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4.22 AVERAGE
4.22 AVERAGE
Absolutely loved it. Should be read far and wide, by many different kinds of Christians.
reflective
slow-paced
There were some good nuggets and it was a quick read. It wasn’t very engaging and it took me a while to get through
I guess I haven't yet found a Barbara Brown Taylor book I don't love. This one was great--I was afraid it was going to be not as applicable to me as she is a priest who resigned and left her congregation, but it was full of compassion and wisdom for those of us who wander and wonder. Loved it.
A remarkable journey of faith, in which a seeker becomes a shepard, then returns to the flock shorn of certainty, and learns a new path, divergent from the first, but roughly parallel:
This is a beautifully-written and intimate book, steeped in wisdom and humility.
As many years as I wanted to wear a clerical collar and as hard as I worked to get one, taking it off turned out to be as necessary for my salvation as putting it on. Being set apart was the only way I could learn how much I longed to be with everyone else. Being in charge was the only way I could learn how much I wanted to be in community.
This is a beautifully-written and intimate book, steeped in wisdom and humility.
Barbara Brown Taylor's Leaving Church tells how she entered and then left full time work as an ordained person in the Episcopal Church. After leaving parish ministry she found herself living a fuller and less restricted life. She did not leave her faith or renounce her ordination but she found that life was really there outside the Church. Should we all( that is we who are ordained persons) leave, or do we need to find healthier ways to do and be Church? I found myself comparing my experience as an ordained person to Taylor's. Of course most of my experience was as a chaplain in prisons and jails. I never got put on a pedestal the way some parish clergy do.
I felt like the author, and I were having a cup of tea, and she was sharing her life. It was a fascinating story, but I would have liked to hear more about her husband, Ed, and his contribution to her yearnings, learnings, and experiences.
4.5... I started this book not knowing where it would go, or even recognizing much of the “church” life of the author. I was not very familiar with the episcopal church before reading this, so many of the terms were strange. However, I recognized themes of church life that mirrored mine as the book progressed, and I found myself reading the process of faith deconstruction that I have gone through over the past year. It felt like validation, to know that I’m not alone in the struggle to find god and faith while stepping back from the church and Christianity. A very helpful read for those who are searching
I've got sticky notes all through this book, for passages I want to record in my commonplace book. Taylor is so honest, and her honesty leads her theological reflections to such interesting and exciting places! I'll probably need to buy my own copy of this eventually, so I have it to read again and again, and to mark up.
The heart of the book is Taylor's own journey from being associate priest at a large city parish to rector of a small rural parish, one she fell in love with, and idolized rather, before miraculously attaining rectorship. The church swells beyond all expectations, but Taylor becomes more and more depressed, finding her eyes watering on Sunday mornings as she shakes hands at the church door. Finally recognizing that she is weeping helplessly, and does not in fact simply have something stuck in her eye, she makes the break. There's a lot for both the parish and Taylor herself to work through in the wake of this hasty decision, but what comes out of it is both necessary and beautiful: a reclamation of Sabbath, a questioning of the theological and pastoral value of the rector-church hierarchical model, and a new vision of the priesthood of all and the holiness of creation. These are the seeds of her transformative follow-up book, An Altar in the World.
The heart of the book is Taylor's own journey from being associate priest at a large city parish to rector of a small rural parish, one she fell in love with, and idolized rather, before miraculously attaining rectorship. The church swells beyond all expectations, but Taylor becomes more and more depressed, finding her eyes watering on Sunday mornings as she shakes hands at the church door. Finally recognizing that she is weeping helplessly, and does not in fact simply have something stuck in her eye, she makes the break. There's a lot for both the parish and Taylor herself to work through in the wake of this hasty decision, but what comes out of it is both necessary and beautiful: a reclamation of Sabbath, a questioning of the theological and pastoral value of the rector-church hierarchical model, and a new vision of the priesthood of all and the holiness of creation. These are the seeds of her transformative follow-up book, An Altar in the World.
I loved Barbara's telling of her story. But, for me, the best part of the book was her analogy of the church as a map. As a person who has grown up under the protective eye of 'mother church', I'm finding myself wandering more towards those encamped around the fringes of the map nowadays, and I find great comfort in knowing that there are many more like me who have done the same without losing faith entirely.