THINK: THE LIFE OF THE MIND AND THE LOVE OF GOD by John Piper
About once per year, I decide to read a book by John Piper, the enormously influential and prolific former theologian and pastor who served as the godfather of the Young, Restless, Reformed movement within evangelicalism. Inevitably, I get a few pages in and remember: while I respect Piper (even though we are not 100% aligned theologically), I really don't enjoy his writing style.
Such was the case, once again, when I read Think, his treatise on how believers should regard intellectual curiosity. I appreciate Piper's mission with this book, seeking to find a middle path between the anti-intellectual attitude of fundamentalism and the cold, sometimes faithless liberalism of the academy. Turning to Scripture, he argues for the importance of reading, research, and critical thinking, even as he disputes the notion that thoughtful consideration must be undertaken absent sincere faith.
Unfortunately, as I've learned and relearned so many times, I think Piper's just kind of a boring writer. As a preacher, he's always been the type that has you flipping from reference to reference, prooftext to prooftext, a style which analytical types appreciate but more artistic/creative temperaments find tiresome. As someone closer to the latter category, I see the same pattern in his writing. I don't question his passion or sincerity, but functionally it's a drag to read.
I appreciate the project of Think, and Piper's contention that you can be full of curiosity and faith, that you can be a scholar and a pastor. But, at least for my taste, I think there are authors who make the case in a more compelling way. See you again at this time next year, John Piper.
ANATOMY OF A REVIVED CHURCH by Thom S. Rainer
As part of my church's strategic planning process, I assigned this book as required reading, having previously read and benefitted from it myself in 2020. That review can be read here,
THE ONLY RULE IS IT HAS TO WORK by Ben Lindbergh and Sam Miller
In 2015, baseball writers Ben Lindbergh and Sam Miller had an idea while cohosting an episode of their Effectively Wild podcast: what if statistically minded baseball fans like themselves were given free reign to run a baseball team as they saw fit? It didn't take long before, after a series of phone calls and meetings, they got their wish: for the 2015 baseball season, they joined the front office of the independent Sonoma Stompers, where they were empowered to make whatever changes they felt they could get away with without burning the team to the ground. Their only self-imposed limitation became the title of the book chronicling their experience: The Only Rule Is It Has to Work.
Ben and Sam—forgive the informality; I've been listening to their podcast for years, so we have that weird parasocial relationship where I feel like they're my friends even though we've never met—learned a lot over their season running the club. For one thing, they almost immediately saw why front offices have such conservative approaches—baseball players and coaches are creatures of habit, and anyone looking to change those habits needs to tread lightly. For another, they observed how the kinds of stat-based innovations which fans obsess over—everything from infield shifts to using relief pitchers in nontraditional situations—make minimal (though not nonexistent) differences to the outcomes of games.
But truthfully, their experiment is not what I found most interesting about the book, nor do I think it's what they found most interesting themselves. What makes this book such a fun ride is its portrait of independent league baseball, which runs on shoestring budgets and big dreams. Far removed from the affiiated minor leagues, indy ball is where unsigned college players go to keep chasing their dream and where veterans who can't hack a AA roster go to delay getting a real job for a few more months. It's a place where the general manager leaves in the middle of a game because the video crew needs an extension cord. It's a place where a late round draft pick can get traded for half a dozen donuts—literally.
The charm of the smalltime league contrasted with the incredibly high stakes for the players—all of whom, delusional or not, still dream of making the majors—makes for captivating human interest stories. And it's when the people, not the strategies, are center stage that this book sings. Sam's chapters in particular—he and Ben alternate—focus heavily on the writers' attempts to get to know the players in pursuit of making them better.
For baseball fans, this book is a fun ride, the kind that will make you fall in love with the game all over again and have you Googling the nearest indy league game. Highly recommended.
