Seth is an up-and-coming advertising writer who's had some recent success. He's convinced that this will be the pattern of his life. Unfortunately for him, it is not to be so. The tides of fortune change and his success begins to dissipate. This is obvious to everyone but Seth.
As his life begins to change and then disintegrate, Set remains convinced that he is winnipeg and everything is going his way. This delusional, unreliable point of view is the one we see the story through. Seth's tale is both funny and horrifying, often at the same time. One feels sorry for the man, but also realizes that much of his woe is self-inflicted.
"The Men Can't Be Saved" is an entertaining take on toxic masculinity, workplace culture, and the pressure to succeed. The writing is good, though I found the pacing inconsistent. This, along with the likeable unlikeability of the characters may be intentional on the author's part to heighten the sense of Seth's delusions.
This one's a good read if you're looking for something entertaining, occasionally unbelievable, and a little bit dark.
Constant growth and expansion are the hallmarks of success in the 21st century. If your church hasn't seen double-digit increases in membership, if you're not planning a 20,000 square foot expansion to your building, if you're not planting a new 1,000-seat campus every year, you must be doing something wrong. Right? Not so, claim Andrew Root and Blair Bertrand, the authors of When Church Stops Working: A Future for Your Congregation Beyond More Money, Programs, and Innovation. They suggest that calm, steadfast witness in response to God's movement might just be a suitable alternative to the boom-or-bust model of church.
The Church is not a Fortune 500 company and it should not seek to behave like one. Rather, the Church should focus its energy on God. Funny, that. A return to the relationship with God is a calm and steady theme throughout the book. Root and Bertrand are certain that God continues to speak to us through sacrament, scripture, prayer, learning, and ministry. They are persuaded that we can, again, learn from the liturgies and calendars, rhythms and patterns of our traditions. There is no call here to a radical reformation of the Church such as we saw tried 500 years ago, but rather a reminder that we have an alternative model of how to be as church.
This book is not a series of tips and tricks for reviving a declining congregation. Nor is it a step-by-step manual to successful stewardship campaigns or anything like that. Rather, it is a persuasive suggestion that our calling as 21st century Christians may be to live in smaller, calmer, more intentional communities than we have done for many generations.
In summary, I think When Church Stops Working is a well-written, accessible, refreshing entry into the field of congregational development. Its focus on spirituality, relationship, and God certainly speaks to me and the challenges and opportunities I see in my parish, diocese, and church. This could make for an excellent book study for clergy groups, parish councils, or entire congregations. I hope that this book will be widely read and its ideas discussed by people in every order and ministry of the Church.
A longer review is available at bookishpriest.com
Thanks to Brazos Press and NetGalley for furnishing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is a fun, short read about Edison Rooker, a young man looking for community and hoping to find it among the sorcerers in his city. Alas, he has been tested many times and is told he is not magical. A relationship with a willing sorcerer and a bit of illegal inventiveness on his part gets Rook caught up all sorts of controversy with the local magical authorities. It also sets him on a path to some romance with Sun, another sorcerer's apprentice.
In short, this is a good book. The writing is engaging, the plot pacing is consistent and enjoyable, the characters are interesting and lovable (even the difficult ones). There is also an honesty about the people in this book and their idiosyncracies that I found refreshing and helpful in getting to know them. The plot and characters were not mind-blowing and didn't represent anything especially new or innovative to me, but it was a good book that did what it meant to do.
There is plenty of LGBTQ+ representation in Spell Bound and, thankfully, it is not used solely in service to the plot or for representation's sake. The characters feel genuine, warts and all.
The romance subplot was cute, meaningful, and enjoyable to track. I am often wary of romance becuase it frequently feels wedged into the larger story as though it were a requirement somehow. This is not the case here and F. T. Lukens has done an excellent job weaving the developing romance into the larger web of relationships and plot.
I found the volume differential in the two narrators difficult to manage much of the time. This is not a comment on Neo Cihi or Kevin R. Free, both of whom do very fine jobs of the narration, but rather poor work on Simon & Schuster Audio's part for producing such unbalanced tracks.
Jesus, Love, and Tacos is a recent entry, published in October 2022, into a genre that I call "theology by memoir". The author has a theological idea to present and they do it in digestible pieces surrounded with lots of personal anecodotes that are meant to illustrate the theology.
Throughout the book, I would estimate the ratio of anecdotes to theological discussion is about 2.5:1. There is a lot of Stephens's life in this book, centring the experience of a white American mother in a heterosexual marriage, attending a non-denominational church, while living in a large city in the South. The heavy reliance on these anecdotes means that much of the conversation in Jesus, Love, and Tacos was, for me, relatable only in the abstract. I share precious few of Stephens's life circumstances or experiences and found many of the intended illustrative stories to be unhelpful.
Jesus, Love, and Tacos is a book that I wanted to like but struggled with and would have a hard time recommending to most people in my circles. I think this is, for the most part, a case of divergent contexts, experience, and needs, rather than a true failing on the part of either this book or its author.
Blood Debts is a fun read that combines family feuds, mystery, magic, teen drama, and sets it all against the backdrop of New Orleans.
The story is well-told and a lot of fun to follow. Race, class, and complicated histories are touched on and there's LGBTQ+ representation too.
I didn't think Blood Debts did anything especially new or mind-blowing, but it did a great job of telling its story in a fun way. Great for some mildly spooky summer reading.