Review: Passions of the Soul

Cover image of "Passions of the Soul" by Rowan Williams.

Passions of the Soul, Rowan Williams. Bloomsbury Continuum (ISBN: 9781399415682) 2024.

Summary: An exploration of Eastern Christian writing on the passions that may be distorted into sin, paired with the Beatitudes.

One of the consequences of interest in the Enneagram is a renewed interest in Evagrius, a fourth century Eastern Christian monastic who wrote about the deadly sins, the passions of the soul that may be twisted in temptation to lead us into sin. In this slim booklet, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Willliams, acquaints us with Evagrius and other Eastern Christians as well.

What identifying the passions does is give us a vocabulary to name the propensities within us that turn our hearts away from the love of God and neighbor. Williams counsel as we discern these things is simple. Face it. Give it to God. And get on with our work. Rather than obsessing about self-denial, the real question is “What has God asked me to just get on with?”

With that, Williams briefly maps out eight passions. Then in the next four chapters, he takes them in pairs setting them over and against a contrasting virtue found in the Beatitudes. He begins with pride and contrasts it with the dependence that knows one’s need of God. Likewise, the boredom of listlessness is offset by the invitation to mourn, to truly feel, and find comfort in God. Anger is offset by the blessing of meekness, the knowledge of who we really are that needs no defense. Gluttony, the craving for more than we need, is countered by hungering and thirsting for justice in the world.

Avarice, a longing for control, comes in the absence of a sense of God’s mercy and is offset in the yielding of control to showing mercy to others, in which we know the mercy of God. The inordinate desire of lust is met in the longing for purity of heart. Envy is the zero sum world in which another’s gain means loss. To embrace peacemaking is to embrace the mutual flourishing of shalom. Finally, despair or dejection centers on one’s self assessment that one has failed and there is no hope, remedied by the promise that faithfulness, even in the worst of persecution and seeming failure eventuates in seeing God.

Williams appends two chapters to these meditations. The first, “To Stand Where Christ Stands” explores what we mean when we talk about the “spiritual.” This chapter, I found was not easy to follow. Williams says it is “about what it is for a whole human life to be lived in the ‘place’ defined by Jesus.” He traces how this has been developed by saints as diverse as Gregory of Nyssa and the Spanish Carmelites, John and Teresa. The last chapter, on “Early Christian Writings” reminds readers of the real dangers early Christians faced, even in gathering for the Eucharist. Prayer, doctrine, and ethics all posed a challenge to the state, and formed the early Christians into both a disciplined and inherently political community.

This slim book challenges our modern ways of being Christian, both in reviving the language of sin, calling us to grow in holiness, and defining our life in the world as the place where spirituality is lived. Rowan Williams introduces us to Eastern Christians with a compelling message for our times.

Review: The Fall of Númenor

Cover image of "The Fall of Númenor" by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Brian Sibley, illustrated by Alan Lee

The Fall of Númenor, J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Brian Sibley, illustrated by Alan Lee. William Morrow (ISBN: 9780063280687) 2022.

Summary: The collected writings of Tolkien on the Second Age of Middle Earth, covering the rise and fall of Númenor.

For those who have read only The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, Númenor is a place no longer existing, where a great line of kings of men ruled, a descendent of which was Isildur, who cut the Great Ring from Sauron’s hand at the end of the Second Age. In this work, Brian Sibley has assembled the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien from The Silmarillion and other sources. He gives a narrative of Numenor and the Second Age.

The First Age ended with the defeat of Morgoth at Thangorodrim by an alliance elves and men. The Fathers of Men were rewarded by the angelic Valar with the raising of an island, Númenor, west of Middle Earth. As part of their grant, they gave to men long lives, for many over 400 years. But this was on the condition that they not attempt to sail west to the Undying Lands.

The work traces the line of kings (and a couple queens) who ruled Númenor, a description of Númenor, and the major events on Númenor and in Middle Earth. In back of all of it is Sauron, diminished but not vanquished in the defeat of Morgoth.

Sauron begins stirring at the time of the first restlessness of the kingly line when Aldarion takes to the sea, building harbors on Middle Earth’s coast, trading. It is he who first realizes the danger of Sauron, who has rebuilt Barad-dur. But all this turns his heart away from Númenor and from Erendis, who he loved. He repeatedly broke promises to her. Though they married, she eventually separated from him rather than share his mistress, the sea.

From then on Númenor’s previously peaceful life is wrapped up in the resistance to Sauron, who has deceived elves, dwarves, and some men as he offers them the illusions of power and prosperity. The tale unfolds as Sauron is taken prisoner to Númenor, gradually seducing many of them. The temptation was not wealth or power, which they possessed. Instead he seduces them to invade the Undying Lands in quest of endless life. Their lives, as they grew increasingly heedless of the Valar had grown shorter and the gift of life became replaced with the curse of dying in their minds.

