, however, is too easily possible in the modern universities.  The tendency is toward careerism, personal displacement, scientific reductionism, and technological determinism.  Williams saw this tendency, understood it, feared it, and resisted it.

One of the ways he did this, of course, is he stayed put, did his work, wrote his stories and poems and essays, situated.  Berry puts it simply, ” He lived, practiced medicine, and wrote his poems in the same place all his life.  He lived by the terms of a community involvement more constant, more intimate, and more urgent than any other notable poet of his day.”   He continues, “He watched his neighbors and his patients, who often were the same people, with the keenest interest, affection, and amusement, and often enough with dismay.”  (One hears echoes of Eugene Peterson, here, even how he learned to be a better pastor by reading about the ordinary people in novels.)

This is the kind of doctor and poet William Carlos Williams was, and the kind of poet and citizen Wendell Berry is.  And it is, apparently, more rare than you might think. (Come to think of it, I wish
I had a doctor—let alone a poet—who watched me with “keen interest, affection, amusement” and, heck, I’d even take dismay.  I don’t think our current doctor remembers my name and sure doesn’t write any poems about me.  But that’s another story.)

Berry writes,

William Carlos Williams “was a poet determinedly and conscientiously local. Some writers, comparatively few, have assumed the burden both of local subject matter and local stewardship, and some–most–do not. Thoreau did, Henry James did not; Faulkner did, Hemingway did not; Williams did, Elliot did not.  By noticing this I mean to imply no blame.  The difference is nonetheless significant, and it must be taken into account if we are to deal justly with William’s poetry.  As Booker T. Washington counseled his own people to do, Williams cast down his bucket where he was.

Well, I could say more.  There is a chapter called “The Problems of A Local Commitment” and another called “Local Adaptation.”  And–you should know as you consider if this book will fully interest you–there are a dozen short chapters, each about an aspect of Williams’ poetic styles.  There are chapters called “Line and Syntax” and “Measure” and “The Structure of Sounds.”  I am not schooled in poetry at all and frankly am not as interested in it as you might suppose.  But this book is already important to me, a tutorial by a master poet with values I trust, using a fine and important writer as an example of these word-smithing details.  Consider this new book another Berry-esque essay about much that is wrong in our culture, or much that is right about his faithful, populist/agrarian vision, which I suppose it is.  But it is, also, a rare study of a particular poet, and a mini-course on poetry, what it is, how it works, and how it is situated, at least in American culture. (There is one fantastic chapter—I jumped ahead to read it—called “Williams and Elliot” that is really thought-provoking, especially showing how both poets concluded that their times were “wastelands.”)  I think most of us could use the refresher course in poetics, and who better to teach us?   

Look.  I know some of my readers, like myself, value Berry’s wonderful stories (Hannah Coulter may be an all time favorite novel of both Beth and me, as is Jayber Crowe.)  And, even more, I appreciate his social vision as worked out in his careful, studious essays.  The man did a sit-in to protest mountaintop removal at the Kentucky governor’s office last month (at my facebook, I linked to a youtube interview with the tired protester, saying he should have done it years before.)  I am mostly drawn to his call to care for land, to reject government shenanigans, to live as God’s steward of creation.  His wonderful essays on food have been brought together in a profound collection called Bringing It To The Table: On Farming and Food, mature writing that is just so relevant for all of us.  He attends a small country church, has been shaped by Methodist hymns and his King James Bible, and he makes tons of common sense, following the teachings of Jesus as best he can. Sex, Economy, Freedom and Community is a fabulous starting anthology, so I’m not always a quick to think about his poetry.

But this, this poetry, this is what sustains and shapes the man.  If you care about Berry, really, you should be interested in this book.  He tells us, movingly, I think, on the very last page, once again, what has been the theme of the book about this poet from North Jersey:

It has been so important because Williams’ place was as marginal in its way as my own, and he devoted his life and art to it, not looking away or yearning toward some “better” place.  Of all the writers known to me, Williams dealt most directly and explicitly with the complex cultural necessity of an ongoing, lively connection between imagination in the highest sense and the ground underfoot.  Nobody had confronted more steadily the difficulties of such an effort in the face of the encroachments everywhere of industrial values, industrial exploitation, and the consequent loneliness of industrial individualism.  For half a century his example has been always near to my thoughts, his poems always
at hand.  I have taken from them an encouragement and a consolation that I have
needed and could not otherwise have found.

