Well, most of my reading time in November was dedicated to researching a paper that I ended up calling “Christians: neither Pagans, nor Jews. ‘Badges of Membership’ in Paul’s Epistles”. I was considering posting that paper on this blog but I have been encouraged to submit that paper for publication and so I won’t be posting it here (unless it is thoroughly rejected by the journals). So, here are the few books I managed to read this month:
1. The Theology of Paul the Apostle by James D. G. Dunn.
This is an exceptional book, easily the best one I read this month, and quite possibly the best book I have read this year. Using the epistle to the Romans as his outline, Dunn traces the major elements of Paul’s theology. Thus, he moves from exploring God, to humanity (and its indictment), to Jesus, to salvation (both the beginning and the process thereof), to the Church, to ethics. There is so much good material in this book that it is really impossible to do any sort of justice to it in a brief “review” (if you can even call this a “review”). It’s not a book for the faint of heart (weighing in at 700+ pages) but I highly recommend it to any reader interested in NT or Pauline studies. This is the sort of book that is essential to developing a biblical paradigm from within which a person can think and live Christianly.
2. Jesus Before Christianity by Albert Nolan.
I decided to pick this book up because I noticed that Sister Helen Prejean (author of “Dead Man Walking” and, more recently, “The Death of Innocents”) spoke very highly of it on her blog. While Nolan does have some important things to say, and while I appreciated his stress upon the socio-political implications of following Jesus, I can’t say I was altogether that impressed with the book. The problem is that Nolan (like many who were beginning to engage in a a more liberating hermeneutic in the 1970s) tends to minimize the more “religious,” “mystical” or “miraculous” elements of Jesus and his ministry in order to make his point. Exegesis since then (and, to a certain degree, before then) has suggested that there is no need to posit an either-or about these things. Jesus as the religious figure goes hand-in-hand with Jesus as the social radical, and to divide the two (as Nolan and those both before and after him have often done) is not very helpful or very faithful to Jesus and Jesus’ context. Of course, maybe I’ve just been spoiled because I had already read Jimmy Dunn’s Jesus Remembered and Tom Wright’s Jesus and the Victory of God (I still maintain that Wright’s book is the book to read about Jesus).
3. Ludwig Wittgenstein: A Memoir by Norman Malcolm.
Malcolm was a student and lifelong friend of Wittgenstein. This is his reflections upon his time with Wittgenstein, it records some of his personal conversations with Wittgenstein and this edition contains the complete collection of letters that Malcolm received from Wittgenstein (some of which are quite insightful and even humourous). This book is useful for gathering biographical information on Wittgenstein, placing him within his context, and getting a glimpse of his personality.
4. Death in Venice and Seven Other Stories by Thomas Mann.
I really want to like short stories. However, for some reason, I have a heckuva time getting into this genre of literature. It doesn’t matter who I read (for example, I spent some time last year working through Flannery O’Connor’s short stories), I just can’t seem to get all that excited about short stories. Thus, I can’t say I really enjoyed this collection by Thomas Mann. What I need to do is pick up one of his larger works (like Dr. Faustus).
5. My Secret: A Postsecret Book compiled by Frank Warren.
Well, this book isn’t really much of a reading book. It’s more of a picture book — and it’s a great picture book. For those of you who are unfamiliar with postsecret, go here — http://www.postsecret.blogspot.com. I would love to hear your thoughts on what you find there.

Well, it’s always fun to talk about books. Ben (of www.faith-theology.blogspot.com) posted a list of 20 books that have influenced him theologically and so I (like several others) thought I would do the same. Unlike Ben, I can’t limit myself to books that are strictly theological; however, I do retain his rule that each author can only be used once.
