The Yellow Dog(Inspector Maigret #6), Georges Simenon. New York: Penguin Books, 2014 (Originally published in 1931).
Summary: Maigret is called in when a distinguished wine merchant is shot, followed by a murder, a disappearance and another shooting in which a common element in several instances is a yellow dog.
A well-thought of wine merchant makes a late night of it at the Admiral Hotel in the seaside village of Concarneau. Making his way home, he stops to light a cigar, and is shot, though not fatally. A yellow dog shows up nosing around the wounded man. Maigret, setting up a mobile unit, is nearby and called in by the town mayor. He stays at the Hotel and meets an interesting cast of characters. Shortly after he arrives, the doctor, who never practiced but is involved with real estate, recognizes poison on a drink being served. The next day another associate, Jean Serviere vanishes, leaving behind a car with blood-stained seats. Then the doctor has a drink with the third in this circle, Pommeret, who goes home and drops dead of poison.
Hysteria in the town is rising. The dog has been seen several times around the time of the murders as well as a giant vagabond, who becomes the prime suspect in the eyes of most. He is sought–and captured only to break free and elude re-capture. The mayor wants Maigret to do something. Yet he seems curiously inactive, baffling his assistant, who he tells:
‘You’re lucky my friend! Especially in this case, in which my method has actually been not to have one … I’ll give you some good advice: if you’re interested in getting ahead, don’t take me for a model, or invent any theories from what you see me doing.’
Pressed by the mayor to arrest somebody, he arrests the doctor, who is terrified for his own life after what happens to his two associates. While waiting for events to develop that will reveal the murderer, Maigret observes Emma waitress at the Admiral and sometime mistress to the doctor. He senses she knows more than she tells.
When another assault on a customs official occurs, suspicion centers on the vagabond, who is re-captured. But because Maigret has been watching Emma, he knows better as he reveals in a final scene in the doctor’s prison cell.
I have to admit that I was as perplexed as the mayor and the assistant with Maigret, so this was not at all predictable to me, and made Maigret all the more fascinating, particularly for the generous act on his part at the end. Simenon does all this in a short work that can be read in an evening.
Summary: Essays on family, friendships, the life of writing and bookselling, and mortality.
I’ve read most of Ann Patchett’s fiction, loving the writing if not always the ways her stories resolve (or not). I personally consider The Dutch House one of her best, along with Bel Canto. This is my first foray into her non-fiction, and I thought these essays revealed more than the character of Ann Patchett, particularly of her love of friendship and love of both writing and bookselling. It was a collection that reflects on marriage, on our families, on the literary world, and on mortality.
The title essay does all of this. “These Precious Days” is a lengthy account of her unlikely and mutually transforming friendship with Sooki Raphael. Sooki was the personal assistant to Tom Hanks, who Patchett met on an interview with Hanks. Further contacts with Hanks, including asking him to narrate one of her audiobooks led to continued contacts. During one of these, she learned Sooki had undergone surgery and treatments for pancreatic cancer. Staying in touch she learned of the cancer’s recurrence and Sooki’s plans to explore clinical trials. Patchett’s husband, a physician at Vanderbilt, learned of this from Ann, and was aware that Vanderbilt was running a number of clinical trials for pancreatic cancer. This led to Sooki coming to live for several months in Ann and Karl’s basement suite (at the height of Covid-19). The essay beautifully recounts the ways this unexpected friendship transformed both of their lives, as well as the beauty of Ann and Karl accompanying this woman in ways that never diminished her dignity while generously supporting her as she fought this beastly cancer.
In other essays, Patchett describes her three fathers and how each influenced her life. She discusses her decision to not have children, the people who insisted she should, and the intrusive questions she sometimes has faced when she would prefer to talk about her work. She writes about her mother, who often was mistaken as one of Ann’s sisters, due to her youthful beauty. She introduces us to Tavia Cathcart, the bombshell high school friend who moved from acting to becoming a premier nature interpreter, and how their friendship evolved as both she and Ann grew into their adult selves.
There is a healthy dose of gentle humor. She recounts her adventures with her friend Marti in Paris, and the tattoo she never got. She tells the story of a caller who insists on bringing her a letter documenting an award she had received from the Veterans of Foreign Wars, found in a nightstand that had once belonged to her. Then there is an incident where Karl comforts a woman worried about her baby’s development by offering the woman $20,000 to adopt the child! No way, and the woman stopped worrying. She describes her year when she gave up shopping. She recalls the Thanksgiving when she stayed at her college and decided to cook Thanksgiving dinner for her friends–from scratch! She writes about her husband’s love of flying–and of his insistence on finding deals on used planes. She reveals her on again, off again embrace of knitting.
She offers us glimpses of the literary world. Under her hand you find yourself drawn successively into Kate DiCamillo’s works for children and the work of Eudora Welty. In “A Talk to the Association of Graduate School Deans in the Humanities” she chronicles her experience in the MFA program at the Iowa Writer’s Workshop with her friend Lucy, her one interview for a faculty position and how failing to get that position gave her the chance to write. She speaks of the joys of owning a bookstore and the important lesson she didn’t learn in grad school–“if you want to save reading, teach children to read.”