It may be a bit incongruous, but now seems a great time to celebrate two other recent and much-commented upon poetry volumes, by poets whose writings are not at all like Mr. Berry’s.  One is rather unknown, released by an indie press started by a dear friend.  The other was just released by a very prestigious press after having garnered an important award.  I do not know the first poet, but the second is a long-time friend.

Both deserve huge accolades and we are happy to promote them.

Contingency Plans  David K. Wheeler (T.S. Poetry Press) $14.00  Wheeler has quite a gathering clan of fans and his work shows up at cool places like the Burnside Writer’s Collective, TheHighCalling blog, and has been included in an important regional volume (The Pacific Northwest Reader, published by Harper/Delphinium.)  He blogs at davewritesright.blogspot.com and, as you’ll discover, he is a fascinating fellow, a musician, essayist, and a very wonderful poet.  Contingency Plans is a great book at a great value—lots of solid poems, on all kinds of topics.  Poet Oliver de la Paz writes of it “These are poems of great spiritual crisis and consequence, where the dark night of the soul is a rugged rucksack shouldered by the poet.  But the wilderness resounds with the voice of a choir and the wearying road can always beckon you home.”  How can you not want to read something described like that?  

Comedian and memoirist Susan Isaacs–whose book Angry Conversations With God you really should read—has observed that she is confounded by great poets (can you relate) since they use the same materials she does: words. About David’s book she says,  “But where I’ve built a fort, he has erected a cathedral.  Wheeler has revealed “the space behind our ribs” and I must remove my sandals.”  

Space doesn’t permit me to cite a few of my favorites, but know that these are accessible, very interesting, fun, mysterious, and usually quite lovely.  There is a sense of Christian spirituality here but they are not usually overt and certainly not sectarian. For what it is worth, Wheeler was mentored by a guy I love, Jim Schmotzer, one of the great leaders in campus ministry from The Inn (at Bellingham, WA) and he nicely thanks in his acknowledgments a batch of indie-owned bookstores (and indie singer-songwriter and H&M pal, Justin McRoberts, for those that like to connect the connections dots.) Wheeler’s a good guy, and his work indicates a maturity beyond his years. They could be read aloud on a variety of occasions, used as discussion starters in small groups or classes, or might inspire you in something like a daily quiet time.  The poet writes that “My hope is that my poetry serves as a temporary testament to how grace has made right wha
t I have gotten wrong.”  Not bad, believe me.

Cloud of Ink  L.S. Klatt (University Press of Iowa) $17.00  You may recall how I raved and raved about the odd-ball work of this Calvin College literature professor, the wondrously playful words and syllables, the artistically rich array of poems found in his first prestigious volume, Interloper (winner of the Juniper Prize for Poetry.)  About half of those are so over-the-top creative that folks just love ’em for the sheer joy of messing around with what words can do.  A few are very serious, one, in fact, somewhat about the death of my own father, killed in a tragic car wreck.  That one, or so it seemed to me, was poetically rich but very evident.

This new work, pulled together after being awarded the 2010 Iowa Poetry Prize, earning the exceptional privilege of being published by this high-end poetry publishing legend, has some of the same edge as his first mind-boggling work.  And, yet, this one feels a bit different.  There is some greater clarity, some light, lots of truth, I’m sure of it.  

Like Klatt’s previous one, there is a great little bit in the back, noting some of his allusions and inspiration, not unlike as in liner notes when a songwriter tells something about the meaning of a song. And what fun it is!  For instance, Klatt notes,  “Several of the titles in the book are modifications of lines from the journals of Ralph Waldo Emerson…” and offers hints such as “‘Aeronautics’ borrows a line from a letter of Herman Melville…” or “‘Darwin’s Mouth’ refigures a story from Charles Darwin’s autobiography…” and “‘Lines of Motion’ is suggested by Flannery O’Connor’s reflections on her own work in Mystery and Manners.”  ‘For Lack of a Better World,’ Klatt tells us, is inspired by a painting of Joan Miro. You get the idea.

