I've been asked what I think about Christian novels that have plots that appear to have very little to do with Christian journeys, but have Christian characters, versus plots that are centred completely around a Christian journey. Essentially, what level of 'Christian content' makes a good Christian novel?
I don't know that there's an answer to that.
Francine Rivers sums it up the difference concisely:
"A Christian who writes may weave Christian principles into the story, but the work can stand when those elements are removed. A Christian writer is called to present a story that is all about Jesus. The Lord is the foundation, the structure, and Scripture has everything to do with the creation and development of the characters in the story. Jesus is central to the theme. If you remove Jesus and Biblical principles from the novel, it collapses."
Both types of novels exist in the Christian fiction industry, both in film and print. I believe that there are many stories that need to be told, whether they are of Rivers's first variety, that they have a bit of a Christian bent, or whether they are of the second, that are, in essence a Christian journey. One is not more worthy than the other, for there are many stories out there to be told, whether they are spiritual/evangelical in nature or not.
However, I wonder at the idea of simply tossing in a Christian bent simply to justify to oneself that one is a 'Chrisitan' writer. There is no shame in being a Christian who writes. There is no shame in writing fiction that does not have a Christian bent. It is, however, decietful to simply throw in a Christian bent in order to sell it to the Christian market. There is a line of Christian romance novels that, more often than not, dances with 'how much can we have our characters compromise God's set-out way of living and still call our novels Christian?' or 'how little Christian content can we get away with, so we can focus on the romance and action angles of the plot?' Not every novel in the line is like that, but too many are. I want to tell those writers to just write for a secular romance line, because that's what they obviously want to do, but are afraid of doing it for danger of being considered 'unChristian'.
So it comes down to this: should novels that are not primarily a journey of faith, but have Christian characters who do Christian things be considered Christian novels? Well, why not? Christian people do Christian things, but there are aspects of their lives that are affected, but not overshadowed or ruled by these things. Does that mean those stories are not worth telling? It would be nice if the publishers could categorize the books for us... actual evangelical, spiritual-journey stories that would collapse without the spiritual elements, versus stories about people who happen to be Christian, but could just as easily be athiests or Unitarians, and still have the same experiences. However, I can't see that happening.
I respect people like Rivers, whose stories are ALWAYS spiritual in nature, in spite of how much action (and BOY does she have action) run through them. There should be a special publisher for writers of her calibre.
On the other hand, if Karen Kingsbury wants to write about her characters living their lives and doing a few Christian things on the side, what right do we have to stop her? She tells stories, too. People buy them for entertainment, not spiritual lessons.
And those of you who know me - if/when I do publish in the evangelical market, if you can take the spiritual elements out of my book and it still stands, burn it. And I intend to publish in the secular industry as well, and will do that proudly. I have other stories to tell.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Ten Thousand Charms - Allison Pittman
New author Allison Pittman has certainly started off with a bang. Not only has she tackled, in her debut novel, one of the more touchy subjects in Christian literature (prostitution), but she's managed to acquire a series deal. Ten Thousand Charms is the first of three novels, entitled the Crossroads of Grace trilogy. Speak Through the Wind and With Endless Sight are also available.
The premise is great. Gloria, a 19th-century prostitute in the Western United States becomes pregnant, is unable to get rid of the child, and meets widower John William who needs her wet-nursing abilities so that his infant daughter does not starve. With the two children, Gloria and John William head west to Oregon, and eventually reconcile their pasts and fall in love.
The details are rich and varied, the dialogue believable, and the description not overdone, but enough to give the reader an understanding of the scene at hand. I can feel the mist-shrouded oregon mountains, the heat of the sunshine in a meadow, the pain of Gloria's tangled hair. Pittman tends to use the same descriptive words over and over, but they are effective.
