Archive - Book Reviews RSS Feed

Hometown Prophet by Jeff Fulmer

HometownProphetThe Scriptures promise that in the latter days, God's people will prophesy. So what happens when God start sending visions Old Testament-style to a rather unlikely fledgling follower living in the buckle of the Bible Belt?

Under Jeff Fulmer's guidance, Nashville's recent historical events take on an apocalyptic tone. The results are explosive.
Continue Reading...

Real Marriage by Mark and Grace Driscoll

Real MarriageIf Love Wins was the most controversial book last year, Real Marriage by Mark and Grace Driscoll is set to win the award this year. Mark Driscoll has long been in the public eye as a confrontational, no-holds barred pastor who likes to shout. Theologically, he's part of the New Calvinist movement and a staunch Complementarian when it comes to gender roles. It's this stance that's drawn him the most attention, from his popular, candid and sexy Song of Solomon tour to blaming Ted Haggard's public fall on his wife (because she "let herself go"), from claiming that stay-at-home dads in his church would be subjected to Church discipline to praising Jesus as a blood-thirsty, sword-wielding UFC fighter.

So when, in the wake of yet another controversy over gender, Driscoll announced that he and his wife would be writing a book on marriage, the Evangelical world was intrigued to say the least.

So how is the book? Well, unsurprisingly, there aren't really any surprises. But in the preface, Driscoll makes a plea to us:

Don’t read as a critic trying to find where you think we might be wrong. Although we seek to be faithful to the Bible, this book is not the Bible, and, like you, we are imperfect, so there will be mistakes. Take whatever gifts you find in this book, and feel free to leave the rest.

Driscolls1I suppose that's a fair request, and while it's not in line with the persona Driscoll is famous for, we can (and should) extend him this grace. And, all in all, it's a really good suggestion.

Real Marriage isn't all bad, however much Driscoll's critics wish it was. But there's plenty to be leery of.
Continue Reading...

Top 10 Books of 2011

In no particular order, here are my 10 favorite books of 2011. Click on the titles to see my full reviews. If I haven't reviewed the book, then it'll take you to the Amazon page.

Fiction

Night of the Living Dead Christian by Matt Mikalatos

For my review of this book, click here.

Matt joins up with a ragtag group of monsters who are all seeking transformation. Their mission is to save Luther Martin, a werewolf whose inner beast has cost him his family. Along the way, Matt and his new friends learn what it really takes to find spiritual transformation.

This book is outstanding. We need more totally silly, totally serious theology like Matt gives us. Not everyone will enjoy the monster metaphor, but if that's your cup of tea, then you need this book. It'll make you take a hard look at the monstrous aspects of your own soul. And you'll ache for the same transformation Matt and his band of monsters discover. While laughing the whole time.

Continue Reading...

Batman: The Black Mirror by Scott Snyder and Jock

 This review is super-spoilery. If you haven't read The Black Mirror yet, do yourself a favor and go grab a copy ASAP. You won't regret it.

Click any of the pictures for a larger version of the image!

No matter who we are, we can't escape our past. Where we've come from and who we've been leave indelible marks on us. Nowhere is this more true than Gotham City, and in Batman: The Black Mirror, Scott Snyder gives us a glimpse into the Darkness that lies at the core of the city.

Continue Reading...

Interview with Author Matt Mikalatos

Back in October, author Matt Mikalatos released his excellent sophomore novel Night of the Living Dead Christian. I've already reviewed the book here, so you already know why you should read it. But Matt has graciously agreed to an interview on my blog. I got the chance to ask him a few questions about where the ideas for his book came from, and how he uses the monsters metaphor to explore spiritual transformation. Here's what he had to say:
Continue Reading...

Insurrection by Peter Rollins

Insurrection by Peter Rollins reads as a manifesto calling for a radical change to the Evangelical Church. It's a call to have a "religionless Christianity" that will look very different from what has come before. Rollins states as much in his introduction:
Each epoch in the life of the Church arises from the white-hot fires of a fundamental question, a question that burns away the husk that was once thought to be essential in order to reveal once more the revolutionary event heralded… They offer us a unique opportunity to rethink what it means to be the Church, not merely critiquing the presently existing Church for failing to live up to its ideals, but rather for espousing the wrong ideals.
Insurrection-e1314531941742The "wrong ideals" for Rollins are embodied in the (in)famous Chick Tracts published by Jack T. Chick. Though he doesn't cite them until well into the second half of Insurrection, breezing through a few of them before digging into Insurrection would not only help determine what sort of religion Rollins would have us abandon, but might also make us more sympathetic when Rollins steps beyond the bounds of Orthodoxy, as he does in several places.

