Review: The Kingdom of Children

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The Kingdom of Children, R. L. Stollar, Foreword by Cindy Wang Brandt. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2023.

Summary: A liberation theology of the child that centers children in our theology and ecclesial life, arguing for their full humanity and their place as participants in the life of the whole church.

What place do children have in your church? Do you send them off to children’s church while adults do real church? Have we ever thought that we might learn from children? How much do children participate in the leadership of the church? Do we seek their input about curriculum and programs? How do we handle passages in scripture where children are featured, particularly where children in some way bring the word of God or act for God (think of Miriam and Samuel as children for example)?

R.L. Stollar raised all these questions for me in The Kingdom of Children. The book is subtitled “A Liberation Theology,” which for some may be off-putting. By this, Stollar centers the child in his theology, particularly the marginalized, suffering child. Like other liberation theologies, Stollar considers them as the image of God, even as marginalized, sometimes because of abuse, and often treated as less than full participants in the life of the Christian community. One of the most fascinating things is his consideration of God as child in the incarnation–the baby Jesus who does cry, pee and poop, who goes through the terrible twos “learning obedience,” who asserts his place to sit with religious teachers at twelve.

Stollar begins by looking at the situation of children both around the world and in the U.S., and how often they are vulnerable to abuse, even more if they are part of another marginalized group, and how they are often stripped of agency. This makes the case that child do need a liberation theology for them. Then he lists thirteen questions he thinks we must ask in developing a child liberation theology.

Several chapters are devoted to how we love children as we read the Bible, beginning with seven elements that need to be present including focusing on how children’s roles are featured, how we exclude children from stories, how stories where children are absent may imply a lot about children, and especially, that we need to read the Bible with children. He discusses how we read both the bad and good stories, the binding of Isaac as an example on one hand, and the stories of Miriam and Samuel on the other..

He turns from hermeneutics to theology, considering first the other gods as children and then Jesus as child. He considers children as God-to-us and particularly how we should not see them, including as vipers(!), subordinates, tools, blessings to collect (think “quiver full”), property, consumers, or as addenda to our lives. This is followed by chapters on children as prophets, priest, and theologians, particularly as theologians of play. One of the important insights here is to recognize that children, while not cognitively mature are capable of asking profound spiritual questions, having a spiritual inner life, and gaining insights that the whole community may benefit from.

To welcome children in this way is not to adultify them but to recognize their gifts to us as children. He argues that we need to see them as children, and understanding child development, at least in a basic way, is important for those who work with children. Stollar also presses us to think about how wide our welcome is: wide enough for the racially diverse? for those with disabilities? the neurodiverse? He contends for robust child protection systems to be in place for all children, but especially these groups, who are more subject to abuse.

Stollar concludes with inviting us to think about what it means for the kingdom to belong to children. One of the delightful features of this book is how Stollar practices this idea throughout, writing the book in accessible and not academic language and by providing an “including children” section in each chapter. I’m intrigued that Stollar even proposes including children in aspects of church leadership, especially in decisions that involve them.

I see the number of youth walking away from the churches they were raised in and can’t help wondering if the subtle ways we treat them as marginal, “junior” members that discounts both their human dignity and the work of God in their lives, contributes to this exodus. This book made me think about my own childhood. I actually think I was fortunate to have teachers and mentors recognized the work of God in me, who empowered me and others of us. It’s also making me think about the children in my own congregation and how we can welcome and learn from and empower them. I think Jesus would smile on this.

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

Review: Season of Beauty

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Season of Beauty, compiled by Editors at Paraclete Press. Brewster, MA: Paraclete, 2024.

Summary: A collection of scriptures and reflections of great Christian writers along with reproductions of great works of art for Lent, Holy Week, and Eastertide.

While we often think of Lent as the season of fasting, of abstaining culminating in Holy Week and the horror of the cross, there is also beauty in contemplating the way of the Savior, the life to which we are called as followers, and the glory of the resurrection.

Paraclete Press has just published a wonderful collection of readings from scripture, from saints of old and contemporary writers and poets accompanied by an extraordinary number of art reproductions printed on quality paper and a sewn in ribbon bookmark. The readings span Lent, Holy Week, and Eastertide with over half the book devoted to the latter two.

There are a number of Gerard Manley Hopkins (my favorite poet) and Christina Rosetti poems. reflections from The Cloud of Unknowing, Julian of Norwich, Emilie Griffin’s “He Kept On Walking,” Kathleen Norris’s “Hints of Resurrection Abound” and a long version of “Saint Patrick’s Breastplate.”