Patchett recounts her own memento mori moment upon being elected to the American Academy of Arts and Letters, an honor reserved to 250 living members. She describes the portrait gallery in the Academy with photos arranged in order of members induction, going back to Samuel Clemens in 1898 up to her own picture in 2017. As she went back in time she realized she was moving increasingly from the company of living members to the deceased. At some point they all were. She realizes this will be true of her. She describes the simple card she receives with the death of another member, forty between her induction and the time of writing, including John Updike, who she had been so thrilled to be seated with at her own induction. She remembers his handing her the certificate of membership, a check, and giving her a fatherly kiss on the cheek.
Patchett brings to these essays the same insightfulness into the complexities and wonders of human beings, their relationships, and their lives as she does to the characters in her novels. One senses we are seeing all of this woven together in another story, that of the author, who writes with increasing appreciation of “these precious days” in her circles of family, friends, and acquaintances. And it nudges us to be mindful of similar “precious days” with the people and in the work we love.
Summary: The story of three generations of the family of Big Ammachi of Parambil, the ever present reality of “the Condition” resulting in a drowning in every generation, a story both of love and the hope in advances in medicine.
Twelve year old Mariamma has been engaged in a brokered marriage to a forty year old widow, the owner of a 500 acre estate near the town of Parambil. Her mother tells her, “The saddest day of a girl’s life is the day of her wedding….After that, God willing, it gets better.” I began reading with a sense of foreboding of what would happen to this girl in the house of this man. And I was surprised. At the wedding, he runs away, mortified that she is a mere child. But they wed. And he leaves her to her own room, and lets her learn the management of the household, lets her mature, lets her bond with his son, JoJo, and lets her realize that he has loved her by providing her time to come to love him. And so begins this incredible story spanning three generations within the Mar Thoma Christian community of South India.
When JoJo falls into what is little more than a puddle and drowns, she learns of “The Condition.” It explains the distance of the house from the river, the fact that her husband will not travel on the water. She is shown a genealogy. Every generation has a death from drowning. And JoJo’s name is added. Eventually Mariamma, who has become Big Ammachi, a capable manager of her household, bears another child, a girl with a developmental difficulty leaving her a perpetual child. Baby Mol brings perpetual love and an uncanny prescience about events. Fifteen years pass, and at a point of giving up hope, Big Ammachi has a son, named Philipose.
Philipose has the condition. Sent to college in Madras, he soon quits due to deafness that impedes his ability to follow the lectures. On the carriage home, he meets Elsie Chandy, an artist, and is smitten. They’d had a brief encounter when Philipose risked his life carrying a dying child on a river barge during floods to the nearest hospital, and was given a ride home by Elsie and her father. He strives to educate himself and becomes a writer, producing a column, “The Ordinary Man” widely followed throughout the country. Eventually, through a broker, Elsie’s family agrees to the marriage. It seems like a beautiful love affair, that sadly ends with the tragic death of their child Ninan. They blame each other and Philipose, injured trying to rescue Ninan, falls into opium addiction. Elsie leaves but returns when she learns Baby Mol is pining for her, and in failing health. Philipose and Elsie are intimate once and it is soon evident that Elsie is pregnant. As she approaches delivery, she has a seizure. Big Ammachi assists in a difficult breech birth, nearly costing the mother her life.
The baby is named Mariamma, after her grandmother. Soon after her recovery, Elsie disappears after going to the river to bathe, her body never found. Philipose sorts out his life, becomes an exemplary father, and continues his writing work, turning over his estate to Shamuel, and eventually, Shamuel’s son Joppan, to operate. Big Ammachi has dreamed of both a hospital in Parambil, and that her grand-daughter would become a doctor and find the cause of “The Condition” that plagues her family.
The book also involves a parallel plot line in which a young Scottish doctor, Digby Kilgour, goes to India to acquire surgical experience. Working for an incompetent superior, he has an affair with the superior’s wife, ending in a tragic fire that only he survives, with his right hand badly burned. A couple, grateful for an earlier medical intervention on his part, shelter him and connect him with a doctor working with lepers, who operates on his hand. He is helped by a young girl who helps him recover fine movements in the hand through drawing. Through much of the novel, we wonder what the what the connection of this plotline is with the main plotline of Big Ammachi and her family. Hang in there. There is one.
The story spans the period from 1900 to 1977. India goes through huge transformations through this time that serve as a backdrop for the novel, from a British colony par excellence to an independent country, seeking to modernize amid political ferment, with the electrification of the countryside and advances in medicine and modern technology. We get some sense in the novel of how this presses against traditional caste divisions, particularly in the relations between the family of Big Ammachi and Shamuel and his son Joppan.
I found the writing particularly engaging. It felt to me that Abraham Verghese writes with the same reverence for his characters that he has for his patients (he is a Professor and Vice Chair of the Department of Medicine at Stanford). One senses a deep sympathy for his characters, even as they struggle with tragedy, estrangement, and the vicissitudes of life and death. He portrays a community shaped by faith, love, and purpose. And he conveys the noble possibilities of the medical profession, evident in Rune Orquist, the doctor of a leper mission who operates on Kilgour’s hand, and in Mariamma, and the professors who train her. To read Verghese is to read a consummate story weaver who has thought deeply about the human condition in its frailty and fallibility, in the powerful bonds upon which our lives and loves depend, and in the hopes and holy aspirations that represent the best in human striving.