Despite these fabulous clues, the reader has to be warned: we must puzzle out the meaning, entering in to how the poet sees the world, and it takes some work.  Good art and slow reading is like that, of course, so I’m saying nothing new;  just some hint that this is not the easiest sort of book to work on, but perhaps is less cryptic than the first.

Am I being critical?  Not at all!  Lew is beloved amongst his students, esteemed amongst his colleagues, and remembered by many as a great campus minister, back when he served with the CCO in Pittsburgh much more than a decade ago. (No wonder he has a few lines about Pittsburgh icons, steel-workers, and Heinz ketchup!)  His poems have been published in some of the most classy lit journals around, and this is, I must underscore, serious stuff.  One prominent reviewer, Kazim Ali, said they are nearly “un-quotable” which is the highest compliment—they are “so tightly joined…of languages variously plainspoken ad wildly swooping.”  Ali continues, “Klatt’s seemingly spare and diffuse lyrics artfully assemble a complex and rich vision, generous in intention, provocative in enactment, ecstatic in spirit.  A wild and welcome collection of poems from an exciting and dynamic thinker.”  Yes, indeed, Dr. Klatt is rich… generous… provocative…ecstatic.  I can vouch for that.  You can hear two Christian leaders, more thoughtful and learned than I, discuss his book at the Books & Culture podcast, here.  And, read this nice story from his college, including some good quotes about his work and some invaluable background.  Enjoy.  

I love these three very different books, Berry, Wheeler and Klatt.  I hope you consider buying them, maybe sharing them with those would might appreciate them.  Here are, for what it is worth, just a few more recently release poetry paperbacks we endorse.

Incarnality: The Collection Poems (with audio CD)  Rod Jellema (Eerdmans) $28.00  This is a nice new collection of the works of one of the great Christian poets of our time, professor emeritus at University of Maryland, and a CD tipped in the back of him reading. There are ample selections from his four earlier volumes, and some new material.   Barbara Brown Taylor wrote of a previous collection (A Slender Grace) “these poems find good news in the dark. Whether he sets us down in front of blind Willie Johnson playing the blues or asks us to spend a night on the bare floor of a church in Nicaragua, Rod Jellema teaches us to see what he sees—slender revelations flung toward us by the veiled but gracious God who means to lead us home.”  This would make a spectacular gift for any poetry lover, any fan of Jellema, or for someone wanting to discover the joys of poetry anew.  Very well done.

Lovely, Raspberry  Aaron Belz (Persea Books) $15.00  I suppose this may not be the ultimate compliment but it matters to some of us: this is published by a serious and mainstream general market publishing house, with a huge endorsements by a giant in the field of contemporary poetry.  Belz is a thoughtful, Reformed evangelical, and is obviously taken seriously by the broader community of poets.  John Ashbery says joyously of this new one, “reading it is like dreaming of a summer vacation and then taking it” although the stern picture of the author on the inside makes me wonder what kind of vacation that would be. Which is to say these are upbeat, lovely, approachable, but not cavalier or light-weight.  Most of these were previously published in obscure and literary journals with hip and bohemian sounding names, only two of them I’ve even heard of: The New Pantagruel and The Washington Post.  There ya go.

Neruda’s Memoirs Maureen E. Doallas (T.S. Poetry Press)  $15.00  This is another fine work published by this indie press edited by L.L. Barkat.  This is not exactly about Pablo Neruda, nor is it a memoir.  Much of this is about the perplexing beauty of nature, how the author grieved the loss of her brother, and a heart-filled, lyrical take on life which transcends the ordinary. 

The volume is meaningfully arranged around four main sections, entitled Enter,  Listen, Exit, and Remember. A great collection by one whose work has been anthologized and well-reviewed.

Read her
at writingwithoutpaper.blogspot.