An example of text and art (publisher’s website)

All of this is accompanied by gorgeous reproductions of art. I appreciated the inclusion of Briton Riviere’s The Temptation in the Wilderness. an El Greco of Mary Magdalene, Ilya Repin’s Last Supper, Thomas Cole’s The Pilgrim of the Cross at the End of His Journey., and Jan Cossiers, Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene.

I could go on. But the beauty of the design of this book, tastefully laid out with texts and images, is to invite our quiet contemplation, our personal pilgrimage through Lent, Holy Week, and Eastertide (including Hopkins “May Magnificat”).

This indeed is a “treasury” I hope to return to year after year, so rich are the works within.

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

Review: Loving Disagreement

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Loving Disagreement, Kathy Khang & Matt Mikliatos. Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2023.

Summary: Moving beyond impasses or civil discourse to loving one another in Christian community while honestly engaging our conflicts through the working out of the fruit of the Spirit in our lives.

I’ve often found things are little different, and sometimes worse, in Christian community, when it comes to conflict. Often we’ll paper over differences with niceties and placations while we inwardly seethe. Or we just walk away. Or we just keep lots of things off the table and relate at very superficial levels. At its worst, we’ll line up everyone in the church on sides and demonize the others until we split the church.

Some propose the ideal of civil discourse, the best we can hope for in “civil” society. This means rules of engagement separating issues we disagree about and people we respect, reflective listening, avoiding ultimatums, looking for common ground. Kathy Khang and Matt Mikliatos believe we can do better than that in the Christian community because of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit and the fruit this results in that give us the capacity to love across our differences.

The authors, who never met each other in person before writing this book together, practice what they preach. They come from very different cultural backgrounds. They alternate chapters on each of the fruit of the Spirit and ask questions of each other that tease out different perspectives that enrich the discussion. We see the two of them practice this at the very beginning of the book. Matt had initially been approached about writing the book, then Kathy had been proposed as a co-author. Matt thought Kathy would never do it and says, “I decided not to mention it to Kathy. I planned to politely decline for both of us.” Only when a mutual friend asked, “why are you saying no for Kathy” did he reconsider. In the introduction, we read how they process this, how Matt realizes the hurtful impact this has even though intent was good, and how Kathy has often had brothers speak for her as a woman and person of color. What Matt didn’t know was that this was a project she did have energy for. They model embarrassing honesty and grace, and something more–they discover a shared vision for something more than mere civility.

Reading the book, while I appreciated the unpacking of the meaning of each of the nine fruit of the Spirit, what I most appreciated was the dialogue between Matt and Kathy at the end of each chapter. Rather than the “Yes, but…,” that characterizes many dialogues, their are appreciative reflections and searching questions: how can I grow in love toward people I find the most challenging? do you have any examples of a conflict being resolved well and resulting in peacemaking? can speaking truth be kind and comfortable? what is the difference between the “niceness” that makes other people comfortable and the kindness that allows for clear action?

Along the way, discussions of fruit expose dysfunctions in many evangelical churches. The chapter on goodness lays bare the difference between goodness and the legalism many of us grew up with. They explore the difference between joy and toxic positivity. The chapter on self-control not only explores control of body, mind, and emotion but how we deal with anger and when we need to be angry.

Perhaps the key idea in this book is that Christ-shaped Christian community is worth fighting for. Instead of mere niceness or civility, there are times we need to get our disagreements out in the open, even while determined to stay in the ring out of love for those who are called into this same community. We will mess up, need to apologize, and forgive. And the world will see something compelling. The world knows how to fight but it doesn’t know how to love while fighting. The world has seen plenty of fights split people up. It hasn’t seen people fighting to stay together. That’s the kind of loving disagreement that Khang and Milkiatos says the Holy Spirit makes possible. They challenge us to ask, might we do better?

Review: Land of My Sojourn

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Land of My Sojourn, Mike Cosper. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2024.

Summary: The narrative of a former church leader who stepped away from a toxic leadership culture, the disillusionment that followed, and how reflections from a sojourn in Israel helped him process and find restoration.

Many who read this review will recognize the name of Mike Cosper as the host of the widely listened-to podcast series The Rise & Fall of Mars Hill, part of the podcasting work Cosper does for Christianity Today. In reading his new book, Landscape of My Sojourn, I couldn’t help wonder if what made Cosper so effective as host of the podcast series was that he had lived inside a church situation with some striking similarities to Mars Hill Church under the leadership of Mark Driscoll. In his new book, Cosper narrates his experience as one of the founding pastors of Sojourn, a “ragamuffin” church in Louisville, Kentucky, eventually connected to the Acts 29 movement Driscoll spearheaded.