However, there are a few issues with this book. First, and most painful, is the pacing. Actions happen by rote, one turn after another, but it's so doggedly wooden that it leaves no room for suprises. There's something to be said for steadiness, but there are some points in a story that should move quickly while others are better off being better examined. The ending is rushed, as though Pittman ran out of time or word count. A few more chapters would have been welcomed. I didn't feel that the love story rang true... it seemed more about John William's lust for Gloria than his love. I know there are some that argue the two are one and the same, but in a Christian novel, this should not be. The worst flaw in this text is the 'twist' tragedy at the end that is hardly examined, hardly explored, and given only token attention by the characters. I won't reveal said twist for sake of spoiler, but suffice to say that it just wasn't done well. I was incredibly disappointed.
Like Lori Wick, Pittman starts off with a great premise, then simply fails to deliver. But this is her first novel, so allowances must be made. Hopefully she's learned enough from this to make better the others in the series.
Recommended, but with reservations.
PS - sorry about the delay in posting. Life got in the way, but I'm back at it and ready for more.
The premise is great. Gloria, a 19th-century prostitute in the Western United States becomes pregnant, is unable to get rid of the child, and meets widower John William who needs her wet-nursing abilities so that his infant daughter does not starve. With the two children, Gloria and John William head west to Oregon, and eventually reconcile their pasts and fall in love.
The details are rich and varied, the dialogue believable, and the description not overdone, but enough to give the reader an understanding of the scene at hand. I can feel the mist-shrouded oregon mountains, the heat of the sunshine in a meadow, the pain of Gloria's tangled hair. Pittman tends to use the same descriptive words over and over, but they are effective.
However, there are a few issues with this book. First, and most painful, is the pacing. Actions happen by rote, one turn after another, but it's so doggedly wooden that it leaves no room for suprises. There's something to be said for steadiness, but there are some points in a story that should move quickly while others are better off being better examined. The ending is rushed, as though Pittman ran out of time or word count. A few more chapters would have been welcomed. I didn't feel that the love story rang true... it seemed more about John William's lust for Gloria than his love. I know there are some that argue the two are one and the same, but in a Christian novel, this should not be. The worst flaw in this text is the 'twist' tragedy at the end that is hardly examined, hardly explored, and given only token attention by the characters. I won't reveal said twist for sake of spoiler, but suffice to say that it just wasn't done well. I was incredibly disappointed.
Like Lori Wick, Pittman starts off with a great premise, then simply fails to deliver. But this is her first novel, so allowances must be made. Hopefully she's learned enough from this to make better the others in the series.
Recommended, but with reservations.
PS - sorry about the delay in posting. Life got in the way, but I'm back at it and ready for more.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
The Jewel of Gresham Green - Lawana Blackwell
Finally, the long-awaited Jewel of Gresham Green! I, and many other readers, was painfully reluctant to leave Gresham after the Dowry of Miss Lydia Clark, simply because there were so many stories left to tell. Blackwell has created literary gold in Gresham - it's just such a wonderfully believable place with such fascinating characters, nobody wants to leave!
Picking up over ten years after Dowry left off, this novel begins, as the first one did, in London, with a widow who fears for the future of her children. This time it's Jewel Libby, a factory worker who is frightened of a local thug who shows an inappropriate interest in her young daughter. Kindhearted Noelle Sommerville, now a respectable vicar's wife, sends Jewel and little Becky to Gresham, to be helped by the Phelps family.
Julia Hollis and Andrew Phelps have raised their children. Elizabeth, Laurel and Grace are happily married. Phillip is a prominent London surgeon, but unhappily married to a woman who does not love him, and openly dislikes his family. Independent Aleda has sequestered herself in a cottage in the woods, determined to advance her writing career.
Though she's come for assistance, Jewel turns the tables and ends up assisting others, including the Phelps family and the ailing, grieving Squire Bartley, who has not been the same since the death of his beloved wife. She even attracts the attention of an unlikely suitor.
Gresham, however, is in trouble. The squire's illness puts the whole town in jeopardy. Donald Gibbs, the selfish, cruel nephew who is his sole beneficiary has plans that could leave Gresham in ruins. Andrew's health worsens, and Phillip must come home to help, but that puts even more of a strain on his already-troubled marriage.
