Review: What Grows in Weary Lands

Cover image of "What Grows in Weary Lands" by Tish Harrison Warren

What Grows in Weary Lands

What Grows in Weary Lands, Tish Harrison Warren. Convergent Books (ISBN: 9780593728840) 2026.

Summary: Lessons for the weary from the desert fathers and mothers on practices that cultivate resilience and renewal.

One of the hard things I’ve seen in my Christian journey are others with whom I travelled give up, often in mid-life. While some have been because of “church hurt,” others are just tired. The demands of life combined with their own waning energies are part of it. Another part is that the faith of their twenties isn’t working anymore. The God who once seemed so real is distant. Some, out of habit, keep showing up, perhaps with a faint glimmer of hope that something will break through. Others just walk away. Sunday brunch is so much more inviting.

To look at her from the outside, Tish Harrison Warren was the model of the vibrant Christian. A gifted writer, she had reached the rarefied air of writing a weekly op-ed for The New York Times after a string of well-received books and articles. She was also an Anglican priest, who had returned to her home town of Austin, and the mom of three children. But her life mirrored that of many in mid-life: in the “sandwich,” harried, distracted. In reality, she felt like she was in a desert–weary and parched.

In this book, she describes turning to a weird bunch of saints from 1700 years ago, the desert fathers and mothers, the progenitors of monasticism. Yes, they did some strange things lie sit on pillars. But they also understood that the desert is part of the spiritual journey. They named the condition and the tendencies to “flame out” or “numb out.” Instead, they wrestled what it meant to go on with God through the desert times.

After this introduction, Warren, in a series of pithily titled chapters reflects upon and passes along their wisdom. “Stay in Your Cell” focuses on the temptation of acedia, to flee to ease or new distractions, and the wisdom of stability, of staying true to one’s people and one’s spiritual practices. We meet John of the Cross, who learns to set aside the longing for feeling or insight to simply be with God in his cell, even when there is no sense of his presence. “Pledge Your Body to the Walls” draws on Benedicts insights about gyrovagues who moved from one monastery to another. Warren explores all the ways we are gyrovagues from relentless moves to church switches and the challenge of letting our roots sink deep in a place.

“Wait in the Womb” explores how stability that waits and perseveres becomes a place where God develops and transforms us. She quotes C.S. Lewis’s counsel to ” ‘continue seeking with cheerful seriousness,’ knowing that unless God ‘wanted you, you would not be wanting Him.’ ” Then, “Relax the Bow” draws on a story of Antony with a hunter, asking him to draw a bow more and more until the hunter protests that it will snap. So it is, Antony says with God’s work. Warren writes about learning the gift of days of delight and sabbath and the grace of confession as ways to relax the bow. Likewise, “Let the Silt Settle” invites us to silence and solitude.

Throughout the book, Warren is both hopeful and yet honest. There are no quick fixes or shortcuts out of the desert. This is a book about going through desert lands, about how to keep going, cultivating resilience. “Brace the Wall” addresses the realities of doubt and disorientation in our desert journeys. We have questions and don’t see clearly the way forward. And sometimes we doubt that God can be trusted. She writes of working through the Psalms and how “yelling at God about our anger, our doubt, and our complaints is perhaps one of the most faithful moves we can make.”

Finally, “All Smoke, All Flame” speaks to “the culmination of Christian resilience.” The title comes from the counsel of Abba Joseph to Abba Lot, who recites his practices and asks “what else can I do?” Abba Joseph “stretched his hands toward heaven. His fingers became like ten lamps of fire and he said to him, ‘If you will, you can become all flame.” We cannot force fire by our efforts, which are just smoke. But by grace through our stumbling practices of faithfulness, we slowly progress. And one day God will set us ablaze in glory.

There is a lot of wisdom as well as earthy humor in Warren’s rich prose. The gist of it all is to not give up, flaming out or numbing out. It is not to chase after spiritual quick fixes. It is to stay put and keep going deeper in the inexhaustible world of prayer and scripture, of sacrament and community. I’m past those perilous middle years. But Warren speaks to my senior years as well. It’s so easy to settle in. I need her call to persevere all the more. And, I’m compelled by the vision to become all flame. By grace, may it be so!

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

Review: Hints of Hope

Cover image of "Hints of Hope" by Steven Garber

Hints of Hope

Hints of Hope, Steven Garber, foreword by Makoto Fujimura. Paraclete Press (ISBN: 9798893480344) 2026.

Summary: How we might live with hope in a beautiful but broken world where even our best efforts realize only proximately our ideals.