He recounts heady early days as a leader of worship, and the development of a toxic leadership culture as the church developed into a multi-site congregation. He describes the feeling of always being “one good conversation away from getting things right and making things healthy.” Except it never happened. And then one day in 2015, in the midst of a “re-org,” he looked at the new proposed organization chart, only to find he was not on it.

That wasn’t quite rock bottom. After leaving the leadership of Sojourn, whose lead pastor eventually stepped down due to charges of leadership abuse, Cosper launched a media-focused non-profit to help Christians in the marketplace. After writing what he thought was a commonsense Christian reflection following the release of the Access Hollywood tapes of Donald Trump, he learned that first his lead investor, then others were pulling their money. Following closely on the departure from Sojourn’s leadership, he found himself in a place where none of the familiar touchstones of his faith made sense anymore.

Shortly after all this, Cosper had the opportunity for a “sojourn” in Israel. Visits to different places, and reflection on people like Peter and Elijah who had encounters with God, allowed Cosper to process both what had happened in his life and encounter God afresh for himself, beginning a process of restoration in his life. Each chapter of the book focuses on a particular place and encounter, interwoven with Cosper’s experience at Sojourn Church.

He begins with Mount Tabor, the Mount of Transfiguration and Peter’s desire to just stay there, remembering the halcyon days of Sojourn’s beginnings. He reflects on the heroic encounter of Elijah on Mount Carmel, and the desperate hopes of evangelicals, hoping our heroes are on the side of right and will bring a transformed culture, only to see one after another fail. He visits Mount Hermon, near where Peter confesses Jesus as Messiah and entertains illusions of the Messiah’s conquests and being in the vanguard. He considers Sojourn’s own pretensions to conquest, how they crumbled, and yet how God was quietly at work, as was Jesus, in changing lives.

The Mount of Olives reminds him of Palm Sunday, what seemed a triumphal procession, and how the crowds turned on Jesus. He reflects on the warfare metaphors Mark Driscoll used and how influential these were, and yet how wrong to the kind of king Jesus is. He describes the giant olive trees of Gethsemane, the twisted roots capturing the agony of Jesus, alone while the disciples slept. He considers the dysfunctions of sojourn’s leadership and the times, like the disciples, he was sleeping, and the agony to find himself alone. At Golgotha, he revisits the ways, like Peter that he had lived in denial, and the dissolution of his career and many of his friendships, and the departure of the senior pastor and the last time they spoke. At Sinai, he recalls the whisper of God to Elijah and that, like Elijah, he is not alone. Finally, by Galilee, at Capernaum, he recalls the post-resurrection encounter of Jesus with Peter, the questions that ask of Peter, are you still with me, even after the death of heroic dreams and denials? He’s wary, after all he’s gone through of glib suffering-to-glory narratives, even as he wants to believe.

The end of the book finds him back in Louisville, worshipping at what was once a satellite Sojourn campus, now its own church. He still believes, but with wounds. He describes himself still on the journey, sobered, not taking anything for granted, “still here, making this journey. Through the land of my sojourn.”

I found this book a powerful narrative, both as an inside look at a toxic leadership culture, and an account of coming through painful disillusionment. It’s honest about the losses and betrayals, the denials, and restoration that enables one to go on, not without wounds, but by faith. Because of the vulnerable character of the book, I think it can offer help to others who have faced disillusionment with the church and are tempted to throw in the towel. Cosper’s “I’m still here” makes no false promises but simply walks in the steps of Elijah and Peter, who decide to carry on in faith when dreams and illusions (including self-delusions) have died.

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

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — John DeMain

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John DeMain, Music Director, Madison Symphony Orchestra. Photo by Peter Rogers. Used with permission.

I’ve received many wonderful article ideas from friends who live or used to live in Youngstown. This idea came from a friend living outside of Madison, Wisconsin. He’s attends a number of the concerts of the Madison Symphony Orchestra. He raves over the leadership their Music Director, John DeMain has given over the past thirty years of his tenure. He thought I should write about him because he grew up in Youngstown.

So I dug into Maestro DeMain’s story and discovered that his experiences in Youngstown established the whole arc of an amazing music career that included a Grammy and a Tony Award, premieres of several major works, as well as his many accomplishments with the Kenley Players, the Houston Grand Opera, a brief stint with the Youngstown Symphony, and his long and fruitful tenure in Madison, as well as numerous guest appearances with major orchestras throughout the world. So, I was surprised and delighted when he spent an hour this past week talking about his musical journey as a young man in Youngstown..

