It was a light reading month for me...between a busy month at church and a general feeling of fatigue, I didn't seem to have it in me to do much extra reading this go-around. Nevertheless, there was time to reread some familiar favorites and tackle a couple of new books when I felt up to it. Take a look!
4 Articles I Like This Month
"He Thought We'd Be 'Better Off'" by Jennifer Calder, Medium. 18 minutes.
The harrowing account of writer Jennifer Calder's discovery that her husband had committed suicide, leaving her without her husband and her three boys fatherless. Heartbreaking, honest, and powerful.
"Will Christianity Have Another Reformation?" by Benjamin J. Dueholm, The Dallas Morning News. 3 minutes.
In this op-ed, the author, a Lutheran pastor, explores the reasons the American church needs a new Reformation—and why we're unlikely to see one.
"A Grief Unobserved: Why Aren't We Talking About This at Church?" by Tamice Namae Spencer, Baptist News Global. 8 minutes.
A stirring, convicting piece about the evangelical church's seeming refusal to talk about our nation's epidemic of police violence against African-Americans. Even if you don't care for the writer's politics, don't lose sight of her overall point.
"My Mustache, My Self" by Rembert Browne, The New York Times. 25 minutes.
On black power, respectability, and...mustaches? Trust me.
THE PASTOR by Eugene Peterson
In 21st America, pastors wear a number of hats: CEO, fundraiser, writer, PR specialist, and public speaker, just to name a few. On some days, it can be enough to make a pastor wonder when he's supposed to find time to pray and read the Bible.
So Eugene Peterson's memoir The Pastor, which I reread this month, came as a breath of fresh air. With a calm, spiritual voice, he confronts the corporate idea of what a pastor should be by telling about his life as a different kind of pastor, one who sought to know and disciple his congregation rather than "fix them" or "grow the church." Peterson's memoir is an effective advocate for a pastoral life marked not by busyness, but intentionality.
Peterson traces his life from his upbringing in Montana through his education in university and seminary, explores his calling to pastoral ministry, and concludes with his writing of The Message, the project for which he is best known. What is remarkable in reading his life story is that, while he does not portray life as a pastor with rose-colored glasses, his account is devoid of bitterness. Peterson writes as a man who loved his work, loved his congregation, and loves his Lord.
In pastoral life, it is easy to adapt to the culture around you and try to professionalize your work, to become a part of the rat race. Reading The Pastor is an effective, powerful way to remind you of what matters most in your work: not the organizational and administrative duties, but your relationships with God and people.
NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF FREDERICK DOUGLAS AND OTHER WORKS by Frederick Douglas
Over the past few months, I've done a lot of thinking about how I was taught American history in my Texas public schools, especially as it relates to race. I've thought about how much slavery, our nation's original sin, was downplayed when we learned about everything from the drafting of the Constitution to the Civil War. I've thought about how few non-white historical figures every occupied the center stage in what we were learning (basically, Martin Luther King, Jr. then... <crickets>.) And I've thought about who I wished I'd heard more about in those years.
So when my dad gave me this collection of Frederick Douglas's most notable works for my birthday, it's seemed a propitious time to dive right in and read what this abolitionist and former slave had to say. And after reading it, all I could do was shake my head that this had not been required reading in my high school history classes.
Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglas, a slim volume and Douglas's most famous book, is exactly what the title indicates, a brief autobiography of the man, beginning with his birth into slavery and concluding with the story of how he found freedom. Primarily, it serves as a description of what American slavery was like above the Mason-Dixon line, and in doing so, rebuts the understandable but mistaken belief that slavery was a solely Southern evil. With an eye for detail and a mastery for prose, Douglas reflects upon his own story and offers interesting asides, such as how religious slaveowners were almost always harsher to their slaves than were atheistic ones. Given what it teaches about our nation's original sin, this book, less than 100 pages long in my copy, should be required reading for every American citizen.
My Bondage and My Freedom, the second account in this collection, serves as essentially an amplified version of Narrative, and thus made for a somewhat tedious read immediately following the preceding book. Nevertheless, it offers more detail and goes later into Douglas's life post-slavery. The collection concludes with a series of important speeches and letters by Douglas, such as his famous "What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?" These brief essays give readers an idea of what Douglas was such a successful public intellectual in his day, and effectively summarize and synthesize the abolitionist point of view.
I couldn't be gladder that I finally read Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglas and these other works, and I learned a great deal. I just wish somewhere in my 12 years of public education I'd been asked to read them sooner.
My Life with Bob ends up being an amalgam of traditional memoir and reading list, as Paul narrates the story of her life through the lens of which books she was reading at the time. The result is sort of a love letter to reading, something for which I’m always on board. Artfully connecting her life with the lives of her books’ protagonists, she shows how books have guided her through life’s peaks and valleys, and how her Book of Books has been as autobiographical as an diary.
Paul is a good memoirist, reflective without navel gazing, and she does a good job dividing her time between her life’s events and what books have taught her. This was an easy, enjoyable read that made me want to dive into my next book. Any reader will enjoy My Life with Bob.
MISTER MIRACLE by Tom King and Mitch Gerards
This was my third time reading this story, and it won't be my last. I'm now comfortable saying this is my all-time favorite limited series; every time I read it, it hits me on multiple levels. Here's my review from last March if you want to hear what I said then.
ESSENTIAL TALES OF THE ZOMBIE by Steve Gerber, Doug Moench, Pablo Marcos, Tony Isabella, et al.
If you've been reading these logs for the last few years, then you know I've been slowly but surely working my way through the canon of 1970s Marvel horror comics, with decidedly mixed results. While Tomb of Dracula was an absolute joy, Werewolf By Night was boring; where Monster of Frankenstein offered some thrills, Son of Satan and Brother Voodoo didn't do much for me. So it was with trepidation that I opened up Essential Tales of the Zombie, the last Essential volume in this genre. Would this be a dud or a delight?
The answer, it turns out, was a microcosm of the entire line of Marvel horror comics: a mixed bag. Tales of the Zombie was a black-and-white magazine for "mature readers", different from the four-color mainstream Spider-Man issues you'd find on the newsstand. Within each issue you'd find at least one full-length story about Simon Garth, the titular zombie, at least one prose essay about zombies and voodoo (often drawing on their history in film), and a couple of short stories. This Essential, unlike others that drew from such black-and-white magazines, doesn't pick and choose which content to reprint; it gives you everything but the ads.
As a result, it became pretty easy to tell what was going to be great and what was not as I made my way through the book. The stories about Simon Garth, a former coffee baron who is killed by his disgruntled gardener only to be revived as a mostly mindless zombie by his secretary, a voodoo priestess (because comics!), are excellent. Steve Gerber is an excellent storyteller within the genre, and Pablo Marcos is a revelation on art, illustrating with fine lines and shadow in a way that suits the material exquisitely. Given that the main character never speaks and is essentially without a personality, it's remarkable how compelling these stories prove to be over the course of the book.
The short stories are hit and miss, sometimes reprinting 1950s horror stories (including one by Stan Lee), but more often drawing on reliable writers around the Marvel bullpen to throw something together. And the essays, quite frankly, are tedious; I wish I had just skipped them. All in all, these extra features come across as filler designed to make what could have been a good comic book into a mediocre (but higher priced) magazine.
But thanks to the Simon Garth stories, I'm glad I took the time to finish off my journey through 1970s Marvel horror with this volume. Now back to the superheroes!
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