20. The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
19. The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevski
18. A Theology of Liberation by Gustavo Guetierrez
17. Mysterium Paschale by Hans Urs von Balthasar
16. Torture and Eucharist by William Cavanaugh
15. The Brothers K by David James Duncan
14. The Shape of the Church to Come by Karl Rahner
13. Embodying Forgiveness by L. Gregory Jones
12. The Nature of Doctrine by George Lindbeck
11. Hope in Time of Abandonment by Jacques Ellul
10. No Logo by Naomi Klein
9. Cruciformity: Paul’s Narrative Spirituality of the Cross by Michael Gorman
8. Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen
7. Liberation Theology After the End of History by Daniel M. Bell Jr.
6. Theology of the Old Testament by Walter Brueggemann
5. Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis
4. Necessary Illusions by Naom Chomsky
3. Resident Aliens by Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimon
2. The Crucified God by Jurgen Moltmann
1. Christian Origins and the Question of God (3 vols… so far) by N. T. Wright

A fairly quiet month. I’m diving into a paper on the topic of “Badges of Membership” in the Pauline Epistles and so the vast majority of my reading time has been dedicated to paper research. Anyway, here are October’s books:
1. Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The “Lutheran” Paul and His Critics by Stephen Westerholm.
This book is an exceptional and quite comprehensive introduction to the so-called “New Perspective on Paul” — one of the hot button issues in contemporary biblical studies. Westerholm begins by surveying the more traditional interpreters of Paul who have largely paved the way for what has come to be known as the “Lutheran” school (these formative exegetes are Augustine, Luther, Calvin, and J. Wesley. He concisely surveys a vast number of Pauline scholars (Wrede, Schweitzer, Montefiore, Schoeps, Sanders, Kummel, Stendahl, Bultmann, Wilckens, Sanders (again), Drane, Hubner, Raisanen, Wright, Dunn, Donaldson, Cranfield, Schriener, Das, Thielman, Seifrid, Laato, Thuren, Aletti, Martyn, and Becker) before providing his own perspective on Paul and the key themes that dominate this discussion: righteousness, law, justification by faith, grace, and questions of ethnicity. I don’t always agree with Westerholm’s conclusions (I find Dunn and Wright to be more convincing and comprehensive) but I can’t think of a book that would better orient a person to this discussion.
2. Barth by John Webster (Outstanding Christian Thinkers Series).
When it comes to introductory secondary literature about Karl Barth this book seems to get mentioned more than any other work. After reading it, I can understand why. Webster obviously knows Barth’s material well (he is, arguably, the best Barth scholar living today within the English world) and he is able to succinctly cover vast amounts of Barth’s material without creating a disjointed, cut-and-paste type of summary. This book is very readable and has made reading Barth seem more exciting than ever — which, I suppose, is precisely Webster’s purpose in writing this book.
3. Notebooks 1914-1916 by Ludwig Wittgenstein.
Wittgenstein had this nasty habit of destroying his unpublished notebooks, and various collections of thoughts. However, after his death the notebooks and journals that survived Wittgenstein were collected and, as these have become increasingly available to the contemporary reader, they have become indispensable aids in deciphering what the hell Wittgenstein is talking about in his best known works. These notebooks, written between 1914 and 1916, are a precursor to the Tractatus and are especially helpful in orienting the reader to the picture-theory of language developed therein. However, what I found especially interesting about this work is the way in which it seems to pave the way for Wittgenstein’s later work on language-games. I am increasingly convinced that the split between the “later Wittgenstein” and the “earlier Wittgenstein” is more imagined than actual (just as the split between the “later Barth” and the “earlier Barth” seems to be over-exaggerated — a point Webster makes in his book). This book also has some interesting, albeit brief, reflections on the relation of God and suicide to meaning.
4. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison by Michel Foucault.
I didn’t mean to read this book this month but then I picked it up and couldn’t put it down. There is an incredible amount of stimulating, provocative, and subversive material to be found here. Using the history of the prison as his prime example, Foucault argues that the transformation in society’s way of punishing criminals is not actually part of a process of increasing humanisation; rather, it is a part of a process by which the powers gain a greater amount of control over an increasingly self-disciplining general population. I really think this should be a required text for anybody interested in pursuing restorative justice. In fact, I hope to blog through this book in more detail with one of my brother’s who has done a Masters in Restorative Justice (with Howard Zehr) and so I will leave any further reflections for later.