Photographer unknown, Charles Blondin, Public Domain
Did you watch in 2020 when Nik Wallenda walked 1800 feet on a cable across the mouth of the Masaya volcano, an active volcano in Nicaragua? That was truly scary and unimaginable for this guy with two left feet. Wallenda not only comes from a family of wire walkers but is the latest in a long history of them.
One of the greatest high wire artists was a man known as Charles Blondin or “The Great Blondin” and he filled the newspapers with stories about him during the latter half of the nineteenth century. He was born Jean François Gravelet on February 28, 1824 in Hesdin, Pas-de-Calais, France. He was trained as an acrobat and made his first appearance as “The Boy Wonder” at age 5 or 6. He came to the United States in 1855 and achieved fame in 1859 when he walked an 1100 foot cable stretched across Niagara Falls. He repeated this feat a number of times blindfolded or pushing a wheelbarrow or carrying his manager on his back or on stilts. One time, he stopped midway and cooked and ate an omelet!
In 1869, the same year he rode a bicycle across a highwire in the Crystal Palace in London, to the acclaim of the Prince of Wales, he visited Youngstown. A highwire was strung across West Federal Street from the Excelsior Building (roughly in the same location as the Paramount Theater was located) to the Gerstle Building, just east of Hazel Street. Horse and buggy rigs and spectators gathered in the street below to watch him walk above Federal Street as easily as those below walked on it. This was exciting stuff for the small town of Youngstown. You can see a photograph in this Business Journalarticle. He can be seen in the middle of the cable in the picture. He stayed in the Tod House during his visit.
He continued to wow the crowds for many years. In 1896, at the age of 72, he crossed a lake in Leeds several times, repeating the feat blindfolded one time, and once again. stopping to cook an omelet on another transit. He died February 22 of the following year, just short of his 73rd birthday.
I would guess that he walked no more than 150 feet or so from one building to the other (John Young laid the street out as 100 feet wide, far less than his other feats. But I suspect few if any in the crowd would or could do what he did, nor any of us reading. This was big news in 1869!
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
Abraham’s Silence, J. Richard Middleton. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2021.
Summary: Challenges the traditional reading of the binding of Isaac that valorizes Abraham’s silence as unquestioning obedience and faith, contending that God wanted more than silent obedience.
Abraham is held up as an exemplar of faith, who believed God and was reckoned righteous. Perhaps nowhere is this view of Abraham held up more than in the binding of Isaac in Genesis 22, known to Jewish readers as the Aqedah, from the Hebrew “to bind.” Abraham’s unquestioning obedience is upheld as a model of faith, that “God would provide the lamb,” that Abraham believed that he and Isaac would return to the servants. and the testimony of Hebrews 11:17-19 that Abraham believed “God could even raise the dead, and so in a manner of speaking he did receive Isaac back from death.”
Yet many thoughtful readers find this narrative disturbing. The idea that God would command such a sacrifice, even as a test, disturbs (although it must be noted that God prevents the act, subsequently forbidding all child sacrifice, in contrast to the gods of surrounding peoples.) Yet the images of the bound Isaac, and the raised knife shake us. What also disturbs J. Richard Middleton is the silence of Abraham. The narrative record does not record Abraham saying anything to God. He rises early the next morning (perhaps to avoid Sarah?), packs up the donkey with wood, and leaves with Isaac and two servants. No plea to spare his son for the sake of the promise. No plea to take him rather than the child of the promise. No nothing. Middleton proposes that part of the test is whether Abraham would talk back to God.
Middleton makes the case that there is a strong element running through scripture of “lament with an edge.” This is seen throughout the Psalms where God’s people cry out to God in pain and suffering that it doesn’t seem that God sees or hears, wondering how long he will permit this. Moses challenges God, convincing God to spare Israel despite their idolatry, pleading God’s reputation among the nations. He refuses to settle for less than God’s presence with him. And God accedes to all this and reveals himself as the God of steadfast love and faithfulness.
Much of the book, Part Two, is devoted to the exemplar par excellence of talking back to God–Job. He contends that Job’s vigorous protest is approved by God, in contrast to the counsel of his “comforters.” The fact that God speaks twice indicates he wants Job to speak back
Against this Old Testament backdrop, Middleton contends Abraham stands out in his silence. He acknowledges the scholarship of Walter Moberly and Jon Levenson that rules out criticisms of Abraham because these are external to the text. Middleton credits this precept but contends there are subtle textual cues to suggest that God wanted more than silent obedience. He notes the shift from YHWH to elohim, suggesting the test involved whether Abraham would perceive something different about the God of the covenant from the gods (elohim) of surrounding peoples. He notes the early departure, perhaps to avoid discussion with Sarah, and the three-day silent journey to a location that should have taken a day (Abraham doesn’t want to do this, but says nothing, just drags his feet), And there are the words to Isaac, “God will provide the lamb, my son.” Middleton says we assume the comma but what if this was not in Abraham’s mind? Middleton includes an amusing comic here to make the point.