John DeMain grew up on the Southside of Youngstown, living on Southern Boulevard, just north of Midlothian. His musical career began at age two when he sang a boy soprano part in the Lady’s of Mount Carmel church choir. A solo for his kindergarten class led to him being featured in the Rotogravure section. He continued to sing and his parents decided to buy him a piano to develop his musical abilities. After three years with a piano teacher, he learned all she could teach. She connected him with Hermann Gruss and his wife Blanche, who continued his instruction after Hermann died, through high school.

As a young boy of nine, he performed as a singer in a joint Youngstown Symphony and Playhouse production of Amahl and the Night Visitors. He had early experiences of observing Michael Ficocelli, founder and first director of the Youngstown Symphony, and also diocese music director and John’s band teacher. John observed Ficocelli conducting and substituted for him when he was absent. He worked under Lillian Stambaugh who was the pianist for a production of Paint Your Wagon at the Youngstown Playhouse at age 13. The following year, at age fourteen, he conducted music with a pit orchestra for Brigadoon at the Playhouse. He spoke of “bossing around people old enough to be his grandparents…and loving it.” He did this for three years. During these years he also accompanied productions at Cardinal Mooney and briefly served as a rehearsal pianist at the Kenley Players. He also accompanied for opera students and was observed by Lawrence Lawler, a benefactor who took him to see the Met when they were in Cleveland

In the summer of his junior year, while a student at Cardinal Mooney, he entered a piano competition with the Youngstown Symphony, performing Beethoven’s First Piano Concerto. He was amazed to find out that he won the competition, beating out a student from Juilliard and debuting with the Youngstown Symphony. He credits this as an important factor to winning admission at Juilliard with Adele Marcus, the teacher of the student who he beat out in the competition. He earned Bachelor’s and Masters Degrees from Juilliard. His time in New York exposed him to the vibrant New York and New England musical scene, including a chance to conduct The King and I. He also returned in the summer as assistant conductor for the Kenley Players. He then served as the Music Director for the Kenley Players from 1965 to 1975 and spoke glowingly of John Kenley. We realized that our paths had actually crossed. One of my high school dates was at the Kenley Players production of Man of La Mancha with Giorgio Tozzi. He directed that production and told me about the huge staircase designed by the set designer.

He went to serve as conductor of the Houston Grand Opera in 1975 and immediately became involved in one of the signature productions of his career, a staging of the full score of Porgy and Bess. After the initial 1935 production, much of the content and distinctly African-American and jazz influences were cut from the production. These were restored by the Houston Grand Opera and the result was that the 1976 recording, conducted by John DeMain, won Grammy, Tony and the French Grand Prix du Disque awards in 1976. When they brought the production to New York, Leonard Bernstein told DeMain that this was the Porgy and Bess production that he had waited forty years to hear. In all, he has performed the opera over four hundred times.

John DeMain told me that this was the musical achievement he was proudest of and mentioned two others. One was the premiere performance of John Adams Nixon in China in 1987 and the other, the premiere of Leonard Bernstein’s opera, A Quiet Place. DeMain’s work on Porgy so impressed Bernstein that he asked DeMain to conduct a new production of West Side Story, after which he wanted DeMain to premiere his opera.

It was during his time with the Houston Grand Opera that he also served as an Acting Music Director of the Youngstown Symphony, during the mid-1980’s. After seventeen years with the Houston Grand Opera, DeMain became the music director of the Madison Symphony Orchestra in 1994. At that time, the Orchestra played in the old Oscar Mayer Theatre and consisted of section chairs from the University of Wisconsin-Madison and student musicians. He instituted blind auditions, a standard practice in top professional orchestras and now draws players from throughout the country. He also led the orchestra in performances of the complete Mahler Symphony cycle.

In 2004, he helped open the new Overture Center for the Arts, home to nine different Madison arts organizations and an amazing Concert Organ. Maestro DeMain told me that he thinks the concert hall acoustics, already celebrated, continue to become more resonant as the wood in the hall seasons. The symphony will celebrate its 100th year in the 2025-26 season. DeMain, who just turned 80, announced that he will step down at the end of that season so that a new director can take the orchestra into its next century. As he prepares to step down, he leaves an organization that is fiscally sound and enjoys the largest arts endowment in Wisconsin.

He will continue to be involved for now as artistic director for the Madison Opera but also hopes to do some travel and teaching but does not anticipate another music director position. In January 2023, DeMain received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Opera Association.