5. The Natashas: Inside the New Global Sex Trade by Victor Malarek.
Right off the bat Malarek lets us know that next to the sale of drugs and arms, the sale of women and children is the leading international money-maker. Over $12 billion (that’s $12,000,000,000+) is made annually from this global sex trade that sees 800,000-900,000 women trafficked across international borders and an additional 1,100,000-1,700,000 women trafficked within their own countries. All of these women are survivors of violence and rape. The stats, like the stories, are staggering, and both are gathered here in Malarek’s book (although Malarek, as a journalist, favours stories). Not for the faint of heart, I had to put this book down a few times. It made me feel sick and angry, but mostly it made me feel broken-hearted. This is especially so because Malarek does a fine job of showing how our countries are either too apathetic or completely complicit in this trade. Everybody is involved, from the U.S. soldiers, to Canadian peacemakers, from the G8 governments, to the UN, and everybody knows it, but nothing is really getting done about it. At the end of the day, money speaks louder than the cries of millions of women on the “breaking grounds.”
Oh, and just in case you were wondering, the Church in general falls into the category of “too apathetic/complicit.” I know this because I work with some of these women and children, and although some Christians tend to think that this is admirable, they sure as hell aren’t about to do anything themselves. Although I have been told that when I “grow up” I won’t care as much either so you can pardon this rant.
6. Narziss and Goldmund by Hermann Hesse.
Well, sometimes it’s nice to just escape into fiction. I really quite enjoyed this tale about two friends: one a monk and an ascetic scholar, and the other a lover and a Dionysian. Hesse does a good job of painting a picture of life on the road and life in the monastery and it certainly gave me the travel itch. I think I’ll go to Australia.

Well, since I had no classes during August I was free to read a little more haphazardly. I took the opportunity to finish up a few books I had started awhile ago, read a few biographies, dive into some longer fiction, and read a few things that came completely out of left field. August was a good month. Alas, back to class and on to the thesis proposal (i.e. goodbye all extraneous reading). Anyway, here are August’s books:
1. Church Dogmatics I.1: The Doctrine of the Word of God by Karl Barth.
Well, I’ve finally begun to dive into Barth’s Dogmatics. Long overdue, I know, but this is a good time for it as I think I’m finally ready — I’m not afraid! This volume deals with a lot of Barth’s introductory material — dogmatics as science, the role dogmatics plays within the Church, the material appropriate to dogmatics, the nature of faith, the interplay of revelation, scripture, proclamation, dogmatics, and so on. As he explores these themes, Barth consistently critiques Roman Catholic and Liberal Protestant theologies in order to advocate for an “evangelical” theology. Throughout, Barth consistently emphasizes the Lordship of God and also the “triunity” of the Father, Son, and Spirit. Within this volume Barth also spends a good deal of time relating the spoken word (preaching) and the written word (Scripture) to the Word of God. Preaching and Scripture both remain human words and, therefore, only exist as witnesses to the true Word of God — Jesus. It is only through the working of the Spirit that Scripture or proclamation become true witnesses to the Word in the here and now of our daily lives. There is much more that could be said about this book but I shall move on. I am excited to continue to journey deeper into Barth’s thinking and writing as he explores the nature and content of the Church’s proclamation.
2. We Drink From Our own Wells: The Spiritual Journey of a People by Gustavo Gutierrez.
This book is an explanation of a Latin American “spirituality” rooted in the experience of the poor and the oppressed. The term “spirituality” is defined by Gutierrez as the path one travels as one follows Jesus. Therefore, there are many different legitimate Christian spiritualities because following Jesus looks different in different contexts. Furthermore, this emphasis upon following Jesus also leads Gutierrez to assert that all theology is spiritual theology because “our spirituality is our methodology.” This furthers the emphasis that Gutierrez and other liberation theologians place upon theology as second order reflection based upon primary ecclesial praxis. We Drink From Our own Wells is divided into three parts. The first section describes the Latin American experience from a spiritual (as opposed to strictly social or political) perspective. The second section maps out key components of all Christian spiritualities (encounter with Jesus, life in the Spirit, journeying towards the Father). The third section brings together the first two sections and develops themes within a Latin American spirituality. These are conversion to solidarity, efficacious gratuitousness, joyful victory over suffering, spiritual childhood and simplicity, and community out of solitude. I enjoy Gutierrez, but I can’t say that there was too much within this book that I have not already encountered in his other writings, or the writings of other liberation theologians. Still, it was a pleasant refresher.