In spite of the happy title, The Jewel of Gresham Green is a darker novel than its predecessors. Within the first few pages, a paedophile is introduced. Though adultery is referenced in the other texts, it's dealt with more thoroughly here, as a character tempted by that issue is dealt with in a sympathetic manner. There are also references to something rarely discussed in any Victorian literature I've ever read - homosexuality. It's presented with impressive delicacy - the exploits of Donald Gibbs are never overtly described, and his partner is never referred to by gender, or a specifically masculine or feminine name. Though there appears to have been an incident of homosexual violence, it's also woven subtly through the plot. I doubt some more innocent readers will catch on at all, which was likely Blackwell's intent.
I like the darkness. Gresham is less innocent than it once was, but such is the nature of life, and Blackwell never fails to show the joyous side of things, as well as the not-so-joyous. The part I liked the least about this whole novel was the fact that it's a finale. Though I've read no interviews to the effect, this novel makes it very obvious that this is the last time she'll be taking us back to Gresham. Nonetheless, Gresham is left in a satisfying place. The story is complete.
Highly Recommended.
Picking up over ten years after Dowry left off, this novel begins, as the first one did, in London, with a widow who fears for the future of her children. This time it's Jewel Libby, a factory worker who is frightened of a local thug who shows an inappropriate interest in her young daughter. Kindhearted Noelle Sommerville, now a respectable vicar's wife, sends Jewel and little Becky to Gresham, to be helped by the Phelps family.
Julia Hollis and Andrew Phelps have raised their children. Elizabeth, Laurel and Grace are happily married. Phillip is a prominent London surgeon, but unhappily married to a woman who does not love him, and openly dislikes his family. Independent Aleda has sequestered herself in a cottage in the woods, determined to advance her writing career.
Though she's come for assistance, Jewel turns the tables and ends up assisting others, including the Phelps family and the ailing, grieving Squire Bartley, who has not been the same since the death of his beloved wife. She even attracts the attention of an unlikely suitor.
Gresham, however, is in trouble. The squire's illness puts the whole town in jeopardy. Donald Gibbs, the selfish, cruel nephew who is his sole beneficiary has plans that could leave Gresham in ruins. Andrew's health worsens, and Phillip must come home to help, but that puts even more of a strain on his already-troubled marriage.
In spite of the happy title, The Jewel of Gresham Green is a darker novel than its predecessors. Within the first few pages, a paedophile is introduced. Though adultery is referenced in the other texts, it's dealt with more thoroughly here, as a character tempted by that issue is dealt with in a sympathetic manner. There are also references to something rarely discussed in any Victorian literature I've ever read - homosexuality. It's presented with impressive delicacy - the exploits of Donald Gibbs are never overtly described, and his partner is never referred to by gender, or a specifically masculine or feminine name. Though there appears to have been an incident of homosexual violence, it's also woven subtly through the plot. I doubt some more innocent readers will catch on at all, which was likely Blackwell's intent.
I like the darkness. Gresham is less innocent than it once was, but such is the nature of life, and Blackwell never fails to show the joyous side of things, as well as the not-so-joyous. The part I liked the least about this whole novel was the fact that it's a finale. Though I've read no interviews to the effect, this novel makes it very obvious that this is the last time she'll be taking us back to Gresham. Nonetheless, Gresham is left in a satisfying place. The story is complete.
Highly Recommended.
The Dowry of Miss Lydia Clark - Lawana Blackwell
The third in the Gresham Chronicles, The Dowry of Miss Lydia Clark brings back a host of the previous Gresham characters, as well as a few surprising new ones. Picking up sixteen months after The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter ends, Dowry continues the story of Julia Hollis and Vicar Andrew Phelps, now happily married. This time, the family takes a backseat in the narrative, as other characters are brought to the forefront.