How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book?    
Henry David Thoreau

…I myself was getting wild.  I wanted wildness, originality, genius, rapture, hope.  I wanted strength, not tea parties.   What I sought in books was a world whose surfaces, whose people and events and days lived, actually matched the exaltation of the interior life.  Those of us who read carried a secret around with us like martyrs a secret knowledge, a secret joy, a secret hope: There is a life worth living where history is still taking place; there are ideas worth dying for, and circumstances where courage is still prized.  This life could be found and joined, like the Resistance.  I kept this exhilarating faith alive in myself, concealed under my uniform shirt like an oblate’s ribbon; I would not be parted from it.
Annie Dillard An American Childhood

The thoughtful reader surrounds himself with inducements to substance.
Aldous Huxley

I don’t know how Dallas Baptist University has done it (well, I have an idea and it has to do with the extraordinary professor there, Dr. David Naugle) but they nurture some of the most remarkable students and alums I have met.  I mentioned in my last post that I had been invited to address the annual Paideia Society and Honor’s College conference there, speaking on the role of reading in the life of the believer, and the future of the book in our increasingly fast-paced/digital/virtual culture. I had the great privilege of taking my place behind previous speakers from other years, speakers and authors as prestigious in the thoughtful evangelical world as Nigel Cameron, Os Guinness, Steve Garber, James K.A. Smith.  They’ve had Polanyi scholar Esther Meeks and Mars Hill Audio founder Ken Myers and Citizens for Public Justice Director Gideon Strauss and Grammy-winner, music producer (and founder of ArtHouse) Charlie Peacock.  In a week or so, the college will host poet Luci Shaw.  I really was nervous speaking from the same podium as had eminent scholars such as historian George Marsden and world-class philosopher Alvin Plantinga.

Doc Naugle, mentor of philosophy students and friend of nearly everybody, hosted me well, and the students and alum of Paideia and of the Honors College (under the leadership of Dr. Philip Mitchell ) were very impressive. Since this was party an academic conference, serious papers were delivered on all sorts of obscure scholarly topics.  And they were excellent including some done by undergrads.  I took in papers comparing the way Aristotle is used in N.T. Wright’s book on character (After You Believe) and Naugle’s own Reordered Love, Reordered Lives and another on the role of fairy stores, and yet another on strategies for guidance counselors for responding to youth violence.  I learned much about Augustine’s view of reading in one, and picked up the copy of one comparing Tolstoy and St. Luke.   There were papers on Dylan, another comparing Springsteen and Flannery O’Connor, and a few whose topics I didn’t even understand. It was especially gratifying for me to see how God has been faithful in raising up young scholars—a few of the presenters are themselves now professors  at other schools in Texas, mentoring undergrads in the way that Naugle and others at DBU so shaped them.  To see how the vision for distinctively Christian scholarship can take hold and unfold as young scholars stay faithful to Christ in the academy is very exciting.  Talk about taking your faith into the work-world to be agents of influence in a difficult career area!

Our Hearts & Minds friends sometimes like to follow our work, so rather than announcing new books we’ve received here at the shop, I’ll share just a bit about my time in Texas and hold up some related books for your consideration.  I’ve been pondering this reading stuff for years, you know, so was delighted to have such a friendly crowd to whom I could preach.  I do think I was pretty much preaching to the choir, but I carried on nonetheless.  I thank them for their patience and good humor.  And the tacos.

The title of the event was tolle lege, which, you should know, is the Latin phrase (perhaps a playground rhyme or jump-rope chant) that the hung-over Augustine heard in his garden one bright day.  He did, indeed, “pick up and read” and was famously converted after his eyes fell on the first book he found (a Bible.)  Dr. Naugle had buttons printed up with the line–“tolle lege: take  up and read” as a reminder of the importance of not only knowing Augustine but of, as folksinger Kate Campbell drawled in an evening concert, “Just pick it on up and read the thing, yall.”  Right on, sister.

I often start my talks on this topic with an episode in a Chaim Potok novel where a Jewish boy and a Catholic kid watch a Hasidic ceremony where exuberant men dance with the Scriptures.  “Don’t you dance with your book?” the Jewish boy asks his friend.  Do we dance with our Scriptures, our words, our books?  It is a good question.  I am afraid a few of us still do, but we are becoming a real minority.

What does it mean to dance with books in the digital age?  How can we promote a culture of bookishness?  This is not a problem only for intellectuals and it is not new, brought on by the dumbing down caused by the habits of skimming and scanning caused by our immersion in the distractions of Web 2.0.  (Ken Myers wrote years ago of a conversation he had with a friend who worked for NPR who had moved to ABC news.  He reported that his friend spoke almost wistfully of the conversations he routinely had back at NPR because the staff there read books and the busy workers at ABC largely did not.  Neil Postman’s must-read Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in an Age of Show Business was written in the last century, about television, not twittering.)