Continue Reading...

Earthen Vessels by Matthew Lee Anderson

earthen-vessels-why-our-bodies-matter-faith-matthew-lee-anderson-paperback-cover-artAnyone who's been raised in contemporary American culture probably shares a view of our bodies as a sort of "Earth Suit" that houses our true Selves. Our bodies are a commodity that we can use and shape however we want. In his first book, theologian Matthew Lee Anderson observes that this is a reflection of the values of the larger American culture:
Our bodies are no longer begotten, but are made, constructed by our own individual will and by the institutions of society that tell us how to act. They are the primary place where we exert our power and domination, which is why we quarantine those who can no longer control their own bodily functions.
Writing as an Evangelical Christian, Anderson observes that the Evangelical church hasn't done much to dissuade us from thinking of ourselves this way: disembodied Souls that live (temporarily) in a soon-to-be-discarded shell. He observes:
The evangelical legacy with respect to the body seems to be more one of inattention than outright rejection or even a conscious ambivalence.
For someone who was raised Evangelical and who has since come to discover the importance of our bodies, Anderson's book comes as a breath of fresh air. He skillfully and thoroughly explores what it means to live in a physical world as a physical person who follows Jesus. His stated goal:
I want to examine the role the physical body plays in our spiritual, social and ecclesiastical lives by exploring the shape our bodies should take in response to the love that God demonstrates to us through the person of Jesus Christ… My question is how that grace shapes our arms and legs, our skin and other organs.
Anderson's exploration of what it means to be a body begins with a strong critique of how we've been trained to think of our bodies by contemporary American culture. He quickly moves into the Scriptures, to explore what the Scriptures teach about our bodies.

Anderson suggests that our bodies are good gifts of a creative God that at once affirm God's love for us and, through our bodily limitations, our role as creatures.

With this framework in place, Anderson moves deftly from topic to topic, exploring how a firmly embodied spirituality changes the kinds of questions we ask and the assumptions we make as Christians concerning a surprising variety of issues. Anderson handles more obvious issues such as the beauty cult, abortion, gay & lesbian identity and tattoos. But his methodology also allows him to discuss convincingly issues like technology, pornography, Christian singleness, the inevitability of death and even the so-called worship wars. He concludes with twin reflections on the import of our bodies in our personal and corporate spiritual lives.

The sheer breadth of topics Anderson considers - to say nothing of his excellent, gracious writing style - invites multiple, careful readings and discussion of his arguments.

Given the subject matter, I was pleased that Anderson notes that he writes from a particular, embodied place and perspective. And as such, I didn't agree with everything he said. Nor, I suspect, will you. But Earthen Vessels is more about reframing and rebooting our conversations about these issues than it is ending them. And in that regard, Anderson's book is a fine catalyst. He draws on a wide range of thinkers - from the Church fathers to C. S. Lewis to N. T. Wright and John Piper. His tone is consistently firm yet gracious, which serves to invite us into this vital conversation.

Perhaps the only glaring omission I noted in Earthen Vessels was a surprising lack of non-Western Christian voices.

earthen-vessels-iv-jun-jamosmosI assume, for instance, that some African theologies take the body more seriously than Evangelicalism. Anderson did not cite any non-Western thinkers or theologians; I wonder what they might have to teach us. Of course, it's entirely possible no such works exist; Anderson doesn't comment either way. In any case, a dialogue with theologians from culture that take the body more seriously than we do would doubtless prove fruitful.

Earthen Vessels is pretty technical. Those who don't have any theological training will find it intimidating.

Still, anyone who's teaching or leading a small group or class would find it to be an indispensable tool. This book is worth taking your time and savoring with a group of friends. Each chapter - practically each section demands serious discussion and application.

Bottom Line: A challenging, insightful book that calls us to reexamine nearly every aspect of our lives. We do, after all, experience everything through our bodies. Get this book, read it and start talking!

Christian Zombie Killer's Handbook by Jeff Kinley

Last year, when I discovered Matt Mikalatos’ Imaginary Jesus, I was thrilled to see an announcement in the back of the book for Matt’s next book, Night of the Living Dead Christian, which just came out this month. So I was surprised to see Thomas Nelson publishing almost on the same day a book called The Christian Zombie Killer’s Handbook by an evangelist named Jeff Kinley.