Perhaps most striking is that afterward, Isaac parts from Abraham, returning only to bury Abraham. Sarah is also recorded as living apart from Abraham. Isaac’ life in many ways is a parenthesis between Abraham and Jacob. Middleton wonders how different this would have been if Abraham advocated for his son. For example in Jacob’s eyes, the God of Abraham is the fear of Isaac. Middleton wonders if the family dysfunctions of this family began at this time.
Middleton proposes that Abraham barely passes the test, maybe a “C”–he obeys–but that God wanted more. He wanted to see if Abraham would actively speak back, to advocate for the son and for the promise. Sadly, he did not, and also failed to see the richness of God’s mercy.
There is much to be said for this proposal. There is a pattern of Abraham’s willingness to put others at jeopardy–Sarah, Ishmael, and Hagar. In each instance God bales them out, as he does with Isaac. The exception seems to be Lot and Sodom, in Genesis 18, where Abraham pleads from fifty to ten righteous to save the city. Middleton notes that even here, he stops, though Lot and his family number less than ten. Fearing to anger God (although God showed no anger with his pleading), he fails discover how far God’s mercy would go. All he sees is the destruction of the cities, not knowing of Lot’s rescue…and he just moves on. Would Abraham go further in pleading for “his only son, the son he loved”? He doesn’t.
There is also the fallout of the binding in the fracturing of the family, and the likely trauma to Isaac. God works redemptively over the generations, but was this what God intended? Middleton raises profound questions that make us look afresh at this narrative.
Yet I find Middleton unconvincing on several counts. There are Abraham’s utterances to Isaac and the servants. Middleton treats these as brave but unbelieving when in fact they prove out. There is the specific approbation of the angel of the Lord and the restatement of the promise of blessing. Middleton notes subtleties in the language that in his mind qualify this approbation. I found them unconvincing.
I also looked for a discussion of Hebrews 11:17-19 in the text. Christians “valorize” (to use Middleton’s term) Abraham at least in part because of this text, taking our cue for how we read the story from the inspired writer of Hebrews. Middleton’s discussion was not to be found in the text but only in a footnote (59) on page 213-214. He writes:
“The New Testament also seems to validate Abraham’s attempt to sacrifice Isaac. In Heb. 11:17-19, Abraham is praised for his faith in the resurrection (he believed God could raise Isaac), which is the reason why he went ahead with the sacrifice of his son. Beyond noting that the explicit doctrine of the resurrection did not arise until after the exile. I would point to Heb. 11:32, which list none other than Jephthah as a hero of faith (in contrast to his portrayal as an unsavory character in Judg. 11). This is clearly based on extra-biblical tradition and not on the biblical text itself.“
Middleton’s argument is to find one questionable element (Jephthah) in the Hebrews 11 account to throw shade on the account of Abraham. This, to me is not an adequate argument for why Christians should not heed the testimony of Hebrews 11 concerning Abraham, and placing such an argument in a footnote reflects to me a reluctance to address evidence that contradicts his argument.
What Middleton does for me is make me look afresh at this challenging text. Along with him, I find myself wondering at Abraham’s silence toward God. I’m less certain than Middleton that Abraham barely passed the test but I do find myself wondering “what if?” I find myself wondering about the “cost” of this test to Abraham’s family. Yes, God did provide the sacrifice but Abraham, at least in a relational sense, lost a son (and, it seems, Sarah as well). What Middleton does is offer a challenge to address these costs for traditional views that valorize Abraham. He also offers the examples of vigorous prayers that take God seriously enough to lament and to contend with God. Whatever my questions about his reading of Abraham, this is a contribution I can wholeheartedly affirm.
Summary: An exploration of how Christians should read Old Testament prophets in light of the work of Christ and of how the apostolic witnesses read them.
In my Jesus movement days, we read prophecy in one hand and the newspaper in the other, looking for how prophets were speaking to our day. In seminary, I learned hermeneutic principles and historico-critical methods that sought to understand the prophets in their own historic context and in terms of what the prophets would have meant for their intended readers to understand.
But in reading the gospels, I became aware of another way of reading the prophets. Both Jesus himself, and the apostles whose witness constitute the New Testament, saw the prophets fulfilled in Christ. There is the sense that the prophets spoke of more than they knew, that there was a fuller sense (sensus plenior) to their testimony that the apostles understood in the light of Christ. The question is, is it legitimate for us to read the prophets this way, and if so, what safeguards protect us from idiosyncratic interpretations that depart not only from the Old Testament text but legitimate readings in light of the apostolic witness? It is with this question that this book deals.
The approach the authors take is to focus on the major prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel. For each prophet, there are five chapters focused on these topics, each from a different contributor:
How the Apostles Read the Major Prophets as Christian Scripture
Limits on Reading the Major Prophets as Christian Scripture
Reading the Major Prophets in the Footsteps of the Apostles
The History of Interpretation of the Major Prophets as Christian Scripture
Preaching the Major Prophets as Christian Scripture
Because all these prophets are long books, the contributors focus in on one key text, cited in the New Testament, addressing it in terms of their topic. The passages are the Servant Song of Isaiah 42:1-4, the New Covenant passage in Jeremiah 31: 31-34, and the valley of dry bones passage in Ezekiel 37:1-14.