 Allow me to refer you to a piece I wrote for Comment magazine a few years ago called “Learning to Love Good Books.”  I wanted it said, if only in passing, that I do not quite buy the presupposition that there is a huge dichtomy and battle between the word and the image, between books and screens.  I had this passed out on Friday at the DBU event, too, because I did not want my passion for the printed page to lead us to needlessly dis God’s good gift of image, screen, and internet.  Films and TV shows and video games are all valid and good things; they are different than books, and are at times needlessly played off against one another (as Postman does.)  To affirm the roles of music and movies is important.  We do not need to affirm the importance of reading by demeaning the fine arts of images, moving or otherwise. And certainly many of our most loyal book lovers, those who understand the tactile and aesthetic dimension of reading, do travel with a e-reading device.  As usual, things aren’t quite either/or, are they?

The Dallas Baptist University Paideia conference models this as they usually have a concert experience alongside
their academic papers and speeches and heady intellectual discussion.  I was nearly jumping out of my seat with joy anticipating the show put on by an occasional band called The New Agraians (their name a hat tip to the mid-twentieth century writing tradition of Southern populist literature.) I love all three of these folks as solo recording artists and hearing them do songs about the southland—capturing a sense of place and localism and specificity that is important for good writing—was an incredible treat.  Check out Pierce Pettis, Kate Campbell, and Tom Kimmel, who do some of the finest singer-songwriter stuff I’ve heard. There are some youtube clips of a bit of the show and you could check those out.  And start praying for them so they can get a New Agraians recording thing in the works!

Still, there is something slow and interior and formative about books, at least books that are taken seriously.  Unlike pixels where blocks of text can be eliminated in a moment, with the tap of keypad, where content has an “unbearable lightness of being” giving it the air of the ephemeral, there is something more weighty about a book in the hand.  Can blogs and reading on iphones carry the necessary gravitas that paper and ink can?  Can we take reading and learning seriously in our distracted age? What are the implications of 2 Timothy 4:13 for our own lives these days?  These are huge questions that I meandered through, and I invite you to think about them too.

For what it is worth, in three presentations I suggested that we should, indeed, “pick up and read.”  Books matter, and I gave (at least) three reasons. 

PEOPLE MATTER
Firstly, books matter because people matter.  Books have changed lives in large and small ways for centuries and if we love our neighbors we will want them to have experiences that can be transforming.  Great ideas and stories and teaching come packaged in books and it is our Christian duty to share them—hoping for the sorts of changes that we’ve seen down through redemptive history.  I shared about a dozen episodes of how somebody loved somebody else by sharing books and reading.  I told of Saint Patrick’s ancient language work with the Celts and John Newton’s conversion by reading The Imitation of Christ and his influence on Wesley–whose carriage was fitted with bookshelves!—and William Wilberforce to the spiritual renewal God gave Abraham Kuyper when a wise laywoman gave the liberal pastor The Heir of Radcliffe, a novel that changed his soul.  We know of the thoughtful conversations about the essence of story between Roman Catholic J.R.R. Tolkein and the atheist C.S. Lewis (and how his imagination was baptized by reading fairy tales by George MacDonald and how he found his way to Christ finally by studying The Everlasting Man by G. K. Chesterton.)  We know Watergate bad guy bawled as he finished Lewis’ Mere Christianity, finding Christ on his way to prison and how he later learned to think more structurally about prison reform and cultural renewal after reading Kuyper.  I told a few stories of the not-so-famous whose encounters with books made a difference in their lives. 

Can new technologies do that sort of things, transform lives?  Can we share books, pass on the wisdom of authors, invite people to read with us, to join a reading club, can we do the sort of bookish ministry that has changed others if we all read on line?  If we lose real texts and download whatever amazon has for your kindle? I don’t know, but books matter because people matter and our human-scale, communal use of books is a pattern and habit we must encourage. 

WORDS MATTER
Secondly, I explained some different sorts of reading, appropriate for different sorts of texts.  I held up the little article that I wrote at TheHighCallings blog called “Style Matters” which celebrated not just the content of books, but their style, their art, their passion.  Content and style combine in the best authors and wise readers will allow themselves to be taken in by the experience.  Not only do different books, though, take different approaches, we need some different sorts of motivations for reading—to remind us, but also to share with others, to encourage and give a plea for others to see reading as a Christian duty.