3. Philosophical Investigations by Ludwig Wittgenstein.
Given my ongoing engagement with “postliberal” theologians, it was only a matter of time before I got to reading Wittgenstein (can one study Lindbeck or Hauerwas and not read Wittgenstein?). Although published posthumously, this is Wittgenstein’s most famous work and the one which (I believe) brought the term “language game” into public discourse. Wittgenstein uses the term “language game” to describe how meaning/truth is applied to any given word. He argues that all meaning is determined by the contextual use of a word as that use is dictated by the rules (i.e. grammar) set by a particular community. It should be mentioned that this book was published posthumously because Wittgenstein delayed publication because he was unhappy with the disjointed structure of the book — although he was unable to imagine the book being arranged in any other way. This means that the argument often jumps all over the place as Wittgenstein records the thought process as it occurs to him. Indeed, following Wittgenstein’s earlier writings, it seems that the Investigations is a heuristic device; the reader learns by thinking through, and experiencing, the thoughts as they occur to Wittgenstein. I hope to return to this book in the future, as I develop my thoughts on Barth and Wittgenstein.
4. Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus by Ludwig Wittgenstein.
Reading Wittgenstein in reverse order, I moved from the Investigations to the Tractatus, the first and only book Wittgenstein actually published during his lifetime (and a book that Wittgenstein later critiques in some significant ways). This book is very short, very concise, and very dense (indeed, I am currently reading some secondary lit to help me to understand both the Tractatus and the Investigations). However, it seems to me that there are two major things that Wittgenstein does within this book. First of all, he establishes a pictorial model of language. Language that is meaningful provides us with a picture of reality. It does this by having its components relate to each other in the same way that the components of reality relate to each other. Therefore, the individual words do not have any one meaning, what is meaningful is the contingent relation of words to other words (compare for example these three uses of the word “is”: “God is”; “John is skinny”; “two plus two is four”) and this relationship only has any truth-value when it can be said to correspond to the relationship of reality’s contingent components. Therefore, this leads to Wittgenstein’s second major point. Because language is only meaningful when it is descriptive, philosophy, and language itself, must recognize its limitations and refuse to speak about that which is beyond its limits. When language is understood pictorially most philosophical statements (statements that attempt to do with concepts what can only be done with particular objects) are revealed as nonsensical — they do not have any truth-value because they do not say anything at all. Thus, according to Wittgenstein, to say “I love you” makes as much sense as saying “all twos are colour” — most philosophy is simply gobbledygook and we must admit that such nonsense is all that we can say about the “deep” issues of life. I’ll have more to say about this later this month.
5. The Fragile Absolute — or, why is the Christian legacy worth fighting for? by Slavoj Zizek.
I picked this book up on a whim while browsing a bookstore because Zizek seemed to be coming up more regularly in some of my other readings and because I thought the title was interesting. A Serbian psychoanalyst and social theorist, I have since discovered that Zizek is known for having a rambling style of writing that is notoriously difficult to follow. Couple that with Zizek’s reliance on Jacques Lacan (with whom I am barely familiar) and Sigmund Freud (with whom I am only generally familiar) and this book was a pretty tough read for me — I just wasn’t familiar enough with a lot of the terms and concepts Zizek takes for granted and so I had to constantly turn to other sources in order to understand what was being said (this appeal to other sources also included looking up various pieces of art and watching a couple of movies so that I could understand other sections of the text). However, the additional work was mostly worthwhile. Zizek writes as a Marxist and as an atheist but his central thesis is that Marxists, instead of attacking Christianity, should be allying themselves with Christianity in order to counter the spiritual neopaganism of Capitalism. As he wades into this social conflict, Zizek upholds (his understanding of) the Pauline concept of agape as the proper radical means of engagement. Furthermore, he upholds the New Testament models of community as the desired goal. While the neopaganism of free-market democracies maintains the order of the universe through justice understood as violent punishment, Zizek argues that Christianity liberates people by upsetting all the pagan balances and by elevating the poor as it grants all people access to the Absolute — God. It is this that allows Christianity to then create communities of people who are truly treated equally, over against the charade of equality that dominates today. Pretty interesting stuff, especially coming from an atheist and a Marxist! What I find particularly intriguing about reading Zizek is that he reverses the Christian-Marxist trend found within some liberation theologies. While liberation theologians start with Christianity and then use some elements of Marxism as tools along the way, Zizek begins with Marxism and ends up using Christianity as a tool along the way.