As followers of Christ, we speak of our hope in Christ, of new life in a renewed creation. But that seems far away for many of us. In the lives we live now, we struggle with the disparity between the vision toward which we live and the present realities of living in a beautiful but broken world as beautiful but broken people. Whether we look at our marriages, our parenting, our work, our civic engagement, we find much that is good. And yet….

That “and yet” is what Steve Garber calls the proximate. Whatever good we experience in the various arenas of our lives pales before what we know things could be. Often, life is marked with failure and grief as well as joy and achievement. One of the big questions is how we might continue to live with hope and make our peace with the proximate. It is to this that Garber devotes the essays that make up this book. In the Introduction, he likens our lives to the seashells we find along a beach–all beautiful, but broken, all glorious ruins–and all seeking to make sense of our reason for being. Then in the following eight essays, he will reflect further, often coming back to the affections, the love on which our lives turn.

Garber begins with his own story, and that of his father, a plant researcher who focused on growing good, disease resistant cotton. And much good cotton was grown, yet plant diseases persist to this day. The proximate. Then Garber turns to travels through Slovakia, the writing of Vaclav Havel, and Jozef Luptak, who convened a society-wide music festival called Konvergencie. It represented an effort to curate the best of Slovak culture while many remained indifferent. The proximate. Finally, he turns to the Lord of the Rings and the amazing quest of Frodo and Sam, destroying the Ring of Power, witnessing the coronation of Aragorn, and cleansing the Shire. And yet there were wounds that only a journey to the Western lands could heal.

That’s one chapter, weaving several stories around the theme of “glimpses of hope.” Garber’s remaining chapters follow a similar pattern, mixing personal narrative, the stories of others, and reflections from literature around a theme. He weighs the question of telos, the end toward which we live, and how it shapes our praxis. In exploring our quest for meaning, he considers Douglas Copeland and his Life After God. Can we make sense of our lives apart from God?

Then follow several chapters on various aspects of what it is to love. He reflects on how, in Wendell Berry’s words, “it all turns on affection”–our families, our work, our economic life, our communal and political life. It is a question Augustine asks: “What do you love?” Then Garber goes on to consider how Hannah Arendt, Reinhold Niebuhr, Lesslie Newbigin, and Jean Bethke Elshtain answered the question. “Love in the Ruins” connects stories from around the world of those who loved amid the proximate. Finally, “A Long-loved Love” looks at love and the proximate in marriages, including Garber’s own.

The final chapters face both the wounds and scars we bear and our longing for something more. We follow Garber from Birmingham to Pittsburgh to the art studios of Makoto Fujimura, who demonstrates the art of kintsugi. Each story is one of fashioning beauty out of brokenness. Finally, he considers the something more for which we long. He tells an amazing story of the Tunyi family from Nagaland. This is a remote place bordering Bangladesh, Bhutan, and Myanmar. They are dedicated to cultivating the good for the sake of the kingdom. Their efforts range across education, healthcare, and politics, as signposts pointing to the something more. And to close the circle, Garber ends with Lewis and Tolkien.

Garber writes beautifully, evoking in the reader images, thoughts, and feelings as one reads. There is the ethos of Garber’s own life, and search for hope. Then we have the pathos of so many stories of those living hopefully while making peace with the proximate. Finally, there is also logos, as Garber in the company of great writers, invites us to consider our telos. Toward what end do we live and what do we love?

If I were to offer any critique, it would be that these reflections sometimes border on “stream of consciousness.” There are so many stories that sometimes, keeping track of Garber’s theme can be a challenge. It’s easy to get lost in his excellent prose and skilled storytelling!

So what this calls for is slow and attentive reading…and reflecting. But what that yields is so worth it. In a world that vacillates between unrealistic ideals and ideologies and deep disillusionment, living with hope in the proximate is good news. Garber sees beyond the “glittering images” to our beautiful and broken reality, and helps us live toward something more.

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

Review: Knowing Christ Today

Cover image of "Knowing Christ Today" by Dallas Willard

Knowing Christ Today

Knowing Christ Today, Dallas Willard. Harper Collins (ISBN: 9780062311795) 2014 (first published in 2009).

Summary: Why the knowledge of Christ is real knowledge of true things on which one may base one’s life and confidently speak.

I’ve encountered it. Statements like “God exists,” Christ died to save us,” Christ is risen” and many others are treated quite differently from E=MC2. We treat the former as opinions or sentiments whereas we treat the latter as a statement of fact. We relegate the former to the category of “faith” whereas the latter is “knowledge.”

