A Burning In My Bones, by Winn Collier

Book number 36 for 2024; 5/5 stars (I’d give it 10)

I know it is only April, but I do believe that this book will stand as the best book I will read in 2024. 

I already loved Eugene H. Peterson, having read many of his books and enjoyed his Message Bible. But Winn Collier has given us a glimpse into the life of this man that is life-altering. I learned things that I never knew about Peterson, some of them rather surprising. For example, he was raised Pentecostal. I had no idea. And, at one point, early in his career, he was, apparently good friends with Pat Robertson. That appears to not have lasted very long, though, and I’m somewhat grateful for that, as well. That’s all I’m going to say on that subject.

But Eugene H. Peterson was a very humble man, and I had no idea of the scope of this humility. He never wanted to be a celebrity. He just wanted to serve people, and then he wanted to write. And write he did. Besides being a pastor of a Presbyterian church in Maryland for many years, he also taught for a number of years at Regent College in Vancouver, while advancing his writing career at the same time.

Mr. Collier uses material from Peterson’s own memoir, The Pastor: A Memoir, as well as material from the many letters and journals that Eugene kept. He also interviewed many people that Peterson influenced along the way, as well as family members. And he spent some time with the man, himself, before he passed away in 2018.

One person was quoted as saying that Eugene was “fastened in God.” That’s a description that I had never heard before, but I would certainly like to be describe that way, myself. He always said he wanted to be a saint. I believe that he accomplished that, but one of the true characteristics of a saint is that they don’t know that they are one. And Peterson never felt that he had “arrived.” In fact, he constantly felt himself to be inadequate to the task, and this was more evident as he translated The Message.

I love the many quotes that we get from Eugene, throughout this book, especially as he moved away from the traditional “evangelical” label. “Evangelicalism is too combative and clear-cut for me,” he is quoted as saying. I find myself in agreement with that statement. He was also very interested and focused on prayer. “When we pray, we don’t become more like anyone else, especially the ‘great ones,’ we become more like ourselves.”

It pained him greatly to see the amount of hatred spewed out by so-called Christians. “How the so-called Christian community can generate so much hate is appalling. Haven’t we learned anything about civil discourse? Will we ever? And it is so debilitating – we have this glorious gospel to proclaim and give away and we gang up against one another and throw dogma-rocks.” “[The schismatics] cancel out any truth that they are contending for by the hate they vomit in the sanctuary.”

I feel indebted to Winn Collier for giving us this book, this intimate glimpse into the life and legacy of Eugene H. Peterson. It will hold a prominent place on my shelves and a special place in my heart for years to come.

TTFN, y’all!

In A Grain of Sand, the Whole World, by Carley Eason Evans

Book number 33 for 2024; 4.5 of 5 stars.

I would imagine it is challenging to write historical fiction. What parts of the history does the author remain faithful to; what parts can afford artistic license? In In A Grain of Sand, the Whole World, Carley Evans takes the life of Christ and draws in a story involving the unnamed Samaritan woman at the well. Unnamed in Scripture, that is.

But tradition gives this woman a name, and lo and behold, she is even a saint. St. Photini, whom I never heard of until now. Of course, I know the story of the Samaritan woman. But I only know the story from the Bible, which takes place in a single chapter of the book of John.

There is a danger, as well, in writing historical fiction, and that danger is, how will readers accept the aforementioned artistic license? If I did not know the story of Jesus so well, this may have been a solid five-star read. As it is, though, I struggled, myself, with some of the license taken with the story. The author does include a single page explanation about some of this at the end of the book.

But first, what did I like about the book? It is well-written, and, for the most part biblically accurate. The book begins by introducing us to Photini, who, in this tale, is a sex worker in Samaria, more out of necessity than desire or enjoyment. This is a logical thing to include in the story, and sets up her conversation with Jesus at the well, which takes place not too long into the book. 

The story is engaging and moves along quickly, following Jesus’s ministry closely. It is also well-imagined. I like that John the Baptizer is included in the story, as well. 

Once the resurrection of Jesus happens, the rest of the book is mostly fictional (at least as far as any biblical account goes; I will admit that I am relatively ignorant about extra-biblical sources of things that transpired after that). Photini (the Samaritan woman) and a small group of women, as well as Lazarus (that’s an interesting inclusion, as well, I think) travel around, eventually making their way to Rome. Photini carries the shroud of Turin with her, using it to spread the word about the Jewish Messiah who was crucified, buried and rose again.