Shy, awkward Jacob Pitney is content in his career as an archaeologist, but far less so with his personal life. His attempts to court Eugenia Rawlins, a local romance author are continually fraught with problems, as this woman, so absorbed in the wild, melodramatic world of her characters, fails to see his true worth. To help him woo Miss Rawlins, Jacob seeks the help of Miss Lydia Clark, the local schoolteacher, who has troubles of her own.
After thirty-four years a spinster, Lydia Clark has given up on the idea of finding a mate. Suddenly, two different men are paying her attention - Ezra Towley, a boorish farmer, and Harold Sanders, a local n'er-do-well, both of whom are far more interested in her dowry than her heart. When she begins to develop feelings for Jacob Pitney, life becomes even more complicated, as he's enlisted her to help him court someone else.
Harold Sanders is determined to escape the misery of his father's farm, and sees Lydia Clark's dowry as an easy way out. However, in his attempts to win her, he changes in ways he does not expect, and embarks upon a future he'd never imagined.
Noelle Sommerville is sent to Gresham to be hidden by her lover, so that his wife will not find out about her existence. Alone and frightened of losing her one source of security, she embarks on a series of lies and manipulations, only to be confronted with an unexpected chance for redemption.
This many plotlines could make for a confusing read, but Blackwell is so incredibly skilled at weaving her stories together that it's really quite comfortable to follow. More than the others, Dowry shows a real evolution in the hearts and minds of some of the characters, particularly Noelle Sommerville and Harold Sanders. It's subtle, it's consistent, and you can easily believe that it is God's work changing these people, rather than the author's will. Highly Recommended.
Shy, awkward Jacob Pitney is content in his career as an archaeologist, but far less so with his personal life. His attempts to court Eugenia Rawlins, a local romance author are continually fraught with problems, as this woman, so absorbed in the wild, melodramatic world of her characters, fails to see his true worth. To help him woo Miss Rawlins, Jacob seeks the help of Miss Lydia Clark, the local schoolteacher, who has troubles of her own.
After thirty-four years a spinster, Lydia Clark has given up on the idea of finding a mate. Suddenly, two different men are paying her attention - Ezra Towley, a boorish farmer, and Harold Sanders, a local n'er-do-well, both of whom are far more interested in her dowry than her heart. When she begins to develop feelings for Jacob Pitney, life becomes even more complicated, as he's enlisted her to help him court someone else.
Harold Sanders is determined to escape the misery of his father's farm, and sees Lydia Clark's dowry as an easy way out. However, in his attempts to win her, he changes in ways he does not expect, and embarks upon a future he'd never imagined.
Noelle Sommerville is sent to Gresham to be hidden by her lover, so that his wife will not find out about her existence. Alone and frightened of losing her one source of security, she embarks on a series of lies and manipulations, only to be confronted with an unexpected chance for redemption.
This many plotlines could make for a confusing read, but Blackwell is so incredibly skilled at weaving her stories together that it's really quite comfortable to follow. More than the others, Dowry shows a real evolution in the hearts and minds of some of the characters, particularly Noelle Sommerville and Harold Sanders. It's subtle, it's consistent, and you can easily believe that it is God's work changing these people, rather than the author's will. Highly Recommended.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter - Lawana Blackwell
Victorian fiction written by a modern hand tends to go one of two ways. When it's good, it's very, very good, and when it's bad, it's VERY, VERY bad. Lawana Blackwell falls on the good side. The follow-up novel to The Widow of Larkspur Inn, The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter picks up just weeks after the first book ends.
Newly engaged couple Julia Hollis and Vicar Andrew Phelps are busy planning their wedding, and dealing with the increasing demands of their rapidly-growing children. Andrew's daughter Elizabeth, whose heart was broken by a young rogue in Cambridge just months earlier, is slowly healing from the hurt and preparing to become engaged to another, more respectable man. Julia's eldest son Philip is on his way to boarding school.