In this book Dallas Willard argues to the contrary, that Christian belief is equally a form of knowledge, accurately representing reality, based upon evidence. We may act upon this knowledge. Faith is not “blind” but acting upon the known. Not only that, Willard goes on to argue that this is indispensable knowledge, without which we perish into some form of idolatry, as Willard points out in contrasting other worldviews to Christian belief. Furthermore, Willard goes on to argue that the rejection of Christian knowledge has been accompanied by the disappearance of moral knowledge

But how does Willard make the case for Christian belief as true knowledge? In chapter four, he puts forth a form of the cosmological argument for the existence of a creator. He then puts forth a case for God’s activity in the world, including his active intervention in miracles culminating in the resurrection of Jesus.

But how does one live out the knowledge of Christ? Chapter 6 pulls together strands from other works on entering the kingdom with humble obedience and the practice of spiritual disciplines in community. The concluding chapter 8 discusses the role of preachers, calling them to base their preaching upon this knowledge.

However, Christians have often come off as arrogant know-it-alls? How is the assertion of Christian faith as true knowledge to avoid this in a religiously pluralistic world? First of all, he asks whether believing oneself right about something and others wrong is inherently arrogant? Or is it possible to be humble and loving about our disagreements? Then he recognizes the value of a “weak” pluralism that affirms the good wherever we find it. Yet no true believer would say it makes no difference what one believes. However, there is the troubling question of the fate of those who never hear the gospel. While affirming that salvation is always by grace and through Christ, he joins Billy Graham in affirming that these are decisions only God will make.

This work is important for Christians who feel faith is relegated to the personal and private. It helps them understand both how this has come about and why its wrong. Without extensive excursions into epistemology or apologetics, it outlines why Christian belief is real knowledge. However this reveals a shortcoming of the work. It makes arguments without dealing with why many have challenged them. But that would require a much longer book. That said, this work helps restore a humble confidence in believing and proclaiming Christ.

Review: Am I a Better Christian on Zoloft?

Cover image of "Am I a Better Christian on Zoloft?" by Mark Tabb

Am I a Better Christian on Zoloft?

Am I a Better Christian on Zoloft?, Mark Tabb. Revell (ISBN: 9780800746285) 2025.

Summary: Mark Tabb asks questions we might hesitate to admit having to other Christians.

What do you do when everyone around you seems so sure of their faith? You believe as well…or want to. But you have questions. And you feel like you are the only one.

For writer/collaborator Mark Tabb, his questions had to do with his prescribed use of Zoloft. He struggled for years with depression. Exercise worked…until the endorphins wore off. Bible verses, prayer, community, even reading didn’t work. Finally, he sought medical help and a doctor put him on Zoloft. And it worked! And he really was a better person to be around. But is this the same as growing in Christlikeness? The breakthrough for him came when he realized that humbling himself, admitting he needed help was the place where he experienced grace. Growth was admitting he couldn’t save himself from depression. He’s not saying medications are the answer for everyone. But the step of admitting one needs help may be one of the most Christlike things someone struggling with depression can take. And for him, its OK to be a better Christian on Zoloft.

This is the kind of vulnerable, and often witty, candor that runs through this book exploring some of the questions Christians have that they are afraid to admit to others. One I liked as I’ve been binge-watching The Chosen for another book I’m reviewing is “Can I call myself a Christian if I Don’t Watch The Chosen?” I kind of wondered that myself as I listened to so many friends rave about the series. Like the author, I had seen so many really bad Christian productions, I was gun-shy of one more.

Tabb assures us that if that’s you, its OK to be a misfit. We conform to Christ, not each other. (I should note that I ended up being surprised how much I like the series–the first really human portrayal of Jesus I’ve seen as well as a series that amplifies the voices of the women who were around Jesus.)

Tabb addresses eight other questions:

  • Do I Really Have to Chase My Dreams?
  • Did Not Allowing My Children to Watch The Simpsons Make Any Difference?
  • Is God Sort of Mean?
  • If I Believe God Is in Control, Why Am I So Upset About the Last Election?
  • Why Don’t I Feel It?
  • Did the Church in Ancient Ephesus Have a Creative Arts Director?
  • Can I Claim Jeremiah 29:11 as My Life Verse If I’ve Never Read the Book of Jeremiah?
  • What If I’m Wrong?

