Review: The Sanctuary Sparrow

The Sanctuary Sparrow, Ellis Peters. New York: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road, 2014 (Originally published in 1983).

Summary: 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.

It is the time for midnight matins at the abbey, usually peaceful. Instead, the monks hear the sound of an uproar growing louder. Then in bursts a lithe young man pursued by an angry and drunken mob. The young man, Liliwin, is a traveling juggler and singer, hired to entertain at Daniel Aurifaber’s wedding to Margery, daughter of a rich family. Daniel is at the head of the mob (rather than in bed with his bride) accusing Liliwin of murdering and robbing his father, a goldsmith. Liliwin claims that after he had been turned out without being paid because he broke a lamp, pushed into it by rowdy guests, he wandered off, finding outdoor shelter in a copse of trees until realizing he was being pursued. Abbot Radulfus grants sanctuary, a forty day reprieve from arrest, trial, and death, provided that Liliwin not leave the abbey.

Almost at once we see the trust between the shrewd abbot and Cadfael, who is sent to look after Daniel’s elderly grandmother, Juliana, suffering heart problems. He’s able to question members of the household. We also learn that the father, Walter, lives, although badly concussed. Cadfael retrieves Liliwin’s juggling balls and something more–news that the maid Rannilt to whom he was attracted in their brief encounter at the wedding party is concerned about him.

Neither Cadfael nor Hugh Beringar, the deputy sheriff, with whom Cadfael shares a rapport, believe Liliwin guilty. No stash of stolen goods has been found. And there is enough greed surrounding the Aurifaber household to make them want to learn more. Then Baldwin Peche, the locksmith living across from the Aurifabers as their tenant, turns up floating in the river–while Liliwin was supposed to be confined to the abbey. In fact, Liliwin had been about the night of the death, escorting Rannilt back to the Aurifaber’s after a visit (and tryst) encouraged by Susanna, Daniel’s sister, who managed the household.

Hugh and Cadfael have forty days to sort all this out. Liliwin’s presence draws out the character of some of the brothers. Prior Robert resents the disruption of the abbey’s life Liliwin represents. Brother Jerome, a strict sort keeps pressing Liliwin to examine his soul as a disciplinarian. And brother Anselm delights in a fellow musician, taking Liliwin under his wing, hoping to recruit him for the abbey choir. He restores the lad’s shatter rebec, a type of stringed instrument.

Finding the place where Peche was murdered, marked by some distinctive plants coinciding in one place becomes significant, as are marks on the murdered man’s back, and remarks Rannilt shared about the household with Liliwin as are the last words which Rannilt overhears Dame Juliana say before her fatal seizure. The slowly intensifying story culminates in a chase where Rannilt is held hostage while Liliwin, now freed of suspicion, attempts a risky rescue.

Peters gets all the elements for a good mystery just right in this story–an accused we are rooting for, an array of possible suspects around the fraught household of Aurifaber, a budding love story that we don’t want to see interrupted by a death sentence, or a death, and behind it all, the worldly wise spirituality of the abbey and the maturing friendship of Cadfael and Hugh.

Review: Lincoln’s Greatest Journey

Lincoln’s Greatest Journey, Noah Andre Trudeau. El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2016.

Summary: 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.

It was Lincoln’s longest stay away from the White House during his presidency.. It didn’t start out that way. Lincoln, accompanied by his wife Mary, had planned a two day visit to Grant’s headquarters, beginning on March 24, 1865. Lee’s forces defending Richmond were slowly weakening as Grant extended his lines. The hope was that the decisive breakthrough ending the war was near. Phil Sheridan was rejoining Grant from the Shenandoah valley. Sherman, further off, was marching from the south.

Lincoln arrived as a war-weary president wanting to encourage Grant to finish the job. He described himself saying, “I am very unwell” and he looked it to observers who knew him. He ended up extending his stay for sixteen days and left a different man both physically and in outlook. Noah Andre Trudeau traces Lincoln’s day by day itinerary against the backdrop of the final days of the Civil War, filling in gaps in the somewhat sketchy outlines of Lincoln’s stay at City Point.

Perhaps the event that changed Lincoln’s plans was Grants repulse of the surprise attack on Fort Stedman on the second day. Grant realized that Lee was fatally weakened and further extended his own lines to the southwest and called on Sheridan to attack on Lee’s right flank. Lincoln attended the command summit a few days later that included Sherman as they readied the attack, encouraging them that “Your success is my success.”