By breaking the Ban of the Valar, they brought about a great cataclysm. The sea overwhelmed them, along with the island of Númenor. Only Elendil and his sons Anarion and Isildur and their men escape. Of course, Sauron also survives. The exiles found Arnor and Gondor, while Sauron returns to Mordor and seizes Minas Ithil, once an outpost of Gondor. This sets up the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and the overthrow of Sauron in which Elendil and Gil-galad die, while Isildur takes, and sadly, keeps the One Ring, setting up the events of the Third Age.

This is a brief overview of a narrative at least as rich as that of the Third Age. One reflects on the restlessness of Aldarion, who could not be content to wed Erendis, and rule Númenor. One considers the seductions of Sauron, when he still seemed fair, offering power and wealth. Until too late, when the Rings of Power were forged, did they discern the danger behind the fair appearance. Likewise, the Numenoreans could not be content with the gift of long life and the teaching of the Valar. In their power, they wanted more. I think of Augustine’s observation about the restlessness of our hearts, making us vulnerable to seduction.

Alan Lee’s illustrations capture something of the beauty of Númenor. He helps us visualize the other pivotal events of the Second Age. This includes when Galadriel leads the elves through Moria and Gil-galad crosses the Misty mountains to form the Last Alliance. Sibley’s editing achieves more of a continuous narrative than some of those by Christopher Tolkien. One has a sense that this is how J.R.R. Tolkien would have rendered the tale if he had the time.

Finally, thanks for visiting Bob on Books. People aren’t reading blogs like they used to, so I appreciate that you spent time here. Feel to “look around” – see the tabs at the top of the website, and the right hand column. And use the buttons below to share this post. Blessings! [Adapted from Enough Light, a blog I follow.]

Review: Households of Faith

Cover image of "Households of Faith" by Emily Hunter McGowin

Households of Faith, Emily Hunter McGowin. InterVarsity Press (ISBN: 9781514000069) 2025.

Summary: Instead of blueprints of the biblical family, casts a vision of families as apprentices in love together.

Evangelicalism has given families a great amount of attention in recent years. Much of that has come in the forms of models and blueprints for the “ideal” Christian family. Some of this has outlined very specific role expectations for fathers and husbands, wives and mothers and for children. That is not the approach of this book. Emily Hunter McGowin writes:

With this book, I hope to speak a word to Christian families of all kinds that is neither a rigid, unattainable ideal nor an uncritical, feel-good placebo. I am not promoting a particular blueprint of family to which all Christians are expected to conform, nor am I trying to obliterate the notion of family as outmoded and useless. Instead, I am seeking a new paradigm for the family within the framework of the church and the kingdom of God, rooted in the Scriptures and the best of the church’s traditions, that I hope will be empowering and encouraging as we learn to live as households of faith today” (p. 10)

McGowin begins with a survey of the material on family in scripture. What she finds in the Old Testament is not a particular form (and often some pretty flawed examples). Rather the function of families is epitomized in Deuteronomy 6:4-9 as places where one learns to wholeheartedly love God by keeping his commands. Similarly, while the New Testament sometimes offers versions of Roman society’s household codes, the real goal is how to live as disciples of Jesus within society’s expectations.

Then she focuses on Jesus. Rather than specify gender roles, he calls people first to follow him. Their loyalty to him may divide families. While not obliterating family ties, Jesus cares for his mother as he dies by entrusting her to the Beloved Disciple. This is something new. He is not a family member! Furthermore, Jesus’ preoccupation was with the kingdom of God. In Jesus, it has already come but is not yet consummated. Churches, as households of God reflect, albeit imperfectly, God’s gracious rule in their life and to the world.

So, what then of our biological families? They exist within this larger family that includes singles, the divorced and widowed as well as families with parents (grandparents?) and children. For all, this experience of “family” is toward the goal of forming people as disciples, what McGowin calls “an apprenticeship of love.” This is true for parents and children. Rather than just making children “launchable,” McGowin argue for the priority of forming them as people who are learning to love like Jesus.

Beyond this ideal picture, what does this look like in a fallen world? The second part of the book addresses that question. She addresses honestly the dysfunctions that inflict wounds upon families, both internal and societal. Then she speaks of the hope for healing within the gospel as sin and trauma are faced. Some of these problems are huge. McGowin offers realistic examples of living as apprentices of love; what one can do as one also lives in the “not yet” of Jesus kingdom.

Not all will marry. McGowin devotes a whole chapter to singleness and marriage. She notes the balanced way scripture handles this that honors singleness within God’s household. Then she turns to the challenges of childrearing. She reminds us that children belong to God and themselves rather than being ours. We raise them within a larger family of disciples joined together in this apprenticeship of love. We wonder whether we can do this. The call, she says is not to perfection but faithfulness. And in this, God meets us.