John DeMain’s amazing career began in Youngstown. He was a childhood prodigy as singer and pianist. He was conducting ensembles before he was in high school, experiences that solidified for him his love of conducting, even though up to that time, he’d had little formal training. He’s achieved an amazing body of work and we may be justly proud of this musical director who began as a young man from the Southside of Youngstown.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Review: Prophet Song

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Prophet Song, Paul Lynch. New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 2023.

Summary: A mother tries to hold her family and life together as Ireland descends into authoritarian rule.

Paul Lynch’s Prophet Song, winner of the 2023 Booker Prize is a tough read in two respects. One is seeing the unraveling of a democratic society through the disbelieving eyes of Eilish stack, an educated, middle class mother who works for a biotech company. It is disturbing becausew of how close to home it strikes.

The other respect is the text, written without paragraphs with dialogue without quotation marks. Yet this running text reflects increasingly unsettled and anxious perceptions of Eilish, fusing dialogue, emotions, and interior thought. We sense her movement back and forth from disbelief to concern, from hollow assurances that even her children don’t believe to rising fear, from clinging to the hope that her “disappeared” will come home to the realization that no one taken by the government comes home, from the illusion that she can preserve her home and way of life and that their only hope is flight. It’s the increasingly frantic and instinctive thought of one who loses husband, two sons, her job, her respect as “traiter” is spray-painted on her car and home, as her neighborhood becomes a battleground between the regime and the resistance, and finally her flight with her daughter and infant son, having to pay “fees” at numerous checkpoints as she they try to flee. The running text takes us inside her mind and we live the growing terror with Eilish.

It all begins when the National Alliance Party takes over the Republic of Ireland, declares emergency powers and suspends the constitution including writs of habeas corpus. The reality comes home when her husband Larry, a leader in a teacher’s union, goes out to a protest–and never returns. Her eldest son Mark has to go into hiding to avoid the drafting of 17 year-olds. He joins the resistance. After infrequent communications on burner phones, Eilish hears no more, but persists in hoping he will come home. Then, after a list of draft-dodgers, including her son, is published, she learns her services are no longer required. Meanwhile, her father, across town, is descending into dementia. Yet, in his occasional lucid moments, he tells her she must take the children and leave.

Subsequently, her neighborhood becomes front lines in the battle between the Party and the resistance. Power and water are intermittent and the gone. Buildings around suffer bombardment. Yet she uses all her resources, including money from her sister for her to get out of the country to survive. She can’t let go of hope that her husband and son will come home. Only when another son goes missing does she realize that she must save the two who remain–if she can.

The story takes us into the powerful disbelief that democracy really can’t unravel and how rapidly a society can consume itself when it does. We also see how powerful the urge is to try to hold onto home, onto some shred of normalcy. We glimpse how bad things must get for someone to flee from home and become a refugee. When Eilish’s neighborhood becomes a warzone, her running narrative gives the reader of what lived reality must be like in Gaza and other warzones.

Paul Lynch takes us to a place those of us in the West resist going. We join Eilish in denial that it can happen here–that our institutions, the rule of law, our education, jobs, and suburbs will protect us. He forces us to look into the dark abyss through the eyes of Eilish to recognize the vulnerability of all of this when we embrace unfettered power rather than the less “efficient” processes of the rule of law and democratic legislative processes. His book reminds us that the possibility of effective resistance after the fact is far more perilous than resisting beforehand, as inconvenient as that may be. Is this book a “Prophet Song” for us?

Review: Hope for God’s Creation

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Hope for God’s Creation: Stewardship in an Age of Futility, Andrew J. Spencer.Brentwood, TN: B & H Academic, 2023.

Summary: A theology of creation care that grounds an ethic of stewardship and hopeful practice, anticipating the new creation.

Many Christians in the evangelical community are either cautious or even skeptical of concern for the creation. They think of it as either a re-arranging of the deck chairs on the Titanic, or grounded in a pagan belief system. So it was interesting to read this account of creation care written by a Southern Baptist educated supervisor of training at a nuclear power plant. I found it an account tempered by caution against excess while actively advocating for our responsibility as God-appointed stewards to care for creation and proposing active steps one may take. Most of all, I found an account that grounded creation care ethics and praxis, not in the urgent cries of the moment, or the current findings of science, but in a theology for creation care.

Spencer begins with the idea that we care for creation for the glory of God. He addresses the idea of “creation subject to futility” by observing what follows, the hope of redemption for our bodies and all of creation. That hope means we live in hope, leading to actions that anticipate that renewal without the illusion that we will accomplish it, actions that in some cases bring substantial cleanup, as has been seen in many of the rivers, skies, and resurgence of some endangered species. This hope counters the despair in much of the environmental movement.

