Tom Clancy, Red Rabbit

In this 2002 installment in the Jack Ryan series, Clancy returns to Jack's early days in the CIA, after his run-in with the IRA in Patriot Games. In the hey day of the Cold War, with tensions in Eastern Europe rising, the new Pope, John Paul II, sends a letter threatening to renounce the papacy and return to Poland to shepherd his people who are buckling under communist rule. When word of his plans reaches Moscow, the politboro is concerned about destabilization in Poland that could spread across the Warsaw Pact. So Yuriy Andropov, the head of the KGB, sets a plan in motion to assassinate the Pope. Meanwhile, the CIA and the British SIS have gotten word of the letter, and are busy trying to guess the Soviets' next move.

As the Soviets' plans unfold, an operator in the signals section of the KGB (a person who transmit coded messages), Zaitzev, is overtaken by the weight of the messages he is translating. Even though as an operator he isn't supposed to have an opinion about the messages, isn't really supposed to read them, he can't be a party to the murder of an innocent man. On his commute home, he has been seeing a new American ride the train, and suspecting that he might be CIA, he slips him a note on the train. The American, Ed Foley, is in fact a CIA field agent, and a careful courtship begins. Zaitzev wants out for him and his family, and, to get such a well-placed agent, the CIA is willing to comply. The "Red Rabbit," that is a communist who wants to defect, is a valuable source of communications intelligence about a wide array of soviet intelligence, so a plan is put in motion to get him out of the country. The CIA brings the British SIS in on the plan, which is to have Zaitzev take a train to Warsaw and then smuggle him across the border into Yugoslavia. Ryan takes part in that little bit of the operation, as the CIA representative on the otherwise British-run phase of the operation. The exfiltration goes off without a hitch, and Ryan is amazed to learn of the plans to kill the pope, and he quickly relays the information to Washington.

But, that leaves the CIA in a precarious position, walking the fine line between using the intelligence they get and protecting the valuable source. In the end, it is decided that they can't notify the Vatican because the source needs protecting, but Zaitzev is able to identify the probable assassin, so the Brits dispatch a team to try thwart his plans, surmising that he will try kill the Pope during his weekly tour around St. Peter's square. Ryan goes along, and they scout out probable scenarios for the shooter. They find themselves in the square, and have spotted the shooter, but Jack realizes that he's not looking at the Pope, but somewhere else. Just then, shots erupt from nearby in the crowd. The Pope is shot, but only wounded, the shooter is captured, as is the Russian assassin, who was there to kill the assassin so his actions couldn't be traced back to Russia.

Red Rabbit is another interesting and enjoyable installment in the Jack Ryan saga, though Ryan is both on the periphery as well as at the center of the story. But the facet of the book that pulled the story together was the character of Zaitzev. His own struggles with the information he was transmitting, and with the whole Russian disregard for God made for an interesting character at the center of the plot and pulled the book together. It may not rank as one of Clancy's best, but it is still vintage Clancy.

Karl Barth, Epistle to the Philippians

This interesting little commentary is one of the few examples of Barth's theological exegesis as it is applied to an entire book systematically. It doesn't rival other more traditional commentaries as far as exegetical insight, but it contains a number of gems, and reflects a deep and sustained engagement with the text. Barth illumines a number of theological themes in the letter in his own distinctive way, and, as is reflected by citations of this book in many modern commentaries, certainly makes a contribution to the understanding of Philippians. I most thoroughly enjoyed his discussion of Phil 3:8-9 and the subject of faith and righteousness. This brief discussion alone is worth the price of the book. While I won't be consulting this little commentary first or most frequently in future studies of Philippians, I certainly won't neglect it either, especially when looking at those more theologically dense passages.

William Webb, Slaves, Women & Homosexuals

I think it is fair to say that hermeneutics, and specifically hermeneutics as it relates to cultural anaylsis, is one of the most pressing issues facing the church today. How we understand Scripture to relate to its original culture and how we appropriate it in our own culture is one of the issues that is driving our current era of church history. How we understand issues such as those surrounding women and homosexuals are very live and important questions in our day. And this is why I commend William Webb's book as highly as I possibly can. He addresses these issues by carefully probing the underlying hermeneutical questions with thoroughness and and an irenic and humble spirit.

Webb begins by laying out the Christian's challenge with regard to these issues, "It is necessar for Christians to challenge their culture where it departs from kingdom values; it is equally necessary for them to identify with their culture on all other matters" (22, italics in original). This is difficult because though Scripture contains both culture-bound and transcultural elements, these would have been nearly indistinguishable to its original readers. The challenge, then, is to live out the spirit of the text without being too inseparably bound to the "isolated words." For Webb, this means undertaking a "redemptive-movement hermeneutic" as opposed to a "static" hermeneutic.

A redemptive-movement hermeneutic seeks to assess the "movement" of a text relative to its original cultural setting. It then moves into our own day and seeks to retain the same direction of movement relative to our current culture in places where our cultural setting has gone beyond that of the original culture. An explicit component of this assessment is that the Bible doesn't only contain an "ultimate" ethic, but often contains provisions, laws, and instructions that entail only a "partially realized" ethic. It is worth taking a second to look at the reasons Webb outlines for this to be so, because I don't think this concept is one most readers of Scripture consciously ascribe to. Webb asserts that God often inspired a "partially realized" ethic (1) for pastoral reasons, to stretch his people as far as they could go without snapping; (2) for padagogical reasons, to help people move from the known to a foreseeable future with enough continuity so they can find their way; (3) for evangelistic reasons, thus reform was intended to better social structures without being so radical as to jeopardize other aspects of the Christian mission; (4) to sustain competing values, such as upholding temporary values in pursuit of associated goods, such as slavery in service of social welfare or patriarchy in service to gender differentiation; and (5) for soteriological resons, to to deal with a fallen and sinful humanity to whom reform does not come easiliy and move us in a process of progressive sanctification.

Throughout the book, Webb sustains an argument that, taking the presence of elements of both an ultimate and a provisional ethic within Scripture (and he certainly acknowledges the presence of an ultimate ethic in Scripture), we must undertake careful cultural analysis to determine what components of Scripture are culture-bound and which are transcultural. Once this is done, we seek to uphold the transcultural components and seek to live out the culture-bound components through a process of "redemptive movement" where we seek to follow the redemptive spirit within the text by reapplying that same spirit to our own culture. Let's follow a similar flow to Webb's own argument to flesh this out a bit.

Webb argues that the neutral example of slavery provides an important case study for understanding how a redemptive movement hermeneutic works. The culture of the Ancient Near East and of the Greco-Roman world upheld a structure of slavery. The Bible, written within this culture, reflects this setting, in that it assumes the general structure of slavery. There are no explicit texts or passages that speak directly to the need for the abolition of slavery (except perhaps for Gal 3:28 and parallels); there are, on the flip side, though, many texts that assume that slavery exists. But many of these texts reflect a "redemptive movement," that is, they demonstrate a limited but real movement away from the worst abuses of slavery toward better and more equal treatment of slaves. This movement, when coupled with the ultimate ethic in Scripture that acknowledges the equality of all people before God and the need to love neighbor as self, points toward the need for further movement beyond the movement accomplished in the OT or NT. Thus, as we live out the spirit of these texts, we appreciate our different cultural setting and seek to move closer to the unrealized ultimate ethic of abolition of slavery, and even beyond this toward fuller workplace and economic justice.

Webb takes this same process of analysis into his discussion of texts surrounding women. In that cultural analysis, through the use of eighteen different criteria, he assesses the culture-bound components of patriarchy, relating to economic, social, and practical concerns. This analysis includes a careful exposition of the pertinent New Testament texts in their cultural settings, as well as a thorough discussion of the relation between the testaments on this point, and especially of the role played by Genesis texts in the discussion. He then couples this with an investigation of the ultimate ethic present in scripture, and concludes that the Bible moves toward a complementary egalitarianism or an ultra-soft patriarchy.

The third issue Webb looks at throughout the book is that of homosexuality. This is important in two respects. First, it is important because it is a vital issue in its own right, and second, because it is often related either positively or negatively to discussion of issues regarding women, usually to rhetorical effect. Thus, importantly, Webb demonstrates that the two issues, both needing careful cultural analysis, demonstrate opposite movements within Scripture. Whereas the patriarchy texts evidence a positive movement toward egalitarianism, the homosexual texts consistently demonstrate an absolute movement away from freedom to complete prohibition, and this movement is to be carried over into our own culture, albeit slightly modified.