There is nothing that I flat-out didn’t like, but there are things that I struggled with. One was the inclusion of the woman at the Last Supper. Don’t get me wrong . . . I am far from anti-feminist, but tradition has that event as being Jesus and His twelve disciples alone. In this tale, Photini, and other women are present and get their feet washed as well. I’m not sure how I felt about that. But here’s the thing . . . this is a case of artistic license that doesn’t affect the story as a whole. It’s just a personal thing.

Another small detail that I questioned was that shortly before the “triumphal entry,” the author writes that a couple of disciples obtain a donkey because Jesus appeared to be tired. In the biblical record, Jesus told them to go find the donkey and get it. 

The last detail I will point out involves Pentecost. The author has it occurring outside, in the Garden of Gethsemane, at the spot where Jesus prayed for the cup to pass from Him. In the biblical record, we are not told where, exactly, the group was gathered, but they were definitely inside, because a house is mentioned. Odds are, it may have even been in the infamous Upper Room.

These are only small details, though. I repeat that this is a well-written fictional rendering of the life of Christ, that includes a character who may or may not have had as big a role in His life as the tale indicates. What if this Samaritan woman did figure out a way to follow Jesus and His disciples? She definitely told her whole village about this man who told her everything there was to know about her life.

Another thing I liked, before I finish. Carley writes Jesus as a human being. Yes, He is God, too. But He gets tired! When He returned from the forty days of fasting and temptation, He can barely walk; He is parched; His lips are chapped; He can barely swallow. There are many times where He simply falls asleep out of exhaustion. Sometimes, I think we get this picture of Jesus that is mostly God and barely human. Carley gives us a different picture, even having Him pass out multiple times during His scourging. 

This may be this author’s best novel. I’ve read all of them and only remember one that I liked as well as this one. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys historical fiction, especially of the “religious” variety. 

TTFN, y’all!

Spiritual Contemplation of Christ’s Suffering: A Lenten Devotion, edited by Joshua Scheer

Book number 31 for 2024; 3/5 stars (barely)

There were parts of this devotional that I really enjoyed, but overall, it was quite disappointing. It was recommended by a Lutheran friend, so I decided to try it. There is actually a free PDF version available, but I chose to pay $3 for the Kindle version.

First, what I liked. I like the whole theme of this devotional. Focusing on the suffering of Christ in the days leading up to the crucifixion is a worthy Lenten theme. This book gives us a daily devotional for all forty days of Lent, plus each of the Sundays during the season. There are some readings that really spoke to me. One, in particular, spoke of baptism. “It is said, ‘Jesus was baptized into our dirty bathwater.’ Which means, He had no need of baptism, but in submitting to baptism He took our sin upon himself. In doing so He left the water clean. Thus, purifying baptism and making it a life-giving flood.” This was something that had never been presented to me, before. 

Regarding our sinfulness and wickedness: “As the devil, the world, and even your own sinful flesh pick at your brain, telling you how wicked you are, do not let it drive you to despair. Confess your sins. Cry out that yes, you are wicked and guilty, but it is of no concern. Jesus has given you His righteousness. Jesus has declared you just. Jesus has done for you what you could never do for yourself. Those voices may harass you all your days on earth, but they will stop one day. And all you will hear is the voice of Jesus who has declared you righteous.” 

Regarding the cup that Jesus drank: “When His blood pooled upon the ground at Golgotha it did not pool into the curse of death. It formed the pool of life. Jesus drank the cup of death and out of it poured the cup of life. As His blood flowed from His body it filled another cup; the cup of life. This cup our Lord gives us to drink.”

What I didn’t like: There were some statements that I simply disagreed with. At one point, it was stated that Judas had sought a means to consume money that he was taking from the treasury (John accuses him of having sticky fingers). There is no evidence at any point that Judas had made plans to spend the money. 

There’s another point where the author of the reading says this in regard to Jesus stooping to write on the ground when the woman caught in adultery was brought before Him: “Jesus bends down and writes in the dirt, symbolizing that He is the one who wrote the Law in the first place, and that He is the ultimate authority on what it means to read, interpret, and enact the Law of the Old Testament.” This is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. There is absolutely no reason given as to why Jesus wrote on the ground or what He wrote. This is pure speculation. 