Just as life seems settled, Jonathan Raleigh, the rogue from Cambridge, arrives in Gresham, a redeemed and reformed man, determined to win back Elizabeth's heart. He takes a job teaching the boisterous grammar school, a position to which he is ill-qualified, but it allows him to remain in Gresham. Both Andrew and Elizabeth must come to terms with their own anger, hurt, and unforgiveness. Julia, on the other hand, struggles to let go of her eldest son, whose infrequent letters from boarding school do not tell the truth of the cruelty he is experiencing there.
In the meantime, the community of Gresham is no less active than the Phelps and Hollis families. Seth Langford, recently acquitted and released from prison, arrives in Gresham with his impulsively adopted son Thomas, desiring nothing more than a quiet place to make a life for himself and Thomas. He's unfortunately chosen a home next to the town n'er-do-wells, the Sanders family. He's determined to avoild them, until Mercy Sanders falls in love with him, but must embark on an unusual and complicated plot to win his heart.
Where The Widow of Larkspur Inn focused on trusting the Lord for His care, The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter focuses on forgiveness. Andrew and Elizabeth must forgive Jonathan. Jonathan must come to understand what it means to be forgiven. Seth Langford must forgive those who wronged him, and learn to trust the people God has placed in his path. Even Philip, who is young, is faced with a moment of forgiveness versus satisfaction.
The citizens of Gresham are every bit as colourful and delightful as they were in the first novel, and well worth visiting from time to time. For a lover of Victorian-era stories, this is highly recommended.
Newly engaged couple Julia Hollis and Vicar Andrew Phelps are busy planning their wedding, and dealing with the increasing demands of their rapidly-growing children. Andrew's daughter Elizabeth, whose heart was broken by a young rogue in Cambridge just months earlier, is slowly healing from the hurt and preparing to become engaged to another, more respectable man. Julia's eldest son Philip is on his way to boarding school.
Just as life seems settled, Jonathan Raleigh, the rogue from Cambridge, arrives in Gresham, a redeemed and reformed man, determined to win back Elizabeth's heart. He takes a job teaching the boisterous grammar school, a position to which he is ill-qualified, but it allows him to remain in Gresham. Both Andrew and Elizabeth must come to terms with their own anger, hurt, and unforgiveness. Julia, on the other hand, struggles to let go of her eldest son, whose infrequent letters from boarding school do not tell the truth of the cruelty he is experiencing there.
In the meantime, the community of Gresham is no less active than the Phelps and Hollis families. Seth Langford, recently acquitted and released from prison, arrives in Gresham with his impulsively adopted son Thomas, desiring nothing more than a quiet place to make a life for himself and Thomas. He's unfortunately chosen a home next to the town n'er-do-wells, the Sanders family. He's determined to avoild them, until Mercy Sanders falls in love with him, but must embark on an unusual and complicated plot to win his heart.
Where The Widow of Larkspur Inn focused on trusting the Lord for His care, The Courtship of the Vicar's Daughter focuses on forgiveness. Andrew and Elizabeth must forgive Jonathan. Jonathan must come to understand what it means to be forgiven. Seth Langford must forgive those who wronged him, and learn to trust the people God has placed in his path. Even Philip, who is young, is faced with a moment of forgiveness versus satisfaction.
The citizens of Gresham are every bit as colourful and delightful as they were in the first novel, and well worth visiting from time to time. For a lover of Victorian-era stories, this is highly recommended.
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Least of These My Brothers - Harold Bell Wright
I like turn-of-the-century Christian fiction. In the contemporary market of the time, moral ambiguity was the defining feature of literature, but Christian literature was razor-sharp, utterly void of any shade of gray. Rather than reflecting the mediocre reality of the world around them, these novels present the ideal, the firm convictions that Christians ought to hold, the dedication to service that we should all strive.
This is epitomized in The Least of These My Brothers. Originally published as a magazine series under the title of That Printer of Udell's, this novel presents a world that is both frighteningly real and firmly ambitious. Harold Bell Wright, a mining-city pastor, grieved over the sad state of the poor in his community, and his parishoners' attitudes that church was little more than a social club, and wrote this story as a response.
