Review–The Gospel of Matthew: God With Us by Matt Woodley


IVP has a new commentary series, Resonate Series, edited by Paul Metzger, a theologian for whom I have much respect. The series seeks to bridge the ancient teachings of the Bible with today’s culture. In this book on Matthew, author Matt Woodley picks up the theme of God with us to challenge us to the adventure to which Jesus calls us, one that asks for wholehearted commitment but is “especially designed for all the ‘little faiths’ who never have to walk alone” (pp. 21-22). Woodley presents the challenge and encouragement found in Matthew.

I’m honored to be part of a blog review on this book and have been asked to take a particular look at Woodley’s essays on Matthew 18. (You can find out more about the book on its Facebook page, as well as links to reviews on other chapters.)

Matthew 18 is a difficult chapter–both to understand (with sections about binding and releasing on earth and heaven) and to follow (ach! that darned command to forgive and forgive and forgive!).

This commentary simplifies the passage so that as Christians, we can understand how Jesus wants us to follow him. Matt Woodley presents a more lay-level commentary. He doesn’t concern himself with verse-by-verse interpretation but with viewing larger passages in a culturally sensitive light–sensitive to the culture in which it was written and the culture in which we must now live it out. To facilitate this, the author writes in essays about sections of Matthew, including his interpretation, large-scale ideas for applications, and illustrations from his own life.

Or, to put it another way, this commentary reads less like a traditional commentary and more like collected preachings–or blog posts–on the book of Matthew. Those looking for a more in-depth commentary that surveys and works through the different theologies of difficult passages (such as that binding and releasing passage in 18:18-20) may be disappointed, but those looking for an aide to understand how to practically take these teachings of Jesus and apply it in our interactions with others will find a good resource in The Gospel of Matthew: God With Us.

The essays for chapter 18, “A Person’s a Person, No Matter How Small” (17:24-18:20) and “The Unnatural Act of Forgiveness” (18:21-35), both point out Jesus’s concern with how we treat others according to God’s compassion: the socially forgotten or outcast and those who have hurt us. In both cases, Woodley shows us how dealing with people God’s way differs from dealing with people according to the world’s way. I would have liked to have seen more connection and crossover between the teaching on confronting sin and on forgiveness (perhaps breaking the essays in 17:24-18:14 and 18:15-35), which gives balance for these two hard truths and more context for the passage on binding and loosing (which Woodley doesn’t deal with at all), but I also appreciate how Woodley connected them, using the value of respecting others and understanding that we’re all little people in God’s sight to bring together how we approach others. Of course, each teaching in this chapter flows into the next–chasing the lost sheep, restoring a lost brother through confronting his sin, forgiving a brother–that any type of break is difficult to do (and yet needed for practicality’s sake).

In the first essay, Woodley makes a comment about the childlike attitude Jesus calls us to have: “We enter through that door by receiving Christ, but we must reenter the same door every day for the rest of our life.” In context, I believe the author doesn’t mean that we must be re-saved every day but that we must persevere with a humble, childlike attitude so that we respond properly to God and to others around us. That being said, I would have liked to have seen him more careful with his wording to prevent misunderstandings. (I remember as a child feeling like I had to be saved again every day after that day’s disobedience until my dad explained to me Christ’s faithfulness and the assurance I had, so I’m sensitive to this issue.)

In the second essay, I came across a favorite line: “Jesus didn’t ignore ordinary human feelings; this Gospel begins and ends with a God who enters our godforsaken places.” Reminders like these make this a readable, challenging commentary that gets us on our feet for God’s kingdom.

I highly recommend this commentary for personal study, to use as a small group book study, or as a resource for lay-level teachers. The Gospel of Matthew gets to the heart of Jesus’ teachings and makes them hard to ignore.

I received a free copy of the book from IVP with the agreement that I’d review it on my blog. This in no way committed me to a positive review.