As Grant moved west to be at the crucial point of attack, Lincoln was left with little to do but ride and walk, receive visits and visit field hospitals. Unwittingly, he became a war correspondent, passing news from Grant along to Washington, where his reports were disseminated to the public. In so doing, Lincoln broke new ground in media communications, changing the expectations of a president as public communicator to the nation.

Meanwhile, Trudeau also introduces us to the instabilty and vanity of Mary Lincoln and her dustups with Julia Grant. In the end, she returned early while Lincoln stayed on. The portrait of the First Lady is unflattering, suggesting what Lincoln and others who were around her suffered.

Trudeau covers Lincoln’s visits to Peterburg and Richmond, including the scant provisions for security on the first of these trips. A sniper could easily have ended his presidency right there. Instead, we see a president deeply moved both by war’s devastation and the joyful reception he received from emancipated former slaves.

Lincoln finally departs on April 8. One of the most moving descriptions in the book is Lincoln’s visit to the hospitals for each division, literally speaking to every wounded soldier, some who would die within days while others would carry memories of Lincolns attention and encouragement. Throughout the narrative, we hear of Lincoln’s concern to end the bloodshed. His visit reflected his awareness of the precious sacrifice these and many others had made. This included Confederate soldiers who Lincoln would welcome back to the Union without retribution.

And here we glimpse the transformation that Trudeau so skillfully traces. Lincoln came a weary commander-in-chief. He left anticipating the end of hostilities which came the next day. He returned to Washington committed to the task of reunifying a nation and embarking on a new era in the treatment of former slaves. He was physically restored, filled with a sense of fulfilled purpose, and ready for the new challenge of restoring the Union as a peace president. But first an evening’s entertainment at Ford’s Theater…

Trudeau offers us a well-rounded account of the sixteen days at City Point and how they changed Lincoln. Trudeau also reveals to us the depth of character of Lincoln, battered but resilient, firm in resolve, enthusiastic in support for Grant, and tender with the wounded. We see a man capable of growth as he meets former slaves. And we see a man with a far-reaching, magnanimous vision, one that would die with him.

Review: The Wood Between the Worlds

The Wood Between the Worlds, Brian Zahnd. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, (Forthcoming) 2024.

Summary: An approach to the kaleidoscopic theological meaning of the cross. the center of the biblical story through the lens of poetry.

The title to this work captures what Brian Zahnd is trying to do. The reference to “the wood between the worlds” is to the wood of the cross, which stands between the world that is and the world that is to come. The language is poetic, pointing to the author’s project of exploring the theological meaning of the cross. He resists the attempt to reduce that meaning to technical prose statements, contending for a “kaleidoscope” of the “infinite number of ways of viewing the cross of Christ as the beautiful form that saves the world” (p. 3). And why his focus on the cross? He believes it is the interpretive center of all scripture that offers a lens through which one may interpret the rest of scripture.

What Zahnd offers us is a series of theolgical meditations couched in poetic language. Each chapter begins with a poetic epigraph. One of the key ideas in this work appears in an early chapter, “The Singularity of Good Friday.” Zahnd proposes that on Good Friday “the sin of the world coalesced into a hideous singularity that upon the cross it might be forgiven en masse” (p. 17). The cross is not where God punishes sin or appeases his anger but where God in Christ endured sin and death inflicted by humanity, revealing God’s love in revealing God’s forgiveness. In another chapter, reflecting on Elie Wiesel’s Night, he speaks of a God, who is in the Christ, was on the gallows, the focal point of human suffering.

Another chapter centers on John Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme.” He speaks of all the Trinity as “co-crucified” in Christ rather than the idea of the Son as an object of the Father’s wrath. He contends that the cross reveals the supreme love of God. Zahnd portrays with great eloquence the beauty of God’s love revealed on the cross. I feel however that this is but a partial truth–that Zahnd (as many other contemporary writers) caricatures and then eviscerates the model of penal substitutionary atonement. He accepts the caricature of penal atonement as God punishing the Son and makes the only wrath that of human beings brought to focus on the cross. Gone is the idea of the cross as the place where God’s love and justice meet. I do not believe he does justice to the thoughtful proponents of theories of penal substitution that see this as a work of the Triune God working in harmony involving many of the elements the author dissociates in his portrayal of penal atonement and embraces for his own view. In his view, there is both identification with suffering and forgiveness, but no judgment, only love,