William Webb's book is often cited and quoted in studies surrounding these important and divisive issues, and this is with good reason. I wish I had read this book years ago, and have deeply appreciated his hermeneutical insights. He shows how to recognize a redemptive movement in Scripture that acknowledges and appreciates the spirit of the text without being too bound to the "isolated words," by which he means the words taken in isolation from their cultural and canonical context. He demonstrates a genuine faithfulness to Scripture and an intense pursuit of God's truth and God's desire for our lives here in the in-between time, while also demonstrating how to carefully move beyond the bare words of Scripture in those cases when it is bound to its cultural setting. I look forward to appropriating his insights in future study. I must say that I also deeply appreciated his humble and irenic tone. He openly acknowledged the areas of greatest weakness in his own case (even writing a "What If I Am Wrong?" chapter to lay bare and discuss these weaknesses and their bearing on his case), and also sought to acknowledge the strengths of his opponents positions and demonstrated charitable readings of opposing views. All the same, I think he also admirably shows the promise of careful cultural analysis for faithful application of Scripture, in a convincing assessment of the issues surrounding both homosexuality and women. I also hope at the very least that this book dismantles the arguments often bandied about that those who favor women in ministry are on the slippery slope to accepting homosexuality or that those who accept women in ministry must make this subsequent move, as Webb demonstrates how this is clearly not so.

In all, this book is a landmark study of hermeneutics especially as it bears on these important issues, and is a must read for those on all sides of these pressing discussions. Do not miss this book, and do not delay.

Ben Witherington, The Lazarus Effect

I loved this book. Biblical Scholar Ben Witherington and his wife Ann Witherington have put together a great, plausible work of fiction, and I enjoyed reading it. And further than that, I learned something.

Art West, a well-known biblical archaeologist, makes an astonishing discovery. In an unexcavated mound in Bethany, he finds the tomb of Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. In it is reference to Lazarus's first "resurrection" from the dead and his eventual death, as he awaits the second resurrection. Also discovered is an ancient manuscript of the Gospel of John in Aramaic, shedding important light on the origin and nature of that Gospel (Witherington, a Johannine scholar, makes some interesting points about dating and authorship). But before West can make the discovery known, he is trapped inside the tomb, and before he can show the discovery to the world, the tomb is robbed and the inscription is stolen. Thus begins a chase to find this astonishing piece of history amid doubts about its authenticity and among an interesting inter-religious setting in Jerusalem. West is aided by his Jewish friend and scholar Grace Levine, and by his Muslim friends Kahlil El Asad and his daughter Hannah, antiquities dealers in the old city. As the story moves forward the pace picks up as Art is framed for having a fake inscription made and also for shooting his friend Kahlil. With so many rumors swirling in such a volatile world, suspicion rests on Art, and he finds himself on trial for the killing and for the forgery. And more stories intertwine, as fundamentalist Christians and ultra-Orthodox Jews both see West as someone who is compromising the essentials of the faith. The complexity of the plot really helps to illumine the complexity of the real-life situation in modern Israel.

The Witheringons' book is a real page turner, with a great plot and interesting characters. But what sets it apart is both the plausibility of its events (Ben Witherington is an expert in the James ossuary, a real-life artifact of similar significance also fraught with suspicion) and the quality of its history. It is obvious that the authors know the Biblical world and modern Israel well, and they help the reader to feel some of the important dynamics between the various groups. They also bring a great glimmer of hope to the situation as the "Lazarus Effect"--new life from the dead--takes hold among many of the characters and brings hope in unexpected places. I think this book is a great read and would make a great gift.

Scot McKnight, The Blue Parekeet

Scot McKnight, well known blogger and author, challenges readers to think about how they read the Bible in this great little book. The challenge McKnight lays down to readers is to think about what it means to be "biblical" in our thinking, speaking, and acting. Though we may think we mean simply "doing what the Bible says," he shows us that for almost all of us, that is clearly not the case. Through some simple examples he shows that we all pick and choose what we apply and how. The question explored throughout the rest of the book, then, is why and how do we do this. He asserts that "adopting and adapting," a more positive spin on the phenomenon, is indeed the right way to read the Bible, as we seek to discern both how God spoke in the past and how God is speaking to us in our day in our way.

McKnight proposes a three-stage process in our reading and applying the Bible: Story, Listening, Discerning. The first case he sets out to make is that the Bible is fundamentally a Story, or more properly, a variety of retellings of the one Story: Creating Eikons; Cracked Eikons; Covenant Community; Christ, the Perfect Eikon, redeems; Consummation. That, in a nutshell (and in Scot's own distinctive terminology) is the story of the Bible. The 66 books of the Bible then make up "wiki-stories," retellings in often distinctive ways, with varying emphases and language in different times and settings, of this one overarching story. And here is one of McKnight's core assertions, these "wiki-stories" are tellings of God's truth "in Moses' days in Moses' ways . . . in David's days in David's ways . . . in Jeremiah's days in Jeremiah's ways . . . in Jesus' days in Jesus' ways . . . in Paul's days in Paul's ways . . ." He concludes that we are "called to carry on that pattern in our world today" (28). The key to this movement into our own days and ways is Story, as we recognize the story and its retellings in the Bible and seek to enter into that same story in our day.

The second section of the book takes up the second stage in our reading and applying the Bible: Listening. McKnight emphasizes that we listen to the Bible because we have a relationship with the God of the Bible. That relationship forms the ground and purpose of our reading and listening. He seeks to get past abstract discussions of the Bible's authority, past having a "view" of the Bible, as legitimate as these things may be, to focus on having "a 'relationship' to the God of the Bible" (95). This understanding then shapes our listening, as we listen attentively to and for God, we are attentive in recognizing God speaking, we absorb what God says and we act on what we hear (99). This puts a helpful emphasis on the way the Bible must shape us as we listen. We aren't just mining the Bible for "truth" or theology but we are encountering God speaking to us, and must act and react accordingly.

The third stage we encounter is Discerning. After we have recognized the story in the text and have listened attentively to God speaking through his Word, we must discern our part in the story, we must discern what we are then to do. Here he argues that the "adopt and adapt" strategy that all Christians implicitly or explicitly espouse is in fact the right idea. We must recognize that "that was then and this is now." But this is not simply a personalistic anything goes reading of Scripture, but is a discerning, with (as opposed to through) tradition, in community. We need to recognize that the Bible itself points toward a strategy of discernment, and that the church has likewise passed on this legacy of a "pattern of discernment" (118). McKnight acknowledges the messiness of the process, and that it means there will be disagreements. But, he writes, "it is the attempt to foist one person's days and ways on everyone's days and ways that quenches the Holy Spirit" (143). It is because of the gospel that we strive to adapt, just as Paul says in 1 Corinthians 9. We, like Paul, should be governed by what furthers the gospel the most (142). Thus, "Living out the Bible means living out the Bible in our day in our way by discerning together how God would have us live" (143, italics in original).

These three stages sketch McKnight's proposal for how we should approach and appropriate the Bible in our own day. The fourth part of the book provides an extended case study in this method, using the question of women in ministry as an example of "adopting and adapting." In this fourth part, he lays out a careful argument, beginning with what women did in the Old and New Testament times and in the Early Church, and with what the Bible says about women and ministry. He looks at how we can recognize the cultural distance between these past times and our own, but also focuses on how we can recognize the "story" in the Bible that spoke powerfully in past days and again in our own. Through this process, he makes the argument that discerning God speaking in the story of the Bible and discerning how God would have us act today, with a focus on the message of the gospel, leads to the full participation of women in the life and ministry of the church.

I thoroughly enjoyed this very readable introduction to how we read and apply the Bible. I have no doubt that almost all Christians could benefit from a book like this, as all too often we assume that we're being "biblical" without recognizing the complexities involved in our own positions. This little primer on hermeneutics is a great way for people in the pews to begin to come to terms with these important issues. But, importantly, this isn't a cause for consternation but for hope. Instead of being paralyzed by fear of the messiness of discernment, we should be energized by the gospel and our part in the story as we acknowledge the God of the Bible speaking to us even down to our own day. This book is clearly at an introductory level, as McKnight acknowledges along the way, but I think it agreeably whets the appetite for further study into these important questions. And I think it is a helpful introduction into the Bible as "Story," as we recognize the great divine drama into which we are called. I also enjoyed his case study on women in ministry. His arguments and his own personal journey make for very compelling reading. I think he shows beyond doubt that the church, at the very least, has restricted women beyond even the restrictions they faced in New Testament times, and he points toward a fuller inclusion of women in all areas of the church. While he obviously doesn't engage with the vast array of scholarship or the serious technical issues involved in the debate, his case study provides a great "egalitarian" introduction into the debate.

In all, I think McKnight's Blue Parakeet is an important guide to seeing the Bible as it really is and to recognize how we do and how we should read and apply it.