Dick Falkner, a penniless, unemployed printer, drifts into Boyd City in hopes of finding work. Through the kindness of a print shop owner named Udell, he does, and slowly becomes involved in a local church. His past experiences as a homeless drifter give him a different perspective on the social structure of the church, and Christianity as a whole. He motivates the young people of the church on a series of projects aimed at serving the poor of the community, specifically the endless string of unemployed men whose only solace is alcohol and brothels.
This is met with protest and resistance from some class-conscious church members, who believe their wealth and percieved social status sets them apart from the 'common herd'. Because of his passion for service and his practical ideas, Falkner rises as a leader, while men from wealthier and more influential backgrounds seethe with jealousy at the respect he's garnered. When a wealthy young woman falls in love with him, both her father and brother determine to end the romance. The seething underbelly of the city rises to the surface, and we see that the root of problems there are not the poor, but the cruel wealthy, who will stop at nothing to get what they want. A murder is revealed, a cruel father casts his daughter out into the streets, and a selfish man destroys everyone around him in his quest to ruin Falkner.
The book is not without it's problems. It really is melodramatic, and the convoluted plots the characters weave to reveal one another's secrets, and keep their own, can be difficult to follow. In the end, it's difficult to understand exactly what the main villain of the text was working towards to begin with. But I still recommend it, for three reasons. First, though there are romances, they do not take center stage. They are simply a side benefit to the main work of the text, that is, Dick Falkner's and an entire city's journey to redemption. Second, the best examples of Christian living are those characters who do not claim to be good Christians, but work to live their lives according to Christ's teachings. Third, and most importantly, the message of Christ is so firmly and wonderfully woven into the story that it makes it sheer joy to read. It's not just about knowing Christ in this novel, but living Him.
Highly Recommended.
This is epitomized in The Least of These My Brothers. Originally published as a magazine series under the title of That Printer of Udell's, this novel presents a world that is both frighteningly real and firmly ambitious. Harold Bell Wright, a mining-city pastor, grieved over the sad state of the poor in his community, and his parishoners' attitudes that church was little more than a social club, and wrote this story as a response.
Dick Falkner, a penniless, unemployed printer, drifts into Boyd City in hopes of finding work. Through the kindness of a print shop owner named Udell, he does, and slowly becomes involved in a local church. His past experiences as a homeless drifter give him a different perspective on the social structure of the church, and Christianity as a whole. He motivates the young people of the church on a series of projects aimed at serving the poor of the community, specifically the endless string of unemployed men whose only solace is alcohol and brothels.
This is met with protest and resistance from some class-conscious church members, who believe their wealth and percieved social status sets them apart from the 'common herd'. Because of his passion for service and his practical ideas, Falkner rises as a leader, while men from wealthier and more influential backgrounds seethe with jealousy at the respect he's garnered. When a wealthy young woman falls in love with him, both her father and brother determine to end the romance. The seething underbelly of the city rises to the surface, and we see that the root of problems there are not the poor, but the cruel wealthy, who will stop at nothing to get what they want. A murder is revealed, a cruel father casts his daughter out into the streets, and a selfish man destroys everyone around him in his quest to ruin Falkner.
The book is not without it's problems. It really is melodramatic, and the convoluted plots the characters weave to reveal one another's secrets, and keep their own, can be difficult to follow. In the end, it's difficult to understand exactly what the main villain of the text was working towards to begin with. But I still recommend it, for three reasons. First, though there are romances, they do not take center stage. They are simply a side benefit to the main work of the text, that is, Dick Falkner's and an entire city's journey to redemption. Second, the best examples of Christian living are those characters who do not claim to be good Christians, but work to live their lives according to Christ's teachings. Third, and most importantly, the message of Christ is so firmly and wonderfully woven into the story that it makes it sheer joy to read. It's not just about knowing Christ in this novel, but living Him.
Highly Recommended.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Soul Survivor - Philip Yancey
The full title of this text is Soul Survivor: How Thirteen Unlikely Mentors Helped My Faith Survive the Church. And I was given this book by a pastor, of all people.