6. The Future of an Illusion by Sigmund Freud.
After reading Zizek, I thought I should get around to reading some Freud first hand — especially since he is referenced by so many people (not for his particular theories per se, but for the role he played in shaping contemporary culture). I was actually quite surprised by how easy and pleasurable it is to read Freud. He writes very well and very clearly (unlike many who have gone on to write about Freud). Within this book, he beginss to look at the role religion plays within the development of the human person and the development of culture (these thoughts are more fully formed in his later work, Civilization and Its Discontents). Although he somewhat explores the issue of the birth of religion in Totem and Taboo, Freud largely focused on the notion of God as “Father” within that earlier work. Within this book, Freud explores religion as an “illusion” (by using this term Freud does not mean that religion is fictional, he simply means that it is motivated by wish fulfillment and, therefore, cannot necessarily be related to reality in one way or another — aside: this leads quite naturally into Wittgenstein’s discussion of religious statements as nonsensical statements… although Wittgenstein would see much of Freud’s statements as nonsensical as well). In the end, Freud concludes that religion may have served its purpose in the development of humanity and now, as humanity comes of age, science and reasons must operate as the foundations of culture. However, Freud is careful to note that science is quite limited in what she can offer us. Science cannot become another religion, and we must be content with the lack of answers that result in relation to many of life’s big questions. As Freud concludes, “our science is no illusion. But an illusion it would be to suppose that what science cannot give us we can get elsewhere” (aside: it is interesting to note once again that this parallels the conclusion of the Tractatus).
7. Race Against Time: Searching for Hope in AIDS-Ravaged Africa by Stephen Lewis.
This book, a copy of the CBC Massey Lectures that Lewis delivered in 2005, is Lewis’ report on the UN’s Millennium Development Goals as they relate to his experiences as the UN Secretary-General’s special envoy for HIV/AIDS in Africa. Simply put, Lewis’ report is devastating as he systematically shows why the goals will not be met — not for a lack of resources but for a lack of compassion. The result will be the loss of millions of lives — including the lives of many people that Lewis knows, or did know, personally. The authors passion, his grief, frustration, and anger, fill these lectures and he is a talented orator (he actually moved me to tears when I watched a clip of the lectures on a TV report). Particularly damning is Lewis’ critique of the International Financial Institutions (especially the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund) although his critique of some sovereign States (especially the USA, although the other G8 nations, including Canada, are never far behind) is almost equally harsh. And rightly so. Furthermore, Lewis doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to criticizing the UN although he speaks as a person committed to the UN. Indeed, he speaks out precisely because of this commitment, for he believes a critique-from-within is necessary. Let me quote just one passage from the conclusion of Lewis’ final lecture. I watched Lewis deliver this passage. His voice was breaking and the frustration, rage, and grief were visible all over his face and body as he said:
In 2005, the world will pass the trillion dollar mark in the expenditure, annually, on arms. We’re fighting for $50 billion annually for foreign aid for Africa: the military total outstrips human need 20 to 1. Can someone please explain to me our contemporary balance of values?
8. The Junkie Priest: Father Daniel Egan, S.A. by John D. Harris.
This is the biography of a Roman Catholic Priest who was affectionately known as the “Junkie Priest” because of his work with female addicts and prostitutes in New York during the 1950s and ’60s. Father Egan played a significant role in helping hospitals to treat addicts just as they treat other patients, and played a role in developing halfway houses and treatment centres — something that was not even on the radar at the time. He also played a prominent role in NA (Narcotics Anonymous, a 12 step program based upon the AA model) when it was birthed. The Junkie Priest sounds like an inspiring and wonderful example of what a priest can be… unfortunately this book is written in a melodramatic shock-journalism, almost Harlequin-ish, tone that detracts from the subject matter (although it did make me laugh more than once).
