For the Life of the World: Sacraments and Orthodoxy
Author: Alexander Schmemann

In the Preface for the book, Schmemann notes that while he essentially set out to outline the liturgical experience of the Orthodox Tradition for Orthodox Christians, the book ended up gaining a much broader reach. This of course would indicate the emergence of an Orthodox seeking generation, which, and this is my own assessment not the authors, would indicate a resurgence of renewed interest in the liturgy. Why is this the case? I personally believe it is because many of us who grew up in the Protestant West have been inundated with Christian doctrine at the expense of hearing, encountering and experiencing the Christian “story”. While its fair to say that most of us would probably struggle with being an actual practicing (Eastern) Orthodox Christian, it is within the liturgy of the Church that many of us have been rediscovering the basic power of the ancient Christian story.

For me, I’ve long been fascinated by and with the liturgy of the Eastern Orthodox Church, finding much solace, growth and worth in its narrative emphasis. I love reading and encountering Orthodox authors, and have incorporated much of its approach and its ideas into my own theological outlook and Christian practice. For me, reading books like this one often help me to feel seen and heard, helping to make sense of my questions and struggles.

The best descriptive of this book is that it simply outlines the narrative that one finds in the liturgy of the Eastern Orthodox Tradition, beginning with the story of creation and ending with the story of our Spirit empowered witness as we await the consummation of the new creation promise. This is the story that you would find embedded in the worship service of the Church.

So what are some important markers of this story? Whereas I grew up hearing much about an evil and corrupted creation, often made synonymous with the “world”, Eastern Orthodoxy emphasizes the goodness of creation while maintaining a sharp contrast between the Church and secularity on the level of worldview and  participation rather than inherent natures. One of the big emphasis of the story it is telling is the question of what is Truth, and how can Truth inform our reality. Within this, Orthodoxy seeks to collapse the traditional dualism that has tended to divide spirit against flesh and God against world, or even humanity against God in certain theological convictions, and instead place our attention on three essential divides and oppositions-Life and Death, sin and transformation, Good and Evil rules or Powers. The story of creation is defined first of all in its cosmic sense, playing the story of salvation likewise out in the cosmic renewal as its end goal

Orthodoxy doesn’t place our interests in individual salvation and thus imagine the story being about us escaping a sinful world and going to heaven, although such matters of individual participation in the kingdom of God or outside of the kingdom of God very much do come into play,. It places our interest in the promised new creation, which we find in Jesus coming to earth as it is in heaven. And it is in Jesus that we are not taken out of this world, but rather placed back in it as witnesss to the person and work of the worlds savior. We are called to bear witness to His life, His resurrection, His love, His victory, His kingship and rule, and to proclaim this Truth in the face of the suffering, sin and death that we find still evidenced in this world. Schnemann has a fascinating chapter on how the sacrament of the eucharist helps us to make sense of the already-not yet nature of the Gospel, a sacrament that is rooted in two overlapping conceptions of time and reality. To follow in the Way of Christ is to follow Christ back into the world, and to follow Christ back into the World is to participate in the new creation. As he notes, the eucharist is best understood as a journey. First to Chirst, and secondly to the world, presenting the “One in whom all things are at their end, and all things are at their beginning.” We, as Chrsitians find this story in its sacred revelarory nature even as we occupy this space in the middle of history.