The authors differ in approach. A number favor following the apostles in reading the prophets in a fuller sense in light of the work of Christ. Some are more cautious, willing to endorse the apostles readings but careful about going further. A basic principle they follow is that while a passage may mean more than the prophet intended, it can never mean less–the prophet’s intent is always the starting point. All, in varying degrees, support interpreting passages Christologically.
One of the most valuable aspects of the book are the chapters on the history of interpretation. Understanding this history and why certain approaches were later rejected is instructive to our own interpretive readings and the differences among us. One of the editors, William R. Osborne, observes, “In fact, if we believe the Word of God has been given to the people of God, communal reading and interpretation is foundational to the humble pursuit of truth” (p. 313). The strength of this work is not only the communal reading among the fifteen contributors but also their inclusion of the history of interpretation of these texts, include in the bibliographic references provided.
I also appreciate that the authors differentiate from a reader-oriented approach that asks “what does this prophet mean for our community?” by taking a redemptive-canonical approach that asks that asks “what does this prophet mean in light of our crucified, risen, and ascended Lord Jesus?” (cf. p. 317). The fuller reading of the prophets doesn’t mean anything goes (as could be the case in my Jesus movement days) but a fuller reading guided by the New Testament itself.
This is a valuable reference for those who would teach or preach these prophets (there is even advice on this) as well as those concerned with the apostolic and historic interpretation of these texts. The scholars contributing to this volume are experts in the material on which they write (John N. Oswalt in Isaiah, for example). Since these three major prophets are so often quoted or alluded to throughout the New Testament, working through the issues of interpretation in this book will enhance our reading of the New Testament. Place this alongside your best commentaries on Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel.
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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for review.
The Devil’s Novice(Chronicles of Brother Cadfael #8), Ellis Peters. New York: Mysterious Press/Open Road Media, 2014 (Originally published in 1983).
Summary: Meriet Aspley is called the “Devil’s Novice” for his nightmares, his awkwardness among the brothers, and an attack leaving him consigned to Brother Mark, where he finds the body of a man he later confesses to have murdered.
Even Meriet Aspley’s arrival at Saints Peter and Paul is awkward from the cold and distant parting from his father to his over-zealousness to be received as a monk. Then there are the nightmares, calmed by Cadfael but arousing talk of him being the “devil’s novice.” When found with a girl’s ornament, he nearly chokes Brother Jerome to death when the brother takes it from him and burns it. For punishment, he is sent to the lazar house to work with Brother Mark, work he takes to well.
Meanwhile, news arrives that Pieter Clemence, a church emissary who had visited the Aspley manor has gone missing, and subsequently his horse is found near boggy ground. Clemence is assumed dead. Hugh Beringar as sheriff helps to investigate. Cadfael, as an emissary from the abbey helps both abbot and Hugh by visiting the Aspley manor. He meets Janyn, the twin of Roswithia, who is to marry Nigel, the favored son of Leoric Aspley, Nigel and Meriet’s father. He learns nothing of Clemence except that he was escorted on his way for a short distance by the father and two servants. He does learn of the affection of Isouda Foriet, from another neighboring manor, for Meriet, and that she is determined to marry him and doubts his call as a monk.
Subsequently, on a mission to gather wood for the lazar house, Meriet leads them to a place he knew where his family stored wood to make charcoal. They discover the remains of a man with a cross and ring that identify him as Clemence. They also find an arrow in his chest. Hugh is looking for a murderer. When a beggar as apprehended for theft, he is carrying a dagger that belonged to Clemence. They hold but don’t charge him for murder but allow word to get out. When Meriet hears that the beggar has been charged, he surprises everyone with a confession. The father had agreed to cover things up, sending Meriet to the abbey. Yet Meriet’s story doesn’t add up. Cadfael and Beringar suspect someone else.
All the possible “persons of interest” will be at the wedding of Roswithia and Nigel and so Hugh and Cadfael bide their time. Amid all this, we have the resolute and ingenious Isouda, who conspires with Cadfael to visit Meriet and later uncovers a key piece of evidence. Her character brought a needed contrast to the seriousness of Meriet and his father, Leoric.
Why Clemence was murdered remains a puzzle. When the answer comes, it will reveal larger conspiracies and lead to another murder attempt. But what of Meriet and Isouda? You’ll just have to read the book to find out!
Summary: A biblical, historical, and theological argument within the Wesleyan tradition for holiness understood as “entire sanctification” or Christian perfection, able not to sin and to wholeheartedly love God and neighbor.
This book caught my attention for the simple reason that it seems to have fallen out of fashion to speak of Christian holiness, often equated with a “holier than thou” attitude and a kind of Pharisaism of outer holiness and inner corruption. It is far more “authentic” to be honest about our sins than to discuss our longing to grow in Christlike holiness.
This is a book by a group of Wesleyan scholars who take seriously statements like “be holy as I am holy,” “be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect,” and “may the God of peace sanctify you entirely.” They refuse to believe that these only refer to some post-mortem state but are possible to fulfill within this lifetime. They argue that this is not an idea only first propounded by John Wesley but is grounded in scripture and present throughout the history of the church. They also examine versions of holiness theology and argue for a “semi-Augustinian” theology and a “middle way” of seeking until one receives, recognizing the priority of divine grace.