With that, Spencer contends both for the necessity of care for creation and against the danger of environmentalism becoming an all-encompassing ideology, supplanting the gospel of the kingdom for Christians, stifling evangelical proclamation and other worthy concerns. He weigh’s Lynn White’s classic article blaming Christianity for exploitation of the environment, arguing that while aspects are accurate, the story is far more nuanced, and much environmental depredation may be traced to a modernity that removed God from the picture. He traces environmentalism in the US, how evangelicals both engaged in environmental efforts and how environmentalism became entwined with the culture wars, resulting in increasing evangelical suspicion

The second part of the work focuses on theology. He proposes four doctrinal questions that serve as the basis for creation care ethics and practice:

  1. What are the sources of authority for environmental ethics?
  2. Why does creation have value?
  3. What is the human role in creation?
  4. What is the end goal or final state of the created order, and how does it come about?

The following four chapters discuss each of these in turn. As one might expect, scripture is the Christian’s final authority, and yet we may learn from science as a form of general revelation without being compelled to accommodate scripture to science or undermine its authority. We learn from science without succumbing to scientism. He turns to the value of creation, which he argues has both instrumental value for its use and inherent value as good because God made it so. Only God has intrinsic value and is worthy of worship. Spencer traces the effects of the fall and what has, is, and will be restored in redemption, the value of which is signaled to us in the incarnation. Given this framework, we are warned against both pantheism and dualism.

Humans are called to steward creation for God’s glory. Spencer challenges the anti-human bias in some strands of environmentalism. Despite our limitations and failures, we have a role as God’s redeemed to point toward the healed and restored contours of the new creation. As we look toward new creation, we pursue the substantial healing both in our own life and the creation while realizing that only Christ will purge all evil from the world and fully renew all things. Spencer argues on the basis of word studies that all will not be burned but rather disclosed–a judging and purifying prior to restoration.

So how then does this theology say we ought live? First he addresses the church and environment. He is careful not to allow the environment to usurp the mission of the church but argues, a la Francis Schaeffer, for the church as a “pilot plant” in which creation care is part of the holistic discipleship that encompasses all of life. The aim is not to allow green practices to take over church life but rather to ask how God may be glorified in all things including our facilities and grounds management.

He then turns to conspiracy thinking and political conflict, both of which undermine the gospel. Rather than contend about climate change, he uses a “Pascal’s Wager” argument that a life of restraint will be good for us and the creation even if climate models don’t prove out. Rather than becoming embroiled in political conflict at the national level, he calls for a localism that brings people together to solve ground level problems that often is much less divisive and corrosive.

Finally he addresses how we may live hopefully in our own practices: thinking about the costs, environmental and otherwise of missions, sharing resources (do we all need snowblowers?), considering our landscapes and the suburban ideal of emerald lawns, living with wonder, leading quiet lives, exercising restraint on consumption, care in purchasing and growing food, and sabbaths, which give us and our infrastructure a rest.

While some environmentally-minded readers will balk at his warnings about mission drift and the risk of a big ideology of environmentalism usurping the church, what Spencer does is lay a basis for churches that are suspicious or concerned about such things to take steps of creation care. He invites us to do so not because it is culturally relevant or that “science tells me so” but because the Bible tells us so and it glorifies God and is part of following Jesus.

While some would consider this insufficiently “progressive,” it would be a great leap forward for many churches to so theologically form their members and instruct them in whole life discipleship. I think he wisely de-centers our hyperfocus on national politics to think about the old axiom that “all politics are ultimately local.” Noting the push for example toward electric vehicles, he raises the question of local charging sites in our communities–where will we put them? Spencer moves us away from the memes and soundbite debates to the kind of thoughtful and nuanced thinking and praxis that Christians must become better at both to honor God, win others, and serve the common good.

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

Review: Persuasive Apologetics

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Persuasive Apologetics, Jeffrey M. Robinson. Grand Rapids: Kregel Academic, 2023.

Summary: Discusses how we use various apologetic approaches adapted to the various people we meet, thoughtfully and gently seeking to undercut their objections, giving reasons for our hope in Christ.

Jeffrey Robinson is convinced as a pastor that there is still a need for apologetics, indeed for persuasion in seeking to call people to belief in the gospel. He believes persuading people of the truth is simply part of the call all of us have to faithful witness, that it glorifies God, and flows from the commands to love God and others with all our being, including our minds. But our demeanor is crucial, calling for integrity and gentleness.