Robert Ludlum, The Sigma Protocol

In The Sigma Protocol, Ludlum puts wealthy financier Ben Hartman and federal agent Anna Navarro on the chase of an elusive world-wide conspiracy. It all begins with a string of seemingly unconnected deaths of men in their eighties. Each death in itself seems normal enough, but there seems to be some connection, and Agent Navarro is enlisted to prove they are in fact murders and to try find the killers. All she is given is a list of names, including a number of the murdered men and the names of a couple who cannot be located. Ben, meanwhile, finds himself the target of a strange assassination attempt while he is in Zurich, and ends up on the run, though he doesn't know from whom. Anna's and Ben's paths eventually intertwine, as they discover they are in pursuit of the same elusive foe.

Sigma, it turns out, is a corporation that was started in the closing day of WW II, by a group of industrialists from around the world, men on both sides of the great conflict. In the years following the war, this secret corporation wields enormous power over the affairs of the world. But it is all with a sinister end in sight, as Ben and Anna discover. Sigma is headed by Jürgen Lenz, son of the famed Gerhard Lenz, one of the doctors in the Nazi regime famous for his experiments on children during the war. Lenz and Sigma are working on an anti-aging formula, and behind their legitimate front, they are continuing Lenz's WW II experiments, with the goal of producing a chemical that will prolong the lives of important members of society, such as politicians, leaders of industry, scholars, and scientists, with the goal of bettering society by allowing these people more productive years to make use of their experience. But the anti-aging serum comes at great cost, as it must be harvested from the brains of children. So Sigma has been kidnapping and killing children, mostly from war zones and other underprivileged areas, to make their drug. In the mean time, Sigma has been killing older members of its board who are not of the same mind about this course of affairs.

Anna and Ben eventually uncover this plot, and come face to face with Jürgen Lenz, who they soon discover is really Gerhard Lenz, the WW II scientist, who has been one of the first test subjects of his own drug. They are able, with a little help from Ben's father and one of the original founders of Sigma Max Hartman, to foil Lenz's plan and narrowly escape with their lives.

The Sigma Protocol was an interesting read, and it had some really great stretches, though it dragged in places. I also found the eventual solution to be quite a bit far fetched. The idea that there is one meta-corporation manipulating world markets and events from behind the scenes stretches plausibility, as does the killing of thousands of children a year to make a drug to halt and reverse aging. Overall, I'd say it's not a bad book, though I hope to discover that other Ludlum books make for better reading.

F. LeRon Shults, Reforming the Doctrine of God

In Reforming the Doctrine of God, LeRon Shults takes a sustained look at theology proper, but he does it with an important contemporary twist. Shults asserts that theology must be done as a "messy reciprocity between our ideas about God and everything else" (12). That is, theology is (inevitably) conditioned by our understanding of the world, just as it conditions that same understanding. It is with this basic insight in mind that he sets out to reform the doctrine of God.

Why reform? The reason, as laid out in the first part of the book, is because too much of theology has been inextricably linked with outmoded philosophical categories that see God as immaterial substance, single subject, and first cause. These categories, he asserts, lead to problems with our thinking about God that are created more by the categories than by the reality they seek to illuminate. In the second part of the book, Shults looks at a number of "late modern" trends that can prove as resources to reinvigorate our thinking about God by overcoming some of the philosophical barriers of modern thinking. Specifically, he looks at divine infinity, the trinity, and eschatological ontology as three important streams of thought that are reshaping how we think of God.

In this review, I'm not going to try to expound either of these parts in detail, for a couple of reasons. First, and probably most important, philosophical theology is not my own specialty, and I fear any summary I give would only distort his points, rather than illuminating them. Second, he draws on a broad range of streams of modern and late modern thought in his critiques and constructions, and a concise summary would not do them justice, especially if you aren't already familiar with his subjects. But, a few comments will hopefully give at least some insight in to where he is going.

Shults demonstrates, successfully, I think, that some of the classic dilemmas in theology, such as how God works in the world or how divine sovereignty and human freedom are compatible, are at least in part caused by assumptions and categories that are foreign to the Bible. His second point, worked out in part two, is that many late modern thinkers have begun to rethink some of these basic assumptions and have collectively reclaimed some important ways of thinking about God that have been too often lost or diminished in modern theological thinking. And in each chapter he surveys a number of important thinkers from a variety of perspectives, such as Karl Barth, Jürgen Moltmann, Wolfhart Pannenberg, and John Zizioulas, to show the sources and contours of these important developments. The three streams that are recovered focus on God's infinity (God is more than just "extensively" greater than creatures but is genuinely "other"), trinity (God is not a single substance or mind but is dynamic relationality in himself), and futurity (God relates to time not only as its originator but as its upholder and as its future hope and consummation). All of this is helped by what he calls a "turn to relationality" in philosophy, with a movement away from a more substance-based view of reality to the acknowledgment as relationship or relationality as basic to the constitution of what it means to be person.

It is in part three that the the real "reforming" takes place, as Shults seeks to rebuild the doctrine of God through a critical appropriation of many of the late modern trajectories into a constructive exposition of theology. He looks at God's knowing, acting, and being through the themes of omniscient faithfulness, omnipotent love, and omnipresent hope. As with the first two parts, I won't try to recreate the flow of his argument. Instead, I want to note that he takes head on three of the thorny (and fascinating) issues that confront theology, the "antinomies" of divine foreknowledge, divine predestination, and divine timelessness. In each case, he surveys the state of the discussion and proposes a way forward that liberates the discussion from the classic categories that create the problems in the first place. In each case, I found his proposals to be insightful and liberating while remaining true to the core biblical insights that provide the foundation for the discussions. Just these three discussions are easily worth the price of the book, but I think the book's greatest value is that the "solutions" to these three problems point toward a richer and more dynamic doctrine of God.

I read the whole third part of this book with growing appreciation and excitement, and I look forward to delving in to Shults's other books and seeing how his vision plays out across the various ares of theology. But I know that the groundwork laid here is deeply valuable. It certainly struck a chord with me both in its freshness and its faithfulness. I look forward to rereading these final chapters again as I reflect on who God is and how we think of him. This book is highly recommended, though it certainly contains a lot of technical language. It is at times a rather difficult read, but it will repay a careful reading. For anyone who is interested in contemporary evangelical theology, this book is essential reading, and is a profound example of a vibrant and delightful investigation and appreciation of who God is.

Allan Coppedge, The God Who Is Triune

In The God Who Is Triune, subtitled Revisioning the Christian Doctrine of God, Coppedge undertakes a systematic exposition of the doctrine of God. The key to the book, though, as its title makes clear, is that Coppedge draws on the triunity of God as the key for his reconstruction. The book opens with two chapters laying out the New Testament evidence, larger biblical "frame," and early theological developments toward understanding God as triune, making a case that understanding God as three in one and one in three, as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, is essential to understanding who God is. He then goes on to construct a fuller doctrine of God, covering the classic themes of God's attributes, creation, and providence, but he does it all after laying the trinitarian groundwork and in light of these fundamental insights. This makes Coppedge's book a valuable contribution to the field.

Coppedge's material on the Trinity is very well done, and I think he lays out very clearly and helpfully the essentials necessary for constrcting a theology of the Trinity. He shows much sympathy toward an Eastern approach to the Trinity that starts more from God's threeness and goes on to assert God's unity, though he also shows sympathies toward the more Western, Augistinian approach of starting from God's unity. Overall, though, this Eastern trend helps give the trinitarian drama to his whole presentation, as it keeps the vibrant interrelational life of God center stage as moves on to discuss God's being and attributes and God's relation to creation.

One of the defining insights of the book is that a Trinitiarian starting point means that when one moves to discussing God, the traditional four categories of attributes are still discussed--personal, moral, relative, and absolute--but they are approached in a different order. Coppedge begins with God's personal attributes (discussing attributes such as God's social nature, life, heart, moral capacity, freedom, creativity, and responsibility) and moral attributes. Only then does he move on to God's relative and absolute attributes. This means that God's sociality, will, freedom, and righteousness come before and exercise a controling role over attributes such as omnipotence. The result of this is that a picture of a vibrant, alive, relating God comes to the fore. This doesn't lessen God's glory or holiness, or diminish God's transcendence, but it means that who God is isn't lost in discussions of what God is capable of. Instead of focusing on God's being in himself, with a focus on God's unity as the omnipotent and omnipresent being above and beyond the universe one meets God as Father, Son, and Spirit, forever relating as living, loving, active beings who come to meet us in holiness and invite us to enter into their trine life. That, to me, is the refreshing aspect of this book. The Doctrine of God doesn't become abstract philosophical discussions about categories of being, though it does contain that, but it focuses instead on God as he makes himself known in a personal way. The focus is thereby supremely on God as made known in Jesus Christ, who becomes the key for our understanding of who God is.

