Monday, May 31, 2010

Jesus Manifesto: Restoring the Supremacy and Sovereignty of Jesus Christ (Leonard Sweet and Frank Viola)


The authors of this work contend that the Church (which the authors understand in a fairly inclusive way, irrespective of denominational label or theological bent) is at a significant crossroads. Specifically, their concern is that a profoundly richer, much more intentional Christology is necessary for the Church (collectively and individually) to find its destiny. They refer to this perceived lack as a "Jesus deficit."

In their ten chapters the authors make their best pitch to convince the reader that (1) Jesus Christ is no longer the preeminent Lord in, evidently, the lives of most congregations and individuals, and (2) that the only way to rectify this deficit is for a deeper spiritual awareness developed in relationship with Christ (versus theologizing or formulaic repetitions of confessional statements or merely a sentimentalized version of Jesus as an outstanding "teacher" or "religious" personage).

Frankly, I struggled with the book. Not because I doubt the validity of their claim (my personal predilection is that yes, churches espousing a Christian identity do, in fact, need to proclaim and live with clarity the presence of Christ in corporate and personal faith lives). And not because I am unfamiliar with the often unique writing style of Leonard Sweet (I have read his works over the years, so I can see his alliterative flourishes at work throughout the text). And further, it is not because I misunderstand the genre (it is described as a devotional work).

My struggle is that I am not certain the authors do enough to prove to the reader that their contention (that Jesus is largely lacking from the Church) is accurate on the broad scale. I sense that the authors have in mind specific situations or identified "types" of Christians with whom their concern is laid (I hear more critique of those obliquely identified as "evangelical," and "mainliners" are not left out, either), but the work lacks a clarity of detail in diagnosing the "problem."

I also find a lack of coherence from chapter to chapter. It seems that most chapters could stand on their own as the basis for a (lengthy) sermon. There is little organic connection between chapters, so that by the time the reader reaches the Afterword, which is presented as a letter from Christ to the reader, the ponderous "God language" detracts from the intent of encouraging the reader to establish or re-establish a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. It is ironic that in their attempt to bring the reader to a new place of deeper discovery, where the reader will discover what living in Christ means, the persistent confessional (in the doctrinal sense) language overwhelms the goal.

You may find the thesis and text more inviting and sensible than I have. If not, content yourself with reading the sidebars scattered throughout the book. These alone are worth the price of the book.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255

Friday, May 21, 2010

Marriage and Other Acts of Charity: A Memoir (Kate Braestrup)


Earlier this year I read one of Braestrup's earlier works, Here If You Need Me, which I quite enjoyed, so I was predisposed to like her most recent work (2010): Marriage and Other Acts of Charity: A Memoir. As an ordained minister myself, although not a chaplain but a parish pastor, I find a real sense of connection with Braestrup's work. Although our faith traditions are divergent from one another's (she a Unitarian-Universalist and I a United Methodist), I find her theological reflections delightful, not because I always agree, but because she is so articulate and finessed in expressing her experience of God. Her theological emphasis is that Love is the best way descriptor of and conductor of spiritual connection with the Divine.

Braestrup's work is bound to offend Christians of a more pietistic or evangelical bent. Her language is honest and candid, but not always free of profanity. Her ethical stances on some issues (living together without the benefit of marriage, for example) may also make the more conservative Christian uncomfortable.

But let's be clear. This is not an ethics textbook, nor a theological treatise. Braestrup is writing from within her context as a chaplain for the Maine Warden Service, and her professional work is exercised in connection with many difficult situations, including unexpected and tragic death situations. Those with whom she works most closely are able to do their work by cultivating a gritty sort of take on life, and her task as a chaplain is to find ways to accompany others in their spiritual journeys.

Perhaps this is what I find most refreshing about Braestrup. She is a real person, doing real ministry in the real world. She is anything but sanctimonious, or "other," or disengaged from her ministry context. Indeed, her gift is the ability to communicate elegantly while maintaining the integrity of her ministry context. The reader has the pleasure of benefiting from her theological competence, while capturing a true glimpse of what her work is really like.

This volume includes many of her reflections on marriage, nicely interspersed with both theological reflection and captivating personal accounts (of both her own relationships as well as those with whom she works as chaplain). I'm glad I read this book today because I have two weddings tomorrow, and I may well use some of what I read here in the homilies that I will preach.

