Sweet has appropriately organized his book in four sections, the structure underscoring the message: vece, via, verita, vita. Chock full of delicious quotes and delightful stories, he invites the reader to realign his or her faith under Christ, to move from believing in the church, believing in our beliefs, to believing and following Jesus. Our beliefs and practices aren’t there to lead us to themselves, but to Him – the way, the truth, and the life.

Each section ends with ‘interactives’ – thought-provoking questions designed not only for the reader, but also for group discussion. Why has the church majored in a leadership rather than a follower culture? Has our contemporary church erased all notions on how to serve? Have we striven for that which is the antithesis of the gospel? Have we emulated the ways of the secular rather than the spiritual? What would the church look like if we returned to ‘followership’ rather than persisting with our ‘leadership’ model? Have we largely obscured the gospel of Jesus Christ because of our penchant to be more ‘American’ than Christian? Have we structured ourselves against discipleship?

Sweet has called the church to accountability.

In the tradition of Anne Rice (Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt), Walter Wangerin (Jesus), and many others, Green applies his background as a historian and creatively weaves a plausible story of the ‘unwritten’ experiences of Jesus. The Silent Years is an account of Jesus’ life as told from the perspective of his uncle, Benaiah bar Jabez.

This novel is a unforgettable page turner, not simply because of our natural curiosity about Jesus, but also because of Green’s writing style and storytelling ability. The reader will encounter surprising and dramatic twists and turns, challenging theological extrapolations, and curious relationships – all of which bring to life the Son of Man.

If you belong to a book club, this novel would most likely elicit a fascinating discussion and ought to be first on your reading list for the New Year.

Halter revisits and explores the context in which our favorite Jesus stories arise, excising our anachronistic retellings that have sanitized the events for modern readers. What we are left with is unexpected Jesus – the ‘forgotten ways’ of the embarrassingly ‘sacrilegious’ Jesus. We can no longer ask ‘how could those folks crucify such a wonderfully kind man like Jesus?’ We know ‘why’. Jesus confounded the religious hierarchy, and religion in general, at every turn.

We must, then, ask ourselves ‘why’ he took this approach? Did he have a death wish? Was he simply contrarian by nature? Was he an angry man? Or, was religion so totally contraindicated that he found it essential to diss it every time he spoke?  Do we ‘get’ what Jesus was doing? Or, have we so preferentially focused on the ‘happy’ stories that we have missed the salient point of his gospel?

Halter cleverly illustrated the sacrilegious Jesus through his own ever-so-shockingly, sacrilegious stories. What kind of pastor would return the middle-finger gesture to a neighbor anyways? If Halter is correct, we have re-created Jesus – whether unwittingly or intentionally – into someone who would have been unrecognizable in his time. ‘Our’ Jesus, is not the ‘Jesus’ of history. He is not the person we have imagined him to be, thus we – the church – are not, cannot be, the ‘body’ of Christ we must be.

For many, chapter after chapter of this book will relentlessly yank them beyond long established and acceptable understandings of what it means to be the church and a follower of Jesus. Yet, for some, while one chapter will elicit a joyful applause, the next will seem to inadequately apply the lessons gleaned from the first. Though a well-written book with many much needed insights for the 21st century church, there are, in my opinion, several disappointing paradigmatic inconsistencies not uncommon within this genre of books. This suggests that we are in a transitional period in which there are few spiritual ‘futurists’ among us. Your response, as always, will depend upon where you are in your own personal faith journey.

Rollins doesn’t disappoint. Between the covers of this book we are led into furnace made seven time hotter than ever before. Every diversion from loving grace is torched. But wait, as we exit the last chapter we discover not even one scorched hair or singed corner of our clothing. We look beside us and all that stands with us is one like the Son of Man – for God so ‘loved’ the world that he sent ‘love’ in human form. It turns out that Christianity was really all about Christ after all. Funny thing, that, eh?