One of my most cherished chapters is chapter 6, the chapter that tells the story of Deaths defeat. That chapter begins by noting that we live in a death denying world. By which it doesn’t solely mean avoiding its reality and its existence, rather it means resistance to the notion of Death being opposed to Life. Modern, secularity has grown a resistance to polarities and oppositions, which in itself becomes ironic once we note the many polarities and oppositions that do exist within secularism as an ideology. What flows from this though is a tendency to romanticize death, something that we find most commonly in an illogical idolization of nature. One of the big problems that emerges from this is, once we romanticize death we’ve lost all means and ability to locate Good and Evil in the world on a narrative level. It might be true to observe, at least in part, that part of the reason we find such thought processes being normalized even in the Western Church is because we have spent so long battling against readings of doctrine that make persons and things good or evil, or which make the Church/Secular divide about Heaven versus the world, or faith versus culture. These things fairly deserve to be dismantled and deconstructed. However, if we go so far as to lose sight of the true enemy- the enslaving Powers of Sin and Death which holds creation in its grip- we lose the story of Christs defeat and reign. We lose the grounds by which we can define Death in terms of that which is wrong which Jesus’ person and work makes right. This includes suffering, decay, oppression, the patterns of Empire, all things that find their source in the enslaving agency that is central to the Orthodox narrative. Death is often reduced to non-existence, while its defintion in Orthodoxy reaches so much broader than this. Death is not something we embrace or romanticize or make good because we believe it has been given a redemptive quality or is part of the natural order. It is the very defintion of disorder, and has no place in Gods goodness and love. It is the thing that Gods life and love judges.

Why do I note this as significant to me? Because nothing has isolated me more in this world than my simple conviction that Death is the enemy of life. This isolated me equally from both relgious and non-religious circles. And often with an impassioned opposition. Nothing seems to incite anger more than opposing Death for some reason. And yet, in a religious sense, without this conviction, I could not make sense of either my belief or my unbelief. Existence, be it mine or Gods, would cease to have relevance and worth. Nature and science itself would cease to make rational sense. Certainly, the story of God, let alone the story of Christianity, would cease to have relevance.

An important note here- opposition is not the same as avoidance or escapism. The Orthodox narrative is not about wish fulfillment. Rather, it embraces reality and makes sense of it by allowing Truth to inform and transform it within our witness to the story that holds Life and Death together as a coherent plot.  It casts our hope in the embrace of the fullness of reality as we see and experience and know it. Which to me is one of the biggest things that brought me back to faith as a coherent and rational means of making sense of the world I observe.

I might not be a participant in a Traditional sense. But one of the most beautiful things about Orthodoxy to me is it timeless nature, and also its ability to contextualize and re-contextualize within time. It leaves so much room for the imagination to challenge and pose questions and to navigate spaces of great uncertainty. But the wonder is that this comes from its deeply held convictions in a story, and to telling that story. It simply accepts that all reason and rationality flows from our working assumptions, and it’s working assumption is that the story it tells of God and humanity and creation brought together in Jesus as Life for a world enslaved to Sin and Death, can help us to make sense of the world we observe, of the reality we observe. And it is by telling this story that we then learn to embody it, which is the ultimate outcome of our particpation in the new creation reality Jesus brings about.

Reading Journal 2024: The Wishing Game
Author: Meg Shaffer

Reads like a mix between The Inheretance Games and Willy Wonka, just with a literary subtext woven in. The whole adult-child relationship, following our main character’s obsession with an author and his books amidst a problematic childhood, provides a vantage point for exploring differing perspectives on life. Given that the story is being told from the vantage point of a grown woman, one who is looking back on her life while trying to make sense of her present, the YA element straddles a line between pushing towards maturity and recovering that childhood wonder and hope that maturity often threatens to strip away. Conceptually speaking, the book finds a unique way into the idea that our adult selves are rooted very much in those childhood experiences, particularly those moments that act as transitions between these two worlds.

I wasn’t the biggest fan of the romance, but I imagine it would land better for its target audience. Thematically speaking, the book also plays it relatively safe. There are no huge surprises, and it definitely wraps up its themes and its plotlines with a nice and tidy and happy ending. That is, I think, what the book advertises itself as, which makes that an ultimately satisfying element of The Wishing Game. Call it a comfort read, with just enough emotional power and resolution to make it engaging and trustworthy.

Although I could have used even more of the literary motif, it also gets points for its celebration of the power of the book and the imagination. Hope would be lost without its transformative power.