Patterns of practice may help us. Not as blueprints but as rhythms around which family life moves. In her final section, McGowin addresses three sets of practices helpful in forming apprentices of love in family. One is sabbath, which includes getting enough sleep and play and wonder. The second is living in the reality of our baptism. We care for our bodies and places. Baptism calls us into storytelling and timekeeping. Baptism initiates us into a narrative of life. Finally, eucharist bids us into reconciled relationships around table fellowship. We live eucharist in shared meals as family and in hospitality with others as well as ongoing reconciliation

What I appreciate about this book is that it situates the family within the bigger Jesus story. It’s the story of God’s kingdom, both already present and not yet. Rather than rules, roles, and blueprints, McGowin offers an expansive vision. And yet the core idea is simple to express (if not always to practice). Families together (and the whole household of God) are apprentices of love. Jesus wants to form us as people of steadfast, sacrificial, and holy love and there is no better place to learn it than in the school of family life. McGowin’s honesty and her willingness to share both struggles and practices makes this a rich and accessible resource.

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

Finally, thanks for visiting Bob on Books. People aren’t reading blogs like they used to, so I appreciate that you spent time here. Feel to “look around” – see the tabs at the top of the website, and the right hand column. And use the buttons below to share this post. Blessings! [Adapted from Enough Light, a blog I follow.]

Review: Emily Dickinson and the Art of Belief

Cover image of "Emily Dickinson and the Art of Belief" by Roger Lundin

Emily Dickinson and the Art of Belief, Revised Edition (Library of Religious Biography), Roger Lundin. Wm B. Eerdmans (ISBN: 9780802821270) 2004 (My review is based on the first edition, published in 1998).

Summary: A biography of Dickinson focused on her life and faith drawing upon poetry and letters.

I would describe Emily Dickinson as a “beloved enigma.” Her poetry is among the most loved of American poetry, celebrated for her unusual phrasing and keen insight. That is all the more the case considering that she lived the last three decades of her life as a virtual recluse and with only a few exceptions, refused publication of her work during her lifetime.

Roger Lundin’s biography explores that reclusive behavior without explaining it, apart from the poet’s choice. What is more significant, is that he explores her religious faith. Her life was lived in the intersection of a Calvinist-Puritan New England upbringing and the rise of enlightenment romanticism. Lundin writes of her father’s reading of serious books on sabbaths and Emily’s sense of the distance of God the Father while identifying more closely with Christ. She never entered into church membership, eventually ceasing to attend her parent’s church. While others went down the path of Unitarianism, she remained a Trinitarian, and had some sense of Christ giving away his life for us. And she grieved the loss of those close to her in her last years but clearly believed in an afterlife. Challenged by skepticism, she never gave way to it.

The closest Lundin gets to Dickinson’s inner turn is to explore the idea of her inner Preceptor. For Dickinson, her inner life, her perception of the world was of far greater interest than externals. This “romantic isolation of the self” was so powerful that it led to avoiding social contact outside her home for the last thirty years, apart from treatments for her eyes in Boston. It explains her decision to not publish, forgoing all the literary contacts this would necessitate.

This, however did not mean complete isolation. She and her sister Lavinia were close and, together they cared for her parents, in whose home Emily lived. She had a more difficult relationship with Sue, her brother Austin’s wife. Eventually, the social center of the Dickinson family shifted to their house, and Sue and Emily became more distant. Her rare visitors talked to her from a hallway near her room, separated by a partially open door. She was steeped in books, and missed her Shakespeare when forbidden to read due to an eye condition. And she carried on a significant correspondence, particularly with Thomas Wentworth Higginson, who was her frankest critic and eventually, a friend. He shared in editing the earliest posthumous edition of her work.

Lundin traces the chronology of her work, including her explosion of writing between 1858 and 1865. Then her production tailed off, particularly as affliction struck down members of her family and close friends, and finally Emily herself. She died at 58 of Bright’s disease, a kidney disease, passing into her “Rendezvous of Light.’

A feature of this work is that Lundin quotes frequently from her poems. By doing so, her underscores her perceptions of her inner world and the world beyond. And other quotes articulate her own surviving faith. He also uses her correspondence as well as the spiritual and intellectual backdrop of her life in Amherst to sketch her life and the influences that formed her.

The revised edition of this book (which I did not have access to) includes a standard bibliography, expanded notes, and more discussion of her poetry, something I would have liked to see in the first edition. The revision “has also keyed all poem citations to the recently updated standard edition of Dickinson’s poetry.” These enhance what was already an important biography of this quintessentially American poet.

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Finally, thanks for visiting Bob on Books. People aren’t reading blogs like they used to, so I appreciate that you spent time here. Feel to “look around” – see the tabs at the top of the website, and the right hand column. And use the buttons below to share this post. Blessings! [Adapted from Enough Light, a blog I follow.]

Review: The Little Book of Data

Cover image of "The Little Book of Data" by Justin Evans

The Little Book of Data, Justin Evans. HarperCollins Leadership (ISBN: 9781400248353) 2025.

Summary: Stories of how people have used data to solve big problems and how that might apply in one’s own work.