Based on Pete’s earlier book, “How (not)”, I understand him to say ‘we can’t help but speak’, while in “Insurrection” Pete seems to move the conversation into the 2nd naivete – without dismissing the first – suggesting ‘we can’t help but love’. In the ‘aftermath of God’ we unabashedly ‘must’ interpret, yet eventually, frustrated with the inadequacy of words, we are compelled to find peace with the Ineffable through and by love.

Rollins reminds us that the intentional deconstruction of religion is not to destroy faith. Yet, after several millennia of religion it is nearly impossible to discern the heart of faith without a ‘fire’ sufficient to burn away all dross that has, through the centuries, unwittingly made ‘object’ more ‘sacred’ than the Subject. That which is most precious must die before it can produce the truly precious – love.

If this is your first encounter with Pete Rollins, you might consider beginning this delightful journey with his first book – ‘How (not) to Speak of God, followed by his second, ‘The Fidelity of Betrayal‘. Both of these books form a useful foundation for Insurrection, Peter’s latest book.

Though the media prefers to present the shrill and abrasively loud fundamentalist voices within the faith, Christianity isn’t a monolithic religion by a long shot. In fact, there have always been, ironically, rather vicious battles among Christians over what defines orthodoxy and, consequently, heresy.

Rogers new book tackles the job of differentiating conservative Christianity from progressive Christianity. He makes it clear that neither category is uniform in its beliefs and practices, yet there are characteristics that are unique to conservative and progressive ways of thinking. Though some basics remain the same, thus the ‘Christian’ moniker, the differences are so well defined that they are, for all intents and purposes, two religions.

Roger isn’t at all squeamish when it comes to discussing the difficult issues. Conservatives and progressives have different pictures of God, what happened on the cross, the nature of sin, the origins of life, how to interpret scripture, what it means to be ‘saved’, their notions of heaven and hell, the origin of evil, and what is meant by ‘the end’.

Here is why you should to read this book. If you are an honest follower of Jesus, you ought to understand both sides of the major issues that face and divide Christianity in the 21st century. If you are a progressive, you need to have clarity on conservative talking points. Don’t assume you know. There is only one ‘body’ of Christ, the church, and we would all do well to at least seek to understand one another – maybe even to ‘love one another’. If you are tired of Christianity and are ready to or have already jettisoned the whole kit and caboodle, you may well discover that you unnecessarily tossed out the baby with the bath water. Maybe all you knew wasn’t all that is Christian. Take another looksee.

This book is not merely a compare and contrast textbook. It is chock full of fascinating stories, quotations, history lessons, definitions, resources, and references. You’ll likely not agree with everything, nor find your every question completely answered, but you will be challenged to think more deeply about what it means to be a Christian – whether or not you like ‘Christianity’.

How could these two great religions, often at odds with one another in American communities as well as on the foreign battlefield, in our own time as well as throughout the last many centuries, actually be followers of the same deity? Is it possible for two individuals to worship the same God, yet have different notions about God? If yes, then how many differences can two people have in their beliefs about God before they are actually speaking of two different beings altogether? Is the true God only truly worshipped when our understanding of God is accurate and complete?

Volf explains the debate in it’s historical context, then in terms of two Christian values – the Trinity and God as love, and finally he challenges the reader to re-examine the way we reason. In many ways this would be a phenomenal text for any student of communication and/critical thinking – both woefully under-taught skills in our current day educational system.

Christians are called to be ministers of reconciliation in this world. Unfortunately and shamefully, more often than not, we have become agents of polarization, heightening the levels of fear, hate, and anger in our communities to the detriment of this and future generations. Volf has called Christians to task, inviting those who truly love God to the discussion table where we can re-discover the tools necessary for loving our neighbor. More, Volf asks us to rethink our own picture of God. Have we made God in our own cultural image? Do we have God in a box, a little God? Are we fighting others to retain what is merely an idol?

Is the Christian God big enough for all he reconciled to him at the cross?