One my biggest complaints is the number of typos in the Kindle version. There are quite a few, which tells me that editing was either not done at all or done very poorly. More than once the word “though” appears, where it should clearly be “through.” In one place, the word “statue” appears, and it should be “statutes.” There are more of those, throughout the book. Simply sloppy editing.

This book could have been better. I don’t plan to use it in future Lent seasons and would not recommend it to anyone. 

TTFN, y’all!

The Seven Storey Mountain, by Thomas Merton

Book number 30 for 2024, 3.5/5 stars.

I chose this book as part of my Lenten season reading for this year. I had heard about this book for many years and finally got around to reading it. It seems to be a very popular and famous book.

Thomas Merton was a Trappist Monk, also known as the Cistercian Order, if I understand correctly. But he spent the first part of his life as practically an atheist. This is his story, but, to me, it is more of a memoir than an autobiography. That’s just my opinion, though. 

The star rating that I would eventually give this book changed multiple times, along the way. Early on, I found it very interesting. However, there was a segment of the book nearly did me in. I got really bogged down in that section. His time at Columbia University really got philosophical. But then came the telling of his baptism story, and that was uplifting and fascinating. From that point on, the book held my interest more.

He went through a lot, during all of these phases. He had decided that he wanted to be a priest, and had even got accepted at a monastery. But then he was riddled with guilt over his past sins and felt that he needed to “come clean” with the Father, after which he was eliminated from the possibility of being a priest, at least in the Franciscan Order, which was where he thought he needed to be. In time, though, he eventually wound up in the Cistercian Order, as a Trappist Monk.  And this was a contemplative order, as well.

There are many flashes of inspiration in the book, but there are places that really made me scratch my head, as well. And I suppose this is common in any book or writing of one who might be considered a “mystic.” There are a few quotes that I found worth mentioning.

“The devil is no fool. He can get people feeling about heaven the way they ought to feel about hell. He can make them fear the means of grace the way they do not fear sin, and he does so, not by light but by obscurity, not by realities but by shadows; not by clarity and substance, but by dreams and the creatures of psychosis. And men are so poor in intellect that a few cold chills down their spine will be enough to keep them from ever finding out the truth about anything.” (p. 26)

“The love of pleasure is destined by its very nature to defeat itself and end in frustration.” (p. 106)

“It is a kind of pride to insist that none of our prayers should ever be petitions for our own needs; for this is only another subtle way of trying to put ourselves on the same plane as God – acting as if we had no needs, as if we were not creatures, not dependent on Him and dependent, by His will, on material things, too.” (p. 247)

And one of the most beautiful, to me: “What a thing Mass becomes, in hands hardened by gruelling and sacrificial labor, in poverty and abjection and humiliation! ‘See, see,’ said those lights, those shadows in all the chapels. ‘See Who God is! Realize what this Mass is! See Christ here, on the Cross! See His wounds, see His torn hands, see how the King of Glory is crowned with thorns! Do you know what Love is? Here is Love, Here on this Cross, here is Love, suffering these nails, these thorns, that scourge loaded with lead, smashed to pieces, bleeding to death because of your sins and bleeding to death because of people that will never know Him, and never thing of Him and will never remember His Sacrifice. Learn from Him how to love God and how to love men! Learn of this Cross, this Love, how to give your life away to Him.'”

I could easily say that the book went from four stars to three, and back to four, based on which section I was reading. I finally wound up at 3.5 (I left it at 3 on Goodreads, which doesn’t allow half-star ratings). I liked it, and almost “really liked” it, but not quite. I probably won’t keep my copy and probably will never read it again . . . too much other stuff out there for that. Would I recommend it? Not automatically. But it is definitely a good way to get into the head of one who is staunchly Catholic and could be useful in some understanding of that. It would almost be better to find someone who had summarized some of the more inspirational parts of the story.

TTFN, y’all!

