Review: The Last Supper

Cover image of "The Last Supper" by Paul Elie

The Last Supper

The Last Supper: Art, Faith, Sex, and Controversy in the 1980s, Paul Elie. Farrar, Straus and Giroux (ISBN: 9780374272920) 2025.

Summary: On controversial artists of the 1980’s, discussing the intersection of sexuality and spirituality in crypto-religious works.

The title of this book refers to the final work of Andy Warhol, one of the major figures chronicled in this cultural history of the 1980’s. But it also signifies the kind of book this is. Warhol’s “The Last Supper” is a series (totally about 100 works) of Warhol’s renderings of da Vinci’s work under the same title. Warhol, like many of the artistic figures on the pages of this book, is followed from his Catholic beginnings in Pittsburgh until his death in 1987.

Paul Elie traces the religiosity of Warhol, who after a near-death experience, attended Mass weekly. Furthermore, he explores what he calls the “crypto-religious” element in his art, most apparent in this final body of work. By “crypto-religious” he means hidden or unconventionally used religious symbols or references, sometimes offering an unconventional take on religion. Not only that, Elie portrays him as a “controvert,” one at odds with oneself on matters of belief. He explores Warhol’s closeted homosexuality and his efforts to reconcile his identity with the church’s stance on his sexuality

These themes run through the more or less chronological history of many of the controversial artists of the 1980’s. He opens the book with Bob Dylan’s “Christian” phase marked by the release of Slow Train Coming with it hit song, “Serve Someone.” He then follows the fan response and Dylan’s continued musical evolution and intersection with other artists through the 1980’s.

What follows is an exploration of the lives and work of artists in various media and the controversy their lives and work arouse. Much of this centers around a sense of alienation and yet longing for faith. It often reflects disillusionment with formal religious structures. The crypto-religious elements express both resistance, sometimes to the point of transgression and yet spiritual longing. Sinead O’Connor tears up a photograph of the Pope as she performs on SNL. Madonna dresses seductively and yet sings “Like a Prayer.” Leonard Cohen has many lovers but also writes “Hallelujah.”

Then in film, Martin Scorsese devotes fifteen years to the religiously motivated filming of Nikos Kazantzakis’ The Last Temptation of Christ. The book and movie arouse controversy because of the “alternate life vision” Jesus has on the cross of marriage to Mary Magdalene. Scorsese felt the work explored the deep humanness of Jesus in contrast to so many film portrayals of Jesus. But the critics thought it blasphemy.

Elie also considers writers including poet Czeslaw Milosz, Toni Morrison and James Baldwin, and even Salman Rushdie. The latter’s human portrayal of the prophet in The Satanic Verses resulted in a fatwa, which remains to this day. Rushdie, like other artists, represents those resisting a religion, that in its behavior contrasts with its highest ideals.

For many of the artists in this book who were raised Catholic, they wrestled with the contradictions in the Church’s response, first to homosexuality, and then to the rampant AIDS epidemic that burned through New York and San Francisco in the mid to late 1980’s. We see the contrast between figures like Daniel Berrigan, comforting the dying, and Cardinal O’Connor. Meanwhile, the first revelations of sexual abuse by priests and the coverups are coming out.

One of the more troubling aspects of the “controvert” character of some of the artists is the celebration of “transgressive sexuality.” For instance, we might consider some of the graphic photographic portrayals in Mapplethorpe’s X Portfolio. Is the response to hypocrisy, repressiveness or flawed understandings of the body to throw off all norms and boundaries? Are we to normalize whatever one would do with one’s body (perhaps with the proviso of “consent”)?

What these artists do reveal is the complexity involved in our sexuality and spirituality. Often, we refer to the “mash-up” of different religions as religious syncretism. I wonder if there is a kind of “sexual-spiritual syncretism” of those who identify as spiritual, or even with a given religion, yet pursue sexual practices at variance with the norms of that religion? It seems that at least some of the portrayals in Elie’s book fall into this category.

Paul Elie not only offers a fascinating cultural narrative of the 1980’s, a walk down memory lane for some. He also raises interesting questions about the controversial artists of this period. His exploration of “crypto-religiosity” challenges us to listen more closely to those we might too quickly dismiss. And he shows how artists of the 1980’s, aware of both bodily and spiritual longings, did not bracket these off from each other. It challenges religious thinkers and teachers to join artists and culture critics wrestling with the realities of our embodied lives.

Review: Paul, Apostle of Grace

Cover image of "Paul, Apostle of Grace" by Frank Thielman

Paul, Apostle of Grace, Frank Thielman. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. (ISBN: 9780802876294) 2025.

Summary: An introduction to the life and world of Paul based on Acts, his letters, and other sources including archaeology.

The sheer number of books on Paul, discussing aspects of his life and theology, attest to his continuing importance to our understanding of the early Christian movement. But often, these discussions focus on a particular book or theological theme. In addition, many of these discussions reflect the narrower scholarly consensus regarding the Pauline corpus. Many relegate Acts to secondary status.

Frank Thielman has written an overview to Paul’s life and world that sets his travels, mission, and writings in a wider historical and cultural context. Unlike some works, Thielman bases his account on all thirteen canonical letters of Paul as well as Acts. He also draws upon non-canonical sources and archaeology to round out this chronological account of Paul’s life, mission, trials, and death.

Beginning with Paul prior to the Damascus road, Thielman traces his travels and the context of each city and region in which he worked. He notes the theologically formative aspects of his training, his early meeting with Peter, and the developing vision of God’s grace for Jew and Gentile alike, formed at Syrian Antioch and elaborated throughout his ministry.