Reading Journal 2024: Days at the Morisaki Bookshop: A Novel
Author: Satoshi Yagisawa

The story kind of snuck up on me, told with a gentle hand and a quiet urgency. It’s mostly relationship drama, and much of this unfolds through conversations a 25 year old Takako has with the different people suddenly thrust into her life after things start to fall apart. A sudden phone call from a distant uncle brings her to his bookshop in the heart of Tokyo’s famed “book district”, where she finds herself discovering new things about her past, herself in the present and finds fresh vision for the future.

Parallel to Takako’s story is her uncle’s story, which is where we find the real heart behind this novel. If he finds her in a time of need, she comes into his life in a time of need. And it is in the simple confines of this bookshop that their worlds are able to find meaning in this sudden collision of experiences. Not simply in the bookshop, but in the pages of the books that can help us understand and tell our own stories.

It’s a quiet novel, largely focused on the routines and the day to day happenings of our main characters, but the relational stakes are also weighty and interesting. It’s also endearing, giving us plenty of ways into these characters lives with their quirks and sensibilities. The more I sat with them and was content simply letting this small sliver of their lives play out as it would, the more I was able to care about the end result. I enjoyed too, the emphasis on persons in different points of transition, even where they aren’t necessary and wanted ones.

Film Journal 2024: Monkey-Man
Directed by Dev Patel

The comparisons to John Wick are warranted. So much so that we get a couple of direct nods in the film itself. Those comparisons are simply a jumping off point for something that is in fact a fusion of different ideas and influences. It functions almost as an intentional homage on this front, giving it a level of authenticity befitting a passion project.

On the John Wick front, any comparisons would postion this well in the vein of the first film. One of the clear differences between the two is, while that franchise is defined by its world building and mythology, using the hyper-violence as a means to explore and push different cinematic boundaries while, above all, entertaining its audience, Monkey-Man takes a more stripped down approach. It is earthy, grounded, and at its heart a more serious film, one that is immersed in some very real cultural notes and thematic interests evoking a legitimate historical backdrop. It is actually these characteristics that offer this film’s greatest sense of intrigue and surprise, taking the story into some unexpected places. Certainly helps that the films sudden release out of nowhere, a big ticket item that I don’t think anyone knew existed until not that long ago, also contributes to that sense of surprise. It is ultimately less interested in entertaining its audience than it is in challenging us to experience the transformation it is exploring on a human and spiritual level. Themes of retribution and justice run through the fabric of its story, grappling with the challenges of personal and social trauma and oppression it goes.

This is, of course, Dev Patel’s film, and as mentioned, I feel like this qualifies as a passion project. A film he felt he needed to make. It is new territory for him, and I think it really does help make him an intriguing voice to watch behind the camera as well as in front of it. A way of establishing his fingerprints and tabling his sensibilities as an artist, avoiding the polish and trappings of being over-produced and leaning into the sort of rough around the edges intimacy that let’s him experiment and take chances. And I’m here for it. I’m excited to see where he goes next.

Film Journal 2024: Riddle of Fire
Directed by Weston Razooli

The official synopsis describes this as a neo-fairy tale. That’s a decent categorization for a film that manages to defy categorization, albeit while feeling, at the same time, like an impassioned ode to a bygone era of filmmaking. An era where the simple art of imagination and a feeling of adventure are your tools rather than CGI, and where grassroots and no frills storytelling bolstered by natural chemistry between your characters is enough to make a meaningful and memorable film on a very small budget

I almost want to suggest that it has an old school Disney classic feel, but it is more like imagining if a Disney classic was allowed to color outside the lines. There’s a definite charm to the kids pervasive cursing, playing without supervision, and minor disdemenears.

There’s a ton of heart too, evoking the once upon a time familiar joys of a childhood spent outside with your friends and nothing but your imagination ro occupy you. This is the way into the magic of its premise, gently wielding the presence of witches and young girls with powers and ancient myths into the stark realism of their escapades. It’s a grand narrative tied to a simple plotline- at the end of the day the kids really just want that egg so they can make that pie.