Some of us are in data denial. We don’t think we need to understand it. Or its too complicated. Then, it’s just intimidating. And for some, it’s just downright evil. Justin Evans passionately believes that when we are in data denial, we forfeit a key resource for advancing our careers and our organizations. Data can help us solve big problems. Fundamentally, it’s not about math but about ideas. As an undergrad English major, Evans says anyone can understand this stuff if we don’t “give power to the twerps.” And while there are real concerns with surveillance capitalism, it is a Promethean fire. We wield both great power that charges us with responsibility.

Evans learned about the power of data to solve problems in a career that included work with Nielsen, Comcast, Samsung, and a start-up along the way. He wrote The Little Book of Data to tell stories of how data has solved a variety of big problems. And he helps us consider the opportunities this presents each of us in our chosen work.

But first he begins with a personal account of how we “shed” vast amounts of data every day. Our email accounts, our rideshare apps, GPS, streaming services, medical information systems…and so much more. A whole infrastructure has been created to identify, store, and utilize that information. And chances are, in whatever line of work you are in, data is there to help with the problems you are trying to solve.

For example, we are introduced to:

  • Herman Hollerith, who worked with the Census Bureau preparing for the 1890 census. There were an unprecedented number of variables on which they were to collect information. All of it would need to be cross-matchable. Hollerith created the punch card to collect this information and a tabulating machine to analyze different combinations of data. And so was born the enterprise we now know as IBM.
  • More contemporarily, we meet Priya, who developed analytics to study websites used to traffic women, enabling the NGO she worked for to build cases to rescue underage women.
  • Barry Glick started working for a company that had a division distributing maps to gas stations. It was called Mapquest. He figured out how to connect the vector data of driving directions to raster data used to make visual maps. And then they put it online…
  • Sharon Greene was an epidemiologist in New York City when COVID broke loose. Her team figured out a way to use daily testing data to identify hot spots, surge resources to them, resulting in dropping death rates in each of these spots.
  • Adam Greene developed textual analysis to identify loneliness among senior adults through phone conversation, helping seniors get more socially connected.

The stories help illustrate different aspects of data science from the development of artificial intelligence to how we use data to count, track, spot anomalies like impending earthquakes, match genetic attributes, certify grades of meat and measure performance. We learn about the use of data to crystallize complex information by meeting railroad nerd Henry Varnum Poor. Poor went from editing a railroad journal to create an objective resource to help those investing in railroads. Poor’s Manual of Railroads provided information on road miles, rolling stock, passenger numbers, freight tonnage…and the names of each director. Eventually this became Standard & Poor, and crystallized all this data into a rating, AAA to D (bankrupt).

Along the way, Evans tells stories from his own career journey. Each of the chapters concludes with a ‘key points” summary, thought starters, and “Where do we go next?”. Evans offers both inspiring stories combined with a “see, you can understand this” approach.

Most of the book was pretty positive about the potential of the world of big data. But Evans includes a chapter on data bullies along the way, those who use their expertise to conceal information. He offers a humorous account of how he asked such people to break down their claims and explain everything he didn’t understand.

At the end of the book, he returns to the power of large tech firms and the issue of secrecy, illustrating it with how the AI industry used large amounts of copyrighted material secretly to train its Large Language Models. He argues that our data might be tagged in such a way to establish provenance, allowing its licensed or unlicensed use to be tracked. He also argues for data advocates for industries where the use of data to make decisions having implications for the rest of us would be less opaque–health insurance companies for example.

On the whole, Evans approach is to illustrate different ways data has been used to solve problems that matter. He helps readers think about the problems they are trying to solve in this light. Therefore, data becomes a useful tool instead of an amorphous, intimidating reality. For me, one of the biggest takeaways was that data ultimately isn’t about crunching numbers but about asking good questions. Then we look for the data sets that will help us answer those questions. I found this an encouraging and empowering approach. Evans acknowledges the realities of our world, including the AI explosion. And helps us see the opportunity all this data represents.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book for review from the publisher through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers Program.

Finally, thanks for visiting Bob on Books. People aren’t reading blogs like they used to, so I appreciate that you spent time here. Feel to “look around” – see the tabs at the top of the website, and the right hand column. And use the buttons below to share this post. Blessings! [Adapted from Enough Light, a blog I follow.]

The Weekly Wrap: June 8-14

woman in white crew neck t shirt in a bookstore wrapping books
Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

The Weekly Wrap: June 8-14

Patience and Reading

One of the things that strikes me about our public discourse is how poorly formed are many of the things people say. People often speak in slogans or memes rather than making real arguments I wonder if we are becoming an increasingly impatient people. Real discussion and deliberation about the common good takes time. That is because good solutions are rarely simple. It takes a lot of work and thought and back and forth to put good ones together.