I love doing presentations on this sort of thing and described reading as an act of worship, reading as an act of discipleship, reading as an act of spiritual formation, and reading as an act of contextualized mission.  How can we learn to read worshipfully?  To acquire content, as life-long learners?  To have that information form us, to read deeply and, as Peterson’s book puts it, to “eat this book”?  And, in our post-modern culture, how can we read missionally, learning about our world, engaging the important books and authors and themes of the world?

IDEAS MATTER
In my third presentation I told some sad stories about those who do not seem to read much, whose faith appears shallow and lacks integration or coherence–significant folks in key occupations who have little desire to think and live as disciples in their given callings. How damaging to our Christian witness it can be when leaders teach such foolish things and act without regard for occupational integrity. How do we connect Sunday and Monday, and what principles and practices might facilitate a more robust community of discourse?  How has dualism crippled our Christian witness, especially in the public square?  Why do we seem to not be terribly aware of the implications of, say, Romans 12:1-2?  That is, what can we do to help people live lives of whole-life discipleship, thinking Christianly, taking up our vocations to be agents of God’s reign in the world?

This Paideia Society group understood well the need for a uniquely Christian worldview that would generate
distinctively faithful ideas about each and every thing in life.  Ideas about developing the “Christian mind” and the scandal of the lack of an evangelical mind was not knew to them–after all, their teacher literally wrote the book on the history and significance of the notion.  How books might call us to deeper thoughtfulness, to slow and careful–and bold and audacious–efforts for social reform in every zone of life, well, this was my big final push. We need bookish guides (booksellers, even?) to help the community of faith get the resources they need for personal and social transf
ormation.  Do you have bookish mentors, guides, reliable sources?  I sure hope your bookish mentor isn’t a faceless order-filler at some on-line place that cares little for your soul or God’s work in your life.  This is too important, I suggested, to not have bookish relationships with people you trust.

I think we need small groups, intentional community, friends and mentors, colleagues who do life together, even in their thinking and studies (not unlike Wesley’s culture-changing bands with their method of reading classics, or not unlike Wilberforce’s Clapham group, friends for life who took up the cause of social reform together.) Such groups should read together, and encourage each other in developing a way of life guided by the best principles and practices.  If we believe that books matter one of the reasons will surely be that ideas matter.  Ideas grow legs and some take traction, making a difference in the world, for good or ill.  Readers become leaders and with the right sort of vision and institutional support, our books will shape us in ways that may allow us to be faithful in small and big things.  Perhaps we will, truly, make history.  Who doesn’t want that in our time?  May God be pleased as we do good works for the common good, inspired, perhaps, by good habits of reading good books.

 
So, as I was spending time with folks in Texas I thought of books to share, some following up the list from the last post (The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to our Brians, The Gutenberg Elegies: The Fate of Reading in an Electronic Age and so forth) and some others only somewhat related.  Here are some more or less random suggestions to carry us further into this important topic.  In no particular order.  Enjoy.

God and Gadgets: Following Jesus in a Technological Age  Brad Kellenberg (Cascade) $22.00  This author has been an engineer, a theology prof, and has written a wonderful book on postmodern evangelism.  This new work raises the huge question about our relationship to our stuff, especially the technological sorts of stuff of our hot-wired age. He’s a bit of a Wittgenstein scholar, too, but don’t let that scare you aware.  Very provocative and very important.

Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology Neil Postman (Penguin) $14.00  You most likely know–and should own--Amusing Our Self To Death, and this is in some ways a companion volume.  I love this book, a easily read overview of how submission to technique and the gods of efficiency have reduced us in many ways. He calls us to be “loving resistance fighters.”  Is it to late to join the resistance?  Read this book and be inspired to make new choices with a new vision.  And, while your at it, his End of Education is a wonderful read, too.

The Technological World Picture and the Ethics of Responsibility: Struggles in the Ethics of Technology Egbert Schuurman (Dordt College Press) $9.00 I really want to promote this very important author—an important neo-Calvinist and engineering professor in Holland.  We have several of his other heavy books, including his magnum opus, Technology and the Future, recently re-issued.  Highly recommended for those seeking a serious, somewhat philosophical survey from a viewpoint that resists either demonizing nor making an idol of the good, but always distorted, gifts of technology.