This criticism noted, I would also hasten to say that this work sparkles with insight. He challenges us to consider and live into the grotesque beauty of the outstretched arms on the cross, living lives of cruciform love. He offers a fascinating study of Pilate in literature, in contrast to Christ, and our likeness to Pilate in our embraces of violence. He offers a compelling treatment of the choice between the cross and power in a chapter on Tolkien’s One Ring and the illusions about wielding its power. He renders an interesting introduction to the work of Rene Girard on the scapegoat and, in a subsequent chapter, citing James Cone, on how the lynching tree became the cross for Blacks, and they became our scapegoats.

There is a beautiful reflection on Mary, neglected by Protestants, on the swords that pierced her life, culminating with the cross. He discusses Yeats “centre that does not hold” and how the cross is the place where the center does hold. He considers the slain Lamb on the Throne in the place of the Lion in Revelation and how he conquers, not by violence, but undoes death by dying.

Zahnd’s theopoetics certainly challenges tired theological formulations with theological imagination. The title image of the cross as the wood between the worlds is a compelling one. His focus on the cross as central to biblical interpretation challenges our “flat” approaches to the Bible. I think he gives the lie to caricatures of penal theories but I wonder if a reading of the best and not the caricatures might further enrich the kaleidoscope. What he does do is offer a rich collection of theological meditations, one that may make for nourishing Lenten reading.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: Istanbul

Istanbul, Thomas F. Madden. New York: Viking, 2016.

Summary: The 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.

Istanbul, located on the Bosporus Strait connecting Europe and Asia, and possessing in its Golden Horn a natural harbor, was a strategic city and crossroad of the world for centuries. Thomas F. Madden, a medieval and renaissance history professor captures in 360 pages the history of this great city (in fact, the name, Istanbul means “the city”).

He traces its beginnings in 667 BC when Greek settlers, including it founder, Byzas, from Megara recognized its natural advantages both for trade and defense and settled there, naming it Byzantium after its founder. He traces the transitions from Persian to Greek to Roman rule and the rise of the city under Constantine, where it became New Rome, the capitol of the Roman Empire. He follows the long history as, first barbarians from Europe, and then Muslims from the East erode the boundaries of empire. We see the city embroiled in the schism of the Christian East and West, with the Hagia Sophia the powerful symbol of the Eastern church.

While the city, now Constantinople, faces numerous attacks and is forced into alliances with Venice and Genoa, it does not fall for over a thousand yearsd due to its protected harbor and massive walls and natural barriers in approaching the city. Then finally, in 1453 it falls to the Ottomans becoming the centerpiece of the empire of Suleiman the Great. Madden chronicles the long decline under a succession of sultans until the end of the Ottoman empire following World War I and the rise of Turkish nationalism under Kamal in the 1920’s and the rise of the Erdogan regime and the transformation of Istanbul into a modern city, even as the seat of government moves to Ankara.

The history seemed to me one in which this great city struggled with complacency about its greatness. Despite encroaching powers, the city seemed invulnerable. Madden gives us a story where the internal weaknesses of the city aided its enemies. Yet Madden also portrays the magnificence of the city–its temples, mosques, palaces, hippodrome, and walls and harbor. In a compactly rendered history, he helps us understand why the city was both great and strategic for centuries, and even now, and what contributed to its defeats, and the transitions of power it has undergone.

Review: Christmas, The Season of Life and Light

Christmas, The Season of Life and Light (Fullness of Time series), Emily Hunter McGowin. Downers Grove: IVP Formatio, 2023.

Summary: Spiritual and theological reflections to aid readers in their celebration and spiritual formation around the season of Christmas.

Through all my years as a Christ-follower I have sensed that something very singular occurred with the birth of Jesus, at once Lord of the universe and helpless babe, born in borrowed quarters, hunted by a ruthless king, and with his parents, a fugitive and refugee. At least, I try to ponder these things when not pre-occupied by shopping, decorating, and all the gatherings that surround this season.