The act of reading is an act of patience. For example, I am reading William Kent Krueger’s Trickster’s Point, one of his Cork O’Connor novels. There are times I’m tempted to jump ahead to find out the resolution, usually exposing a killer. But one of the rewards of patience is to savor Krueger’s writing, how he develops a worldview at the intersection of indigenous and Catholic heritage, h9ow he develops character and unfolds plot.

Long books particularly require patience. They also develop the capacity to hold the thread of a narrative or an argument. Recently, I finished Richard Bauckham’s Jesus and the Eyewitnesses. It is a nearly 700 page defense of the idea that our canonical gospels are either based on or are eyewitness accounts. The writer marshals ancient sources and the use of names, and other internal evidence to make an impressive case and respond to possible critiques. I think it will be a landmark book and it certainly made a compelling case

The internet and phone scrolling has arguably diminished our capacities for patience and attention. It makes good sense, it seems to me, to exclude phones during school days. (I also wonder whether excluding the use of AI when we want students to think, create, and critique might be good.) Some teachers are incorporating time for long form reading into classes. I wonder if something like this might be a good idea for our public officials as well. Of course it means a public more interested in solutions than slogans. One can hope…

Five Articles Worth Reading

Oprah Winfrey likes novelist Wally Lamb, having recently chosen his latest book for her book club, the third time she has selected one of his books. In “Wally Lamb’s Guilty Pleasure Is a History of Mad Magazine,” the latest “By the Book” interview in The New York Times, we learn he follow’s Oprah’s picks as well.

There is a small., but growing abstinence movement among singles. Melissa Febos chronicles her abstinence journey in her new book, The Dry Season. Actually, she notes her surprise at how enjoyable abstinence was for her. She recommends six other helpful books in “What to Read When You’re Ready to Say No.”

On the other hand, we are facing declining birthrates around the world. Why people aren’t having children is being widely discussed. In a newsletter from Comment, a Canadian magazine, I saw this article, “Why Have Children,” a thoughtful conversation on this topic with Anastasia berg, Brian Dijkema, and Rachel Wiseman.

At my house, we had children’s editions of some classic works including those of Jules Verne, which I ate up as a child. But “9 Facts You Probably Didn’t Know About Jules Verne’s ‘Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas’ ” was all new to me!

Finally, Elena Gosalvez Blanco recounts what it was like to work for “The Talented Ms. Highsmith.” She worked for Patricia Highsmith, the writer of psychological thrillers during the final months of her life. Her interview for the job consisted of one question: “Do you like Hemingway?” Ms. Blanco answered “no” and discovered Highsmith hated Hemingway. She got the job!

Quote of the Week

Dorothy L. Sayers, the playwright, novelist, and Christian essayist was born June 13, 1893. This quote seems even more true in our “post-truth” era than it was in her day:

“The great advantage about telling the truth is that nobody ever believes it.”

Miscellaneous Musings

I love hearing from people who read my blogs or follow me on social media. A delightful 89 year old gentleman contacted me today with a question about a recent review. If nothing else, it’s good to know that people do read what I write.

This gentleman also admitted that he hasn’t read many of the books I reviewed–the review told him enough. I joked that “I read so you don’t have to!” Actually, reviewers often serve that function. There are books I am glad to know about that I won’t have time to read, or sufficient interest. So don’t feel guilty about not reading everything I review!

I received a book this week titled “Mid-Faith Crisis,” by Catherine McNeil and Jason Hague. I learned recently that many who go through such crises often are not young, as it is thought, but in their fifties. My own conclusion is that we are meant to grow in our faith journey, and what we learned and believed in our twenties may not always work so well later in life. I’m curious to see what these writers say.

Next Week’s Reviews

Monday: Justin Evans, The Little Book of Data

Tuesday: Roger Lundin, Emily Dickinson and the Art of Belief

Wednesday: Emily Hunter McGowin, Households of Faith

Thursday: J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fall of Numenor

Friday: Rowan Williams, Passions of the Soul

So, that’s The Weekly Wrap for June 8-14!

Find past editions of The Weekly Wrap under The Weekly Wrap heading on this page

Review: Skills for Safeguarding

Cover image for "Skills for Safeguarding" by Dr. Lisa Compton and Taylor Patterson.

Skills for Safeguarding, Dr. Lisa Compton and Taylor Patterson. IVP Academic (ISBN: 9781514010730) 2024.

Summary: A guide for religious organizations to prevent abuse, act appropriately when it occurs, and care for survivors.

It seems hardly a month goes by without a new report of sexual abuse in the church. The news in my community has reported on two such cases in recent months. In both cases, the churches were forthcoming and worked with local law enforcement in reporting the abuse when it came to light. But recent years have seen high profile cases in the Roman Catholic Church, in numerous evangelical churches, Christian camps, Christian ministry organizations, and elder care facilities.

Skills for Safeguarding offers a much-needed guide to understanding, preventing, and addressing abuse. Furthermore, it addresses the practices that promote the best chance for healing among survivors. The authors are both mental health professionals with extensive practice in dealing with abuse and trauma. They work with a team of contributors with specific expertise to address the various topics in this book.