Review: Wendy and the Lost Boys by Julie Salamon

Julie Salamon undertakes a daunting task: writing a biography on Wendy Wasserstein, Pulitzer-Prize and Tony-award winning playwright. In fact, Wasserstein was the first woman to receive a Tony award, making her somewhat of a standard in theater studies. Through her plays, Wasserstein reflected the issues of the Baby Boomer woman: career, birth control, love, marriage, and children and the ambition and self-doubt enveloping those issues. She portrayed women in a way that had never been portrayed before. This made some uncomfortable, but it gave others freedom. In her life, she created a network of playwrights, producers, directors, actors, and critics. Everyone knew Wendy. She defined Off Broadway of the 80s and influenced Broadway.

Though she created a sense of familiarity and even intimacy with this group of theaterites, she also carried on a family tradition of secrecy. Her giggly nature hid a sensitive heart and a private life. But as vulnerable or private as Wendy may have been, she revealed her insecurities (as well as the insecurities of her friends and family, often to their chagrin) in her work. As a writer, this resonated with me. Wendy’s sister, Georgette, said after seeing one of Wendy’s early plays, “She revealed so much of herself, she went so deep, that I felt uncomfortable.”

Wasserstein stored up conversations from childhood, college, family life, social life, tweaked them, and shaped them into her plays. (This was not so different from how she talked about her memories, or how her mother spoke of her history. A family trait, it seems.) Sometimes this caused temporary rifts with friends who were shocked to hear their words on stage, but no one stayed mad at Wendy for long. This treasury–her memory–provided theater that echoed with others, especially women, and helped a generation work through life. Contemporaries spoke of her plays as being overwhelming, invoking of strong emotion. Critic Frank Rich wrote in a personal letter to Wendy, “You’ve hit on something fundamental about the choices we all make.”

The author, Salamon, gives Wasserstein epic treatment, divulging not only Wendy’s history, but the history of the family and friends who surrounded her. The book emerged from a collection of hundreds of reviews and is chocked full of facts, yet it reads like a novel, not just of Wasserstein but of theater as a whole. After all, in many ways, Wasserstein was theater for 30 years. These family and friends and theater in general influenced Wendy and was influenced by her. Perhaps as a writer, perhaps as a lover of theater, perhaps as a woman trying to understand how to be a mother and a writer, I found this book–this life of Wendy Wasserstein–intriguing. I ate up descriptions of how she wrote, of how she collaborated with directors, producers, and fellow writers to refine her plays, of how she dealt with rejection and critical reception, of how she dealt with success.

This book inspired me, as Wasserstein inspired many: what we write matters. It can articulate what many can’t express. It offers salve to the hurting and discomfort to the complacent.

Fine print: I received this book from Julie Salamon via TLC Book Tours. This in no way obligates me to write well of the book, and I received no payment for this review. Now, you writers and theater-goers, go read this book.

Writer…Interrupted: Review of Amy Inspired by Bethany Pierce

My review of Amy Inspired by Bethany Pierce is up at Writer…Interrupted.

From the review: Pierce writes with delicate prose. Reading Amy Inspired was like contemplating some of the difficulties of faith next to an idyllic brook.

Read the rest of the post.

Book Reviews

I have a new book review up at Writer…Interrupted–Last Night in Twisted River by John Irving.

Also, I forgot to let you guys know a couple of weeks ago that my review of Freedom by Jonathan Franzen was up.

Enjoy!

Writer Interrupted

I believe I first met Gina Conroy online. I say “I believe” because not long after that, I met her at a writer’s conference, and there were fun times to be had. Gina is a writer (obviously), a homeschooling mom, and, most importantly, a girl from the northeast transplanted to the wild, wild west.

I tell you about Gina because she’s relaunched her website, Writer . . . Interrupted, for, well, writers, specifically writers who are learning how to balance writing with the rest of life, like parenting and jobs that actually make money. The website includes encouragement, notes on the craft, and book reviews.