I've thanked him.
I like Yancey for many reasons. First of all, he's not afraid to ask the hard questions. He's written a book called Disappointment with God (to be reviewed once I manage to get all the way through it) that asks some seriously hard questions. The questions are so hard I have a difficult time thinking about them. Second, I like Yancey because he likes to poke at those aspects of Christianity nobody wants to talk about anymore, particularly the way that, for centuries, God's Holy Word was used to justify slavery and racism. He's made a lot of people angry, talking about that, but he doesn't stop. And he can't stop, because it's still happening today. There are still regions of the US and Canada where being a blatant racist and advertising hate is perfectly societally acceptable, and even the church won't do anything about it. Third, I like Yancey because he can find the Light in the gray areas. And that, in essence, is what Soul Survivor is all about.
When Yancey says 'unlikely mentors', he means it. The thirteen individuals discussed in this book are not all the ones preached about on Sunday as an example of perfect Christianity. However, Yancey discusses their lives, sorts through their lives, and points out where one can find extraordinary lessons about God in each of their lives. He begins with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Within this narrative, Yancey forthrightly admits his early experiences with racism, how he learned it within the sanctuary of a church. King had an absolute commitment to nonviolence, which in turn, and deliberately, exposed racism for the hateful, disgusting thing that it is. Yancey's heart was turned, as were millions of others. Yancey is also honest in discussing King's own apparent failures, but leaves no doubt in anyone's mind as to the extraordinary impact on both himself and the rest of America.
Though King is often hailed as a Christian hero, and rightfully so, not all of Yancey's mentors follow suit. He discusses Mahatma Ghandi, India's 'Great Soul', who led India to freedom from colonial rule through absolute nonviolent civil disobedience. Ghandi changed the way a nation, and much of the world, thought about the poor, the downtrodden, the 'untouchable'. He preferred to live and sleep in the dirtiest, most dangerous slums even when he was invited to a king's palace. He would not elevate himself above any man, but demanded that those around him treat one another with absolute love and respect. Sound like anyone else you've heard of?
Ghandi openly rejected Christianity.
Yancey still calls him a mentor. The truth of the matter is, Ghandi did not embrace Christianity, but he read about, and tried hard to embody, many of Christ's teachings. In an age where Jesus's own words were being used to justify colonialism, class systems, and many other forms of bigotry, hatred, and domination, that aspect of Christ's love was sorely needed.
Yancey goes on. He discusses Dr. Paul Brand, whose work dramatically furthered the field of leprosy treatment, but whose drive was fueled by a Christ-given love and compassion for those he served. There's Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, whose controversial, tortured works and lives represent a struggle for redemption from which we can all learn. There's English writer GK Chesterton, whose absentminded scribblings still managed to convey profound truths. There's C. Everett Koop, the reluctant surgeon general who struggled to maintain his faith and integrity in a tumultuous period in American social history. There's Annie Dillard, the Pulitzer prizewinner whose writings inspired a nation, but whose fame exacted a sizeable toll. In each of the chapters, he discusses the church's reaction to these mentors, and exposes, sometimes painfully so, the deep and alarming flaws apparent within the church system today.
Yancey is a journalist by trade, so his writing is a pleasure to read. He's clear and wonderfully concise, and weaves through such fantastic little sensual details, you get completely drawn in. He's not an easy read. For the non-Christian, you might be gleeful to find a discussion of a problem within the Christian church, but in the next sentence, you'll see precisely why this issue must be forgiven and why you should embrace God's love anyhow. For the Christian, it's not easy to read about imperfect people having a huge impact on someone's faith, especially if they're someone who has been vilified within the church. It's also painful to read about the flaws in our own system, because Yancey doesn't simply say "you're imperfect, but God loves you anyway so don't worry about it." Yancey calls us to struggle to move beyond that, to take the lessons from the imperfect lives and faiths in order to try and perfect our own. He does not allow for mediocrity or apathy, which is perhaps what he's been speaking against through the whole book.
Highly Recommended.