The book is organized into four parts;
Holiness In the Old Testament. in successive chapters they examine the teaching on holiness in the Pentateuch, the Historical books and the Prophets, and the Wisdom Literature. The emphasis is on holiness as otherness and Israel’s inability to fulfill the law and the prophecy of a new covenant writing this law on the hear, empowering what is commanded.
Holiness in the New Testament. Chapters are devoted to holiness in the Gospels and Acts, the Letters of Paul, and the General Epistles and Revelation. The holiness of Jesus and his command to be perfect are discussed, the latter best understood as being fully developed in a moral sense through the work of Jesus and the power of the Spirit. Likewise, while Paul recognizes that people do sin, holiness is the norm, meant to be worked out in every aspect of life (entire sanctification) as the Spirit works within us and bears his fruit in our lives. The authors point to similar calls to holiness in the General Epistles and Revelation.
Holiness in Christian History. Three chapters discuss in succession early Christian history, the Middle Ages, and the Pre-modern and Modern Eras. They examine the differing ideas of the patristic writers and the shared sense that the love of God leads to freedom from sin, obedience to Christ and love of neighbor. They note the confining of perfection to the monastics in the Middle Ages and a renewed focus in the Reformation, culminating in Wesleyan and Anabaptist/Pietist Circles.
A Theology of Holiness. Three chapters discuss holiness and human sin, holiness and redemption, and the when and how of holiness. They begin with God’s intention for us, and the guilt power and being of sin. They discuss justification, sanctification, and glorification, and the possibility of entire sanctification, being perfect in love for God and neighbor, and allow that within such sanctification, there may be continuing progress toward maturity, as well as falling back. Finally they discuss the three ways–shorter, middle, and longer, rejecting the former as too dependent on human initiative, and the latter reflecting insufficient faith in the grace of God to transform.
I think this book makes an important contribution to highlighting the call of God for his people to be holy and for God’s empowering of the life to which we are called in Christ. It offers an attractive vision of unreservedly loving God and neighbor as within reach of the ordinary believer. They rightly observe that we can be far too accepting of sin that God would have us put to death.
I still find myself with questions that I would love to discuss with Wesleyan believers. Where is discussion of the idea of total depravity in the doctrine of sin (it is only mentioned in the final chapter in the context of discussing “semi-Augustinianism”), terminology that is avoided in the authors discussion? The pervasive presence of sin in every aspect of human existence raises question for me about the “perfection” of love. I recognize the ways I’m blind to sin apart from God revealing that sin, and the ways I self-deceive. How are such aspects of sin reckoned with in a doctrine of entire sanctification?
Likewise, I’m puzzled by “semi-Augustinianism.” Can something be semi-Augustinian without also being semi-Pelagian? It seems that the distinction is the role of prevenient grace in empowering human will. It points up to me a question that still would seem to distinguish Wesleyan from Reformed doctrines of sanctification, namely between those that prioritize grace, as do these authors and those that would contend that our sanctification, as is our justification, is all of grace.
At the same time, none of this should prevent the believer in the pursuit of a holy life and to experience liberty from not only sin’s guilt but its power in one’s life. Likewise, the authors emphasize not only what we are freed from but what we are freed and empowered to–namely the unrestrained love of God and neighbor–and that this is God’s intention for us in Christ. This is part of our rich inheritance in Christ that seems neglected or even denigrated in some quarters. I’m grateful for these Wesleyan voices bringing these matters for wider consideration.
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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for review.
This month’s collection of reviews, seventeen in all, includes a review of a wonderful set of theological reflections on Christmas that explores ways our practices of lights, decorations, and gifts may reflect our theology of the incarnation. I also reviewed a forthcoming book on the cross, thought-provoking and well-written though I could not agree with some of the conclusions of the writer. I also had the somewhat puzzling experience of reading a book on reading Barth that didn’t so much give me pointers in reading Barth as it did the author’s reading of the great theologian. Likewise, I reviewed a book that seemed to be offering a dialogue on two approaches to Paul, It turned out it was two older essays set beside each other with one of the authors being deceased! This left the reader to provide the dialogue!
On a more positive note, I began the month reading a thoughtful book on how certain kinds of constraints facilitate our spiritual growth. I delighted in seeing the first book by a blogger who helped me through the pandemic, which expanded on her ideas as a Christian epidemiologist of we might expand our vision for loving neighbors through understanding some of the global public health challenges we face today. I worked through a great commentary on John in the “Through Old Testament Eyes” series and a thoughtful book on suffering. Along the way, I read a couple Campions, a Cadfael, and the first in the Cork O’Connor series by William Kent Krueger. Rounding out the month, I read a history of Istanbul spanning over two millenia, an account of Lincoln’s sixteen days at Grant’s headquarters at the end of the Civil War and how it changed him, and a Nobel Prize-winning novel by Kenzaburo Oe, a Japanese novelist.