I found Coppedge's expositon of the entire doctrine of God based on a trinitarian starting point to be supremely helpful. It helps to illumine all of theology by adding a relational element to God's very existence. It also points Coppedge (a Weslyan) toward an understanding of providence and freedom that entails God inviting human persons to enter into genuine relations with God and each other in true freedom. In short, I think it is one of the most helpful defenses I have read of a Weslyan (that is, essentially an Arminian) understanding of providence and free will, drawing as it does on God's very nature as the ground for its theological reasoning.

I highly recommend this book as a great resource on the doctrine of the Trinity, but more than that, I think it is essential reading for an example of how Trinity matters to all of Christian life and thought, instead of being a mere appendix to the doctrine of God to set it apart from other non-Christian expositions of theism. Not only did I benefit from it, but I enjoyed reading it. And further more, I was drawn closer to God through it, by being reminded that God isn't an amorphous being up there but is instead chooses to be known as Father, Son, and Spirit: in short, God lets us know who he is, and that's a lot more intimate than focusing on what or that God is.

I. Howard Marshall, New Testament Theology

I. Howard Marshall is one of the most distinguished evangelical New Testament scholars of the past twenty-five years. And the adjective "evangelical" is not necessary to make that statement true: he stands tall in any scholarly company. His work has been devoted to the documents of the New Testament, from Luke-Acts to the Pastoral Epistles, with many important works of biblical theology as well. This work, New Testament Theology, is clearly the fruit of his long career.

First, a word about general format. Marshall begins with an introduction about the nature of New Testament theology. He then proceeds systematically through the documents of the New Testament, with periodic breaks for synthesis and comparison. He sums up the theology of the Synoptics and Acts, for example, before proceeding to Paul, and after discussing the Pauline corpus document by document, he synthesizes Paul's letters and then proceeds to carefully compare the theology of Paul's letters to the theology of the synoptics and Acts, and so on throughout the collections of literature that make up the New Testament. In each book, Marshall begins with some introductory comments about the book, it's setting, authorship, etc. He then tells the "theological story" of the book by moving chunk by chunk through each book, dealing with the major teaching units and their content. After moving through the book this way, he synthesizes the theology by approaching the book's content in a more theologically organized way, looking at things like "God the Father" or "Spiritual Gifts" or the like. This allows the book's theology to speak to itself, but also helps the book's theology to speak toward the categories of systematics and helps piece together an author's theological perspective.

I have really enjoyed reading this book, and though I haven't yet read it cover to cover, everything I've read has been well informed and uniformly excellent. I have also really enjoyed his synthesis and comparison articles, such as the article dealing with the synoptics and acts in relation to Paul, which help to explore some of the really important and pressing issues that are often so formative to a New Testament theology. I also really enjoyed his article on the theology of the Pauline letters. His synthesis was concise and clear, bringing out important themes. He is certainly conversant in the latest developments in Pauline studies, but defends a very balanced approach. He also deals delicately but effectively with the "authorship" questions by synthesizing Paul's earlier theology of the undisputed letters and then discussing the data from the disputed (and almost uniformly considered to be later if genuine) epistles in relation to this basic formulation. This allows the later letters to modify and support the undisputed letters without making authorship a stumbling block to the whole enterprise.

In short, this is a great book that I highly recommend. Marshall's writing is clear and learned, and this book has proven to be both good reading and an essential reference work.

Nicholas Perrin, Lost in Translation?

Do the words of Jesus that we see in our Bibles today resemble the words that were actually spoken two millenia ago? Or have the Bible's authors, copyists, and translators played fast and loose with them? Bart Ehrman, in his book, Misquoting Jesus, makes a case for the (often systematic) corruption of Jesus' words and of the whole text of the Bible from the earliest times on down to the present. For him, the Bible isn't trustworthy: Jesus words and those of the earliest apostles have been lost in transmission. It is into this discussion that Nicholas Perrin, professor of NT at Wheaton College, enters with this new book.

Let me start by saying that this book is decidedly not academic, by design. Perrin, a NT scholar, could certainly mount academic responses to Ehrman and others on these issues, and other authors have in fact done so. Perrin, on the other hand, seeks to both respond in a way that can be understood, but more than that he seeks to put forth a compelling vision of what our New Testament is and why it's worth paying attention to. This whole discussion is encased in a testimony of sorts, as Perrin talks about his own upbringing and his first exposures to the Bible. His journey of discovery makes a great storyline within which these issues can be explored.

I recommend this book quite highly. He makes a lot of current research in a number of areas, from Jesus studies to textual criticism, highly understandable. His chapters on Jesus and his Jewishness are worth the price of the book, and his summary of the quests for the "historical" Jesus is one of the clearest I've read. Beyond that, he also (selectively and rather quickly by design) refutes a number of Ehrman's central points, and, probably more important, points toward more fruitful lines of inquiry and more authentic approaches to questions of the Bible's integrity.

Perrin's work is full of insights, such as the important assertion that Jesus intended his words be remembered by his disciples, and that, in their Jewish context, it is highly plausible that they would have done so with care. He also makes clear that God chose to impart his revelation into a human context and process, deeming it a sufficient and appropriate vehicle for the intended message. We shouldn't necessarily expect a wooden, flawless, perfect textual tradition, and this fact doesn't lessen the power of God's revelation or diminish it's call on us. In the end, he concludes that "even if that transmission [of Jesus' words] was less than completely perfect, it was faithful" (187). This book has clearly done a service to the church in making some of these discussions accessable. If these are issues that interest you, this book is a great place to start.

Stephen Westerholm, Perspectives Old and New on Paul

Pauline studies have been an interesting and contested field for the past thirty years or so. Even the most fundamental tenets of Paul's theology have been brought into question. Central to the debate has been the question of whether the "Lutheran" reading of Paul and his gospel, which has held sway in the West since the 16th century (or the 4th if you go back to Augustine), is faithful to the essence of Paul's preaching or whether it distorts Paul's intent.

Westerholm, in this spectacular book, provides a great entry point into the debates, careful analysis of the various positions, and a clear, mature assessment of Paul and the modern debates about him. I think this book provides an ideal starting point for people who want to get the lay of the land in current study about Paul, while also interacting (mostly in the notes) with these positions. He then, with surprising humor and wit, puts forth one of the clearest statements I've ever read concerning how Paul understood "law," "righteousness," and "justification by faith." Westerholm brings in the best of the "new perspective on Paul," taking into account a fuller understanding of the Jewish backdrop of Paul's writings and a fuller account of Paul's own thinking on these matters, while also showing that the essential core of the "Lutheran" Paul, especially when augmented and corrected at points, helps present a full and accurate view of Paul's thinking.

I cannot recommend this book highly enough. It is very well written, surveys the most important historical figures in the debate, the most important current contributions, both for and against the "Lutheran" Paul (with frequent use of their own words, so that each author's own flavor and emphasis comes out), and then brings this all together with a great presentation of Paul's thought. His work on the role of the law, summed up in nine theses in chapter 19, is especially good. I hope you enjoy this book as much as I did. It has given me a grasp of all of these issues and debates, and a grasp of Paul's own thinking, that seemed almost too elusive to grasp before.

Ben Witherington, Paul's Letter to the Romans (with Darlene Hyatt)

Ben Witherington is one of the most prolific New Testament scholars writing today, and he brings a great volume of learning to the texts. In this book, a "socio-rhetorical" commentary, he takes a careful look at Paul's letter to the Romans, paying special attention to the social setting of Paul and his readers, and also analyzing carefully Paul's rhetorical structure and flow. These two emphases make this book a bit different than many commentaries, in that they bring out these two facets of the text, but I think this makes his book the stronger for it. This well-written commentary does justice to this very important and theological letter, discussing the many important issues of interpretation, all the while keeping Paul's "rhetorical strategy" in view. This helps, in my estimation, to help keep sight of the forest among the trees, by placing particular verses and passages within the larger narrative flow, to help see the relations between the passages and their role in supporting his main argument or countering possible objections. This, in turn, helps keep Paul's main idea always in view.

Witherington, with the help of doctoral student Darlene Hyatt, also adds "Bridging the Horizons" sections that illumine applications of texts and themes to our modern day, a very helpful addition. It is certainly not a comprehensive "application" section, but it demonstrates one possible direction one could go when looking at a particular text, and some of them prove quite insightful.

Overall, I think this is a great book on Romans. Witherington's Methodist leanings certainly show through, as do any commentators, but I think this provides a refreshing, non-Reformed and non-Lutheran take on this letter that is still very balanced and seems to take into account Paul's major points with ease. While not the only book one could or should read on Romans (I'm sure there is no such thing), this book is a worthy addition to a library and makes for very good reading.

Pete Maravich and Darrel Campbell, Heir to a Dream

This little book is an autobiography (with some help) by one of college basketball's greatest players ever. Pistol Pete Maravich helped to transform the game into today's fast-paced run-and-gun style, and beyond his playmaking abilities, he was an almost unparalleled shooter. His college points records still stand. He averaged over 44 points per game in his college career, and the next closest player is still only at 34 points per game. That's domination.