Understanding a person’s worldview suppositions is crucial to persuasion. For one thing, often only Christians are assumed to have them, when in fact we all do. Robinson offers examples of uncovering these in conversation, exposing inconsistencies, and showing how Christian belief better addresses these, or even how other systems live off inherited Christian belief.

Robinson then discusses different apologetic approaches: fideism, classical apologetics, evidentialism, and presuppositionalism, and reformed epistemology. Rather than advocating a single approach, he would propose that an eclectic apologetic is what we need–different approaches to persuade different people. In the same chapter, as he discusses the noetic effects of sin, he cites James Spiegel’s The Making of an Atheist to talk about “father wounds”–absent, abusive, and aloof, fathers–and the many famous atheists for whom this is true (no counter-examples are listed). I found this intriguing but have also found there were “church wounds”–whether the dismissal of questions or personal observation of hypocrisy or abuse

He turns to the role of undercutting defeaters (UCDs), which rather than rebutting conclusions, undercut and reveal the flaws in a reasoning process. He shows how Jesus does this in the hypothetical of the woman with seven husbands who died, his response to being accused of casting out demons with Satan’s power (the house divided argument), and the question about paying taxes to Caesar. He then explores examples that arise including the hypocrisy in the church objection. He follows this with a discussion comparing Jesus to other religious leaders. He then concludes with reasons for hope in the incarnation and the resurrection and how the work of Christ addresses evil and death.

This work does not replace classic works on apologetics but refers the reader to these. Rather, Robinson argues for the part of persuasion, off both offering reasons to believe and gently but with conviction encouraging others to examine their own beliefs. He offers help in how we respond to and undercut objections to the faith, and how we speak to the crucial issue of hope. A willingness to contend for truth can be an act of loving well.

I found much of value here, including the reaffirmation of the importance of persuasion. At the same time, I would love to see a discussion of persuasion that includes the witness of beauty, the power of loving Christian community, and even the persuasive power of being in the presence of praying Christians. I have seen people come to faith through all of these and wonder how the author would incorporate this into his “eclectic” and “versatile” apologetic. Personally, I like the idea of using everything at our disposal to make known the wonder of God’s saving work through Christ!

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

Review: The Bookseller at the End of the World

/ rtrube54 / 1 Comment

The Bookseller at the End of the World, Ruth Shaw. Auckland, NZ: Allen & Unwin, 2022.

Summary: The story of two small bookshops and their customers in the southernmost part of New Zealand, and the long journey of the bookseller running from trauma, broken dreams, and adventures until re-united with her first love and her work as a bookseller.

Ruth Shaw and her husband Lance run “two wee bookshops” in the southernmost part of New Zealand, a rural town named Manapouri, a scenic destination of vacationers and eco-tourists. This is both about her experiences of bookselling, and the long journey from a working class upbringing across much of the south Pacific until she married her “first and last love,” and after sharing duties of sailing a charter boat, settled down and started the bookshops, at first one, and then a second nearby for children.

Ruth had a pretty normal upbringing, living in Naseby, until it was shattered by a rape at a school dance that left her pregnant. As was the case then, she went away to stay with relatives in Wellington until she had the child, which she gave up for adoption. She tried the Navy but couldn’t handle the discipline. She returned to Stewart Island to assist her parents in running a hotel. It was there that she met Lance Shaw, fell in love, only to have their engagement broken off because Lance couldn’t agree to raise their children Catholic. From helping to run a hotel, she took off to Wellington, running for the next twenty years of her life from trauma and heartbreak

She had various jobs including cook and housekeeper for a house of priests, then went sailing around the Pacific with another man she met and married. But tragedy stalked with her husband dying in a car accident, leaving her with child, who died from an Rh incompatibility, a consequence of her first pregnancy. Later, she returns to the cemetery where he is buried and snatches the cross to remember him by.

She spends twenty years in a wild assortment of jobs, surviving a tsunami, encountering pirates, having run-ins with the law in several countries, returning home long enough to care for her dying mother, attempting suicide and spending time in a mental facility. There were more marriages, from which she ran. For a time she works with a social agency, drawing on her own life to help others. Then a phone call comes from a familiar voice from twenty years ago, asking if she was still Catholic, a reunion with the son she’d given up for adoption, and the move to Manapouri after selling the charter business and the decision to open the bookshops. Always a reader, she began with her own library as the core of her stock.

Interspersed with her memoir are delightful little vignettes called “Tales From the Bookshops.” She tells of giving as many books as she sells, including one to Hamish the hiker. We learn of a couple with a bizarre practice of reading books, of finding the right book for the man who loved tractors, and of how she handles the sale of family books–heirlooms. We are entertained by the story of Lex, the six year-old, who became her “bookshop assistant,” Cove, the bookshop dog, and many more vignettes from her bookselling life.