Finding Freedom in Constraint, Jared Patrick Boyd. Downers Grove: IVP Formatio, 2023. Proposes that constraints in terms of spiritual practices in the context of community, expose our inner desires, allowing them to be healed and formed by Christ. Review
Look to the Lady(Albert Campion #3), Margery Allingham. New York: Open Road Media, 2023 (Originally published in 1931). Albert Campion assists the Gyrth family in protecting a priceless chalice in the family for hundreds of years against an international theft ring focused on creating private collections of priceless treasures. Review
Reading Karl Barth: Theology That Cuts Both Ways, Chris Boesel. Eugene. OR: Cascade Books, 2023. A synopsis of the major themes of Barth’s theology and theological ethics, showing how his theology “cuts both ways” against the theological left and right while it centers on God’s “Yes” to us in Christ. Review
Christmas, The Season of Life and Light (Fullness of Time series), Emily Hunter McGowin. Downers Grove: IVP Formatio, 2023. Spiritual and theological reflections to aid readers in their celebration and spiritual formation around the season of Christmas. Review
Istanbul, Thomas F. Madden. New York: Viking, 2016. A history of this great city at the meeting place of Europe and Asia from the Byantine Empire beginning in 667 BC through the modern Istanbul up to 2016. Review
The Wood Between the Worlds, Brian Zahnd. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, (Forthcoming) 2024. An approach to the kaleidoscopic theological meaning of the cross. the center of the biblical story through the lens of poetry. Review
Lincoln’s Greatest Journey, Noah Andre Trudeau. El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2016. A day by day account of the final trip Abraham Lincoln took for sixteen days at City Point, Virginia, the headquarters of Ulysses S. Grant, and how this transformed Lincoln. Review
The Sanctuary Sparrow, Ellis Peters. New York: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road, 2014 (Originally published in 1983). A young traveling entertainer at a wedding seeks sanctuary in the abbey, pursued by a mob accusing him of murdering and robbing the groom’s father while Cadfael and Hugh explore the possibility of other suspects closer to home. Review
Iron Lake(Cork O’Connor #1), William Kent Krueger. New York: Atria Paperbacks, 2019 (20th Anniversary edition, originally published in 1998). A murdered judge and a missing paperboy sets former sheriff Cork O’Connor onto the trail of a conspiracy, a trail on which this won’t be the last death. Review
John Through Old Testament Eyes, Karen H. Jobes, series editor Andrew T. LePeau. Grand Rapids: Kregel Academic, 2023. A commentary focused on the Old Testament backgrounds of “history, images, metaphors, and symbols” found in John’s gospel, along with applicatory reflections. Review
Paul, Narrative or Apocalyptic, Christiaan Beker and N.T. Wright. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2023. Essays by two leading N.T. scholars representing the main distinctive views of Paul, either focusing on the age to come and the return of Christ to inaugurate new creation or the narrative continuity with the covenant fulfilled in Christ opening into the inclusion of the Gentiles. Review
Even If He Doesn’t, Kristen LaValley. Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale Momentum, (Forthcoming February) 2024. Summary: A memoir of facing suffering and all the questions of why and where is God and does God hear. Review
Police at the Funeral(Albert Campion #4), Margery Allingham. New York: Open Road Media, 2023 (Originally published in 1931). A request to find a missing uncle turns into a multiple murder investigation in an unhappy Cambridge manor. Review
Every Book Its Reader, Nicholas A. Basbanes. New York: Harper Perennial, 2006. A celebration of those who compiled book lists and made recommendations, the impact of books on various individuals, and the reading lives of famous individuals. Review
Now I Lay Me Down to Fight, Katy Bowser Hutson (Foreword by Tish Harrison Warren). Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2023. Poems and essays tracing one woman’s cancer journey and how she encountered God amid the brokenness of her body. Review
The Science of the Good Samaritan, Dr. Emily Smith. Grand Rapids: Zondervan Books, 2023. A book that looks at what it means to love our neighbor through the lens of global public health. Review
A Quiet Life, Kenzaburo Oe (Translators: Kunioki Yanagishita, William Wetherall). New York: Grove Press, 1998. Ma-chan, a quiet, college age woman is left to care for her older brother who has a neurological disorder and younger, college-bound brother while her father, a famous writer, sorts out his life and faith in California on a writer’s residency. Review
Book of the Month: Now I Lay Me Down To Fight. As the husband of a breast cancer survivor, Katy Bowser Hutson’s little book of poems and essays resonated in so many ways with our experience, although no two cancers or cancer journeys are alike. Her writing captures well the distinct challenges of chemo, surgery, and radiation, the fears, the exhaustion, the bodily indignities, and the spiritual journey with all its ups and downs. You are, know, or will know someone who faces this. I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t find this book helpful.
Quote of the Month: Kristen LeValley has written a thoughtful book on her own experience of facing suffering and what it meant to cry out to God with her questions amid that experience. She made this valuable observation to encourage both those who suffer and those who walk with them:
“We don’t have to tie things up with a pretty bow to make sure we’re presenting God in the best light. We don’t have to justify our heartbreak to prove that God is still good. We don’t have to find a target so it will make sense. We don’t have to defend God’s goodness by dismissing the pain of our experiences” (p. 187).