But this book is about so much more than basketball. Maravich starts with his dad, recounting his discovery of basketball when it was still a young game, and his growing love for the sport, first as a player but then even more as a coach. When he had a son, it only seemed natural to teach him this same love for the game, and thus, Pete's obsession with basketball was born. He haunted the high school and college courts where his dad coached, and ultimately played for his dad at LSU, where they both shined. But Maravich recounts how his life off the court was one of recklessness and irresponsibility. He shunned the idea of being a role model, and his drinking and partying was a constant problem, even costing LSU a shot at the NIT championship when Pete stayed up the whole night before a big game partying.

Pete's despair continued as he played in the NBA, first for Atlanta, then for the New Orleans Jazz (who later moved to Utah; the name made so much more sense in Louisiana!), and last for the Boston Celtics. His whole life was basketball. He lived and breathed it, always in search of a championship. But a championship was never to be. Instead, he spent his professional career butting heads with his teammates, always seeking acceptance and adulation that never seemed to come. In the end, he walked away after the preseason of his second season with the Celtics, feeling like he wasn't getting enough playing time and appreciation--the team went on to win the championship that year.

Basketball had been pretty much all Pete knew or cared about. His marriage to Jackie, who wasn't a basketball fan, kept him grounded to at least some limited extent, but once he left the game, he realized that it had been pretty much all he had. This began an important search for him, to discover what life is really all about, because it certainly wasn't basketball. It was then, into this emptiness and helplessness, that someone spoke about Christ. Maravich came to accept Jesus into his life, and was overwhelmed by the purpose and hope that is found in realizing that you aren't the center of the universe and of discovering life's true purpose and meaning.

This simple little book made a great story about basketball, but also proves a nice refreshing reminder of the beauty and coherence and joy that come with knowing Jesus Christ. For me, it is something I too often take for granted, but it is always nice to be reminded about the joy of salvation and the peace that it brings.

Lee Child, The Enemy

Jack Reacher is a maverick. He is an elite Military Police officer in the Army. And on New Year's Eve, he finds himself suddenly reassigned to Fort Bird, with no explanation. The next day, he gets a call that a general, who was passing through the area on his way to a meeting at Fort Irwin, was found dead in a hotel room, apparently of a heart attack while sleeping with a prostitute. While this doesn't start off as too mysterious, hours later the General's wife is found murdered during an apparently burglary attempt at their home in Georgia. And Reacher notices that the General's briefcase is missing. His investigation starts to turn up some strange patters, like that Military Police officers all over the Army were mysteriously reassigned at the same time as Reacher. Something must be afoot. Two days later, a Delta officer, Carbone, is found dead on the base, and another Delta officer is found murdered and dumped a couple hundred miles away. Something must be going on. And seems to all stem from the briefcase.

Reacher, under some suspicion himself from the Delta troops and meeting fierce resistance from his newly appointed commanding officer, wings around the globe trying to track down this odd conspiracy, which seems to all stem from the briefcase's contents, whatever they are. The only thing that seems to be missing is the agenda for the meeting at Fort Irwin, but the General's two subordinates insist there was no agenda (which Reacher sees as a near impossibility for the Army). Reacher and his partner, Summer, are forced to sneak throughout the East Coast and even hop over to Germany on stolen travel vouchers (and officially AWOL thanks to their commanding officer) trying to bring the truth to light. It comes out the the sordid plot was part of a power play on the part of some officers from Armored Division to take out strategic elements in other branches of the Army to set themselves up as a more powerful faction in the changing landscape of the army in the new post-Cold War world (the book, written in 2004, takes place in 1990). General Kramer was involved in a homosexual affair with Carbone, and when he died of a heart attack, Carbone apparently discovered the agenda for the Irwin meeting, which involved the plot to kill Delta soldiers among others. Carbone took the agenda, and called his commanding officer (thus, they were the two Delta soldiers killed by Kramer's subordinates, try to cover up the meeting's agenda). Kramer's wife was also collateral damage, as they were searching his house for his briefcase when it wasn't found with the body.

Child's book is a relatively good read, and the mystery certainly proved to be a complicated and sordid plot that I wouldn't have guessed at the outset, even if it proves to be quite far-fetched. The biggest flaw in my opinion has to do with the main character, Reacher. He makes an interesting protagonist, with his maverick ways and his desire to get to the bottom of things at all costs. But he proves to be unscrupulous and vindictive to a fault. He flouts authority, and, most damningly, coldly executes his superior officer at the end of the book, believing him to have been part of the plot. Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan makes such a great main character because of his honor, his "boy scout" character, that means doing the right thing even when it means trouble for himself, always believing right would win out, even when it seemed improbable. Reacher is quite a contrast, doing whatever it takes to get the outcomes he wants.

Ray Bradbury, Farenheit 451

In Ray Bradbury's classic, Farenheit 451, he describes a terrifying but all-too-real world of sensory overload and thought-depravity. Guy Montag is a fireman, but this fire brigade doesn't put out fires (for houses are fire proofed with plastic coatings), but instead starts them, burning houses (and often people) where books are found. And people, for the most part, don't question the way of things; in fact, most people simply contributed to them, reading less and less, being less and less interested in dissenting views and complex views of reality. Instead people opt for graphic novels filled with sex, and talking "parlors," living rooms with televisions on three (and sometimes four) walls that surround the viewer in a virtual reality that becomes family, friends, entertainment, and knowledge. There is no taking walks, no late evening chats on the front porch; in short, little or no thought. But Guy slowly emerges from the haze of this contrived reality, as he first encounters a strange girl who doesn't seem to be charmed by the way things are, and then comes to see his own duties as a fireman as brutal and senseless. Didn't firemen used to actually put out fires? he wonders.

Montag, now repulsed by his occupation, starts looking for a way out. And on the way, he begins slipping books into his coat as he is burning houses, one here, one there, until he's got his own little library. But soon his captain, Beatty, is on to him, and the mechanical hound, the instrument of doom and seeker of people and books, finds him out. Montag is left with the choice, burn his own house or admit guilt. He starts his house ablaze, but then turns the flame thrower on Beatty and on the mechanical hound and makes a break for it. He is now a man on the run, but a free man for the first time. He finds himself among a group of run-aways along a deserted railroad track, and discovers they are former professors and preachers, and each one holds inside him a chapter or a book. One is Thoreau, one is Marcus Aurelius, one is Plato's Repulic, and so on. Montag is the book of Ecclesiastes. And as their civilization seems to be spiraling toward an end in a huge and destructive war, the wisdom of that great book, that everything has a time and a season, seems a pointer to the possibility of a new reality, a fresh start.

Bradbury's Farenheit 451 is a prophetic novel that bears freightening resemblance to our world today. Our culture resembles the reality he paints in its obsession with virtual reality (think "reality TV" and our obsession with this fictive family or friend network, as just one examle), media saturation, and shallowness. Our politics are driven by sound bites and media experts more than they are driven by policy positions and reasoned debates. Marketing is more important than product quality. And this is just the beginning. Reading Bradbury's classic is like a wake-up call to appreciate the wisdom of the ages, the beauty of friendships, the value of family, and the wonder that is a quiet walk in the woods. It is truly a treasure trove of reality, all tinged with the hope redemption.

Tony Hillerman, The First Eagle

I have long been a lover of Tony Hillerman stories. I enjoy the cultural landscape that surrounds his mysteries, and appreciate the cultural tensions in which his characters struggle and flourish. This book displays that same depth with the same quality mystery that typifies Hillerman's work. Now, his writing is as deep as P. D. James, but that's okay. Jim Chee and Joe Leaphorn are two good main characters, and they again put their detecting skills to work to solve a murder and a disappearance. Chee is a Lieutenant with the Navajo Tribal Police and Leaphorn is a recently reteired Lieutenant. These long time partners find themselves working on the same case, with Chee investigating the murder of fellow Tribal Officer Kinsman while Leaphorn is working as a PI to investigate the mysterious disappearance, around the same time and place as the murder, of a vector control officer studying a recent case of Bubonic Plague.

Chee was the first one on the scene of Kinsman's murder, and captured a suspect literally "red handed." But his former fiance and defense attorney for the accused, Janet Pete, insists that there's more than meets the eye. The mystery takes the two all across the desert southwest, and into the world of vector control and research into contagious disease. As they figure out that Cathy Pollard has disappeared in the same vicinity and at the same time as the murder, they must figure out if and how the two events are related. Is she a suspect? Another victim? An unrelated disappearance.

This book is vintage Hillerman, and I enjoyed it. It made me yearn for the southwest, and if gas wasn't so expensive I'd hit the road for Santa Fe or Albuquerque to take in some sopapillas and some desert scenery.