One of the ways I carve out space to remember what we are celebrating is reading literature that reminds me of the wonder behind what can become familiar. For this year Emily Hunter McGowin’s little book, Christmas, has offered rich reflections on Christmas and the One we celebrate during this season. The book is one of the Fullness of Time series published by IVP Formatio, edited by New Testament theologian Esau McCaulley. The website for the series states: “The Fullness of Time series invites readers to explore the riches of the church year, guided by some of our finest church theologians. Each volume introduces the traditions, prayers, Scriptures, and rituals of a season of the church—not as an academic exercise, but as an reflections on the theological and spiritual treasures of the church calendar.”

This volume certainly accomplishes that purpose. McGowin begins by discussing the origins of Christmas. While McGowin admits that we do not know the date of Jesus’ birth, she also refutes the myth that Christmas originated as a pagan celebration. She contends that it arises from the church’s belief that the annunciation to Mary and crucifixion of Jesus, both occurred on 14 Nisan, or March 25. December 25 is nine months later! There is evidence for this date going back to the fourth and fifth centuries, unconnected with any pagan celebration. McGowin contends that Christmas, like other dates and seasons in the liturgical year can be times of attending to the Triune God.

Having established the roots of this tradition within Christian liturgical practice, she turns in the remaining four chapters to consider the theological significance of Christmastide. She explores the idea of the Great Exchange, that in the Incarnation, The Son of God partakes in our humanity that we might partake in his divinity, that we might be restored and united with God. Our gift-giving can be a celebration of this great gift.

She explores how the birth of this man born to be king occurs under such poor circumstances. He is God who identifies with the poor. And in this, his birth challenges us to choose, not wealth, but to use our resources in service of the poor.

McGowin considers the mission to redeem creation. This is evident even in his circumcision on the eighth day, faithful in all things to reconcile all through his blood, inaugurating the new creation, one day to be brought to fulfillment. Hence we set up trees and decorate, celebrating both creation and re-creation.

Christmas is a season of light…and life. But many suffer under oppression or bear griefs. The light shines amid darkness. McGowin explores how the Nine Lessons and Carols inb the Anglican tradition, how the remembrance of the holy innocents and the martyrdom of St. Stephen in this season hold “space for grief and lament while looking forward with hope.” And so we light candles and strings of lights. We believe Christ’s coming “brings light and life–even if we can’t see it yet.”

McGowin concludes the book with a reflection on Orthodox nativity icons and the intersection of creche and cross. We’re reminded to see Christmas in context with the whole church year and to set the birth in context with Christ’s Passion. In this conclusion, as throughout the book, ths story of Christmas also serves as a lens through which we see the stories in our news–the conflicts, the tragedies, the existential challenges that resist human solutions.

As you may discern, this isn’t a book of precious thoughts and saccharine sentimentality. These are reflections of theological substance and spiritual depth in language expressive of the lived experience of contemporary Western Christians within a larger global community. And they are reflections that bring deeper significance to our giving of gifts, charitable efforts, and all the decorating and lighting of the season. She shows how these all point to the One who is life and light for the world.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: Reading Karl Barth

Reading Karl Barth: Theology That Cuts Both Ways, Chris Boesel. Eugene. OR: Cascade Books, 2023.

Summary: 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.

Chris Boesel offers in this book a synopsis of the main ideas one might find in reading the massive works of Karl Barth. A critical part of his approach is to contend that Barth’s theology cuts both against theological liberalism and theologically conservative evangelicalism, coming out approximately where progressive (post-) evangelicals might.

He begins with the centrality of Christ to Barth’s theology. Boesel uses the language of Jesus or Jesus Christ, rather than just Barth’s “Christ” to emphasize that God’s one word to us is Jesus the incarnate one who enters our situation as a lowly babe, which he terms “the last, first,” phrasing to which he recurs. This emphasizes the concreteness of this Word. Furthermore, Jesus is God’s “Yes” to humanity. The good news is truly unqualified goodness. Wrath, judgment, and condemnation are what God reserves for the evil that keeps people of God, freeing them to enjoy God’s yes.

For Barth, the Bible is God’s authoritative human witness, rather than God speaking and acting, which he has done in Christ alone. It cuts against liberalism as being the authority for faith and life, yet also against conservatives in being only a relative authority to the absolute Word of God in Jesus. Barth would see Jesus as not falling somewhere on our liberal to conservative spectrum but speaking into both from another place. The logic of Barth’s theology is centered on God’s initiative, God’s grace. This cuts both against human effort and limits on who may be a recipient of grace. Does this make Barth a universalist? Boesel would argue yes and no. It is a no to all human ways of salvation but a yes to God’s freedom. Humans can say no but Barth would reserve the freedom of God’s yes over the human no. Perhaps a hopeful universalist?