Much of what Tabb does is invite us to look beyond evangelical Christian culture to an honest reading of the Bible. In the chapter “Is God So Mean?” he believes an honest reading of the Bible shatters our self-made images of God and challenges us with the question, will we let God be God? For the same reason, he challenges the way we pull verse of scripture out of context, such as Jeremiah 29:11. Reading them in context enriches their message and guards us against misusing them.

The other thing Tabb does is challenge evangelical conventions that may become a burden (as in The Simpsons question). He addresses how hard parenting is, and that evangelicals often add to the guilt when what we need is grace, and to begin anew each day. He assures us that we will not always feel it and that what matters is following, no matter what it feels like (or not).

Finally, the humility that seeks help in depression is the humility that admits the possibility of being wrong. Like Tabb, I find myself most concerned when I encounter those who never ask “what if I’m wrong?” In a study of Mark’s gospel, I found my own “need to be right” challenged as I realized that there was more to being righteous than being right. I discovered that one could think oneself right and plot to kill Messiah.

Tabb may not answer the questions he asks to one’s satisfaction. What is more significant is that this older Christian (about my age) gives permission to voice the questions we’re not sure we can ask. One hopes books like this will shift the character of churches from places with all the answers to places where we may explore our deepest questions. This is so vital. My sense is that many leave, not because the church couldn’t answer their questions. Rather, they leave because they couldn’t ask them or were dismissed when they tried.

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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.

Review: Knowing and Being Known

Cover image of "Knowing and Being Known" by Erin F. Moniz

Knowing and Being Known, Erin F. Moniz. InterVarsity Press (ISBN: 9781514010037) 2025.

Summary: Explores elements of healthy relationships. the complexities of intimacy, and how the gospel relates to intimacy.

“I can live without sex, but I can’t live without intimacy.”

This statement from Erin F. Moniz’s new book on intimacy comes like a splash of fresh, cold water on the face. A wake up. Provocative. Surprising. And after all that, refreshing. Moniz proposes that intimacy is not confined to sex but has to do with relationships with friends, family, and ultimately, God. But she contends that the intimacy narrative has been co-opted by secular culture. While many young Christians think Christianity ought to enrich one’s understanding of intimacy, few have any idea of how this is so. Cultural narratives, and sexual essentialism reign. In this book, Moniz explores how secularism took over the intimacy narrative, how healthy relationships form and flourish, and how the gospel offers hope for intimacy.

The first part of the book lays groundwork in several ways. Moniz offers a framework for intimate relationships, noting that not all intimate relationships are sexual. Nor are all sexual relationships intimate. Healthy relationships, she contends, are marked by self-giving love, attention and curiosity, and commitment. Two other components undergird these: communication and trust-building behaviors. She then takes a deep dive into cultural analysis, showing how secular culture has coopted our understanding of intimacy. She calls out hook-up culture, romance idolatry, and hypersexualization that threatens to make all relationships sexual. Sadly, Christianity bought into this, confining sexual essentialism to marriage and creating a sexually-charged purity culture. In so doing, we hand youth broken compasses rather than a distinctive relationship ethic centered in the gospel.

The second part of the book addresses the idea of a gospel-centered theology of intimacy. She roots our longing for intimacy in God’s good creation and the loving intimacy within the Trinity. She traces intimacy problems to shame, absent before the fall. We fear vulnerability, an essential to intimacy. Yet God hasn’t given up on us but pursues restorative relationships while preserving our agency and consent. Then Moniz explores the experience of loneliness, which we can assuage in unhealthy ways. Or we can choose to see loneliness as an invitation from God to show us both ourselves and Himself. Finally, the gospel involves a re-membering, both of who we are as the beloved of God and members with others in one body.

The final part of the book works out the implications of gospel centered intimacy in the church. She works out what this looks like for marriages, families, and friendships within the larger community. She envisions a place where everyone belongs to the family–eating together, sharing resources, and even fighting for each other in the face of injustice. Church becomes a place of forming healthy relationships rooted in the serving love of the gospel. In her epilogue, she gets real, describing a community that was so there for her family when thieves broke into their home. Yet that same community fell apart a few years later. Our hope is a messy hope because we are messy. Yet the hope of those seasons of gospel intimacy bids us to not give up.

The two strengths of this book for me are Moniz’s description of how the secular narrative of intimacy co-opted Christian communities and how she roots intimacy theologically in the gospel. Stories from both personal and campus ministry experience complement the sound theological framework she offers. She is someone who has walked the talk. For those longing for intimacy, she offers a much larger vision than just sex. Above all, she affirms the longing for intimacy as a good gift of God.