Brad Meltzer, The First Council

White House lawyer Michael Garrick finds himself going out with the first daugher, Nora Hartson. A thrill-seeking and irresistable twenty-something, she proves to be an interesting date. After losing their secret-service escort, Nora and Michael find themselves in a shady bar in the heart of urban DC, where they witness the head White House lawyer, Simon, make a clandestine meet, and after following him, discover he has dropped off a large quantity of cash. The two suspect some shady dealings, but things quickly pick up momentum. The next morning, Michael discovers that Simon has accused Michael of being the one who had the money. This strange turn leads to many more, as suspicion quickly turns to Michael, and also to Nora, as their relationship meanwhile continues to deepen. The book chronicles a high-stakes chase across DC as Michael works to find out what that money was all about, and to keep himself out of the line of fire and out of the papers. The twists keep coming in this devilish power struggle, as Michael tries to defend his honor and protect the first daughter. The resolution is a bit of a twist, as things all come crashing down through the ceiling of the Indian Treaty Room of the Old Executive Office building.

Meltzer's book makes for a good fast-paced read (or, in my case listen). While not entirely plausible as far as the actual inner workings of the government at the highest levels like a Clancy, or the grand legal thriller of a Grisham, it weaves elements of both together in a fun little tale of intrigue.

John Grisham, Playing for Pizza

In Playing for Pizza, Grisham returns to the genre of literature he explored in his earlier book, Bleachers. Like that book, football provides the backdrop. In this delightful little book, Rick Dockery, a struggling NFL quarterback near the end of his short and abortive career finds himeslf heading off to Italy to play American Football after a disastrous performance in a big playoff game for the Cleveland Browns (he was the third string quarterback, and came in after a couple injuries and threw away a big lead with three interceptions).

Dockery, even though he is pretty low on the NFL totem pole, and now even lower by blowing the big game, is still a pretty big shot in the sports world, being an NFL quarterback. He's used to finding places to play, people that want him on their team, all while waiting for his big break into the big time. His career is the big goal. But that vision slowly erodes away on him as he finds himself with no offers to play. His agent finally finds him this spot in the very obscure league in Italy and convinces Dockery to take it. Needless to say, it's a big change, playing in a converted rugby stadium, often in front of less than one thousand fans. But the Italians are excited to have him. The Parma team hasn't ever won the "Super Bowl" of Italy, and sorely wants to. Each team is allowed three American players, but during the course of the short season, the other two Americans for the Parma team leave, and Rick is left to make the best of the season. His performances have been pretty good, but he will need to step it up, as will the whole team, to win the Super Bowl.

Rick meets an American girl, Lilly, who is in Italy studying art and avoiding her familiy, and the two of them take up together. Rick is forced to explore the country with her, and also forced to open up to another human being.

Turning down an offer to return to Canada to play pro ball, Rick buckles down and diligently works with Sam to come up with a plan for a winning season. And his performances continue to improve. He goes from treating the Parma Panthers as the small time to putting all his energy behind his team, and it makes a big difference for the team, and for him. A trimphant Super Bowl win caps his transformation on and off the field, and we are with Rick planning to stay on in Italy for another year, content with where he is at.

Thought this book is a departure from Grisham's usual thrillers, it has the stamp of his quality pacing and interesting characters. His colorful pictures of Italy provide a great backdrop for this nice little tale of a troubled kid who explores the world outside his glitzy and self-centered NFL life. It's a great read and makes me want to spend a month in the Italian countryside. Someday.

Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer

In the spirit of summer, I recently reread Twain's classic tale of childhood, Tom Sawyer. The classic episodes like Tom convincing friends to pay him for the privilege of whitewashing his aunt's fence to showing up at his own funeral to being trapped in a cave truly convey the joy and adventure of childhood. From one idea to the next, Tom's world of dreams and his superstitious and clearly warped sense of reality make for great entertainment. And of course, the witnessing of murder, the pursuit of treasure, the honorable exoneration of an innocent man, the chase by Indian Joe, and the triumphant discovery of hidden treasure make for quite a plot. It's hard to imagine better summer reading. If you haven't picked up this book for a while, give it a shot. You'll remember why it is truly a classic.

William P. Young, The Shack

I've been very slow posting since we just finished moving and have been getting settled, but I'm finally trying to catch up on some books I've finished recently. The first is The Shack. This book has become quite well known, and I dare say notorious, over the past weeks, and there's been a lot of discussion on the Web about it: it's theological underpinnings, it's quality as literature, etc. Because it has been so much talked about, I won't either summarize the plot or give a detailed theological critique. Both of those things have been undertaken elsewhere. What I will do, though, is give a brief appreciation of this great little book.

I think Young has written a powerful and imaginative tale dealing with important questions many Christians wrestle with, especially concerning justice and suffering. I love his imaginative portrayal of the Trinity as Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu. Though I think what has been said elsewhere does ring true: this isn't a systematic theology text, it is fiction, so it shouldn't be expected to fully and completely flesh out the doctrine of the Trinity. But I think it does illumine one great element of it: the tri-personal nature of God and the beauty of the interrelation between the persons. God's unity may get a little neglect in this portrayal, but I think that is okay, especially because modern Christians seem to have no problem with the oneness of God, but often neglect the Trinitarian tri-personality. That said, I also think the main thrust of the book is spectacular in it's power to confront the reader with the deep questions of suffering, tragedy, and trust. I know for me, it was especially convicting to be reminded that it was only in believing that God is really good that I could really trust him. The insight seems so simple, but its presentation made it profound.

In all, I do highly recommend this little book. It's certainly not perfect, but I am convinced that it can be a powerful story of God's love and grace. And, hopefully it will insight curiosity and interest in the deeper theological issues it touches on.

Ken Follett, The Pillars of the Earth

I had this book recommended to me a number of years ago. After fruitless years of searching for a cheap used copy in a thrift or second hand store, I finally broke down and bought it (I know, I know, libraries are good too . . .). And I'm glad I did. In this huge historical masterpiece, Follett unfolds a masterful tail of life in the village of Kingsbridge, England over a forty-year period as it emerges from relative obscurity to become a cathedral city.

The book begins with a mysterious hanging of a French jongleur (storyteller), a mystery that will weave throughout the rest of the story. We are first introduced to Tom, a stonemason and builder who is a bit down on his luck after a job falls through. He has church building in his blood, but isn't able to find work. His wife dies in child birth, and he takes up with a woman from the wild, Ellen, and her son, Jack. We meet Philip, a young monk, who then is surprisingly elected prior of the Kingsbridge monastary. These two characters, along with a third, Aliena, the daughter of the Earl of Shiring, make up the backbone of the story, as we follow their exploits and as their roads converge and diverge around the building of a cathedral for Kingsbridge.

The story is much too expansive to condense in a coherent way, but it is none the worse for it. The stories of domestic life and struggle, the local power plays between prior and bishop and earl, and the national and international politics of both church and country set the stage for the action. A two-decade civil war in England over the rightful successor to the throne provides the international tension that makes for shifting allegiances of the local earls and bishops, causing repeated upheavals in the local power struggles. Through it all, prior Philip seeks what's best for Kingsbridge and continues to build his cathedral.

Tom is succeeded by his son Alfred as builder of the cathedral, but his bungaling causes a small collapse and work stops, until Jack, son of the forrest-woman Ellen and step-son of Tom Builder, is appointed the new master builder. He reinvigorates the work with a new design based on the newest technologies from France, and a beautiful and light-filled cathedral takes shape. And amongst the stones and pillars, character flourish and fail, love is lost and won, and great things are learned.

The texture of the world Follett creates continually draws the reader into this past reality, and the depth of the characters keeps the plot moving forward. I highly recommend this amazing historical tale.

Reformed and Always Reforming, Roger Olson

Reformed and Always Reforming: The Postconservative Approach to Evangelical Theology is a descriptive and prescriptive account of the move of some evangelical theologians to what has come to be termed a "postconservative" style of doing theology. Olson finds himself among this growing group, and seeks to set out the methodology that underlays this shift. Thought that may in fact sound a bit dry, Olson in fact turns in a compelling story of the development of a new brand of evangelical theology.

He begins by identifying just what this "postconservative" theology is by first describing "conservative" theology. He lists ten characteristics:

1. Correct doctrine as the essence of Christianity.
2. Revelation is primarily seen as propositional.
3. There is the tendency to elevate some tradition to the level of magisterium.
4. Suspicion of the constructive task of theology.
5. Evangelicalism is a bounded set: people are either in or out.
6. Many who call themselves evangelicals wouldn't be considered evengelical by conservatives.
7. High levels of suspicion toward modernity and postmodernity in favor of the ancient or traditional.
8. Tend to think that it is possible to do theology relatively uninfluenced by culture or history.
9. Tendency toward harsh, polemical rhetoric, staying close to fundamentalist roots.
10. Tends to be done "in the grip of fear of liberal theology" (25).