Does that mean we have no agency? Barth would hold that those bound in sin have no real freedom. Freedom comes in receiving God’s yes and the life lived in response to that yes, to live with gratitude toward God and love toward neighbor. Barth considers the integral bearing of this theology on our ethics, and particularly a progressive ethic. He grounds this in the “last, first” character of Jesus, the divine Word, supporting economic justice, anti-colonialism, gender equality, and upholding the place of LGBTQ persons. On this last, Boesel notes his difference to Barth. He believes Barth grounds sexuality in natural theology to which Barth has elsewhere said “Nein!” and that a “last, first” ethic would uphold LGBTQ expressions of sexuality. In turn, it seems to me that Boesel ignores both Jesus’ “yes” to marriage between man and woman and the imagery of marriage reflecting Christ and the church.

And this goes to my critique of this work. While it does reflect some dominant ideas in Barth, I fear Boesel reads his progressive post-evangelicalism into Barth. Furthermore, he doesn’t offer the reader help in her own reading of Barth but simply gives us his. I thought we might find in this work suggestions for reading Barth, which I think might be valued by those of us who aspire to read more of Barth.

That said, I think some of the most helpful material explored how Barth’s theology may “cut both ways” with our theological and cultural divides. Do we not all need this Word which lays bare the various ways we are captive to sin in all its expressions–liberal, progressive, and conservative, socialist and nationalist alike? Do we not all need to hear the good news of Christ, of how he is God’s “Yes!” to us, the revelation of God’s extravagant love for us?

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher through Speakeasy.

Review: Look to the Lady

Look to the Lady (Albert Campion #3), Margery Allingham. New York: Open Road Media, 2023 (Originally published in 1931).

Summary: 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.

The male heir of a landed family, the Gyrths, is estranged from his father and wandering London’s streets when Campion finds him. Campion is on an urgent mission. For generations, the Gyrths have guarded a silver chalice. Their grant of the land depends on keeping the chalice secure. Campion has learned that an international group of thieves is seeking the chalice. This group has a peculiar set of rules by which they play. They steal for one another’s private art collections. And if the particular thief tasked with stealing a treasure is caught or dies, they cease their efforts in stealing that object.

Campion and the young man, Val Gyrth return to his father’s estate, close on his 25th birthday, when he is to engage in the ritual of the secret room. Meanwhile, his Aunt Di has been acting as the Keeper of the Chalice and has been showing it to a pack of guests. Then she turns up dead in a nearby forest, looking frightened out of her wits. Curiously, her body is laid out as if for burial, yet the death is ruled as due to a bad heart. Through Campion’s foresight, he protects the chalice that had been left unguarded in Aunt Di’s cottage.

Allingham creates a delightfully twisty plot involving a monster roaming the forest, an old witch and her mentally impaired son, a band of gypsies, a chase with Val’s sister Penny, Val and Campion trying to elude thieves seeking the chalice, a brash and rude woman who owns a nearby stable, and an American professor interested in the lore of the chalice, and his daughter Beth, who becomes Val’s romantic interest.

I won’t trace all those twists, but all these characters, and a few other minor ones as well as the faithful Lugg play a part leading up to a climactic scene at the secret room on Val’s 25th birthday. Campion’s eccentricities cover a shrewd schemer, yet as the climactic scene approaches, we find ourselves wondering if he has been too clever for his own good, and in fact he is saved only by help from an unexpected quarter. All in all, this was a delightful and diverting story, even though it pressed the limits of plausibility at points.

Review: Finding Freedom in Constraint

Finding Freedom in Constraint, Jared Patrick Boyd. Downers Grove: IVP Formatio, 2023.

Summary: 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.

You might do a double-take on the title of this book. Shouldn’t it read “Finding Freedom From Constraint”? There is no mistake here. It gets at the core idea (as many good titles do) that the author is proposing. As the founder of a missional monastic order, the Order of the Common Life, Boyd proposes that constraints, in the form of a rule of life of spiritual practices, is crucial in Christ’s transforming work in our lives. What he observes is that a crucial element to that transformation is communal practice. Our call to love God and one another cannot be practiced alone. We cannot love, and dies to our self-centeredness, without others. Nor can we die to pride and take on humility alone.