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

Review: Hope Ain’t a Hustle

Cover image of "Hope Ain't a Hustle" by Irwyn Ince

Hope Ain’t a Hustle, Irwyn Ince (Foreword by Christina Edmonson). InterVarsity Press (ISBN: 9781514005743), 2024.

Summary: A series of messages from the book of Hebrews making the case for the confidence we may have in Christ, our great high priest who endured the storm, who sustains our hope, and calls us to enduring faithfulness.

There are a lot of hustles out there–on the streets, in business, and even in our email. Sometimes even Christianity has appeared to be a hustle, promising a good life, as long as one enriches the congregation’s coffer. Irwyn Ince contends that this is not true of God when he writes:

“But God is not a hustler. And the hope he calls us to cannot be built on naive expectations that people will start seeing the things the way we do. Our longing cannot be built on the arrogant assumption that we are completely right in the positions we take. It cannot even be built on an expectation of steady improvement. If the arc of the moral universe does indeed bend toward justice, that arc will never be smooth and straight from a human perspective. It will have twists and turns, ups and downs, starts and stops. Our hope, if it is to be enduring, must be rooted in the glory of Jesus Christ.” (p. 9).

In this book, Pastor Ince works from the book of Hebrews to show that hope grounded in the person and work of Jesus will never disappointment and will sustain us through the greatest of life’s challenges.

The book is organized in three parts. The first, “The Storm Before the Calm” addresses the storm the readers of Hebrews may be facing and the supreme authority of Jesus as Son amid the storms. Not only that, Jesus was made like us and entered the danger zone where we live. He came to liberate, to intercede, and to help as high priest and son over God’s house, superior to Moses. Through our hope in Jesus. we may rest in the danger zone, like John Lewis and Diane Nash as leaders of the Nashville sit-ins. As we rest in Jesus who went before us, we may rest while we suffer, knowing we will share in the rest of his glory.

Part Two, “Keep Hope Alive” begins with those words from Jesse Jackson at the 1988 Democratic Convention. Ince explores the unreasonable hope of Abraham and the arc between Melchizedek and the greater high priest Jesus, reflecting on unreasonable hope in the face of prison and plundering that the Hebrews faced, and the assurance they have in a great high priest who offered himself. He was the high priest who became perfect for us through his obedience, who is able to perfect us. His ministry, covenant, and promise are better than all who came before him. There is no better place to go, no better person in whom to find hope, than Jesus. To him we need to return, and he will keep our hope alive.

Part Three, “In Need of Endurance” speaks of the dogged persistence our hope in Jesus sustains. Endurance is built on upward confidence, inward confession of hope, and outward commitment. Ince points to the teaching of Hebrews to endure by faith, in need, and in joy. He uses the example of Superman’s X-ray vision to describe the kind of faith that sees Jesus through the challenges we face. Those who endure by faith live for the heavenly city, the better country, like Freedom Rider Jim Zwerg who suffered a terrible beating while praying to remain nonviolent and to forgive his attackers. Those who endure run through exhaustion by staying with the crowd, by dropping the weight of sin, by keeping our heads up, and fixing our eyes on the future with gratitude, lighting up the darkness.

Pastor Ince writes a book on hope that doesn’t see the world with rose-colored glasses. He writes how the hope that doesn’t hustle that we have in Jesus helps us face dark times without retreating into either fantasy or despair. For those dismayed by the slow progress toward justice in so many aspects of life, he bids us to keep hope alive through Jesus who went there before us and is both the son who reigns and the great high priest who intercedes. He challenges us that hope endures. It never gives up, so certain is it in the promise of God. Through the text of Hebrews, tales of courage from the Civil Rights movement, and personal life, Pastor Ince offers the gritty instruction we need to live into our hope in a “wearying world.”

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

Review: A Non-Anxious Life

A Non-Anxious Life, Alan Fadling. Downers Grove: IVP Formatio, 2024.

Summary: Proposes, as an alternative to an anxiety-driven life of hurry, restlessness, worry, and performance, a life under the non-anxious presence of Jesus of stillness, rest, peace, and fruitful love.

“For most of my adult life, I’ve been a master of anxiety…” With these words, Alan Fadling begins this book about his own journey toward a non-anxious life. Anxiety had been his basic way of approaching situations and people. But it came at a cost of tunnel-vision, the draining of his energies, and knee-jerk assumptions about life. He discovered that the presence of the Prince of Peace in his life and his ongoing shepherding has led to a less hurried, worried, and restless life. He’s honest about the truth that this doesn’t mean an anxiety-free life but rather learning how to relinquish anxieties to One who cares.