After setting the stage with a sketch of "conservative" evangelical theology, he moves briefly through a discussion of shared ground, before then beginning to explicate the "style" of theology that he terms postconservative. It is in fact the task of the rest of the book to lay this out, but some major trends and themes can be listed as distinctive (in essence, they are the flip sides of the ten things he has pointed out about conservative evangelical theology listed above). Some of the important aspects might be layed out as follows (the choice and numbering are my own:

1. Consider relveation's purpose to be transformational more than informational.
2. The constructive task of theology is cointinuing; there are no "closed, once for all systems" of theology that have perfectly enshrined the truth about God (55).
3. Concern about the deep roots of conservative evangelical theology in modernity and the desire to move beyond foundationalism.
4. See evangelical theology as a "centered set" rather than a "bounded set"; that is, less focus on who is in and who is out and instead focusing on who is closer to the center and who is moving away from that center. This includes some comfort with ambiguity that is often lacking in conservative evangelical theology.
5. Recognize that the core of evangelical faith is spiritual experience rather than doctrinal belief. This doesn't mean it doesn't have informaitonal content (it's not merely generic belief itself or belief in some anomalous "ground of being") but that this language is "second order," the communal expression of the experience of God in revelation.
6. While tradition is greatly respected, it is not enshrined as definitive; this means systems and theologians of the past can be helpful and essential conversation partners but the assumption should never be made that they have provided final formulations equal to the status of scripture or fully authoritative as interpreters of the Scriptures.

Throughout the remainder of the book, Olson fleshes out these elements of the postconservative style of theology, looking often at important postconservative thinkers who embody these trends. This includes frequent discussion of Stanley Grenz, John Franke, F. LeRon Shults, and Kevin Vanhoozer as especially lucid expositors of this style of theology. He also undertakes detailed discussions of some proponents of the conservative style, such as D. A. Carson, and Carl Henry, with frequent references to Charles Hodge.

For myself, I have found Olson's vision to be a compelling one, in that he illumines many of the weaknesses that I myself have found with traditional "conservative" evangelical theology, such as it's seeming obsession with who is in and out, and it's often harsh polemic tone in discussions within and outside the evangelical family, and with its sole focus on proposition in revelation. As Olson points out, even taking these points, one is still "conservative" in the larger scheme of theology; they don't make one a "liberal," in any meaningful way (contrary to what many "conservative evangelical" theologians might claim). I think this great book shows the promise of evangelical theology as a vibrant and faithful exponent of the faith into a new century. It makes a great intro to these important themes and to the theologians who are on the cutting edge of evangelical thinking about God.

I Want to Believe, Mel Lawrenz

Mel Lawrenz is pastor of Elmbrook Church in Brookfield, Wisconsin (thanks to Elmbrook Church and Pastor Lawrenz for the review copy; HT: Scot McKnight for spreading word of the offer). In I Want to Believe, Lawrenz sets out to offer a guide for belief in God in our pluralistic and agnostic age. This involves some basic and careful apologetics, some study of comparative religions, and some great pastoral reflections on the nature and content of the Christian faith.

The basic premise that Lawrenz starts with is that we all have a need for God. For Lawrenz, we are "born believers. It's just simply how we're made" (8). God created us for relationship with him, and it shows in how we're made and how we experience the world. As humans, we feel mortal (and why shouldn't we, Lawrenz points out, because we are), and we look for structure and meaning in life. This doesn't mean belief is easy, but in some way it is "natural" (my word, not his). He writes, "Believeing in God is not like a scientist trapping an animal in a cage to bring back to the laboratory for further study and tests. . . . God caries us away" (17). Later, he illumines the fact that belief goes beyond understanding, and that's okay. Because belif is where "the Made and the Eternal" are conjoined, and if we come to a point where we fully understood it, then belief would be about us and what we do. But it's not; it's about God.

Throughout the rest of the book, Lawrenz does a very fine, pastoral job of working out what it means to believe, as humans, as citizens of a pluralistic world, and finally, as followers of Jesus Christ. This involves discussions of doubt (a chapter worth the price of the book), atheism, Islam, and the specifics of the Christian faith, to name a few of the topics he brings in.

Lawrenz book might be termed apologetics-lite, in a sense, but that is meant in the best possible way. He doesn't get bogged down in philosophy or argumentation but instead helpfully touches on many of these themes but moves beyond them to God and what it means to be in relationship with him. I think this great little book makes a user-friendly introduction to belief in the modern world, and I wouldn't hesitate to hand it to someone searching for faith, or even decidedly not searching for it.

The Nature of the Atonement, Bielby and Eddy

I'm finally getting around to the pile of books I've finished but not commented on over the last few months. In The Nature of the Atonement: Four Views, four scholars are asked to put forth a comprehensive understanding of what they consider to be the foundational metaphor or central thrust of the New Testament's teaching on atonement. They are then asked to interact with each of the other three author's views, facilitating a dialog between the different views and accentuating both commonalities and disagreements. The four scholars and views are as follows:

Gregory Boyd, Christus Victor
Joel B. Green, Kaleidoscopic
Bruce Reichenbach, Healing
Thomsa Schreiner, Penal Substutition

Because of the nature of the book, that is, that each scholar is already abridging an in-depth discussion in their short essays and that each scholar interacts with the others, I will simply restrict my review to some brief comments of evaluation and commendation.

In most evangelical circles, it would seem that the penal substitution view holds sway as the dominant (and sometimes almost the only) view. And Thomas Schreiner does an admirable job of displaying the deep scriptural roots and theological reasoning that make this such an important view. Greg Boyd, in what was maybe for me one of the strongest pieces, displayed the deep scriptural roots of the Christus victor model, showing the importance of victory of death and evil for biblical thinking about sin and salvation. Bruce Reichenbach ably deploys arguments for the healing aspects of atonement, emphasizing forgiveness and reconciliation as part of this understanding. Joel Green's essay was also very strong, emphasizing that the context of Jesus' death and the purposes of God are two essential aspects of thinking about the atonement. This leads him to assert that no one metaphor or model will fully illumine the significance of Christ's death, nor will any one model necessarily be the best way to speak the truth of Christ's death into our cultural setting today.

Each author does their view justice, in showing the deep logic that underpins it and the way the atonement fits within a larger Scriptural and theological framework. Each author also sets out to show how their view sets the foundation for or interacts with other views and metaphors, which make up subsidiary ways of speaking about Christ's death. For this reason, I think this book makes a great entry point into this lively and important dialog about the work of Christ and the nature of the atonement. It deals deliberately with the text of the New Testament and also, in less depth, with the historical interpretations and understandings of Christ and his death.

Elie Wiesel, Night

I have just finished rereading this powerful and haunting narrative of Elie Wiesel's experience as a Jew experiencing the Holocaust and the famed Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland. I first encountered this little book in a seminary class on God, Evil, and Suffering, and it was a fitting way to begin that class. For in it, Wiesel thoughtfully reflects on the dept of the depravity he witnessed in years of German maltreatment.

He begins the story with the the waiting and questioning of 1943. His thoughts and that of his community were both on Hitler's progress and prospects, and also on God's existence and benevolence. The year 1944 brought all these things to a head, as the Jews were first placed in a Ghetto and then moved out to concentration camps, both surreal experiences of coming to realize the extremity of their situation. Some hope of humanity remained, either as only wishful thinking or as common-sense expectation that things couldn't be as bad as some thought, but with the arrival at a German concentration camp, with separation by men and women and then by age and ability, with some going to work and others going to the crematories, reality, unexpected and unimaginable as it may have been, began to set in. The horrors daily experienced by Wiesel and his fellow prisoners are still hard to imagine, but that is why they are so important to read.

One episode at Auschwitz stands out as a climax of inhumanity: the hanging of a young boy who had been an assistant to an Oberkampo, a prisoner who was in charge of other prisoners. The boy refused to speak about allegations against his Oberkampo, so the Germans sentenced him to death. Wiesel recounts the lilence throughout the camp as the hild was hung. "Where is God? Where is He?" The question rung out behind Wiesel as he watched the events. Then, as the prisoners were all forced to march by the hanging prisoners, including the yong boy who was still hanging alive in the last momets of life (too light to have his neck break immediately upon hanging). "where is God now?" the question again is asked. It is impossible for questions like that to ring in our minds. Wiesel continues his reflection on these horrors, and upon God. This turned him to anger: "What does Your greatness mean, Lord of the Universe, in the face of all this weakness, this decomposition, and this decay?" (73-74). God becomes the accused, but along with this comes a great void. It is that void that rings throughout the whole work.