A crucial aspect of how constraint works to free is that spiritual constraints, like fasting, the constraint of food, lays bare our compulsions around food and what lies beneath (pain, trauma, grief) that we try to address with food. As we practice the constraint in community, we can offer these, with the support of others, to Christ for healing and transformation as we discover how deeply we our loved amid our disordered desires. The healing, ordering and purifying of desire allows us to burn more brightly, to “become all flame” for Christ.

The remainder of the book discusses six constraints that form a kind of rule of life–three that we choose and three to which we consent. The three we choose are silence and solitude, simplicity, and marriage or celibacy. In silence and solitude, we submit to the present, to simply attend to what comes, sifting and sorting our distractions, offering them to God, waiting for God, and coming to the place where we know and participate and rest in God. Simplicity is the constraint of our attention, through fasting as we pay attention to the meaning of food and eating, through clothing as we pay attention to what we wear and any attachments we have to clothing, and to our possessions and wealth. Marriage and celibacy have in common the giving away of one’s life for the sake of others. Boyd has some of the most original material on the constraint and practice of love in each state that I have seen and writes with special sensitivity to both gay and straight individuals who choose celibacy, guarding this as a choice rather than something imposed.

The three constraints to which we consent are formational healing, faults and affirmations, and discernment in community. Formational healing means allowing God access to all areas of our lives, open to God’s invitations, accepting the constraints of our stories and experiencing healing of disordered attachments that push God out of the center of our lives. “Faults and affirmations” is a communal practice in families and small groups in which we each confess our own faults and affirm others in their gifts and gracious acts. We practice discernment in community when we bring both personal decisions and those of a community to the community for their prayerful input, listening together for God’s invitation.

This is a book written for small groups and leadership communities to work through together. Each chapter concludes with practical ideas for pastors and church leaders, for small groups, and for parents. The author shares a number of ways he has practiced this in his own family with his wife and four children and vulnerably shares his own transformational journey. For those dissatisfied with the use of spiritual practices on an individual basis, Boyd offers a model of communal practice. And for those who wrestle with the tyranny of a life without constraints, Boyd offers a vision in which constraints free rather than bind.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: The Most Holy Place

The Most Holy Place, Jeremy D. Vogan. Staunton, VA: LightPath Publishing, 2023.

Summary: Day-by-day prayers based on a verse by verse reflection on the Book of Hebrews.

I’ve followed Jeremy Vogan’s blog, God, Life, and Beauty for several years and deeply appreciated his poetic reflections on life and faith. So I was intrigued to receive a copy of his new book The Most Holy Place.

It is an ambitious piece of work. it consists of 312 prayers that are reflections on the text of Hebrews. That works out to 52 weeks of six prayers per week. Each prayer takes a verse or part of a verse and does what C.S. Lewis once suggested we do with the Lord’s prayer–to festoon the prayer with our own petitions around the theme of each clause.

Vogan does this, often beginning by addressing the Lord, meditating on his character, contrasting that with our own failings, and expressing trust in the Lord’s sufficiency. Each statement or “verse” in the prayers is set off from the next. Many of the verses either are direct quotes or allusions to other scriptures. This is so fitting of Hebrews itself which either quotes or alludes to so much Old Testament material as well as the gospel of Jesus. It reflected a life deeply soaked in scripture that recognizes so many thematic connections.

Here is one example from Hebrews 11:21 (copied from the author’s page on Goodreads):

Hebrews 11:21  “By faith Jacob, when dying, blessed each of the sons of Joseph, bowing in worship over the head of his staff.”

Faith sees, Lord

Faith knows

But most importantly, faith obeys

Long did Jacob walk with You and see Your wonders, until his heart learned Your ways

He saw the ladder that stretched from earth to Heaven, and behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it

He was afraid, and said, “How awesome is this place!” And he named it Bethel

Laban dealt shrewdly with him, and Jacob learned the value of truth

But he accepted the yoke of servitude, and you made him many through Rachel and Leah

You made him rich and increased his wealth on the earth

Your Spirit kept Laban from doing him harm, and protected him from Esau

You wrestled with him until the breaking of the day, and he prevailed

And You appeared to him again, and said, “Israel shall be your name; be fruitful and multiply”

So at the end of Israel’s life, they brought his grandsons to him, the older one Manasseh on the right and the younger one Ephraim on his left

