September Reading Log

 

Not a lot of entries in this month's log, but believe me, I read a LOT. In fact, this was probably my most disciplined month of reading all year. Take a look below to see what held my attention this month!

BECOMING THE PASTOR'S WIFE by Beth Allison Barr

In 2021, one of the biggest books in evangelicalism was Beth Allison Barr's The Making of Biblical Womanhood, a book that was part history and part polemic, all focused on how the modern concept of complementarianism was not, as often said, "what the Bible has always taught," but was really just a new spin on sanctified patriarchy. She wrote that it was time for women to go and be free, aided by examples in both the Bible and church history which prove women's calling by God.

Becoming the Pastor's Wife has a narrower focus but a similar theme. In this book, Barr keys in on the role of the pastor's wife, showing how for generations that role has been both elevated and inherently limited within the church. Her argument is that this has been done less as a sign of respect for ministerial spouses than as a way to enforce complementarianism—the only leadership role a woman can hold in the church is an unofficial one that is directly tied to her relationship to a man. In other words, little girls are taught that God wouldn't call them to be ministers, he would call them to marry ministers.

Barr approaches this argument from a number of different angles, showing how pastor's wives have blessed their churches and communities even as they are kept in the shadows. Her historical examples range from medieval saints to 20th century women in the Southern Baptist Convention. And sprinkled throughout is her own testimony as a pastor's wife—the ways she has fit within the mold of what is expected of her and the ways she has not.

This book does not necessarily have the broad appeal of The Making of Biblical Womanhood, but is nevertheless a fascinating and, at times, provocative read. There is plenty to learn from Becoming the Pastor's Wife, and Beth Allison Barr has once again blessed the church with her research and writing.

GOD'S COACH by Skip Bayless

THE BOYS by Skip Bayless

HELL-BENT by Skip Bayless

Before his forays on First Take or Undisputed made him a household name among sports fans, Skip Bayless was a columnist for the dearly departed Dallas Times-Herald, where his takes on the city's sports teams—especially the omnipresent Dallas Cowboys—made him a local celebrity in the 1980s and 1990s. Along the way, he wrote three infamous books about the Cowboys, filled with both both insight and conjecture, reporting and sensationalism. You know, classic Skip.

God's Coach is, at its heart, a hit job. Bayless became a columnist at the low point of the Tom Landry years, when the coach was clearly past his prime and struggling to hang on. So Bayless' take in this book is that Landry was never actually the genius he was portrayed to be—merely a good man and a sincere Christian whose image outpaced his skill. On the plus side, this book highlights the players who made the Cowboys into America's Team, showing that they—not the the trinity of Landry, president and general manager Tex Schramm, and chief scout Gil Brandt—were most responsible for Dallas' consistent success. But ultimately, Skip doth protest too much—while never quite coming off as vindictive, his criticism of Landry ultimately seems more about the author's contrarianism than about telling the truth.

The Boys is the most conventional of the three books, a beginning-to-end account of the Cowboy's 1992 season, when Jerry Jones and Jimmy Johnson's dreams became reality and Dallas inaugurated a dynasty with its first Super Bowl win since the glory days of Landry, Schramm, and Brandt. In one sense, this is the best of Bayless' three books because it is the least spectacular—this is Skip the sportswriter, not Skip the provocateur. There's some behind-the-scenes drama along the way—including, presciently, tension between Jimmy and Jerry—but mostly this is just a chronicle of how that season played out. Its biggest weakness is that you can really tell which players and assistants gave Bayless a lot of access and which didn't want to talk to him—from reading this book, you'd think defensive coordinator Dave Wannstedt was the glue that held the team together and that offensive coordinator Norv Turner barely showed up to work. Give Skip the time of day and he'll make you a star.

Hell-Bent is the wildest of the three books, as Skip shifts back into let's-make-some-headlines mode, most infamously by speculating (absent any evidence whatsoever) that Troy Aikman might be gay and that he once called a teammate the N-word. The central drama of the book is the very real conflict between Aikman and head coach Barry Switzer, who took over after the firing of Jimmy Johnson and brought a far more laid-back, boys-will-be-boys attitude to the enterprise. Bayless takes Switzer's side—since that's the opposite of what the rest of the Dallas media was doing—portraying him as misunderstood and Aikman as whiney and petty. The book culminates in the Cowboys' 1995 Super Bowl victory, which comes more as a relief than a triumph and which Bayless ominously (and, as it turns out, correctly) predicts may be the beginning of the end for the Cowboys dynasty.

Look, these books were pretty popular because Skip Bayless has always had a knack for getting attention and turning a phrase. They're also trashy, over-the-top, and full of a lot more style than substance. So, in a way, they are the perfect books for the Jerry Jones-era Cowboys—they're not good, but you can't look away.

 

THOR BY JASON AARON: THE COMPLETE COLLECTION VOL. 1-5

From 2012 to 2019, Marvel handed the keys to Asgard over to Jason Aaron, and the result was 100+ issues of arguably the best comics Thor has ever seen—only the great Walt Simonson has a case for topping Aaron's run. At a rate of more than 3 issues per day, I immersed myself in the whole run this past month, gobbling up all the thunder I could withstand.

The run is bookended by stories about a brand new character who immediately landed on the Mount Rushmore of Thor villains: Gorr the God Butcher, an ordinary mortal whose life of tragedy and unanswered prayers, combined with the fortuitous discovery of the ultrapowerful Necrosword, give him the motivation and the means to hunt down and destroy all the gods in the Marvel Universe. Menacing, creepy, and seemingly omnipotent, Gorr is a worthy antagonist for the God of Thunder, and the battles against him cross space and time—it is only by enlisting the aid of a younger version of himself and his future self (the truly awesome King Thor the All-Father) that Thor is able to stand a chance against the God Butcher.

The rest of the run is dominated by two stories: the War of the Realms and the replacement of the Odinson with Jane Foster, his onetime lover, who becomes the new Thor when the old one is rendered unworthy by his own self-doubt. The War of the Realms is plotted and led by longtime Thor antagonist Malekith, a dark elf who I'd never cared much about but who makes an incredible villain in this story, as he seeks to take over or destroy all ten of the realms, from Asgard to Midgard (Earth) to Svartalheim, Niffleheim, and all the other lands of Norse mythology. It all culminates in an event that brings the rest of the Marvel Universe into the fray to defend Earth and take down Malekith, led by Thor.

The story of "lady Thor" is really the heart of the run though. Jane Foster, wracked by cancer, is imbued with the powers of the God of Thunder every time she picks up Thor's hammer, but doing so accelerates her disease—being Thor is killing her, but the realms need her. While the story was divisive among misogynists, it is beautifully told, so much so that I was actually disappointed when the "real Thor" was once again worthy enough to pick up Mjolnir.

All of these stories are aided by incredible art, first from Esad Ribic and then Russell Dauterman (and then Mike del Mundo, though he places a distant third). Ribic brings a painterly quality that makes the Gorr stories feel appropriately mythological and high-concept. Dauterman, in contrast, is pure metal, superhero comics at their best. Both are perfect for the stories they are telling, and writer Jason Aaron couldn't be more fortunate to have them as co-creators.

If all you know of the Jason Aaron run is its adaptation in the much-maligned film Thor: Love and Thunder, you owe it to yourself to read the FAR superior source material. It's the most fun I've ever had reading Thor.