Prophetically Incorrect: A Christian Introduction to Media Criticism  Robert Woods & Paul Patton (forward by Quentin Schultze) $19.99  You’ve got to look closely at the cover—the monitor screen has a picture of Jeremiah!  Yep, this includes some pretty serious prophetic imagination–with a rave review from Walter Brueggemann, it should!  With close readings of pop icons like Lady Gaga and serious Biblical vision, this offers us important guidance in learning the art of cultural criticism, with no glib answers or simplistic reactions. Excellent!

How to Read Slowly: Reading for Comprehension  James W. Sire (Waterbrook) $13.99  Everywhere I go, and DBU was no exception, I’m asked about speed reading.  I always suggest this slow antidote to the foolish idea—learning to read carefully and taking up the joys of truly appreciating “where the author is coming from” by an author who has very special gifts, seen in his classic worldview handbook, The Universe Next Door.  This shows how to be discerning about what is “between the lines” and invites a deeper appreciation of all we read, fiction, non-fiction, poetry and more.  Very nicely done, highly recommended.  After this, go for his weighter books like The Discipleship of the Mind and Habits of the Mind: Intellectual Life as a Christian Calling.  By the way, his reflection on his changing understanding of what we mean by worldview and why it is important, Naming the Elephant, Sire jokingly calls “Naugle for Dummies” as it was inspired by DBU prof David Naugle.  How ’bout that?

Eat This Book: A Conversation in the Art of Spiritual Reading  Eugene Peterson (Eerdmans) $16.95 At an epic post at the end of last year when I was naming the best books of 2010 we celebrate the completion of Peterson’s profound five-volume set of spiritual theology.  Interestingly, this second volume, on the practice of meditative reading lectio divina, seems to be the most popular.  This is just a wonderful, wonderful, book, and we cannot recommend it enough.  By the way–DBU Paideia students—the quotes I read in my first talk from Peterson about pastors and novels, and how his own ministry was transformed by reading about Leopold Bloom in James Joyce’s Ulysses, is from a chapter in Subversive Spirituality, a book of random essays, interviews, sermons and occasional pieces from Peterson.  There are several chapters in there where he writes about books, novels and his love of the written word.

Caring for Words in a Culture of Lies Marilyn Chandler McEntrye (Eerdmans) $18.00  This is a truly rewarding book, deserving of a slow an
d open-hearted reading. It is wonderfully writtten, really, but one must pay attention, taking in the serious prose.  McEntrye is a fine poet with a keen artistic vision and here she writes with depth and elegance.  At times passionate and heartfelt, she calls us to recapture a care for words, especially in our public conversations and civil discourse.  Like other life-sustaining resources, we are called to exercise stewardship and care. In this handsome paperback McEntyre gives us twelve “stewardship strategies” ranging from “love words” to “don’t tolerate lies” to “stay in conversation” to “practice poetry” and “cherish silence.”  She has a chapter on play and a chapter on prayer. And of course a chapter on reading well.  What a lyrical, wonderful, wise and extraordinary book.  Highly recommended.

Imagination in Place  Wendell Berry (Counterpoint) $14.95  At my DBU talks I mentioned in passing Berry’s Standing By Words (and recounted an episode from the novel Jayber Crowe.) This is a fantastic collection of essays united mostly around the theme of place—Berry discusses writers known for the keen sense of locality.  For Berry fans, a few will be expected—Wallace Stegner, Gary Snyder, Donald Hall, poet Hayden Carruth.  A few pieces are on large themes (“Against the Nihil of the Age” and “God, Science, and Imagination.”) God has given us this great ability to use our imaginations, to conjure and suppose.  Berry’s own stories and social imaginary are stellar.  His description of others he esteems are not only informed and helpful, but much needed.  Now out in paperback, this is a great example of a rare kind of literary criticism. 