9. The Many Lives of Marilyn Monroe by Sarah Churchwell.
I have always been struck by the legacy of Marilyn Monroe and have wondered about the implication her story might have for the formation of a contemporary ethical theological aesthetic. Churchwell’s biography does an excellent job of examining the other biographies of Monroe and the ways in which her person and her legacy have been co-opted by various (and competing!) ideologies. Thus, we have Marilyn the embodiment of natural pleasurable sex, Marilyn the objectification of Norma Jeane, Marilyn the victim, Marilyn the feminist, Marilyn the suicide, Marilyn the martyr, and so on and so forth. Of course, I can’t help but think about how Monroe’s legacy parallels Jesus’ legacy. Both have had many (and often contradictory) biographies written about them, both have been studied as split personalities (the “fictional” Marilyn Monroe vs. the “actual” Norma Jeane; and the “fictional” Christ of faith vs. the “actual” Jesus of history) and both died shocking, controversial deaths while they were still in the prime of life. It would be interesting to play around a little more with this idea. This book was a welcome tangent from the more academic realms of theology, philosophy, and psychology.
10. Demons/The Possessed by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
This is perhaps the most tragic of Dostoevsky’s great novels. While redemption plays a large role in both Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov it is notably absent here — and although it is also absent in The Idiot (perhaps my favourite Dostoevsky novel) the tragedy in Demons occurs on a much larger scale. Demons is Dostoevsky’s read on the changing socio-political climate within the Russia of his day. He draws his title from the episode in Luke’s Gospel when Jesus drives demons out of a possessed man and into a herd of pigs who then stampede into a lake. In Dostoevsky’s novel, the possessed man is Russia and the central characters within the narrative are the herd of pigs. The climactic political murder and some of the central characters are based upon actual events and real people that Dostoevsky read about in the paper. I greatly enjoyed this book. Dostoevsky is my favourite author of fiction and, although this book not quite up to the same level of quality as The Brothers Karamazov or The Idiot, it is still well worth reading.
11. Silence by Shusako Endo.
This book has been on my to-read list for a number of years and so I was glad to stumble onto in the bookstore at my school. It is based upon the true story of Portuguese missionaries who continued to work within Japan in the 17th century, even after the Jesuits had been expelled and Christianity was being violently persecuted. Silence bases its narrative upon the story of one of those missionaries who, unlike most of those who had been tortured before him, apostatized and renounced his faith. The motif of God’s silence in the face of suffering is one that runs through the entire book, and it is striking what God finally says when he breaks his silence and speaks at the climactic moment of the story. This book had me thinking for some time after I had finished reading it — and that’s always a good thing.

Well, mostly quick reading this month since I was plugging away on what turned into a 70+ page paper. Thank God for profs that allow me to write that long! Anyway here are the books:
1. Prayer by Hans Urs von Balthasar. Every now and again I find a Christian book that so moves me that I actually stop reading, put the book down mid-sentence, and spend some time in worship and prayer. To my delight this ended up being one of those books. Of course, books about prayer should inspire us to pray, but often they do not. This bok is one of the inspiring ones. It is beautiful, profound, tender, and reflects an author whose life and work has been deeply marked and formed by prayer.
2. God Crucified: Monotheism and Christology in the New Testament by Richard Bauckham. Well, I finally got around to reading this brief, classic defence of the presence of a high Christology within the New Testament (and even prior to the writing of the New Testament). I find Bauckham to be quite convincing, although, in my case, he is preaching to the choir.
3. Justice and Only Justice: A Palestinian Theology of Liberation by Naim Stiffen Ateek. I’ve mentioned this book in a few posts already. Let me add that, given the ongoing tensions in the Middle East, Ateek’s writings should be highly recommended to Western Evangelicals. Ateek writes as a Palestinian Arab who is a Christian priest and an Israeli citizen (that’s quite the combination of titles!).