They begin by defining th9e work of safeguarders. Specifically, five words encompass their practice: look, listen, equip, and speak out. They highlight Nathan in scripture as a safeguarder who exposed and rebuked David’s abusive actions toward Uriah and Bathsheba. They discuss the opposite of safeguarding, which is different forms of complicity. and they outline the different forms of abuse and of what they consist: emotional and verbal, physical, spiritual, and sexual. And they devote a full chapter to the undergirding abuse of power and how this damages a person’s relationship with God.

The second section focuses on abuse systems, their dynamics and origins. First, a chapter focuses on the systemic clergy-child abuse within the Catholic Church and the subsequent widespread cover-up. Then, authors consider abuse from a systems perspective, particularly the closed systems of families and churches. From systems, Dr. David Cook turns to perpetrator dynamics. He offers a chilling description of how perpetrators groom themselves and their environment as well as their victims. We learn how they choose victims and about reporting, and vigilance with known perpetrators, who will re-offend at least half the time. Finally, they discuss the role of sexual scripts, particularly purity culture scripts, have contributed to abuse.

The third section focuses on the impacts of abuse. One chapter unfolds the growing body of research on trauma. A second discusses the vulnerability of abuse survivors to revictimization. Finally, a third chapter focuses on child and adolescent survivors. They consider the impact of trauma on the brain, on the ability to form healthy attachments, and on emotional regulation. They address healing in each of these areas.

Section four focuses on two vulnerable populations. The first is children and how victims are selected and groomed (I found the material on grooming the most chilling, but also some of the most necessary). Children are most vulnerable who are unsupervised, lack financial resources, have low self-esteem or identity issues, and have disabilities. The other population is older adults and those with disabilities. As an older, but healthy adult, I read this with interest. I’ve recognized efforts to scam me financially. They discuss the particular vulnerabilities of those facing cognitive and physical disabilities to both emotional and physical abuse.

The fifth section focuses on skill development for safeguarders. Successive chapters focus on developing empathy, listening and responding, and emotional regulation and ways to address emotional arousal in safeguarding, both those of survivors and one’s own. A final chapter helps safeguarders navigate complexities of informed consent, various relationships, professional boundaries, confidentiality, and knowing when to refer.

The last section addresses care for the safeguarder. First, they address hazards of safeguarding, including empathy, how continued exposure to the trauma of others may color one’s own outlook or awaken one’s own trauma experiences. Then they consider strategies to strengthen safeguarders through stewarding mind, body, time, and relationships. The final chapter on education, collaboration and resources considers the broader safeguarding culture in churches and organizations. This includes development of a culture of transparency, and education of both ministry leaders and congregations.

Each chapter provides questions for individual and group reflection and further resources. At minimum, the leadership of any church or ministry organization would do well to read, discuss, and consider their own safeguarding practices. As “closed” systems, they have unique vulnerabilities to perpetrators. Awareness will not eliminate all abuse but will alert people to grooming behaviors, promote safe practices, and lead to greater transparency, including swift and proper reporting, and survivor care. I can also see the book being used by professionals offering safeguarding training in churches and religious organizations.

In sum, Jesus cares for the vulnerable, especially children. Abuse not only violates bodies but attacks the spirit, engendering guilt, shame, and doubt before God or worse. Those who embrace the skills and calling of safeguarding stand with Jesus, extending his care to the vulnerable, protecting them from “wolves.” This book shows us how we may begin.

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

Finally, thanks for visiting Bob on Books. People aren’t reading blogs like they used to, so I appreciate that you spent time here. Feel to “look around” – see the tabs at the top of the website, and the right hand column. And use the buttons below to share this post. Blessings! [Adapted from Enough Light, a blog I follow.]

Review: Love’s Immensity

Cover image of "Love's Immensity" by Scott Cairns

Love’s Immensity, Scott Cairns. Paraclete Press (ISBN: 9781640605886) 2020 (first published in 2007).

Summary: Reflections and prayers of mystics from St. Paul to Julian of Norwich translated and rendered in verse.

At a student leadership conference many years ago, one of our speakers made the distinction between knowing about God and knowing God. Yet I found as I went on in the Christian life that we were not always at ease with the latter. There was a great fear of subjectivity and “mysticism” was looked at askance. We wanted to “rightly handle” scripture, be “sound” in doctrine.

Yet, rather than choose one pole of this tension, I discovered that living in it was the better place to be. Amid reading great theology, I would find myself caught up in wonder, awe, and love. In both worship and witness, I found myself suddenly in the grip of fresh insight into the truth, the rightness of Christian belief. It was a bringing together of mind and heart in a knowing, passionate, and at times, beyond knowing experience of the love and greatness of God.