Short story: this book is not good. It’s got a couple of bright spots, but nothing worth picking up.

Long story: this book has multiple problems. First, the book is actually two books in one. Each chapter is preceded by an “Episode” that is a loosely connected zombie story. The plot is a fairly standard precursor to a zombie apocalypse. It’s dull and poorly plotted, utterly forgettable. After each episode, Kinley presents a chapter of popular level theology that walks the reader through a book-length gospel presentation. The theology is painfully, stereotypically Evangelical in the worst way. Tons of proof-texting. Overly literal reading of Genesis 1-3, including a genetic/mechanical understanding of Original Sin. Penal Substitutionary atonement. Detailed descriptions of sin that are gratuitously gruesome to the point of being pornographic. A few shots at Rob Bell and Love Wins. And good ole-fashioned hard-boiled Dispensationalist Eschatology (including Rapture, Antichrist and uber-violent Jesus).

While I think the theology is bad (really bad), that’s not necessarily enough to make this book a no-go. We should all read stuff we disagree with. It’s good for us. Skip this book because it’s so poorly written.

The chapters use the Zombie metaphor thinly and not well. Kinley describes the “zombie inside each of us” as:
The part of you that loves to do what is wrong. It takes great pleasure in seeing life revolve around its huge ego. It thrives on satisfying its every desire. It is the ultimate narcissist. The poster child for self-absorption, it walks a thin line between shallow insecurity and egotistical conceit. But, the reality remains—there is a devil inside you. Lurking, lusting, longing to take control.
Okay, fine, I suppose. It doesn’t sound much like a zombie, but I can stretch a little bit. He continues in another chapter, to discuss temptation:
When another “zombie” grunts and moans about “fresh brains” (some sinful attitude or action), the zombie inside you picks up the scent and is very pleased. You give in to the temptation. And God is grieved. Make sense?
No, that doesn’t make any sense. The metaphor is stretched way too thin. It’d be helpful if the intervening Episodes would shed some light, but they’re even less helpful. As I read them, I kept trying to force some sort of deeper meaning from them, but they were devoid of metaphor. At least I hope they were. For instance, this section describes the function of the Zombie Task Force, an elite, para-military group tasked with killing the living dead:
It’s the cardinal rule of ZTF warfare: no man alone. You can’t win with one. “Lose your buddy, lose your life.” ZTF operates in squads of twelve men, with each man assigned to a “battle buddy.” They fight side by side at all times and are together…
Okay. Sounds like accountability. Right? I hope not, because next Kinley says:
Perhaps the most difficult portion of this training involves protocol in the event a fellow soldier is bitten or infected during a mission. ZTF soldiers know that if this occurs, it is their sworn duty to protect their squad and their country by terminating the infected man on the spot. (emphasis mine)
Yikes. I have no idea how that ties into accountability. And the rest of the Episodes are no better. Overall, it makes for a weak, confusing book that makes the bad theology even less understandable. Kinley’s target seems to be Christian teens who struggle with discipleship and transformation. As a former youth pastor, I would not recommend this book to any of my students. It will ultimately be much more confusing than it will be helpful, whether you agree with Kinley’s theology or not.

Bottom Line: Skip this book. If you want zombies and theology, pick up Matt’s book instead. You’ll be much better off.

Have you read this book? What did you think of it? Do you like the Zombie metaphor for Spiritual Formation?

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

The Leftovers by Tom Perrotta

Macmillan Audio has graciously offered to give one free copy of the audio book The Leftovers to one of my readers! Here's how you win:

  1. In the comments, answer this question: What's the worst piece of Rapture propaganda you've ever seen? (You may also invent your own. Make sure it's bad!) 
  2. Share this post on Twitter or Facebook! (you can use the sharing bookmarks at the bottom of the post)

I'll select the winner randomly on Wednesday, October 12. Spread the word!