He reminds us of Jesus lesson about the birds, reinforced by watching the birds about his home. Jesus says that as much as he cares for the birds and flowers, even more does he care for his friends. His care for us today means we don’t need to import tomorrow’s worries into today. He’s learned to practice the four movements of Philippians 4:6-7 of prayer, petition, thanksgiving, and requests. Prayer isn’t rehearsing our worries but leaving them with God, exchanging them for peace. He notes the presence of grace and peace at the beginning and end of Paul’s letters, suggesting a rhythm of breathing in and breathing out God’s grace and peace, becoming grace- and peace-filled people.

We enter into peace as we exchange the presence of anxiety for the presence of God. He describes an exercise of experiencing God’s presence in our whole bodies, noticing those places where we are particularly tense. He sees wisdom in the example of Saint Francis, who urged his followers to “live Jesus” in the virtues of humility, patience, simplicity, kindness, and gentleness, virtues that displace worldly ways that engender anxiety. He invites us into the dependence and surrender that says:

  Don't try so hard with God.
  Receive what God is giving.
  Enter into what God is doing.
  Offer a simple expression of your love to God.
  Be as gentle with yourself as God is.
  Don't come to God only to feel better.
  Welcome however God wishes to be present.
  This is the way of peace (pp. 84-85).

He observes the deep and abiding joy of God and the amazing truth that God takes joy in us! Living into that knowledge replaces burdens with buoyancy, joy and hope. He invites us to consider the Goliaths that constrict our lives including the Goliath of our smartphones, filling a page with all the functions they have taken over in our lives (p. 116). He describes being kept awake with worry and the promise of Isaiah 26:3-4 that helped him of God keeping him in perfect peace as he trusts in him.

He offers a chapter on rhythms of peace useful for retreats and practices and precepts to help us to be non-anxious in our work. He concludes with inviting us to exchange being masters of anxieties and to embark on the path of becoming masters of peace. In addition to sharing practices for exchanging anxiety for peace in each chapter, he offers “Non-Anxious Reflection” at the conclusion of each chapter. The book includes a beautiful “non-anxious prayer” in one appendix that we might use regularly and a guide for groups in a second appendix.

Fadling alludes at points to seeing a counselor and to using anti-anxiety prescribed medications. It might have been helpful, without giving medical advice, to discuss when one ought to explore these options in addition to the spiritual practices he has found helpful and why counseling and medication needn’t be opposed to spiritual practice.

That said, Fadling’s example of personal transparency and combination of precept and practice throughout this book invites readers into a life of trust and rest instead of anxiety and hurry. Imagine that the Prince of Peace wants us to share in his peace. Imagine that the God of joy would have us share in that joy and find it our strength. Alan Fadling helps us to not only imagine these things but invites us to join him on the journey toward a non-anxious life.

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

Review: An Invitation to Joy

An Invitation to Joy, Daniel J. Denk, foreword by Christopher J.H. Wright. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2023.

Summary: Reflections on the source of joy and how we may rediscover it.

They had been playing hide and seek in the lower level of our home. After a time, our son came upstairs. He was alone. We asked “where’s Mr. Denk?” He answered, “he’s still hiding.”

The author of this book was at one time my supervisor in collegiate ministry. From playing hide and seek with my son to leading our team in a Blues Brothers act for national leaders in our organization, wherever Dan Denk went joyous adventure followed. It was not surprising to me to learn of his publication of this book of reflections on joy. Reading the pages, I heard his voice and recalled many joyous memories of times in his home, at a summer cottage on Lake Michigan where our regional team went on many summers and working together to invite students into the joy of following Jesus.

The book, though filled with good theology, is not a theological study on joy so much as a series of reflections on joy drawn from Denk’s life and ministry experiences and wide reading. He begins the work by noting both that we were made for joy and yet are in an increasingly joyless society. He offers this definition of his subject:

Feelings tend to be fleeting. They are fickle. Joy, on the contrary, is a steady disposition about life, very much connected to peace and hope. We might say that joy is a hopeful and peaceful outlook on life, a deep-seated sense of well-being.

Denk contends that we do not find joy by straining to achieve it but rather that it is the by-product of something else. He reminds us of the story of C.S. Lewis and his quest for joy, his reluctant conversion, and his discovery that in the transcendent kingdom of God, he discovers the world he had longed for. He believes that discovering this joy is an urgent matter for Christians: God promises joy, it is a joy the world desperately needs, and for which the world is worrisomely losing its capacity.