Literature and Theology  Ralph C. Wood (Abingdon) $11.00  Don’t let the small size and inexpensive price of this paperback fool you–it is one of the best in the excellent “Horizons in Theology” series.  Wood is renowned for a magnificent work on Flannery O’Connor and a very good book on Tolkien, amongst others.  He’s a Texan, too, teaching both literature and theology at Baylor.  Here, he offers exceptional (and really fun) insights as he explores certain authors, even certain scenes in specific novels, highlighting the theological insight of, and power of, the stories.  You’ll enjoy these very winsome analysis of O’Connor, Walker Percy, Tolkien, Eliot.  The piece about doubt and God’s goodness in Lewis’ Til We Have Faces is excellent.  And he has a chapter on the classic sci-fi book by Walter Miller, A Canticle for Leibowitz.

The Sweetest and the Meanest: Poems  Tom Kimmel (Point Clear Press) $15.00  One of the great parts of my trip to Dallas was hearing (and the privilege of hanging out and talking books with) three great Americana singer songer-writers in their own rite, playing under the name The New Agrarians.  Tom Kimmel is highly regarded as guitar player, tunesmith and lyricist, and he also has a wonderfully fun poetry volume. He read from it on occasion throughout the show, in that very southern accent, reading conversations between relatives about life and times, race and religion, in the new south.  This is fun, good stuff. almost like short stories.  Some will make you smile (I guarantee it) and a few might make ya cry.  Enjoy!

The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop: A Memoir, A History  Lewis Buzbee (Greywolf Press) $14.00  For those who just love books and bookstores, this is a beautifully crafted small work, spending much time on the history of the book industry—yes, truly starting in antiquity.  Throughout, Buzbee tells of his own passion for books, his work in a bookstore, and his years as a publisher’s sales rep (calling on booksellers, promoting forthcoming authors and titles.) What lovely fun–history, business, and the celebration of the reading life.

Mysteries of the Middle Ages And the Beginning of the Modern World  Thomas Cahill (Anchor) $22.00  This large paperback is a treasure to behold, with full-color reproductions and a breezy style that makes this compelling reading even for those who don’t typically enjoy history.  In my book lectures I noted How The Irish Saved Civilization, the story of Patrick going to Ireland and creating a historic writing, reading, and book-loving culture.  This is another of Cahill’s fine “Hinges of History” series.  I mention it here in part because I realize that I often (and passionately, for instance in my five part Rob Bell essays) blame monastic culture for helping to dig us into the ditch that suggests prayer is more important than more ordinary human activity or that missionary or priestly callings are higher than the vocations of commerce or farming or politics. That sacred-secular dualism stuff that blends neo-Platonism with gnosticism.  I realize I have only told half of the story, and this wonderfully affirms the other part—the high middle ages were a time of beautiful art, incredible architecture, expanding knowledge (including great love for manuscripts and codices, the forerunner of books.)  One reviewer called the book “intoxicating” and I suggest it now at least for how it illustrates the intellectual richness that foreshadowed the Renaissance.  For a more studious, and highly regarded work on the monastic culture, specifically, see the intellectual tour de force by Jean Leclercq, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God (Fordham University Press.) I’ll also offer a fine shout-out to the latest John Piper, Think: The Life of the Mind and the Love of God which I really, really liked for many reasons.

Besides the Bible: 100 Books that Have, Should, or Will Create Creation Culture  Dan Gibson, Jordan Green, John Pattison et al (Biblica) $14.99  Despite the unwieldy and troublesome subtitle, this book is fabulous, so interesting, and really, really useful.  What fun, and how helpful!  These three guys are real readers (and their blog is spectacular for book lovers!)  Each have their own tastes and theological tendencies and they set out to name 100 key books that everybody should know about.  Alas, they drew in some others they respected and, if you follow BookNotes, you know that I was asked to contribute one review.  So did Donald Miller, Phyllis Tickle, William Young, Karen Spears Zacharias, Peter Rollins, Susan Isaacs, David Dark, Becky Garrison and several others.  Each review is brief, explaining why this book is a “must read.”  You won’t agree with them all, but that is half the fun.  And you know what, I love almost all of these and we stock most of ’em.  Are you desiring to read more, to be a bit better read, to slow down and take up a bookish life for a bit, but don’t know where to start? This book itself is an inspiration and a very helpful guide for further study.  I’m proud to be a small part of it, and happy to highly recommend it to you once again.  Tha
nks for caring.

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