That dance scene in particular is pure cinematic perfection, and the ending rises to some sweet and charming emotional heights befitting the films practical, grounded, and personable approach. Most of all though, one of the film’s most defintie delights is simply the banter between this cast of kids. The world is their stage, and the privilege here is the opportunity to follow them on their adventures.

Film Journal 2024: Sting
Directed by Kiah Roache-Turner

A quiet and unassuming horror that embodies the spirit of the classic creature feature. It is bolstered by a solid script, a tight run time, and solid performances. A quality film that has gotten little to no advertising or press, but is definitely worth your time. Its not on a lot of screens, but if you can track it down, support it.

Reading Journal 2024: Revelation for the Rest of Us: A Prophetic Call to Follow Jesus as a Dissident Disciple
Authors: Scot McKnight and Cody Marchett

I am not the target audience for this book, given that I am already well entrenched in the research and approach that this book champions. This book, which is a joint effort by McKnight and Matchett, essentially functions as a stepping stone into the wider conversation regarding the shift from predictive readings to contextualixed ones. On that front it is quite good, although mileage might vary on the practical portions that get quite specific on how the authors see this reading of Revelation applying to the present state of American politics. I confess, even as a Caandian I felt these portions, which are mostly found in the final third, kind of sidelined me as a reader a bit. Which is just another way perhaps in which I wasn’t entirely the target audience for this book.

Even if the material isn’t necessarily new, there were still insights woven into the book that helped me think and rethink certain ideas in fresh ways. I really liked how the authors help us as readers imagine what it looks like to live as peope allegiant to King Jesus in the midst of Empire, using the patterns present in Revelation to note the distinctions and characteristics of both. I thought it did a nice job of demonstrating how the language of Revelation is all hyperlinked back to the OT. I also really enjoyed how the authors looked at the narrative of Revelation, which is retelling the narrative of the OT through the lens of a died, raised and ascended Jesus. In this sense, the predictive notes in Revelation are really all leading up to the death and Resurrection of Jesus, while the singular future hope is centered on one thing- Jesus’ return, or the consummation of what Jesus’ resurrection and ascension inaugurated (the promised new creation realty). One of the biggest points that emerges within this is the notion of Babylon as a cyclical reality- every generation and every age has their Babylon. Thus it has nothing to do with a chronological timeline of events leading up to an end times. For the author and readers of Revelation, their context is Rome and the Temple. Rome was their Babylon. We have our own. And what we can glean from the words of Revelation is not just the patterns of Empire, but how they were called to live in the reality of Empire as a dissident disciple of Jesus and His Kingdom.

Much of this book is interested in deconstructing predictive readings. Even the reconstructing moments can’t help but dwell on the negative, which I suppose could be seen as a critique of the book. It’s understandable though once you consider the books target audience- those for whom predictive readings no longer make sense. Old habits die hard, thus there is a need to keep repeating and calling out those old habits when they stand in danger of creeping back in.

When I first picked up this book I didn’t quite know what to expect, I’ve read quite a bit from McKnight, so I know his voice and his sensibilities, but thus isn’t a traditional commentary, so it was difficult to know what approach it was going to take. Given this, I also decided to take a risk, and reached out to an online friend in a shared group who seemed to be its more direct target audience to see if I could buddy read it from our differing points of perspective. One thing worth noting from that approach is, I do think this works best as a group read or small group study, although it would be important I think to have a group that is interested in the sorts of questions this book is asking and positing potential answers to. The authors aren’t shy about where they stand, and thus make their voices prime targets for unsuspecting readers to be turned off and tuned out before they’ve finished the first couple chapters. This book is an entry point into what is a much larger and broader world of scholarship and discussion, but it also is paradigm shifting if you have never entertained an approach that isn’t predictive.