For example, Thielman develops the Jewish opposition Paul encountered in Syrian Antioch, Asia Minor, and Achaia over the inclusion of Gentiles without circumcision. For Paul, their inclusion, and table fellowship as one new people was essential in testifying to the grace of God in Christ. Likewise, Gentile solidarity with the Jerusalem church drove Paul’s collection.

Also, Thielman helps us understand the role and movements of Paul’s companions, notably Prisca and Aquila, Silas, and Timothy. And he fits the composition of each of the letters into Paul’s travels, and later, his imprisonment. He discusses the concerns occasioning each letter, how Paul responds, and how the letters may have been carried to their recipients.

Thielman argues for the reliability of Acts as a source and Luke as a historian and creates a chronology drawing both on letters and Acts. He does take positions on the chronology of Paul’s life that he describes as “outliers.” He equates the Jerusalem conference of Acts 15 with that described in Galatians 2. Thielman argues for Galatians as the earliest of Paul’s letters and affirms a southern hypothesis. He also argues for 1 Timothy, Titus, and 2 Timothy being written within the time covered by Acts. Thus, he argues that Paul was not released from his imprisonment and later re-imprisoned.

Thielman defends his reliance upon Acts and all thirteen canonical letters in his first appendix. And he discusses the imprisonment and the timing and manner of Paul’s death in appendices two and three.

The strength of Thielman’s work is that it reflects a scholarly account that reflects conservative convictions. He accepts the full Pauline corpus and the reliability of Acts. More than that, his account sets Paul’s ministry amid Jewish opposition, imperial concerns, and religious and commercial culture.

Thielman admits at the outset:

“Writing a book about Paul’s life is like putting together a puzzle of a thousand pieces, but a puzzle whose pieces can fit together in different ways. The best one can hope for, perhaps, is a picture that is reasonable and that, at least in some cases, is probable.”

On one hand, Thielman succeeds admirably in putting all the pieces together. However, this book is touted as a successor to F. F. Bruce’s Paul: The Apostle of the Heart Set Free. As a cohesive reckoning of all the details in a theologically conservative account, that certainly is the case. Thielman incorporates scholarship to which Bruce did not have access. But, in comparison to Bruce, this account seemed too concerned with all the puzzle pieces. While Thielman gets the theology of grace right, I felt the book lacked the overarching vision of grace’s liberating power for Paul and his ministry that I found in Bruce.

Nevertheless, this book is a great resource to read alongside Acts and the letters of Paul. It offers the “big picture” of Paul’s life. We see Paul’s ministry and his letters in context rather than just as disparate biblical passages. Thielman lays a good foundation for anyone pursuing further studies of Paul, the apostle of grace.

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

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Review: The Social Life of Books

The Social Life of Books: Reading Together in the Eighteenth-Century Home, Abigail Williams. Yale University Press (ISBN: 9780300240252), 2018.

Summary: A study of reading together in the eighteenth-century home, looking at how books were used and contributed to social life.

In modern life, reading is by and large a silent and solitary activity. We may gather for an author reading or a bookclub. But most of our reading, even via audiobooks is a solitary activity. The big idea in this book was that reading was a social activity, in family and social gatherings in the home. It provided evening entertainment in the home as well as sustaining spiritual life through the reading of sermons and devotional works. Friends gathered to read plays or enjoy poetry. And with the advent of the novel, reading together served to head off the fears of the fantasy life that might be indulged in private reading.

Abigail Williams offers a study at once both scholarly and a fascinating read for anyone interested in reading practices. She draws on elocution manuals, marginalia, library catalogues and subscription lists, letters and diaries, to construct for us the eighteenth century practices for reading, particularly in England. And one of the first things plainly evident is that reading often meant reading aloud. This explains the importance of elocution manuals. She details how people learned to read aloud to convey the cadences, the content, and the feeling of a work, holding the listener’s attention.

She explores the spaces in which reading occurred, primarily around the setting of the home. Within the home, she traces the rise of the library and the furnishings that would go into one. But reading also occurred in taverns, coffeehouses and other settings. She also goes into matters as diverse as lighting, font sizes, and reading habits, which often show a great deal of skipping around.

How did people access books? This varied by class. Full-length books were often too expensive for many in the working classes. Chapbooks and pamphlets and serialized books helped with this. And then there was borrowing, whether from an employer, or a circulating library. People exchanged books, making them available to more than one household. People also created their own “commonplace” books, whether by writing out a poem, or clipping one from a newspaper.

Williams chronicles the rise of the novel. This brought questions of the appropriateness of private novel reading? In addition to saving people from the dangers of private reading, public readings could “edit” out more titillating or otherwise objectionable material. Novels also offered the chance to imagine other lives.

Finally, Williams considers religious reading. Sermons underwent a shift from more extemporaneous to more structured and elaborated as they were written and published. Elocution was vital both in the pulpit and the home, to hold attention. People read together for self-improvement. It could be the Bible, works of devotion, history and science. Williams acquaints us with the most popular books of the time.

The book includes an abundance of illustrations of paintings of different readers and settings, reproduction of various forms of books including commonplace books and diaries and letters. Williams breaks the stereotype of reading as anti-social, at least in the eighteenth century. The book also gestures at the opportunity for books to be shared entertainment in our day. She introduces us to what may be a lost art, except among actors, of elocution. And it made me wonder what future cultural historians might write about books and reading in our time.