4. One Lady at a Time: The story of the Walter Hoving Home by John Benton. John Benton started homes that women could come to in order to get out of prostitution. As far as I know, these homes still operate in New York and California. Benton’s model is a pretty good one. Getting women out of the inner-city, and actually living with the women as a part of the household community. I was excited to find out about this agency since I’m working on starting something pretty close to this.
5. Life After God by Douglas Coupland. I first read this book back in highschool but, after hearing the way my ol’ tree-planting foreman (and still good, albeit distant, friend) raves about Coupland, I thought I would take another stab at it. I did enjoy it quite a bit more this time around — in part because it is located in Vancouver so I actually knew all the places he was writing about (what is it about insider knowledge that makes us enjoy things more?). This book is a quick read that dances around the issue of where a generation that has grown up without faith in God can find meaning. Coupland concludes that he can’t find meaning without God. He concludes that he needs God (which, the reader should note, is not the same thing as saying that he actually believes in God — because I’m not sure that he does).
6. The Collected Works of Billy the Kid by Michael Ondaatje. This book is a beautiful combination of poetry that reads like prose and prose that sounds like poetry. Something like a poignant series of snapshots that stir a mix of emotions and leave you feeling that you’ve only caught a glimpse of something both beautiful and terrible.
7. Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. This book is basically Vonnegut’s plea that we don’t look to science and the truthfulness of facts to save us. According to Vonnegut, it is precisely science and truth that will destroy us. What, Vonnegut asks us, gave us the atom bomb? Science and the pursuit of facts. From the atom bomb, we are only a hop, skip and a jump, away from the end of the world. A world driven by a search for facts and truth is a world doomed to destruction. The only solution to this, Vonnegut argues, is to embrace fictions that make us treat each other more humanely.
8. The Red and the Black by Stendahl. This book is considered a classic because it helped to birth the modern novel. It is a well written piece about a young and poor man who, driven by ambition and not faith, enters the seminary. Along the way the fellow has some affairs with wealthy proud women that he loves, envies, and despises, and there is, of course, an oh so tragic ending (it’s interesting to see what is considered “romantic” in different eras). I can’t say I really loved this book, although it did string me along for awhile. I kept feeling like I was on the verge of something, but then, by the end of the book, it seems that that “something” never really materialized.

Well, my life has been a wee bit crazy lately — moving, family events, summer school, etc. — and so I haven’t been able to post my May books… until now.
1. Dogmatics in Outline by Karl Barth. I’ve finally decided to work my way through Barth. For a long time I was too intimidated to venture into Barth because I had heard that one needs to read all of his books in order to understand each individual book. Given how prolific Barth was that’s a rather daunting task. However, this little book, that works through the Apostles’ Creed, is a great starting place. Very readable, a great intro to a number of Barthian themes, and actually quite inspiring. I am currently working through Brunner’s reflections on the Apostles’ Creed and so it is interesting to note the different stresses of Barth and Brunner, especially (surprise, surprise) when they discuss God as “creator of heaven and earth”.
2. Introducing Liberation Theology by Leonardo and Clodovis Boff. This book does a fine job of outlining the major themes, motivations, and methods of liberation theology. For those who have studied the likes of Gutierrez and Sobrino there isn’t too much new here (although there are some uniquely “Boffian” emphases) but this book, like the title suggests, is a great intro for anybody who wants to know what liberation theology is all about.
3. The Crown and the Fire: Meditations on the Cross and the Life of the Spirit by N.T. Wright. This book is basically a collection of homilies given by Tom Wright. The first half focuses upon the words spoken to Jesus on the cross (an interesting angle to take since most studies focus the words spoken by Jesus from the cross) and the second half focuses upon living Spirit-empowered lives as agents of God’s new creation. I especially appreciated Wright’s reflections upon Mary — it is always good to see Protestants engaging with a theme that has been so prominent in Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox theologies. For anybody familiar with Tom Wright there won’t be a whole lot that is genuinely new in these reflections but it is always good to read and reread Wright — if we can learn to read the scriptures as Wright reads them, we would all be much better off.