BILLY LYNN'S LONG HALFTIME WALK by Ben Fountain
Until just a few months ago, when he returned home to North Carolina, Ben Fountain was Dallas' literary light, largely due to the popularity and critical acclaim of this debut novel, 2012's Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk. Ostensibly, this is the story of a group of Iraq war veterans who, following a heroic operation overseas, are paraded around the U.S. in support of the war effort even as they struggle with the trauma of what they endured.
But in Fountain's able hands, there is much more going on beneath the surface. Told mostly from the perspective of Specialist Billy Lynn, this novel examines everything from the propaganda of the military-industrial complex to the guilt non-veterans feel for not serving to the reality of PTSD for soldiers. What is exposed throughout the book is hypocrisy: that of a government that sends young people off to die with too little regard for the consequences, and of the soldiers themselves who are treated like heroes even as they behave like ordinary men.
This was a captivating, if not a particularly enjoyable, read. Due to both its reputation and the author's local connections, I finally picked it up midway through March, and was glad I did, but didn't find myself eager to read it once I began. While immensely readable and even funny at times, it's a heavy read. Recommended, but with the qualifier that it'll go slower than you expect.
DANNY, THE CHAMPION OF THE WORLD by Roald Dahl
My kids were eager to read this every night, and distraught whenever I said we couldn't. Was it the quality time with Daddy they were hungry for? The chance to stay up a little longer? Or did they really just love the tale of Danny, the Champion of the World?
If the last answer is the right one, they were seeing something I wasn't. While far from Roald Dahl's worst book, this one was a slog for me, 214 pages of book for a plot that only warranted 75. It tells the story of nine-year-old Danny and his father, who live in a gypsy caravan and operate a filling station. Early in the book, Danny learns that his father has a secret past as a poacher of pheasants on the nearby land of mean Mr. Victor Hazell. So clever Danny devises a plan to help his dad bring in the biggest haul of pheasants anyone's ever seen.
That's pretty much it. The book leans heavily on the admittedly endearing relationship between Danny and his father—there are no fantastic chocolate factories to be found in this book, no witches or BFGs. As a result, this is a grounded (and pro-poaching!) father-and-son tale. If it was half its length, I probably would have found it charming. As is, I thought it was bloated and a little boring, at least by Dahl's standards. If I were to give this a one word review, I'd have to borrow from modern slang: mid.
ESSENTIAL X-MEN VOL. 9 by Chris Claremont, Marc Silvestri, Jim Lee, et al.
This volume serves as a sort of bridge between the so-called "Outback Era," when the X-Men were presumed dead but secretly operating out of a remote headquarters in Australia, and the reconstitution of the team with the bestselling X-Men #1. As a result, this is a book full of side quests—indeed, for a good chunk of this volume, there is no true X-Men team, even as the main title was coming out every 2 weeks.
As a result, this volume is a mixed bag. On the bright side, you get the introduction of Jubilee, who wins readers over almost the moment she is introduced with her irreverence. You get the famous image of Wolverine crucified on an X-shaped cross by the Reavers. And you get the boldness of Chris Claremont dismantling Marvel's most famous team and refusing to put them back together again until the story calls for it.
But on the downside, this book spend months feeling like it's treading water. Even for a writer as talented at juggling storylines as Claremont, there are a lot of balls in the air, and at times it feels like he's just forgotten about storylines the readers are invested in. According to Reddit, Claremont wanted the X-Men to remain disbanded until issue #300 (this volume only runs through #268), and I'm grateful that Marvel editorial put their foot down before that point.
The true highlight of this book is the introduction of Jim Lee on art. While Marc Silvestri did an admirable job before Lee, his style winds up feeling like he was merely setting the table for his successor, as Lee brings a dynamism this title had been missing since the days of John Byrne in the early 1980s. There will be more Lee to come in volumes 10-11, but this is where he gets his feet wet.
I doubt this is a particularly beloved era of X-Men comics, but it's a necessary one. Required reading for all X-fans, but definitely not a good starting place for the casual fan.