Jesus and the Powers: Christian Political Witness in an Age of Totalitarian Terror and Dysfunctional Democracies
Authors: Michael Bird and N.T. Wright

I’m not sure if the books release was intentionally planned to coincide with America’s upcoming election, but Jesus and the Powers, the newest collaboration and joint effort by Wright and Bird, feels like it’s designed to navigate that rather precarious terrain.

Which bears noting one possible critique of the book. It seems equally obvious to say, given that the book reflects the shared voices of an Aussie and a Brit, that the books emphasis would be on the broad shape of global politics. And I do think it is. Thus the book does feel like it has a bit of an identity crisis to overcome, even if this is at least partly due to what we as readers are bringing to the text. It’s difficult to set aside an American centric focus in favor of a broader reaching viewpoint and discussion, and I’m not convinced, even if it feels a but ironic, that the book does enough to help us get there.

A second critique. While the NT In Its World was Bird working with Wright’s material, this book is a clearer reflection of both voices sharing equal space. Meaning, you can tell that there are two distinct voices attempting to coexist. While there is a degree to which this is a positive, it also has some drawbacks. It is easy to see some of the individual quirks and sensibilities of each author being polished out in favor of a more cohesive flow, and at points this creates frustration, as it left me feeling like the particular authors voices were getting somewhat buried in the mix. Given that I have different relationships to both authors on theological and philosophical grounds, it made it difficult to know how to embrace and push back on different portions effectively.

A third critique, which is more a confession- I am a critic and a cynic when it comes to the idea of democracy. Particularly liberal democracy, which is what this book is ultimately championing and upholding. I fully understand this is not the book’s issue, it is mine. But it did play into how I heard and responded to its essential arguments. I found it difficult, for example, to fully reconcile the fact that it tiptoes into suggestions that democracy is in many ways a corruptible idea both in theory and practice, or that democracy is a bit of a fallacy, meaning it reflects an assumed ideal that can never be actualized or realized in practice, and that it mirrors many of the same issues and problems of the political systems it is meant to buffer and oppose.

It tiptoes into these sentiments, but never in a way that allows it to fully commit to the implications of these statements. If one of its central tenants is a critique of the enlightenment, challenging the assertion that it reflects the pinnacle of humanities social and political evolution and offers the promise of a new world remade in its image (all one needs to do is look at the atrocities it has birthed to know this belief represents a fallacy), it plays both sides of the coin by upholding a firm conviction that the western narrative and its commitment to liberal democracy is the best one, albeit one that they tailor by infusing a necessary commitment to pluralism. In truth, if the book wants to dismantle things like Christian nationalism, the sort of thing that emerges when Christians have a poor understanding of their relationship to politics, the book stands in danger of giving fuel to the fire that is its source- individualism with its commitment to individual freedoms as the highest order.

Similar feelings when it comes to the books chapter on fascism and communism. It makes the strange assertion that the West has tended to note the evils of fascism while ignoring the evils of communism, a fact that it finds emerging from the course of western history. I found this puzzling, and one of the dangers here is that the book is simply going to feed one of the other main components of western exceptionalism, which is demonizing socialism under the guise that the evils of communism are hiding under every rock. It does go on to admit that fascism has been the primary political power portions of Christianity has tended to tie itself to, but it avoids connecting this truth to a clear and concise deconstruction of the tendency towards creating this version of fascisms necessary enemy.

Anyone familiar with Wright will recognize the chapter on the Powers, which draws this concept out as a nuanced portrait that speaks of the spiritual and political powers all at once. These two convictions operate together in the ancient mindset, and thus, to be good readers of scripture and its world we need to understand how these two ideas, earthly Empires and the Powers of Sin and Death, are often used interchangeably, breaking down our modern western penchant of dividing these two things into spirit and flesh, heaven and earth, material and spiritual. This to me was by far the strongest element of the book, as it shows how we need to begin here if we are to see and recognize the reason and the way Christianity’s relationship to politics became so messed up. Both authors argue that we need to push back against the idea that politics is the enemy and/or something we need to oppose or stay away from, and the idea that power in politics is the end goal of Christian participation and commitment. And the main way we can combat this is recovering a theology of God’s good creation, a theology that has been lost in the west’s emphasis on depravity and binaries.