Advent: The Once & Future Coming of Jesus Christ, by Fleming Rutledge

Book number 24 for 2024; 5/5 stars

I wasn’t sure what to expect with this book, when I ordered it. I can’t remember exactly why I ordered it, but I think it was because of some quotes from it were referenced in another book that I read. I also really enjoyed Ms. Rutledge’s book on Epiphany from The Fullness of Time Series.

It turns out that this book is a series of essays and sermons that were preached by Fleming Rutledge, during or around Advent over a course of years, at various churches and occasions. I read the book exactly how we are advised NOT to read it, in the forward, from cover to cover. Because of that, I encountered (as she warns) a lot of repetition, throughout the book. But I didn’t mind that, and it obviously did not affect my opinion of the book.

I like how the book is arranged. It begins with the essays, and moves on to the sermons, progressing from the weeks prior to Advent, up until the fourth Sunday of Advent. As Ms. Rutledge is Episcopalian, I learned a few more things about Advent that I had not already known. In the Episcopalian Church (and I believe my Lutheran Church is pretty much the same), they do not even put up Christmas decorations until after the last Sunday of Advent. Christmas songs are not sung until Christmas Eve. Now, in my church, we continue to sing Christmas songs into January, at least until Epiphany, and maybe longer.

She also believes that Advent should be seven weeks, rather than four, and that it begins the day after All Hallows, which is November 1. That was a new perspective for me.

And, as noted in the subtitle, Advent, from Fleming Rutledge’s perspective is more about the second coming of Christ than the first. Over and over again, it is stated that we, the Church, live in a perpetual state of Advent, as we are always awaiting the second coming of Christ. She refers to it, at times, as “the in-between,” and W.H. Auden, whom she quotes frequently, refers to it as “The Time Being.” We are in a perpetual state of waiting, and that is what Advent is about. 

She also quotes T.S. Eliot quite a bit in these sermons, and C.S. Lewis, as well. There are times where there is even a bit of political leaning in the messages, and I don’t mind that, at least in the context of these messages. It is only in reference to how we should react to events in the world, and she cites plenty of those as she finds Advent in daily headlines in the news.

This is an excellent volume, and I will definitely keep it on my shelf for future reference. I will not, however, ever read it from cover to cover again. It will be primarily to pick up and read a sermon, here and there, especially during each Advent season. And the sermons are seldom more than four pages long.

TTFN, y’all!

A City on Mars, by Kelly and Zach Weinersmith

Book number 22 for 2024; 4.5 stars.

I really enjoyed this book. I will be honest and say that the first half (approximately) was much more interesting to me than the last few parts, but that didn’t affect my overall rating. In this book, Kelly and Zach Weinersmith explore the possibility, practicality, and legality of space settlements.

They discuss the popular reasons for space settlement, and manage to debunk most of them. But don’t be fooled. The Weinersmiths love the idea of settling space. They just don’t think it’s going to be feasible for quite a long time, yet.

They bring into focus some of the issues that people like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos aren’t talking about. Biological issues (having babies in space is rather important, if you’re planning on long-term space settlements, and nobody has done much research on that topic), geopolitical issues, physiological issues (Mars is basically poisonous!), and others.

Settling in space will not make us wiser, it will not make us richer, and, more importantly, it will not make war less likely (but it will make war more dangerous, if that were even possible). One thing that they keep coming back to, and that is repeated often in the book is “space is awful.” One of the first quotes I highlighted was, “An Earth with climate change and nuclear war and, like, zombies and werewolves is still a way better place than Mars” (p.22). The space-settling enthusiasts would have us romanticize the Moon and Mars.

And, to me, the most important statement in the book involves the geopolitical ramifications of space settling. “But we have not moved beyond conflict. Our ability to harm ourselves vastly outweighs our ability to protect ourselves” (p. 381). In short, there is no reason to believe that humans will stop acting like humans just because they have moved to Mars.

The book is quite entertaining, besides being informative. Kelly and Zach have a kind of sense of humor that reminds me greatly of Dave Barry, one of my favorite humorists. And they keep the science accessible, for the most part. I didn’t enjoy the parts on space law, quite as much, but, as I said, it did not affect my rating of the book. 

Anyone who is interested in space settling should read this. And anyone who thinks that settling space will be a breeze (coughcoughElonMusk) should also read it.

TTFN, y’all!

Murderabilia: A History of Crime in 100 Objects, by Harold Schechter

Book number 15 for 2024; 5/5 stars.