In succeeding chapters Denk sets forth the invitation to joy we find both in the world and the word of Scripture. He surveys the scriptures that talk about joy, offering a more extensive definition of that joy. He focuses in on Jesus as both a joyous person and joy-giver. He explores the paradox that finding joy comes in being found, describing his own spiritual journey. One chapter speaks of recovering childlike joy and the ability to play (perhaps that explains the hide and seek game at my house!). He considers both the friends and enemies of joy–friends like sabbath, gratitude, and surprisingly, repentance; and enemies like despair and sloth, fear and worry, and legalism. He sensitively explores the challenge and opportunity suffering poses for the life of joy, considering the example of Joni Eareckson. He shows how pursuing service out of faithfulness to Christ brings great joy, as does our worship.

As he draws the book to a close, he discusses the world’s desperate need for joy amidst a crisis of meaning and the fullness of life and joy offered in the gospel to every person. He writes, “This disenchanted world we live in still longs for enchantment, something more than the meaningless life of selfish, self-reliant individuals just looking out for themselves; something more than a materialist view of the universe.” Quoting sources from Rowan Williams to C.S. Lewis, Gerard Manley Hopkins to Peter Berger, he points us to “a world charged with the grandeur of God” in the words of Hopkins. This leads to a concluding chapter on our ultimate destiny in the new heaven and earth, the fulfillment of all that we have known only in part in this life.

This is a beautifully written book, not in the sense of “precious little thoughts” about joy but of deep substance, written amid his wife’s struggle with cancer, one ending in her passing into glory shortly before publication of the book. The joy of which he writes is indeed a “steady disposition about life.” His blog, Practicing the Presence of Joy, recounts his journey of learning what it means to grieve and yet live with joy. Reflection questions at the end of each chapter of the book invite us to internalize the lessons of joy we find on the pages of this book. I found invitations to joy on every page and I believe you will as well.

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

Review: Necessary Christianity

Necessary Christianity, Claude R. Alexander, Jr. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2022.

Summary: In a culture of options, focuses on the necessities of the Christian life by looking at the “must” statements in the gospel associated with Jesus.

Bishop Claude R. Alexander, Jr. makes a trenchant contrast between our culture and a vibrant Christianity. We like to think about our options, our possibilities. Alexander contends that the mature follower of Jesus is shaped by the necessities of undivided loyalty to Jesus. Alexander organizes his book around the “must” passages associated with Jesus, six in number that lead to six “musts” for the maturing disciple of Jesus:

1. I Must Focus. (Luke 2:40-52) “I must be about my Father’s business.” Jesus was intentionally focused on his mission and his relationship with his father from the age of twelve. He pursued his calling as one who would teach about the Father’s way even as a young man, declaring implicitly that carpentry would not be his life.

2. I Must Progress. (Luke 4:38-44) “I must preach the kingdom of God to the other cities also…” Life with Christ is dynamic. It is life lived on assignment, no matter the context.

3. I Must Be Directed. (John 4:1-30) “He needed to go through Samaria.” Jews ordinarily avoided Samaria. Jesus needed to go through Samaria because God directed him to do so to encounter the Samaritan woman, and through her to see a town believe. We learn that we may be directed to those others shun and called into things others don’t understand.

4. I Must Be Clear. (Matthew 16:13-27) “…Jesus began to show to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised the third day.” The maturing disciple is clear that following Christ may entail suffering and that God’s purposes may be unpopular and will face opposition. The disciple also embraces the whole plan and purpose of God, not only suffering and death but also resurrection and glory and is not deceived by the enemy.

5. I Must Be Diligent. (John 9:1-5) “I must work the works of Him who sent Me while it is day.” Jesus discerns the moment and meaning of his encounter with the man born blind. He acts with urgency, realizing it will not always be day, maximizing every moment. He challenges us to live in this way. Even on the cross, Jesus forgives and promises paradise to the thief, arranges for the care of his mother, quenches his own thirst with God’s word, takes on himself the judgement of God against sin, and accomplishes our redemption, and can declare “It is finished.”

6. I Must Yield. (Matthew 26:46-54) “Don’t you realize that I could ask my Father for thousands of angels to protect us, and he would send them instantly? But if I did, how would the Scriptures be fulfilled that describe what must happen now?” Jesus refuses to avoid God’s purpose for his life, even when able, he has exercised patience from age 12 to his death, knowing all that time this was God’s purpose. Jesus took God’s way as his and accepted that only he could walk it–others would flee. The assurance is that God will stand by us. He raises the Son and he will raise us up as well.