What I’m Reading. Over the Christmas holidays I began Abraham Verghese’s The Covenant of Water, a gorgeously written novel set in South India spanning much of the twentieth century. I’m about 400 pages into this 700+ page novel and can’t say enough good about it. I just finished a book on a Wesleyan theology on holiness arguing for the idea of entire sanctification–something I’ve not heard much about in recent years. I’m also reading The Prophets and the Apostolic Witness: Reading Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel as Christian Scripture. The authors explore to what extent we may read these books not only in terms of their context but in light of the work of Christ. Abraham’s Silence explores the significance of Abraham’s silence when commanded by God to sacrifice his son. This is an incident I’ve thought long on and am eager to see what J. Richard Middleton will say. Hal Green’s book Pray This Way To Connect With God is a rich book on page organized into short, two page reflections on the natire of prayer and how we may do so. Finally, I’m in the middle of my eighth Cadfael, loving this series more with each book.
In case you missed them I posted several end of the year posts you might enjoy
Bob on Books Best of 2023. My choices of the best books I’ve reviewed in a number of categories in 2023.
The Month in Reviews is my monthly review summary going back to 2014!It’s a great way to browse what I’ve reviewed. The search box on this blog also works well if you are looking for a review of a particular book.
It has been nearly ten years since I began writing about my hometown of Youngstown. Thankfulness is a true expression of what I feel for the richness of our town’s history, culture, physical places, and especially it’s food. I am also thankful for all the people I’ve met both in person and online who get why Youngstown has been such a great place for so many who grew up there. Along the way, I’ve learned SO much that I didn’t know during the 22 years I lived there.
Ten years of articles. Nearly 500 articles! That’s a lot of articles. Here, in one place, are your favorites. Each year, under a several different titles, I’ve listed the ten most viewed posts of the year–your favorites. To celebrate ten years of these, I’ve created a list of links by year to those “Top Ten” posts. Click on the year and it will take you to the list of Top Ten Favorites for each year. I also say a bit about some of the favorites for that year and link to the top viewed post for that year.
2015. This “Top Ten” post itself became the most highly viewed post I’ve ever written. Among the articles was one on Neighborhood Bars (still often viewed), Pierogies, WHOT, Front Porches, and Cookie Tables. Your favorite of 2015: Kolachi (still a holiday favorite!).
2016. Some of your favorites were articles on Holy Name Church and School, Shopping Plazas, Spinning Bowl Salads (with the owner’s dressing recipe), The Silver Bridge, and Wedding Soup. Your favorite of 2016:Haluski
2017. You liked posts on Iconic Places (lots of pictures), Coal Mining, The Civil War Soldiers Monument, Jay’s Famous Hot Dogs, Italian Food, and Sides of Town. Your favorite of 2017:The View From Home. The image for this article was from a painting called “Morning Drive” by talented local artist Christopher Leeper, showing a view of the Valley from Mahoning Avenue, just west of Portland, the street on which I grew up. We now have a print of that picture in our home–it was the view I saw every day (and now still see!).
2018. Some of the top viewed posts from this year included The Great Thanksgiving Storm of 1950, Boots Bell (I received a t-shirt with an image of Boots from his daughter after that one!), Brier Hill (before it was a pizza), The Great Flood of 1913, and Brownlee Woods (where my wife grew up). Your favorite of 2018:Salt Springs (which includes a map printed by Ben Franklin in 1755 showing its location).
2019. The George Borts Farm, articles on Oak Hill and Calvary Cemeteries, Esther Hamilton, George Renner, Jr. (the owner of the Renner Brewery), The Blizzard of 1978, and Zedaker Farm were all popular articles. Your favorite of 2019: Southern Park Mall.
2020. You liked articles on Elijah Boardman, John Struthers and the Simon Family. Two greats from my alma mater, Chaney High School, were like by others, one on football great Frank Sinkwich and one on coach and teacher Ed Matey, who passed shortly before the post was written. A post on the 1918 Pandemic in Youngstown drew a number of views in this first year of the pandemic. Your favorite of 2020:Liberty Township.
2021. Some of the popular articles from this year included the story of Caroline Bonnell, a Titanic survivor from Youngstown, posts on South High School, the Village of Poland, and Gypsy Lane (which got its name from real gypsies. I found out that there were many names of Slumgullion. You loved a story on Youngstown as a Front Porch City. Your favorite of 2021:Pat Bilon (the Youngstown actor who played E.T.).
2022. You were interested in the story of the Indian Scout Statue in front of the Butler, the inspiring life of Sue Thomas, deaf from 18 months who became an FBI investigator and the inspiration for a TV series, the brilliant and tragic life of Elizabeth Hartman, the history of Chaney High School, What We Did on Cold Winter Days, and the story behnd the Old Rugged Cross in Lake Park Cemetery. Your favorite of 2022:The Underground Railroad.
2023. This past week I posted your favorites of 2023 which included a feature on the Corneerburg Neighborhood, the story of Youngstown actor Joe Flynn, a brief history of Woodrow Wilson High School, stories about John A. Logan and the Shields family, and how the term “devil strip” is somewhat unique to Youngstown and northeast Ohio. Your favorite of 2023:East Palestine (written shortly after the major rail derailment).
I hope you enjoy this look back at some of the all-time favorite articles, perhaps during half-time in one of the bowl games or a quiet time between New Year’s festivities. I enjoyed this walk down memory lane and was reminded both of how much we love our food and how curious we are about our history. And I look forward to learning more and interacting with you all about our home town of Youngstown and the Mahoning Valley in 2024. Happy New Year!
To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.”Enjoy!