The general public’s fascination with true crime is not a recent phenomenon, even though it seems to have gained great popularity in the last decade or so. In Murderabilia, Harold Schechter gives a chronological encapsulation of 100 crimes that are associated with some sort of memorabilia from the crime or crime scene.

Long before police learned to isolate crime scenes with that magic yellow tape that somehow keeps people from crossing a line, people flocked to crime scenes by the thousands, trampling evidence, and taking it home with them. The first photo in this book is of the scene of Belle Gunness’s “murder farm,” where “thousands of curiosity-seekers flocked to her burned-down home to gawk at the cellar where her charred corpse and those of her children were found.” In one case, when a criminal was hanged, the noose was cut up and sold for “a guinea per inch.” 

The crimes in this book begin in 1808 with the murder of “Omie Wise” and go, in chronological order, all the way to 2014 and the “Slender Man Stabbing.” Many of these crimes I have heard of. Some are well-known by just about anyone; Bonnie and Clyde (featuring the car in which they were killed), H.H. Holmes (featuring a shovel used to bury two of his victims), The Zodiac Killer (featuring the infamous coded note), and of course, Ted Bundy (featuring his modified VW Bug). There are many I have not heard of, and some I know of because of true crime podcasts that I have listened to in recent years. I was pleased to see that he even included the murder of Kitty Genovese, in NYC in 1964, which was the inspiration of Harlan Ellison’s short story, “The Whimper of Whipped Dogs.” That crime also resulted in our 911 emergency calling system.

There are 100 short chapters (none more than three pages), each one featuring a piece of memorabilia associated with the crime. The book is very well-written and fascinating to read. I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing. It does get rather graphic, at times, and I will say that, while there have been perverse people all throughout history, the crimes tend to get more violent and perverse the further forward in time we go. That certainly makes one wonder about the state of humanity in general.

If you’re into true crime, this is a very accessible read on the subject. 

TTFN, y’all!

On the Road with Francis of Assisi, by Linda Bird Francke

Book number 12 for 2024, 4/5 stars.

I’m almost at a loss as to how to begin this. Obviously, I knew very little about St. Francis of Assisi. I thought I knew  little bit, but it was mostly from legends about him and animals. Oh, and, of course, his famous prayer, “Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace . . .”

In 2004, Linda Bird Francke and her husband went on a “road trip” through Italy, retracing the steps of the great saint, following the course of his life. This book is the memoir of that trip. It is not strictly a biography, because, goodness knows, there is an abundance of biographies about both Francis and St. Clare. Initially, Ms. Francke intended this book to be about both of them, but, while Clare is featured heavily in the book, it primarily centers around Francis.

It is a delightful book, and quite inspiring, as the author gives us her impressions as they travel. The descriptions are so vivid that it is easy to picture the countryside and landscapes through which they traveled. That being said, I found myself wishing for photographs. Then I came to one of two groups of photos that are in the book. Alas, though, they are all black and white, which is greatly unsatisfying. Oh, well. At least there were pictures.

Interspersed with the descriptions of their travel, we get snippets of the life and legends surrounding St. Francis of Assisi. We visit the many hermitages that he founded, along with churches that he restored and “monasteries” that he also founded. Apparently, St. Francis was extremely charismatic, and it seemed quite easy for him to amass a great following of other men, along the way. And, of course, they eventually became the Franciscan Order.

Ms. Francke also does a fantastic job of retelling the many legends that surround the saint. Many of these are so fantastic that one wonders if they are true. I will reserve judgment on this, myself. I m not here to do that. I find myself to be inspired by the life of this great man, because of her writing in this book. I don’t necessarily aspire to live in poverty, as he did. But I can see myself adapting his perspective on ownership of things. Not to the point that I own nothing at all, as was true of Francis, but the willingness to give things away. Francis was notorious for giving away new tunics of cloaks almost immediately after receiving them from other well-meaning people.

Perhaps the most astonishing legend of all is the one regarding him receiving the stigmata of Christ at La Verna, which allegedly left him to finish out his life in great pain and weakness. I knew nothing of this legend before reading this book. 