The latter of which is what I’d like to dwell on for a moment here because the latter of which brings me to the site as a contributor. You know how much I love reading. So I’m now writing book reviews on Writer . . . Interrupted. Today, I feature Lucky Baby by Meredith Efken. I’ll give you a sneak preview: I loved it. You’ll have to read the actual review to learn why (that’s what they call a trailer, folks).

Popinjay: Dangerous

The heat pulled the leaves apart, each page curling. First margins, then words disappeared. Can one eat their words? Or can only fire eat them?

But they never truly disappear. Collecting, resonating louder than the cracks of the fire. White space. White noise. All-consuming. The words that burn into me, searing me, consuming me.

In the smoke, the words haunt. Souls unrest.

The fire encapsulated the log, the heat energizing it. Another log cracked, giving way to its god. The structure tumbled. And the log rolled. On top of old smokey.

It spun onto our carpet, singing the fibers, the fire burning its essence into our everyday life.

And now we have a hearth rug.

See more Popinjay entries for Dangerous here.

Psst: Free Audio Books

I came across author Joshilyn Jackson at the Calvin Festival of Faith and Writing this past spring. She made me laugh, and, dear reader, you know how much I love to laugh. (You may also remember how she inspired a private session of jocularity among fellow writers.) Then I read Gods in Alabama, and I was a goner.

So I put her most recent release, Backseat Saints (which is different from Backstreet Saints, for the record), on my book club’s fall reading list.

Why do I tell you this? Because I just found out that you can win a free copy of an audio version (read by Joshilyn herself). Click here for details.

Speaking of free audio books, my mom pointed me to this site chocked full of free audio books. And we’re talking stellar books here for both kids and adults.

Book Thoughts: Back on Murder by J. Mark Bertrand

Back on Murder is a detective novel about Roland March, a checked-out detective seeking for a way to check back in. When the murder of local gang leader coincides with the kidnapping of a church-going good girl, Roland tries to find the ties that bind despite the doubts of his coworkers.

With snappy yet elegant prose, Bertrand unveils the plot deftly without falling into either predictability or unbelievability. He just as gracefully weaves in Roland’s past, offering bits and pieces without dumping everything in your lap. Roland is the kind of guy you want to succeed, although you can also understand why the force (meaning police force, not Star Wars) disregards him.

The perfect summer read, Back on Murder also offers the chance to look deeper at issues of spirituality for those who want, specifically the issue of risk v. safety as we go out into the world. It also offers an outsider’s view of the church, as Roland is not a Christian but is solving a case directly related to a local church.

This book offers the best of all worlds: excellent prose, cunning plot, and well-developed character. Outside of a healthy dose of Agatha Christie as a child, my experience with detective novels has been limited. But between Back on Murder and the Chet and Bernie Mysteries by Spencer Quinn, I’ve been convinced to spend more time with the genre, and I look forward to upcoming books in the Roland March series.


*Fine print: Because of a silly FCA or FAA or AARP rule, I’m required to tell you that I received a copy of this book for free (although Publisher’s Weekly is not required to give you the same information). This in no way imposed upon me an expectation of giving the book a good review (or a review at all, if I so chose).

Reading is a LOST Cause

It’s all the rage these days to lament the state of reading in our nation. I don’t buy it. I know too many readers to believe that all is lost.

All may not be lost, but LOST is a good place to start. (Cheesy rimshot, please.)

The end of an era may be gone with the final episode of LOST, but its legacy carries on. It may no longer be a Twitter trend, but I’d like to pay one last homage to it here. This one’s for you, dear readers.

It’s no secret that the writers and producers of LOST are readers. They spiced up dialogue and shots with the books of their lives, and reader-watchers picked up on it. It even spawned LOST book clubs.

Dear fellow readers, it’s our time down here.

Today, for anyone who would like to join me, let’s talk about the books of LOST–our favorites books quotes on LOST and those it inspires us to read.