4. The Meal Jesus Gave Us: Understanding Holy Communion by Tom Wright. This book is a very brief, very basic introduction to the practice of communion. Having recently completed a course on the sacraments, I can’t say this book really thrilled me. Too short, too simple.
5. God, Please Save Me by Sister Mary Rose McGeady. Sister Mary Rose used to be the Executive Director of Covenant House, an international non-profit that works with street-involved youth. This book is a collection of anecdotal reflection letters written by the good Sister to donors. The basic outline of the letters is the same throughout, so once you’ve read a few you’ll have a pretty firm feel for all of them: (1) Sister meets a youth who is especially special but especially wounded; (2) Sister gently asks youth what is going on; (3) youth debates about whether or not to trust the Sister but decides to trust her; (4) youth shares story and Sister wants to cry; (5) Sister offers help; (6) Sister thanks donors for all their help because without them places like Covenant House wouldn’t be able to survive. Too be honest, the book Sometimes God Has a Kid’s Face by Bruce Ritter, the founder of Covenant House, does a much better job of reflecting what it is like to journey with street-involved youth. Ritter’s insights are more profound, his rhetoric is more pleasing, and his reflections are more filled with turmoil, tensions, and the absence of easy solutions (although Ritter himself was later mired by scandal… that was never proved or disproved conclusively).
6. An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness by Kay Redfield Jamison. Kay Jamison is a tenured professor and psychologist, and an international authority and researcher on mental illness. However, she is no detached academic (as if there is such a thing!) for she brings considerable insight to her writing based on her own experiences of “madness” — Jamison is bipolar and given to severe psychotic episodes (when she goes off of her meds). Within this book Jamison tells her story of growing up bipolar, struggling to realise she had (and has) a mental illness, and the impact it had upon her. I especially appreciate the way Jamison argues that love and intimacy must go hand-in-hand with medication. Love alone will not give a bipolar person what he or she needs to be healthy. Conversely, medication alone will not give a bipolar person the motivation to stay healthy. The two must go together.
7. Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon. You know, there are people who read literature because they delight in literature, and there are people who read literature so that they can say that they read literature. I think the people who gravitate towards Pynchon belong to the second category of people. If you like James Joyce (or even Faulkner) then you’ll like Pynchon. If you think Joyce (and Faulkner) write total garbage — like I’m inclined to think — then don’t waste your time on Pynchon. Granted Pynchon does have a wide knowledge of many subjects — from ballistics to obscure magical cults, from classical music to South African tribal history, and so on — and he can actually make you laugh out loud at different passages, but that doesn’t excuse the poor quality of writing that people want to pass off as “stream of consciousness”. Plus, I just can’t handle all the explicit sexual material in this book. Working with sexually exploited youth I have very little patience for authors who pass off sexual encounters with youth as a good and pleasurable thing, or with authors who equate violence with sexual pleasure, and Pynchon does both of these things.
8. The Vicar of Wakefield by Oliver Goldsmith. This book rounds off a series of books about priests/pastors/vicars that I had intended to read for quite some time (cf. Diary of a Country Priest, The Power and the Glory, Cry the Beloved Country). What is quite fun about Goldsmith’s book is that it is written from the perspective of the Vicar and so it is interesting to see how the comments the Vicar makes about others (especially in relation to hubris) are actually quite true of him as well. Yet, for all his blindness to his own faults, the Vicar is still a lovable character — sort of like us.
9. Breakfast of Champions or Goodbye Blue Monday! by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. I have decided that Vonnegut is at his best when he writes about war. This books explores topics of human identity and the impact of technology upon human persons — who are lead to see themselves as machines. Vonnegut looks at health and sickness, and there are still several times when he turns a good phrase but I think this book lags seriously behind his war novels (and even behind his most recent memoir).
10 Jailbird by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. Again, this book isn’t as good as Vonnegut’s war novels. Here he explores issues of wealth and poverty, labour unions, corporate business, and governmental power and corruption. As usual he has many good things to say but they don’t come off as poignantly as his reflections in Slaughterhouse-Five or Mother Night.