The authors patiently lead the reader through the issues of both evolution and creationism. This is’t simply a rehashing of the old and familiar debates. Rather, erroneously held, yet still persistently frequently repeated arguments from both sides of the issue are explained, updated, and the current science is presented. Straw man arguments are exposed for what they really are. Narrowly interpreted scriptures are examined in the light of both historical and current biblical knowledge. The history of the conflict between science and faith is given a more even handed perusal. Finally, a coherent integration of 21st century science and 2 – 3 millennia old scripture is presented.

While the authors speak from their expertise, they offer their insights with the humility one should expect from both people of faith and scientific professionals. If you’ve only felt obliged to read from only one side of the argument, I encourage you to do yourself a favor and hear these two men out. If it has been a while since you’ve ventured into this discussion, this book would be a good place to refresh yourself on the topic. If you have completely avoided the debate because the proponents on both sides seemed intransigent and passionately over the top in their angrily delivered diatribes, then you will be pleasantly surprised by the eloquent, clear-headed, and evenly discussed manner of these men. Enjoy.

Why do we believe as we believe? How did we come to the conclusions we have about God, the Bible, and the church? Do we have a ‘reason for our particular faith’? Is ‘our’ God, ‘our’ own creation? How might we know if it is or isn’t?

As Sarah once said in an interview, she didn’t ‘lose’ God. Rather, she left God. The first usually occurs because we are mindlessly distracted. The second is a painful, yet well thought out intentional act.

This story is not about leaving church, nor even about ceasing to call oneself a Christian. It is not about setting aside religion, to be ‘spiritual’. This is, instead, a breakup with God.

A highly recommended book, but only for those who are serious and courageous seekers of truth. You will find in this book, as I have, an experienced ‘guide’ who will step you through some of the most gut wrenching  questions of faith a person of faith will ever confront.

This book, in particular, was a page turner from beginning to end. Rohr speaks from the second half of life to those of us who have joined him in the second half. Well, that’s not entirely true. What Richard has done is to explain the journey in such a way that those who are yet wrestling with the tasks of the first half of life, have clarity on the direction. Our Western culture is ridiculously devoid of phase of life markers, leaving individuals gasping to understand what’s going on in and around their life.

With a little Jung, Jesus, Eliot, Merton, and Ricoeur the author carefully outlines and explains the rather consistently traveled path from youth to old age – the path that can lead to spiritual maturity. Faithfully included, of course, is the awkward acknowledgement that many – the majority in fact – end life having never finished the beginning. The sad truth is that without a guide, a mentor, we flounder through life, missing the point. Worse, our own spiritual deficit robs the next generation of a wise ‘elder’. While all must traverse the tasks of the first phase of life, not all engage the second stage of life.

Why does the world around us operate as seemingly insanely as it does? Why do some otherwise wonderful older folk seem to have sold out when it comes to confronting the social ills of our time? Why do so many more seasoned pastors prefer to preach through the beatitudes than through the ten commandments? What are the differences between the community valued by the young verses that of the older, second half of life person?

This book receive a five star recommendation from me. It is the kind of book that you’ll want to re-read – often. In fact, I would unhesitatingly recommend that every pastor not only read ‘Falling Upward’, but that they add this book to their discipleship classes.

It is not, as Enuma herself explains, that her life experiences have been anything out of the ordinary. Rather, what is extra-ordinary is her willingness to invite the reader deep into her no holding back account of her own personal journey. This is not her story about someone else or a fictionalized story of her own life. You may not like what she says, nor how she says it. You may not agree with the way she handled the various ups and downs of her life. You will, though, realize that – if we were really honest with ourself – we have been Enuma.

Most of us, sometimes intentionally and other times unwittingly, sanitize our own story. What if we didn’t? What if we allowed ourselves to see the raw truth about our own journey? What if we allowed others to see us ‘naked’? Would there be advantage?

Enuma’s story is about her search for true community. What does ‘community’ mean to you? What are your expectations of ‘community’? Have you found true ‘community’?

As you read through Reluctant Pilgrim you will, I hope, permit yourself to wonder about these questions, and maybe even begin your own search for an authentic spiritual ‘community’.