While not easy to read, this Holocaust memoir is essential reading. It is important that we remember. We must acknowledge the depths to which our inhumanity can go. We live in a world of suffering and death, and to picture it with rose colored glasses doesn't make it go away. Instead, acknowledging and living in the suffering of others gives us a chance to begin walking along side them. It's also a reminder that easy answers won't suffice. That isn't to say that the void Wiesel speaks of and evidences are the true state of affairs in our world, but that they are important experiences into which God's truth must be spoken.

Mohsin Hamid, The Reluctant Fundadmentalist

The Reluctant Fundadmentalist is a short novel about a Pakistani's experience in America around the time of the 9/11 attacks. It begins in a market in Lahore, Pakistan, where the main character, Changez, a native Pakistani, helps an American find a table and enjoy some of the delicacies of Pakistan. The novel chronicles their long conversation, as Changez talks of his experiences in going to America to study at Princeton, his success there and his sought-after job at Underwood Sampson, a valuation company. Changez finds himself a top prospect at this elite American company, traveling all over the world in its financial endeavors. He also courts an American girl, Erica. But September 11 happens, and he finds his world start to change. From his own initial reaction of delight at the symbolism of America and the West being brought to its knees to his own impressions of the world as it changes around him. He becomes a living contradiction, both part of the American financial system and also resentful of it. At the same time, his relationship with Erica takes some unsucessful turns, as he discovers she is caught up in lost love for her high-school boyfriend, who died tragically. And there relationship goes nowhere, as Erica becomes increasingly distant and overtaken by mental instability. Finally, the contradictions overtake him, and he can't stand to be part of the system he finds so horrible, supporting the country he finds to be such a meddler in the affairs of the world. So he leaves his job in the middle of a project and heads back to Pakistan. The book closes as he finishes his evening drinks with the American, and then proceeds to lead him into a trap, where he will be captured, or worse.

Hamid's novel is clearly at least somewhat autobiographical, as he himself is from Lahore, and spent time studying in America. It shows penetrating observation into the culture of America, with some interesting analysis of how it shifted with September 11. This little novel proved to be a very interesting read, and is a helpful window from the outside, in a sense, on American culture.

Lou Cannon, President Reagan: The Role of a Lifetime

Ronald Reagan is well known as the "Great Communicator." And there has never been any doubt that he could deliver a great speech. From his rise to national prominence with a speech for Barry Goldwater in 1968 to his debate performances against George Bush and later Jimmy Carter to his oval office speeches and Presidential addresses abroad, Reagan had a clear stage presence. And he appreciated the "role" and pageantry of the office of the President. Lou Cannon, in President Reagan: The Role of a Lifetime, helps to illumine this side of Reagan, the performer, while filling out the portrait of the man himself.

Cannon shows that Reagan saw the presidency as a series of performances, with his staff and cabinet as his supporting cast, directors and producers. He focused on executing the duties through these performances. And there can be no doubt that this was a strength for him and a boon for his presidency. He was able to communicate great visions and ideas to the American people, and to project America's greatness abroad. But Canon makes clear that Reagan wasn't just an empty performer; he was a man with vision. He harbored an ideal of how America should be, and sought to communicate that ideal and live out the narrative of that vision in his presidency.
But, in this detailed look into Reagan's life in office, Canon notes that this vision also served as a problem for Reagan, as he often had trouble seeing realities that didn't comport with his take on how things were.

In narrating the tale of Reagan's presidency and evaluating its success, Cannon points to a mixed legacy. In all, his first term was quite successful, powered by strong leadership from James Baker as chief of staff, while his second term was much less so, with much turn-over in his supporting cast and much less coherence and leadership from the people around him, and especially with the Iran-Contra debacle casting a shadow over the later years. Interestingly, Reagan's overall accomplishments were more in foreign policy than in domestic politics, though the latter was more Reagan's personal focus. His relationship with Gorbechev especially helped lead to many sucesses.

Cannon is a long-time Reagan watcher, covering him from his rise to prominence in California through his time in the White House, and his conclusions prove very telling, summing up well the tale he has told. He writes, "Reagan may not have been a great president, but he was a great American who held a compelling vision of his country." This detailed biography helps bring to life the inside story of the Reagan White House. I learned a great deal about events and people that I only faintly knew or remembered, and I'm confident that remembering the legacy left by leaders of the past can help shape our understanding of what is required for leadership in the future. Clearly Reagan is a man to be studied, with strengths to be learned from and many weaknesses to be avoided.

Mark Noll, The Civil War as a Theological Crisis

The Civil War as a Theological Crisis is The Steven and Janice Brose Lectures in the Civil War Era, delivered at the University of North Carolina, and as a book that came out of a series of lectures, it has a relatively conversational and approachable tone. Mark Noll is an eminent historian of Christianity and specifically evangelicalism in America. In these lectures, Noll looks at the theological issues, which Noll argues in fact constituted a theological crisis, that shaped the Civil War and informed the views of politicians and the populace on both sides of the conflict. Noll begins by setting the stage with a look at the role of religion in American public life in the years leading up to the War, and especially at the role the Bible and its interpretation played. He then looks closely at "The Crisis over the Bible," the differing interpretations of various passages in the Bible, especially over the issue of slavery, that contributed so profoundly to the theological divide in the country. This chapter forms the core of the book, as he looks at competing interpretations of the Bible and the methods and assumptions that led to these conflicting interpretations. This then leads to a discussion of "the negro question," a look at the role race played in the discussions, either implicitly or explicitly. He shows that at the root, deep-seeded racism lay behind many of the defenses of slavery, and ignorance of the importance of the race issue weakened many of the opponents' arguments. It is crystal clear that the Civil War was a war with race issues at the center, though Noll emphasizes equally strongly that the picture is far more complex than a simple bifurcation of the country with the North fighting some type of righteous struggle on behalf of equality and the South fighting a bigoted battle to preserve the status quo.

Noll's discussion then turns to a look at what role providence played in the preaching and thinking about America's destiny and the racism and slavery that were at issue. He writes that "confidence in the human ability to fathom God's providential actions rose to new heights." Many on both side presumed to know God's will and intention in and for America. By the end of the war, this view was strongly chastened, and Noll points to a connection between arguments concerning providence before and during the war and the movement of religion to the "private" sphere after the war. After these substantive discussions, Noll takes an informative look at views of Protestants and Catholics abroad, and takes stock of these perspectives that give a different view point on the happenings in America.

I found Noll's book to be compelling and important reading. I think his careful appraisal of this important conflict over the role and interpretation of the Bible needs to inform evangelical approaches to Scripture today. I think one of the clearest lessons needs to be a chastening of our American and Protestant impulse to read and interpret the Bible on our own, without recourse to church or magisterium, and often without regard for history. Along with this goes a strong warning against assumptions of the simplicity of the Bible's message. Throughout the era leading up to and including the Civil War, defenses of slavery had an easier time convincing much of the American public, often largely because of the simplicity of its arguments and the fact that it drew on "plain" and surface readings of the Biblical text. Readings that opposed slavery often incorporated more nuanced and historically couched arguments. For many, this went against their protestant and American sensibilities and assumptions.

It would seem that this book, and this historic situation, has much to say to our modern-day church, and to the evangelical church in particular. Issues such as the church's stance on women in ministry or the status of homosexuals can be well informed by this discussion. That is certainly not to say that the historic move to condemn slavery should or could be directly applied to the acceptance of women in ministry or the full acceptance of homosexual activity, but this careful historical discussion provides some important context in which to judge our approaches to Scripture. It also rightly calls us to examine our assumptions that we bring to the Bible. I highly recommend it.

Jeffrey Toobin, The Nine

Jeffrey Toobin's The Nine is an inside look at the US Supreme Court. Toobin takes a careful look at the justices and the decisions that have shaped the court over the past ten or so years. He goes back to the impeachment proceedings against Clinton, looks at the Court's inner deliberations and dynamics in the Bush v. Gore decision, and looks at how the personalities and philosophies have molded the decisions coming out of the high court.
Toobin looks at each justice individually, starting with their rise to the court and also detailing their time on the court and their legal logic. Toobin then takes his account up through the stability of the Rehnquist court (which he says should better be called the O'Connor court because of her status as the perpetual swing vote deciding many of the most important cases) to the two new justices confirmed during the (George W.) Bush presidency.

Toobin's book is a great read, and makes a great primer for what the Supreme Court is all about and what decisions have been landmarks over the past decades. He has chronicled the liberalizing tendencies of the court through the nineties and into the new millenium, and the new conservative shift with the appointments of Roberts and Alito. The book is a good occasion to reflect on judicial philosophy, and certainly made me rethink how the decisions of the supreme court impact our daily lives. I highly recommend this book, and hope you enjoy it as I did.