Overall I would recommend this, even with my above critiques. I do fear that this book is going to feed certain tendencies and ideologies that I personally would want to deconstruct, but hopefully the ideas here can at least help tailor and grow a better version of those ideas. I think if it can do this, then perhaps it can help awaken some of the limitations and issues with liberal democracy, particularly the kind that upholds the West as an ideal, even over and against these authors ultimate conclusions and convictions.

Reading Journal 2024: James: A Novel
Author: Percival Everett

Definitely a conversation starter. It is a really strong example of how to write a reimagining of a classic with purpose and craft. Not only that, it is an extremely entertaining read, especially where it weaves the old world language of Twain into a modernist vibe. It felt very much like I was in the world I knew, with Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn being significant stories from my childhood, but it also felt entirely unfamiliar and new.

Which I imagine is part of the point of this exercise. There is a whole world, a whole life, that lays buried underneath the language of a time and a place. To tell the same story from the perspective of James, the slave whom accompanies Finn, is to imagine not only how he sees those familiar events once held captive to Finn’s perspective, but to travel with James into a world of his own, a world that is never accounted for in the original book. What makes it so pognant and interesting of course, is the melding of that old story with the new, stories that do in fact stand years apart when it comes to composition. Everett is not revising the old story, rather he uses those untold spaces to write a modern tale informed by our present time, letting it be and become its own natural commentary.

It is as humorous as it is harrowing and insightful. It feels unabashed in its desire to maintain and explore the simple charm of those old river tales, never loosing sight of the childlike whims of Sawyer and Finn’s adolescent escapades. Which is really what impressed me the most. The book pokes, but never condemns. It wants to bring a fervent appreciation and admiration for the classic to the table while evoking the freedom to table one aspect of the conversation. In different hands this could have been an easy swing and a miss, but here Everett has found a way to pen a new classic in its own right, one that belongs alongside Twain’s enduring adventures.

Reading Journal 2024: The Bittlemores
Author: Jann Arden

If I can say right at the front, I’m not sure where the “comic” descriptive comes from in the books central synopsis. I didn’t find the humor anywhere. Yes, the book is dark, but darkly comic is a thing, and that’s not how I would describe this in tone or genre.

It does have the welcome touch of a gentle prose however. Given this is Arden’s debut, it has the flavor of a seasoned author, confidently tackling some unconventional elements without losing what is a very clear literary presence and identity. One such unconventional element is her decision to give the creatures thoughts and a voice. It comes out of nowhere, and is never really explained or fleshed out in terms of a larger world building exercise. It is just taken for granted. It works though precisely because of the ways the animal abuse and human abuse function in parallel fashion.

A confession: this book has two of the most unlikable characters I’ve encountered in a long while. It also has a very real personal trigger- animal abuse (yes, I know it says something about me that the animal abuse was a trigger while the human abuse was not). Both things were obstacles for me in really embracing this story. It was in fact Arden’s gentle spirit that helped me to enter in despite those obstacles. The book has a propulsive energy to it, fueled by the mystery. It’s not really a mystery to us as readers, rather it’s a mystery the characters need to solve for themselves. It’s a fun element in an otherwise dark story.

The story is also very much centered on the women in the story, giving the story a clear, feminine voice. Not in the sense of commentary, but simply as a matter of perspective. These are the characters we follow, and it shapes the narrative in a particular way.

In all honesty, even though I despised two of the central characters in the book (let’s call them villains), and even though I personally struggled with the animal abuse portions, there was enough here to demonstrate Arden’s strength as an author, and I would absolutely read more if she decides to write more. I think she especially has a gift for simple characterization, which is something I appreciated.