The Leftovers asks a fascinating question: suppose the Rapture actually happened. Do you think it would fundamentally change human nature? Tom Perrotta thinks not, and thus the heart of The Leftovers, which after a brief prologue opens three years after what has become known as the “Sudden Disappearance” in which millions of people all over the globe simply vanished. At first, everyone assumed it to be the Rapture, but the vanished shared nothing in common – including religion. With no clear explanations available, humanity is left to make sense of the event on our own. Three years out, we get to live with the survivors in the small town of Mapelton – the Leftovers as many of them think of themselves – as they try to make sense of a world that’s fundamentally changed. Unsurprisingly, plenty of people are still convinced that the Sudden Disappearance was the Rapture, and that the world therefore has a quickly-expiring shelf life. The despair this evokes in them is palpable, as in the case of Laurie, a housewife whose family survives intact:
Deep in her heart, as soon as it happened, she knew. She'd been left behind. They all had. It didn't matter that God hadn't factored religion into His decision-making - if anything, that just made it worse, more of a personal rejection.
Laurie can’t come to terms with her rejection, so she joins the Guilty Remnant, one of several cults that springs up in the wake of the Sudden Departure. The G. R., as they’re called, wear all white and take a vow of silence. They smoke cigarettes as a sacrament, to remind themselves daily that they are guilty and deserve death. They follow everyday citizens around Mapleton, staring at them, interrupting their daily routines to remind them that they’re all leftovers. A few others (including Laurie’s collegiate son Tom) join a national following surrounding a charismatic hugger who gets caught up in his own press, styling himself “Holy Wayne” and making wild messianic promises in the midst of growing scandal. We catch wind of another movement of neo-hippies who call themselves the Barefoot People. They paint bullseyes on their foreheads “so the Creator will recognize us.” 031110_1009_Youmaybeare1More disturbing to me was the Reverend Matt Jamison, Mapleton’s lead rapture-denier. Jamison becomes obsessed with proving that the Sudden Departure couldn’t have been the Rapture. He proves it (to everyone, it seems, but himself) by publishing a monthly gossip rag that runs as much dirt and scandal on anyone who disappeared that Jamison could find. Rev. Jamison is one of The Leftovers’ ugliest characters. The amount (and variety) of religious fervor that breaks out in the wake of the Sudden Disappearance isn’t surprising, and Perrotta handles each group with respect. None of them seem like caricatures – they’re all disturbingly believable.

The surprise is that most people just try to move on with their lives, get back to business as usual as best as they can.

060911-F-9471G-005That seems to be Perrotta’s take on human nature. The Sudden Disappearance and its aftermath bear an uncanny, undeniable resemblance to our post-9/11 world. A tragedy too large for us truly to process with any sort of clarity forces itself upon our collective cultural consciousness and we change – sometimes for the better, but often for the worse. In reading The Leftovers, we meet people that we know, because they’re everyday people, just like we are. The Hero Parade that marks the third anniversary of the Sudden Disappearance reminds us of how uneasy we are with death, how quickly we deify the dead. How easily we celebrate the victims of a tragedy as heroes for no better reason that that they’re gone and we’re here, as though our celebrations are some form of survivors’ guilt. Kevin, Laurie’s husband and new mayor of Mapleton understands this as he thinks about a townsperson receiving a memorial celebration:
Personally, he hadn’t been all that crazy about Ted Figueroa… but this wasn’t the time or place for honest about the dead.
The Leftovers reminds us that our grief is mainly for us. That our grieving can actually keep us from moving forward. Grieving well is essential to our healing. I’m sure plenty of Christians will pick up this book thinking it’s a new Left Behind series. When they do, they’ll be sorely disappointed. Perrotta is not writing from a particularly religious perspective, nor does he assume that LeHaye and company’s predictions are all that accurate.* As he himself said in an interview with CNN’s Belief Blog:
[This book is] not a theological argument with apocalyptic theology. It’s a book about how we remember, how we forget, how we move on. It’s also about the way that trauma inspires intensely religious reactions.
In this, Perrotta succeeds admirably, giving us a novel that is readable, haunting and hopeful all at once. Unsurprisingly, Stephen King summed it up better than I ever could in his New York Times review:
Perrotta has delivered a troubling disquisition on how ordinary people react to extraordinary and inexplicable events, the power of family to hurt and to heal, and the unobtrusive ease with which faith can slide into fanaticism.
Bottom Line: The Leftovers is a good read that helps us reflect on how we respond to tragedy and what it means to move on with our lives. A timely book for a culture just beginning to come to terms with 9/11 and its aftermath. Don’t let your Rapture theology (whatever it is) get in the way of enjoying this book.

Here's a preview of The Leftovers, an excerpt from the audiobook. You get to meet Kevin, the mayor of Mapleton, on the morning of the Heroes' Day parade:

Have you read The Leftovers? What did you think of Perrotta’s take on the Rapture? What about the characters’ responses to it?