Ruth Shaw offers us a memoir combining resilience amid trauma and tragedy, a wonderful love story with a happy ending, and plenty of stories any bibliophile will love and identify with. Shaw exemplifies the wonderful quality of all the great booksellers–the ability to connect the hungry reader with just the right book, even from her small shops. You don’t have to go to the Strand, Shakespeare’s or Powell’s. There are dedicated booksellers, even at the end of the world in southern New Zealand who find ways to bring just the right book together with the hungry reader.

Review: God Leads Personally

/ rtrube54 / 1 Comment

God Leads Personally: Why It’s True and How It Works, Robert DiSilvestro. Seville, OH: Bezalel Media, 2023.

Summary: A biblical exploration of how God leads people, concluding that God leads people personally and not just by general principle, and how we may be led by God and avoid deception.

One thing that marks followers of Jesus is that they want to know and do the will of God. The Bible addresses many aspects of the will of God in terms of commands, prohibitions, as well as numerous principles. But is the only way that God speaks to us is through what he has spoken that is recorded in scripture? That is the question being asked in this book by Robert DiSilvestro, an emeritus faculty member best known for his speaking on apologetics with groups of students and in other settings.

He specifically engages the contention of another author, Jim Osman, who argues in God Doesn’t Whisper that since the completion of the writing of the Bible God speaks only through the general instruction of scripture. DiSilvestro embarked on an extensive study of the Bible itself, observing the ways in which God leads and concludes that God’s speaking is not limited to the Bible and that God does lead personally.

First DiSilvestro offers arguments from scripture that show that God does still lead personally and then in the latter part of the books, shows so far as scripture instructs, how that works, and how we may avoid deception. DiSilvestro grounds his case in the truth that God desires personal relationship with his people through Christ in the present and shows how we may enjoy that relationship. Then he shows how God gives guidance, particularly that he directly gives wisdom (cf. James 1:5-8). He addresses the contention that God stopped personal communication after the Bible was completed, citing the lack of any evidence from the Bible that this would be and a preponderance of evidence that God does want to lead his people personally. He also examines the texts Osman cites and shows how Osman’s argument cannot be made from these texts. And he addresses the contention that the Lord’s prayer says nothing about listening by the observations that the prayer is addressed to a Father, an intimate relation that involves speaking and listening and prays for the Father’s will to be done.

DiSilvestro then turns to how we experience this leading. He encourages both expectancy that God will speak and effort in seeking, including obeying the will of God we already know from scripture (in this, he would be in agreement with Osman). He also makes a surprising admission that I found refreshing: “The Bible says a lot more about how to hear from God than I realized, but a lot less than I wanted” [bold in the text] (p. 53). He believes that this is because God leads not by blueprint or formula but in relationship and that we see both ways in scripture God does so without detailed explanation of how this happened. That rang true for me as I reflected on times where I knew clearly God’s leading in a personal situation (and it proved to be so) but I could not entirely say how I knew–a matter of trust in God rather than certainty.

He goes on to show a variety of ways God leads in scripture: God himself resolves situations, letting others given for our good to make a decision, through a spiritually trained mind. He discusses the instances and circumstances where God speaks audibly, leads through visions and dreams, and through quieter, more subjective leadings of the Spirit. He also offers safeguards, including that leadings never contradict clear teaching of scripture or dishonor Christ, that they are often confirmed by other guidance processes, that they reflect the Spirit’s fruit and humility, and so forth. He observes how such leading may lead to a compelling conviction. He addresses how God’s Spirit works in partnership with our minds in speaking and prayer. He addresses the gifts of the Spirit in our ministry within the body, other impartations of the Spirit including a sense of or lack of peace, how to reckon with circumstantial guidance, means like lots.

An important chapter addresses the role of others in Christian community in helping each other hear from God. Others in the community are implicit in many of the discussions throughout, but perhaps because of the focus on God leading personally, the treatment of God leading through community or even of God leading whole communities might be further developed.

Perhaps the most impressive part of this work is the author’s commitment to set forth only what scripture says but also all that scripture says about how God leads in our lives. He’s honest to admit where he’s made mistakes and what he has learned–he frees us from the pressure to get it perfect–that God restores when we err and keeps teaching and leading. And he frames all of this in a relationship with God through trust in Christ and the indwelling work of God’s Spirit, which he wants for all his readers. He helps us see that God offers far more than abstract and general guidance, he offers us Himself as Guide.

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