It was this that poet Scott Cairns discovered as he meditated upon, translated, and set in verse the writings and prayers of mystics from St. Paul to Julian of Norwich. In particular, he writes of noetic prayer. He found the idea of nous untranslatable. The best he could come up with is “the intellective aptitude of the heart.” However, Cairns does not spend much time on this, preferring to show through our encounter with these mystics, inviting us to join them. In Prologue, by the anonymous author of The Cloud of Unknowing, he asks us “to read slowly and thoroughly, tasting each word’s trouble.” And such an approach is wise in reading this profound collection.

Firstly, in so many of the works, the paradox of knowing the unknown is evident. An example is Nicholas of Cusa’s Within the Cloud. He writes:

"...For there, beyond all
reason, and above every bold ascent
--even there, where I glimpse that
with every intellect judges to be
most distant from truth, there
You bide, my God, who remain
our absolute necessity."

To encounter God in this way, according to Meister Eckhart in The Prayer of a Heart Detached is to be both detached and one with God. One becomes detached from asking and wanting. Rather prayer is simply dwelling in the peace and uniformity with God.

Yet the encounter with God is not passionless, devoid of feeling. In The Depth of His Touch, Saint Claire of Assisi speaks of loving and touching God. God is one who excels in power, generosity, beauty, tender love, and gracious courtesy. It is love that catches her in an embrace, lays precious stones upon her breast and pearls upon her ears. The language is romantic, nearly erotic, and yet she speaks of chastity, purity, virginity. Ultimately, one senses that such a holy love is beyond eros.

Similarly, Saint John of the Cross’s famous Dark Night reads as if it were a lover’s tryst. First, he steals away unobserved by a household at rest. Then, unseeing in the darkness, “heartlight” guides him. The Beloved’s embrace transforms him. Finally, he swoon’s upon the Beloved’s breast, releasing all his burdens.” We find here an intimacy greater than any sexual union.

Origen, in All in All, indeed, speaks of consummation. In this case, it is the promised restoration of all things, in which we are caught up in the “All in All.” Finally, Saint Basil the Great, in Illumination reminds us that this is only possible through the Spirit. Only by the Spirit is the invisible manifest, the inexpressible beauty glimpsed.

But Cairns offers us so much more. In all, he includes thirty-seven saints. The translations rendered in verse enable us to meditate phrase by phrase. This is love poetry on a whole different level. I will treasure it!

____________________

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

Finally, thanks for visiting Bob on Books. People aren’t reading blogs like they used to, so I appreciate that you spent time here. Feel to “look around” – see the tabs at the top of the website, and the right hand column. And use the buttons below to share this post. Blessings! [Adapted from Enough Light, a blog I follow.]

Review: The Saint-Fiacre Affair

Cover image of "The Saint-Fiacre Affair" by Georges Simenon

The Saint-Fiacre Affair (Inspector Maigret, 14) Georges Simenon (translated by Shaun Whiteside). Penguin (9780141394756) 2015 (first published in 1932). [Publication link is to American edition currently in print]

Summary: Maigret receives an anonymous note of a crime to take place in his home town, and though present, cannot prevent it.

“A crime will be committed at the church of Saint-Fiacre during the first mass of the Day of the Dead.”

Maigret received this anonymous message in Paris. Why does he go to Saint-Fiacre when no one else is available? Saint-Fiacre is his childhood home. Like many of us who visit childhood homes, the visit evokes memories, but also the sad awareness that so much has changed, and not for the better.

Maigret is present for Mass, with a small crowd, among whom is the Countess of Saint-Fiacre. When she opens her missal, it is obvious that something has disturbed her. She collapses…and is dead of a heart attack. No one had been near. Was this “of natural causes” since she had been in frail health? Or was this the crime?

After recovering the missal, which a young altar boy had secreted away, Simenon discovers what had disturbed the countess. There was a clipping announcing the death of Maurice de Saint-Fiacre. We soon learn this report is false when Maurice arrives to borrow money from his mother to keep his creditors at bay.

As Maigret investigates, along with the local police, he discovers the estate of Saint-Fiacre is in sad shape. At one time, his father had been estate manager. Now, the estate has been nearly all sold off. Jean Métayer was not only the Countesses secretary but her lover. Gautier, the current manager has been putting in his own money to keep things afloat. His son, Emile, who works at the local bank confirms the sad state of the accounts, nearly exhausted and insufficient to meet bills that are due. For various reasons, both the doctor and parish priest are suspects, as is Maurice himself.

The denouement is a classic dinner party with all the suspects present. Simenon is there as well, but he hasn’t called this gathering. And it is not he who solves the crime after a dramatic climax.

Maigret seems overcome with a curious passivity that seems to be a commentary on his disillusionment with what has become of his childhood home, a sad and tawdry place. Yet it is the manager’s son who is police commissioner and this wealthy house that is now destitute.

I still have one question. Why the anonymous note to Maigret in Paris? Was it hubris on the part of the murderer, or simply a device to get him to Saint-Fiacre? This did not strike me as one of Simenon’s best, perhaps because of the lassitude (possibly attributable to an incipient cold) that characterizes Maigret throughout. But perhaps everyone is entitled to their “off” day.