I've thanked him.
I like Yancey for many reasons. First of all, he's not afraid to ask the hard questions. He's written a book called Disappointment with God (to be reviewed once I manage to get all the way through it) that asks some seriously hard questions. The questions are so hard I have a difficult time thinking about them. Second, I like Yancey because he likes to poke at those aspects of Christianity nobody wants to talk about anymore, particularly the way that, for centuries, God's Holy Word was used to justify slavery and racism. He's made a lot of people angry, talking about that, but he doesn't stop. And he can't stop, because it's still happening today. There are still regions of the US and Canada where being a blatant racist and advertising hate is perfectly societally acceptable, and even the church won't do anything about it. Third, I like Yancey because he can find the Light in the gray areas. And that, in essence, is what Soul Survivor is all about.
When Yancey says 'unlikely mentors', he means it. The thirteen individuals discussed in this book are not all the ones preached about on Sunday as an example of perfect Christianity. However, Yancey discusses their lives, sorts through their lives, and points out where one can find extraordinary lessons about God in each of their lives. He begins with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Within this narrative, Yancey forthrightly admits his early experiences with racism, how he learned it within the sanctuary of a church. King had an absolute commitment to nonviolence, which in turn, and deliberately, exposed racism for the hateful, disgusting thing that it is. Yancey's heart was turned, as were millions of others. Yancey is also honest in discussing King's own apparent failures, but leaves no doubt in anyone's mind as to the extraordinary impact on both himself and the rest of America.
Though King is often hailed as a Christian hero, and rightfully so, not all of Yancey's mentors follow suit. He discusses Mahatma Ghandi, India's 'Great Soul', who led India to freedom from colonial rule through absolute nonviolent civil disobedience. Ghandi changed the way a nation, and much of the world, thought about the poor, the downtrodden, the 'untouchable'. He preferred to live and sleep in the dirtiest, most dangerous slums even when he was invited to a king's palace. He would not elevate himself above any man, but demanded that those around him treat one another with absolute love and respect. Sound like anyone else you've heard of?
Ghandi openly rejected Christianity.
Yancey still calls him a mentor. The truth of the matter is, Ghandi did not embrace Christianity, but he read about, and tried hard to embody, many of Christ's teachings. In an age where Jesus's own words were being used to justify colonialism, class systems, and many other forms of bigotry, hatred, and domination, that aspect of Christ's love was sorely needed.
Yancey goes on. He discusses Dr. Paul Brand, whose work dramatically furthered the field of leprosy treatment, but whose drive was fueled by a Christ-given love and compassion for those he served. There's Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, whose controversial, tortured works and lives represent a struggle for redemption from which we can all learn. There's English writer GK Chesterton, whose absentminded scribblings still managed to convey profound truths. There's C. Everett Koop, the reluctant surgeon general who struggled to maintain his faith and integrity in a tumultuous period in American social history. There's Annie Dillard, the Pulitzer prizewinner whose writings inspired a nation, but whose fame exacted a sizeable toll. In each of the chapters, he discusses the church's reaction to these mentors, and exposes, sometimes painfully so, the deep and alarming flaws apparent within the church system today.
Yancey is a journalist by trade, so his writing is a pleasure to read. He's clear and wonderfully concise, and weaves through such fantastic little sensual details, you get completely drawn in. He's not an easy read. For the non-Christian, you might be gleeful to find a discussion of a problem within the Christian church, but in the next sentence, you'll see precisely why this issue must be forgiven and why you should embrace God's love anyhow. For the Christian, it's not easy to read about imperfect people having a huge impact on someone's faith, especially if they're someone who has been vilified within the church. It's also painful to read about the flaws in our own system, because Yancey doesn't simply say "you're imperfect, but God loves you anyway so don't worry about it." Yancey calls us to struggle to move beyond that, to take the lessons from the imperfect lives and faiths in order to try and perfect our own. He does not allow for mediocrity or apathy, which is perhaps what he's been speaking against through the whole book.
Highly Recommended.
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