Alexander has this way of writing in simple declarative sentences that convey the sense that “this is just the way it is for those who set themselves to follow Jesus.” There is neither bombast nor subtle nuancing. It’s simply, “this is what Jesus knew were the “musts” in his life, and so they are for us. We often “complexify” our lives and use that to evade the call of Jesus. This book strips discipleship down to the necessities. And therein is life.

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

The Freedom of the Christian

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I hear a lot of talk about freedom in our current pandemic situation where people do not want to accept mandates to wear masks or be vaccinated to hold a job or participate in a function. I don’t want to discuss that for the moment because I believe this reflects a different understanding of freedom than how I understand freedom as a Christian. When we discuss things from different premises, we often end up talking past each other–no wonder we disagree.

As a Christian, I understand freedom as freedom from and freedom to. Fundamentally the uses of freedom from in the Bible are either freedom from human bondage or freedom from sin. In the Old Testament, the outstanding case was the liberation of the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt. Exodus 20:2, the prologue to the Ten Commandments says “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” (NIV). Even here, we see they are freed from Egyptian bondage for a relationship with God.

The other form of bondage is that to sin. The singular “sin” refers to the fundamental approach that says to God, “not thy will but mine.” Bondage to sin means a life of running from God, living under the tyranny of self, broken relationships with others, and the abuse of creation, fouling our own nest as it were. In one of the most famous passages, often misappropriated, Jesus said:

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

They answered him, “We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?”

Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, everyone who sins is a slave to sin. Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. (John 8:32-36, NIV)

Jesus says elsewhere that the truth that sets free is “to believe in the one he has sent” (John 6:29) or in the immediate context, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples” (John 8:31). Jesus says real freedom comes in believing and obeying him.

That brings me to the freedom for. Real freedom is to be freed for right relationships: with God, with ourselves, with each other, and with the creation. Instead of rebelling against and running from God, we love God and believe that our highest joy is found in “knowing and glorifying God forever.” Instead of seeing ourselves at the center of the universe, we find that our greatest dignity is living as beings who reflect the character of the God who is. It is a great relief to realize that God is God and we are not. When I realize I’m not the center of the universe, I can get along better with others. When we accept that we are creatures entrusted with the care of a creation that belongs to the God who made us, we cherish what he made and seek its flourishing. We gain freedom from poisonous water, polluted air, unhealthy food, and, hopefully, a climate out of control. And other creatures of God gain their lives.

Paul’s letter to the Galatians may be called the manifesto of Christian freedom. Here is what he says our freedom is for:

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.

Paul says that our freedom in the society of people comes not in seeking our personal wants but rather seeking for our neighbor what we want for ourselves. He observes that self-seeking at the expense of others is an exercise in mutual destruction. It deeply troubles me that people cloak this disregard of neighbor in an assertion of personal freedom against “tyranny.” Paul wrote these words under the tyranny of Rome that would one day take his life. The use of “tyranny” in our context is an insult to the sacrifice of martyrs to real tyranny around the world.

As I think about our present moment, freedom means freely choosing to do all I can to protect others from being infected by COVID. Masks block the spread of the virus to others. The vaccine can sometimes prevent infection, or if not, make me less infectious to others. No one has to require these of me. If they prevent my neighbor from getting sick, even if I do, that is love for my neighbor.

These verses challenge me in my response to those who differ. My temptation is to belittle their decisions, which I believe endanger themselves and others. I think my belief warranted, but my belittlement or angry reactions are also indulgences of the flesh and a form of biting and devouring. Where I have done this, I am in the wrong.

But I do want to question my Christian brothers and sisters who refuse to wear masks or receive vaccinations, despite their safety, for reasons of personal freedom, to explain how this freedom takes precedence over the love of neighbor and the humble service of others. I would love to know how you believe this is both love of God and neighbor for which you have been freed in Christ. I honestly would like to understand how an assertion of personal freedom that puts at risk the freedom, health, and possibly life of another is consistent with freedom in Christ. In our present situation, I am deeply concerned that this especially puts the children Jesus loves, and those with other illnesses, at greater risk.

My discussion is not with those who do not share my faith commitments but with those who say they do, who say they follow Christ. It seems to me that you are embracing a worldly rather than Christian definition of freedom. My concern is that when we embrace the worldly, we move away from right relationship with God, ourselves, our neighbors, and the world. Instead of freedom, we return to an embrace of bondage. That is even more deadly than COVID. I dare to raise these concerns not merely out of concern about a disease, but out of concern that you renounce the freedom that is in Christ for a poor substitute.