Thanks for visiting Bob on Books. People aren’t reading blogs like they used to, so I appreciate that you spent time here. Feel to “look around” – see the tabs at the top of the website, and the right hand column. See buttons below to share this post. And thanks again! [Adapted from Enough Light, a blog I follow.]

Review: Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, 2nd Edition

Cover image of "Jesus and the Eyewitnesses" by Richard Bauckham

Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, 2nd Edition, Richard Bauckham, foreword by Simon Gathercole. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. (ISBN: 9780802874313) 2017.

Summary: Argues from both early church fathers and internal evidence that the gospels are based on eyewitness testimony.

Gospel scholarship over the past hundred years has embraced the idea that the gospels reflect anonymous community traditions that have passed through a number of hands, or storytellers. It is assumed that the “historical Jesus” behind these gospels is only dimly and uncertainly accessible. In this work, Richard Bauckham, in Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, asserts that the gospels are based on eyewitness testimony concerning the life and teaching of Jesus. His contention is that this testimony is “both a reputable historiographic category for reading the gospels as history and also a theological model for understanding the gospels as the entirely appropriate means of access to the historical reality of Jesus” (p. 5). He cites Samuel Byrskog’s scholarship emphasizing the importance of eyewitness testimony in ancient historiography.

He then begins his case for the gospels as eyewitness testimony with the early church father, Papias. Papias, writing around 130 CE, argued for the “living and surviving voice” rather than information from books. He preferred elders who could testify to what any of the Lord’s disciples had said. Specifically, he gave credence to those who heard Peter, John, Matthew or John the Elder. Rather than collective traditions, he prized above all testimony–the testimony on which our gospels are based.

In succeeding chapters, Bauckham looks at the gospels. He begins with the named persons, arguing their significance as possible sources of the accounts in which they are named. To underscore the credibility of the gospels, he creates a table of names in the gospels. Then he compares it to the frequency of common names of the time, finding significant overlap. He considers the twelve named disciples, the variants on their names, and their significance as eyewitnesses.

Then Bauckham turns to Mark. He notes the use of inclusio in naming Peter at both the beginning and end of the gospel and more than others (he also notes similar forms of inclusio in Luke and John to establish eyewitness testimony). In addition, there is an unusual alternating from third to first person in Mark that Bauckham suggests indicative of Peter’s speech. At this point, Bauckham brings in Papias, who mentions Mark as the translator of Peter. He affirms Matthew as writing an Aramaic version of this gospel (from which our Greek version arises).

Bauckham then offers an extended discussion of oral tradition, memorization, arguing that individuals kept traditions rather than communities. This includes an interesting chapter on eyewitness memory in modern psychology, with the conclusion that the gospels represent genuine memories.

However, the most interesting, and perhaps controversial material in the book, concerns his chapters on the Gospel of John. He argues that John, unlike the other gospels is not based on eyewitness testimony but rather is eyewitness testimony. Specifically, it is the testimony of the Beloved Disciple. However, he would identify “John” not as the son of Zebedee but as “John the Elder,” based on Papias. He argues that this John was not one of the twelve. However, he was a “beloved” friend, part of a larger group of disciples who had been with Jesus throughout his ministry. Unfortunately, discussion over who John is can overshadow Bauckham’s more important point, that this gospel is eyewitness testimony.

The book concludes with Bauckham recapitulating his argument for the gospels as testimony. While such testimony must be weighed, he argues for a presumption of trust rather than suspicion. Bauckham adds several chapters to the second edition at this point. These address criticisms of the earlier edition, particularly concerning eyewitnesses in Mark and the identity of John. Provocatively, he concludes that if his case for the gospels as testimony holds up, this means the end of form criticism.

It is striking to me to encounter scholarly confirmation of conclusions that arose inductively from student Bible studies in my college days. While we didn’t have the tables or patristic evidence marshalled by Bauckham, we took seriously Luke’s testimony of how he wrote his work. We saw Mark’s focus on Peter. We accepted John’s claim to be offering eyewitness testimony and noted the details unique to his account that suggested an eyewitness presence. It has always been baffling to me to see the skepticism of many scholars toward these accounts. Bauckham makes a strong case that my early reading of the gospels was not off the mark. More than that, it suggests we can approach these accounts with a high degree of confidence that they render accounts of Jesus that may be trusted.

I’m sure that some will continue to quarrel over the question of Johannine authorship. While I incline to the traditional view of John the Apostle, Bauckham’s contention doesn’t trouble me. Either are equally eyewitnesses. We don’t know the authorship of Hebrews and affirm it as scripture. I do suspect that form critics and the questers for the historical Jesus have a problem with Bauckham. I would suggest the real problem is the contention that the gospels are not what they present themselves to be but rather are anonymous community traditions. Wouldn’t it be surprising if what most Christians through history believed the gospels to be and the best gospel scholarship were agreed? Bauckham gives us hope that might be possible.