Linda Bird Francke has left me with an appetite to learn more about St. Francis of Assisi, and for that I am grateful. I sincerely wish that I could follow their travel route, but seeing some of the hikes and climbs that they had to endure to get to some of these places makes me aware that, short of a miracle, that would be impossible. I will attempt, instead, to find as many visual representations as I can.

TTFN, y’all!

With Open Hands, by Henri J.M. Nouwen

Book number ten for 2024; 4/5 stars.

I got this book for Christmas, last year. I’m a fan of Henri Nouwen, and have been for quite some time. His style of writing is easy to read and yet, somehow, doesn’t lack depth. This is a very small book, weighing in at just over 120 pages, and those pages are rarely more than half-filled with text. The book is obviously presented as one that can be picked up and read at any time, without feeling like one needs to read it from cover to cover. That is, of course, what I did on this reading, but feel very likely that I will continue to pick it up and read it, almost randomly picking a spot, from day to day.

Nouwen presents prayer in a wonderful light in this book, beginning with the idea that, when we begin to pray, we much unclench our fists and have open hands. Hence the title of the book. Once the hands are unclenched, we move on to the beginning stages, where we understand the significance of silence in our prayer life.

Silence isn’t necessarily the absence of sound, and it certainly isn’t always peaceful. There are some kinds of silence that can be frightening. And anyone who has spent any time outside, in nature, knows that “silence” can be experienced even while hearing sounds of birds, wind, and rushing streams or creeks. More important is the ability to have inner silence when praying. This is a much bigger challenge.

From silence, we move on to acceptance. Praying with open hands means accepting our world as it is, and accepting God as He is. We become able to do more than just pray a list of wants, while leaving discouraged or disappointed if we don’t get what we pray for. Acceptance also means accepting gifts, both from God and from others. We have to get rid of the idea that accepting a gift obligates us. 

The book progresses from there, and I like how each chapter, each concept, builds on the previous one. The remaining chapters are Prayer and Hope, Prayer and Compassion, and the most challenging, Prayer and Prophetic Criticism, in which Nouwen challenges the reader to be willing to be openly critical of the world and society in which we live.

The book ends where it began, by discussing open hands. “In the end, a life of prayer is a life with open hands–a life where we are not ashamed of our weaknesses but realize that it is more perfect for us to be led by the Other than to try to hold everything in our own hands.”

TTFN, y’all!

Epiphany: The Season of Glory, by Fleming Rutledge

Book number 9 for 2024; 5/5 stars.

This is another volume in the Fullness of Time series from Intervarsity Press. I’m not 100% sure of the order that they are supposed to go in, but I figure, since they are following the Church calendar, Advent should be first, followed by Christmas, and then this one, Epiphany. And that’s the order I have read them in. It is my humble opinion that Fleming Rutledge has done a magnificent job of presenting “the season of glory.”

All of these books, so far, have blessed me tremendously. At this point, I am hard-pressed to pick a favorite between Epiphany and Advent. Each book has been organized differently, which is fine, considering they are all by different authors. I would say that I probably have learned the most from this one. For most of my life (at least the part where I even knew about Epiphany), I pretty much just thought of Epiphany as the day the wise men showed up at the house of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus. And while that day is the basis for the event, there is much more to it than that.

Many people don’t consider Epiphany a “season,” but I have come to think of it that way, myself, and Ms. Rutledge presents it in that way, as well. She highlights so much more, though, than the Magi visit. Included in this book are chapters about the baptism of Jesus, the transfiguration of Jesus, His first miracle, and the Sermon on the Mount (as well as the lesser known Sermon on the Plain). There are ten chapters, plus an introduction and conclusion, but the book finishes up at only 167 pages, so it’s not a long read. I basically read a portion of a chapter (sometimes the whole chapter) during my morning devotionals, beginning on January 6.

The last chapter takes us to what Fleming Rutledge calls “The Mission,” which is, of course, Jesus’s instructions to His disciples shortly before His Ascension. And conclusion, which she calls a “Coda,” consists of “Doxology,” which is fitting, because “doxa” is a word that occurs numerous times throughout the book. It is the Greek word for “glory,” and “doxology,” literally means “to speak glory.”

Extremely well-written, with plenty of research and notes, I highly recommend this little book for anyone looking to delve deeper into the mystery and beauty of the Church calendar and Epiphany.

TTFN, y’all!