If you have never read Kate Braestrup, now is the time, but I would recommend that you first read Here If You Need Me, as it will give you background information that will help make sense of many of the details. If you have read her first book already, you will be happy to know that some of your unanswered questions find closure here.

After reading Here If You Need Me several weeks ago, I did something I rarely do. I found the author's website, posted an email to her with thanks for her excellent writing and promptly forgot about it. To my surprise a few days later I received a personal email from her, thanking me for my comments and telling me that my email had arrived on the anniversary of her first husband's death, and that somehow my appreciation for her work helped to settle her jangled emotions. I was touched by her thoughtfulness in returning an email from an unknown reader. Maybe that's why I'm such a big Kate Braestrup fan!

But no, on second thought, it's not the email I received ... it's the meaning I receive from her work, which is conveyed in such a poignantly personal and loving manner. The email only confirmed what I already "knew" intuitively, that Braestrup has a gift. And is a gift.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith, 1943)


Why did I wait so many years to read this novel first published nearly sixty years ago? I checked it out from my local library a week ago and have been enamored with its style and its story for the past seven days. Although I don't often have large blocks of time to read, the 400+ pages in this volume read quickly

The pages recount the fictional life of the Nolan family at the turn-of-the-last century (as in the early 1900s), situated in Brooklyn, NY (and more specifically in Williamsburg, an economically challenged area of the borough). The author is expert at conveying meaning in a pithy, focused fashion, although there is an elegance to her work that regularly catches the reader by surprise. Smith has the ability to convey the grittiness of her story's context without the taint of cynicism or the undelivered promise of false hope.

Part of the beauty of her work is her ability to convey the internal transformations of her main character, first-born daughter Francie. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn traces the first seventeen years of Francie's life, experience after experience, until she reaches a place of significant transition in her late adolescence.

The book is part fictional history of an era now long gone, part biography (though related as fiction, it has insight too deep not to be at least partly autobiographical), and part a work that explores themes of morality. The moral themes include topics ranging from prostitution to classism to the value of hard work and, always, communication processes. The moral themes are dealt not in a heavy-handed way, but with enough "real-life" detail that the reader must reflect on several levels before coming to any personal conclusions.

Some books I endure, others I reference. There are few books that I laud, but A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is one that has "classic" status for me. Although set in a very clear historical context, the depth of relationship revealed and the dynamics explored make this a relevant read for any era.

Take a tip from this bibliophile. Don't wait as long as I did to read it!

Friday, May 14, 2010

I Am Hutterite (Mary-Ann Kirkby)


Mary-Ann Kirkby invites us, through plain-spoken prose, into another time and place. In little more than 200 pages her personal memoir transports the reader to the Canadian prairie, where her earliest years of life were spent living in the Hutterite way. Throughout her narrative she aptly captures the simplicity and security of a way of life with which most readers are unfamiliar, graciously revealing her own transition from a life of relative isolation to a world much larger than her childhood and early adolescence could have imagined.

Kirkby's work is one characterized by grace offered and received. Her style is plain (not to be confused with unsophisticated, which it is not), offering salient testimony to the inner life of communal peoples like the Hutterites. She describes with heartfelt gratitude the early years of her life's journey, drawing the reader into the beauty and challenges of "community," a concept largely misunderstood by the typical North American reader. The author's economy of language contributes to a work that not only describes the life of the Hutterite, but offers the reader the disquieting realization that perhaps the rest of the world moves too quickly to genuinely understand the values inherent in community living.

This is not a "tell-all" memoir intent on seeking revenge against those who used personal power in coercive ways, nor is it a diatribe crowing the virtues of a life less contained by ancient strictures. It is, rather, a loving, moving tribute to a life that offers its share of joys and depth, as well as its challenges and conflicts. Subtly infused throughout her work is the continuing theme of trespass and forgiveness, culminating in a conclusion that poignantly captures the truth of this polarity.

This is a book for those curious about the plain lifestyle of the Hutterites, but even more convincingly it is an invitation for serious reflection for those influenced by a culture where bigger is better and life lived with few boundaries is seen as a superior way of life. Read the book to quench your curiosity, and then reflect upon its truth to inform the next steps of your spiritual journey.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255