But Israel obeyed Your Spirit, and crossed his hands to bless the younger as the greater

In faith he obeyed, because it is God alone who raises up and who sets down

For one day You would reject the tent of Joseph, and not choose the tribe of Ephraim

And You would choose the tribe of Judah, Mount Zion, which You love

You would choose David your servant to shepherd the tribe of Jacob with upright heart

For the salvation of all who would trust in You

Amen

I noted several themes running through the prayers. One is the arc between old covenant and new, of anticipation anf fulfillment, one inadequate to transform but pointing to the great high priest and king who would. There is recognition of our insufficiency, the ways we self-deceive, and sin and the utter sufficiency of Christ. And there is the bracing call to faith-obedience, to press on and not drift away.

A scripture index might have been helpful to see the breadth of scripture cited or drawn from. The layout of the prayers on a single page per day in the verse format required a smaller point size for fonts than some readers might find comfortable. There is a Kindle version that circumvents this problem.

These daily prayers are rich and give one so much to think about, so much biblical truth to turn over. The content varies with the verse. This makes for a rich, year-long devotional, simultaneously praying through Hebrews and reflecting on the whole of scripture. If you are looking for a good devotional resource for next year, this is one worth taking a look at!

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the author.

Review: Treasuring the Psalms

Treasuring the Psalms, Ian J. Vaillancourt. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2023.

Summary: An orientation to both lay readers and churches to how to read and appropriate the Psalms, approaching them canonically, Christologically, and personally.

I will say flat out at the beginning of this review that this is one of the most helpful books for reading the Psalms that I have read. Ian Vaillancourt helps us to both understand the forest, making sense of the canonical form in which the Psalms come to us, and to appreciate the trees, the individual Psalms and how they bear on our lives and how they may be used in Christian worship as prayers of the church.

Vaillancourt begins by orienting us to two key words and three helpful insights. The first of the words is YHWH, translated as “The LORD.” Rather than the impersonal title, he commends using the untranslated name. The second word is hesed, used 130 times in the Psalms, often translated as “steadfast love” which emphasizes both the covenant and relational significance of the word. The three insights are that the Psalms are a book of praises–it’s Hebrew title, Tehillim, literally meaning “praises; that in the words of Luther, the Psalms are a “little Bible” encapsulating the whole of the teaching of scripture; and the Psalms, in the words of Calvin, are an “anatomy of the soul,” capturing the range of human emotion and the human condition.

The three sections of the book approach the Psalms canonically, Christologically, and personally. Canonically, the writer assumes there is intent in how the Psalms are organized as a whole. He urges that we pay attention to adjacent Psalms to see how they may relate thematically. Vaillancourt believes it important to read the superscriptions giving us hints about authors, genre, and context. He explores how Psalm 1 and 2 are “gateway” psalms, leading us into the whole book as the two lenses we use in reading the whole–the torah of YHWH and the anointed king of YHWH. He identifies themes for the five books: books one and two on the weeping king David, book three on exile, book four on YHWH’s rule even when the throne of David does not and book five of a new and better David.

The second part of the book considers what it means to read the psalms Christologically–how they point to Christ and gospel application. He teaches us to place the Psalms on a redemptive history timeline. We’re encouraged to look for promises fulfilled in Christ, typologies, direct prophecy (only Psalm 110) and typological prophecy. New Testament citations or allusions are an important clue and using a Bible that cross references to these is helpful. Before applying the Psalms directly and personally, Vaillancourt argues we need to apply them Christologically.

The third part, then considers how we apply the psalms directly in both personal and corporate settings. He believes imprecatory psalms may only be prayed against Satan and his forces, and that we don’t apply prophetic or typological material about Christ to ourselves. He offers detailed guidance on applying lament psalms of desperation, thanksgiving psalms of deliverance, and psalms of praise.

Vaillancourt illustrates his principles by detailed studies of representative psalms. While offering substantive material based on current biblical scholarship, he avoids deep dives into that scholarship. At places, he will offer brief excurses pointing to more extensive appendices that may be downloaded for free at the InterVarsity Press website for the book.

The author states in the conclusion that he has “written with the goal of equipping them [readers] to dig deeply in the bottomless gold (or treasure!) mine of the Psalms on their own. I believe he has succeeded in provided all the needed equipment and instructions for how to use it. Now, it is our turn to dig!

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.