Here are four of my favorites that I glimpsed on LOST (and proceeded to do the dance of joy in said glimpse):

1. The Chosen by Chaim Potock: Chaim Potock is one of my favorite authors. In Israel, I met a man named Asher–not a rare occurence as it’s one of the twelve sons of Jacob. When he introduced himself, I said, "My name is Asher Lev!" He looked at me strangely (Asher is a boy’s name). "Nice to meet you." "No," I said. "The book? By Chaim Potock?"

2. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle: This is one of those books that revved up my imagination as a girl. And as an adult. Who doesn’t love Meg?

3. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury: A world where books become meaningless. I group this with 1984, and Brave New World, partly because that’s how my English teacher grouped them, but because all 3 represent societies where books are lost. (My favorite is Brave New World, but I don’t think that one was referenced by the LOST writers and producers.) I applaud the readers of the world who find meaning in the novels, poems, essays, and other books they read to fight this idea.

4. Gilgamesh: Okay, this isn’t one of my favorite books, but I’m putting it on the list because (1) I think it influenced LOST more than just an answer on a crossword puzzle–there seems to be quite a bit of this myth in the story, and (2) studying this story helped me understand how story and myth worked in ancient times, and this affects how I understand how the writers of the Bible told God’s story.

There are so many other books I’d like to list here, but I’ll stop.

I will add a few books LOST inspired me to read. (Note: they mentioned several books on my reading list, but these books I added to my reading list specifically because of LOST.)

1. Evil Under the Sun by Agatha Christie: In high school, I devoured every Agatha Christie book in our house. (I have yet to discover the perpetrator who snuck all those books onto our bookshelves. They were ancient copies that probably belonged to either my grandparents or my parents when they were in high school.) I missed this one. Seeing Sawyer read it made me miss my Agatha Christie days.

2. Island by Aldous Huxley: As I mentioned, I loved Brave New World, and I’d like to read more Huxley. From some things I’ve read, this book influences the Others on LOST.

3. Watership Down by Richard Adams: Shocking that I’ve never read this classic, I know. Even more shocking that I’ve never had the desire to. (Who wants to read a story about bunnies? They plague my garden.) But if Sawyer read it, I can, too.

There you have it, folks. The inspired books of LOST. If you’d like to join me in this final homage, leave a comment with the link to your post, and I’ll link to it in this post.

Bits and Pieces

Sometimes a line from a book or story makes me laugh out loud. (This can be embarrassing if I’m running while listening to an audio book.)

I’ll show you what I mean.

There’s this one, from "The Cheapjack," a short story by Frank O’Connor:

"Now, Carmody was a conceited young man who thought that everything about himself was of such importance that it had to be recorded for the benefit of posterity."

What would Frank O’Connor say about our blogging, twittering world?

Or this one, from The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins:

"My daughter Penelope has just looked over my shoulder to see what I have done so far. She remarks that it is beautifully written, and every word of it true. But she points out one objection. She says what I have done so far isn’t in the least what I was wanted to do. I am asked to tell the story of the Diamond, and, instead of that, I have been telling the story of my own self. Curious, and quite beyond me to account for. I wonder whether the gentlemen who make a business and a living out of writing books ever find their own selves getting in the way of their subjects like me. If they do I can feel for them. In the mean time, here is another false start. What’s to be done now? Nothing that I know of, except for you to keep your temper and for me to begin it all over again for the third time.

"The question of how I am to start the story properly I have tried to settle in two ways. First, by scratching my head, which led to nothing. Second, by consulting my daughter Penelope, which has resulted in an entirely new idea."

What would an editor say to a beginning like that? Also, I’d like to answer the gentleman’s question: yes, we who make a living telling stories often find our own selves getting in the way of our subjects.

Then there’s this tidbit from the poem "Change" by Louis Jenkins:

"It’s more difficult nowadays to deal with
the speed of change, disturbing to suddenly find
yourself brushing your teeth with what appears
to be a flashlight."

That elicited a good belly laugh.