*Theologically, I don’t support a Rapture theology that looks like what Perrotta imagines here. I really enjoy Peter Rollins’ take on The Rapture, and if you want my take, it’s right here and here.

Night of the Living Dead Christian

978-1-4143-3880-4 Every good monster-movie enthusiast knows that the Christian life is anathema to the undead, at least traditionally. Okay, at least for vampires. In the wake of his stellar breakout book, Imaginary Jesus,Matt Mikalatos decides to take the presence of the undead among us at face value. Christians claim to be the resurrected dead, but what if we've been raised only to a half-life? That sort of Christianity may be exactly what James described:
"What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? ...Faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead." (2:14, 17, NRS)
Those who follow Jesus want a living, vibrant, exciting faith. So why does Christianity seem to foster so many undead, half-living monsters?
Writer, husband and father? Or MAD SCIENTIST? *cue evil laugh*Night of the Living Dead Christian takes the metaphor at face value and dives in head-first: bring on the Zombies! Well, not just zombies. In Night of the Living Dead Christian, Matt teams up with a mad scientist, an android, a vampire and a whole Church-full of zombies to help his neighbor, Luther Ann Martin, find a cure for his lycanthropy (which for you laypersons means that Luther is a werewolf). As in Imaginary Jesus, Matt's non sequitur, real-life-meets-the-fantastic humor keeps you laughing and rolling your eyes.

And Matt handles the metaphor so deftly his point is always clear just below the surface, ready to engage you in some serious self-reflection.
Luther the Werewolf is any of those people who feel that they have a beast living inside them that they can't quite control. Those of us who can relate to Luther’s self-description:
There are many nights when I crave that sudden infusion of air, that falling away of the higher functions and the sharpness that comes with listening to my instincts, with doing what my body tells me to do.
Luther's wrestling with his base nature is truly the core of the book. His voice frequently interrupts the narrative with deep, theological musings on the nature of fallen humans crying for rescue and redemption. What reader can't hear their own struggles in Luther's? Which of us cannot hear the Werewolf?

That doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of other monsters. The Zombies are those of us who find it easier to follow an intelligent, charismatic leader, to let his spirituality be ours. Those of us who have found it easier to surrender our brains than to engage our own faith.

The Vampires? The selfish, those who take and take and take from others, who can't stand a moment of self-reflection, who never give back.

As Matt's team works to help Luther escape the beast within, Matt comes face to face with his own monstrous nature: he's a mad scientist. As the vampire tells him,
You think you’re smarter than other people. You have your little knot of henchmen. You’re trying to fix the world around you whatever the cost, never thinking of the damage you’re doing.
We can't help but wonder which monster(s) we are as we meet them. We can't help but see ourselves in them. Monsters have always been a safe way for humanity to explore our inner demons. In Night of the Living Dead Christian, Matt uses them as a mirror for our Christianity and asks how we can be truly, fully transformed.

The old stories really are true: the Christian life - the full, true life lived in the freedom Jesus offers - is still anathema to the undead in all of us.
A simple concept, but not easy. The how of transformation refuses all formulas and systems. As fun and witty as NotLDC is, it's not a book of neat and tidy answers. Matt allows the messiness of reality to ruin his story, so the resolution is at once less than we want and more honest. The honesty is our source of hope: NotLDC refuses to offer us cop outs. The deus ex machina at the end of the story truly is the only ending we can honestly hope for. So while Matt doesn't give us easy answers - the kind that only work in books and never in real life - he does point the way towards true, transformed life.

Matt's books are love-letters to the Evangelical community in all our broken mess. New believers or those exploring Christianity may not pick up on a lot of the subtle jokes and gags, but the story is sufficiently rich that anyone will enjoy and be challenged by what they find. Those who do pick up on the jabs will be pleased to note that Matt takes shots at everyone, including an honest look at himself. It's a great book to read on your own, but it'd work even better as a discussion starter.

Bottom Line: This book is outstanding. We need more totally silly, totally serious theology like Matt gives us. Not everyone will enjoy the monster metaphor, but if that's your cup of tea, then you need this book. It'll make you take a hard look at the monstrous aspects of your own soul. And you'll ache for the same transformation Matt and his band of monsters discover.

Have you read Night of the Living Dead Christian yet? What did you think? What kind of monster are you?

Page 1 of 512345»