William Dalrymple's fascinating travelogue From the Holy Mountain deserves its immense critical acclaim. Dalrymple's journey in the steps of the sixth century John Moschos to witness the "final chapter" of Eastern Christianity's demise is an illuminating and often disturbing tale.
Perhaps most illuminating for the western reader is the rich Christian past of the areas that have of late seen the expulsion of Orthodox Christians; Dalyrmple carefully outlines how indebted the Western Christian tradition is to the theological formulations and cultural preservation of Byzantine Christianity.
As Dalrymple deftly shows, however, the recent advent of Muslim fundamentalism and Arab nationalism only begin to explain the disturbing persecution and expulsion of Christians in the region. Yet while his attention to detail and nuance preclude any one-sided judgments, Dalrymple can be righteously indignant with the best of them; a case in point is Dalrymple's dogged attempt to preserve the memory of the Armenian genocide in Turkey that has been systematically supressed by government officials.
Though Dalrymple is commendably vituperative in his treatment of the above injustices, he is likewise aware of the nuanced complexities that plague other regions of turmoil. With a keen understanding of geopolitical maneuvering, in his long sections discussing the plight of Lebanese and Palestinian Christians he records interviews and conversations with many personally affected by the politicking of the region, and thus manages to avoid simplistic moralisms. A evenhanded professionalism is maintained throughout.
While there is little to criticize about this book - it has been one of my favorite books of the year - a reader with religious leanings will be both grateful and grated by Dalrymple's erudition. For he weds a religious sensibility with what seems to be a covert personal skepticism. Perhaps Dalrymple's skeptical stance is merely a journalistic affection (western rationalism is equally detested), but at times it seems to trivialize the beliefs and struggles which fill the memories of those which Dalrymple aims to memorialize. Though his curiousity and empathic tendencies more than make up for his skeptical purview, at times Dalrymple's dispassionate treatment comes across as haughty candor.

This self-titled album far outdoes Caged Bird. Though two songs (Ithaca and Nevermind) reappear on this his second album, the 10 new tracks are sweet. Not only does Jake once again showcase his prodigious vocal and instrumental gifts, but this album is a much more richly textured and complex array of musical styles.

Though songs like "Destiny's Flight" and "Peace of Mind" are vintage Jake, more impressive are his more off-beat songs: the jazzy and syncopated "Adonai" is a great song, the classic country style of "Little Boy Blue," the upbeat bluegrass sound of "Too Many People"...

My only criticism may be the melancholic mood of nearly the enitre disc. Many of the songs deal with loneliness, lost love, or angst of some sort. Lyrically and poetically, however, the songs are rich and thoughtful despite being somewhat depressing. Jake's honesty must be commended, though, and much insight can be mined from this labyrinthine array of human experience...

Get yourself a copy. I assume we'll be hearing more about Jake Armerding in the future...

Imagine you're a young American woman, a recent convert to orthodox Judaism and a PhD candidate at Cambridge University in England, and one night Jesus comes to you in a dream. Wouldn't you want to write it down?

Lauren Winner has, and her life's story (thus far) is an absorbing and enlightening one. The daughter of a lapsed Baptist mother and a non-observant Jewish father, she spends her youth alone at a Reform synagogue. Through Potok's The Chosen and her study of Judaism she first romanticizes Orthodox Judaism, then is drawn into the faith. While at Columbia University, though, she can't seem to shake an academic fixation on American Protestant religious history. Thus while wearing long dresses, eating kosher food, and becoming deeply immersed in Orthodox Judaism, she studies Jonathan Edwards and the Great Awakening. Unable to shake this near obsession with Christianity, she is, in fits and starts, drawn to Christ through a number of influences (one of which, she is ashamed to admit, being Jan Karon's At Home in Mitford). A couple of years and one theophany later, now at Cambridge, she is baptized in an Anglican chapel.

Though the book's chapters aren't chronologically assembled, which can be a bit confusing, the narrative is loosely held together thematically and is told in such a playful, sexy (yes, sexy), yet honest voice that critics are calling her writing Anne Lamott-esque.

Told through a series of loosely related personal essays titled after Christian and Jewish festivals, Winner artfully draws you into her journey. She tells of her estrangement from many of her Jewish relationships; her not-so-earnest struggle with chastity; her visceral distaste for, yet deep appreciation of, the evangelical sub-culture; and throughout includes many moving reflections on the church, liturgy and the Incarnation. Most pressing, though, is her longing to make sense of Christianity's Jewishness - and most of the book, and thus her life, centers around this theme.

Though Winner is not your typical convert to evangelical Christianity, her story is perhaps the most captivatingly eccentric and honest "conversion narrative" I've come across. Unabashedly bookish, brutally honest, deeply religious, and endlessly endearing, she delicately handles the two interwoven faiths with care, humor, and lots of learning - appreciating the distinct fabric of each but recognizing, and sorting through, their true kinship:

"on Ascension Day, I am struck by the deep similarity that lies just underneath that difference. Both Jews and Christians live in a world that is not yet redeemed, and both of us await ultimate redemption. Some of us wait for a messiah to come once and forever; others of us wait for Him to come back. But we are both stuck living in a world where redemption is not complete....We are both waiting."

Though there are other avenues by which one can begin to understand the kinship of Christianity and Judaism, it is a unique opportunity to be able to experience the richness and shortcomings of both faiths through a 21st-century Gen Xer's personal journey. Though some may object to aspects of Winner's forwardness, her depth of insight and quirky style make one appreciate once again the richness and complexity, as well as the Jewishness, of the Christian faith.

John Stackhouse book is lucid, winsome, and profoundly Christian - I commend it to all those who take Scripture seriously, are theologically orthodox, and desire to be a humble, earnest, and reflective witness for Christ in a world marked by relativism and religious skepticism on one hand, and defensive and insular biblicism on the other.

With reference to the previous reviewers, this book is good enough that I must defend it against those who seem to have missed the point.

To begin, Stackhouse in no way "bows to contemporary intellectual trends." He is thoroughly orthodox but merely recognizes the fact of ethical and religious pluralism (look around), and never encourages Christians to affirm the truth of other faiths. Instead, he clearly and humorously helps one understand the current epistemological situation... then encourages the Christian community to witness by example and through humble and earnest dialogue. Instead of flagrantly and arrogantly condemning other faiths, he encourages the Christian to thoughtfully and respectfully commend the Christian faith, arguing if necessary, but always in a spirit of respect and love. This seems to me the most effective, and most Christlike, approach - lovingly bringing in the Kingdom of God one relationship at a time.

With regards to religious exclusivism, it seems to me that theologically he would fall into this camp (contrary to the comments of "a reader") - however, Stackhouse rightly affirms the obvious: since we are not God, we are not privy to certaintly about the eternal status of others; therefore our only recourse is to earnestly and lovingly (and, if needed, argumentatively) commend the faith to those we meet, always respecting the other's freedom and intellectual integrity - recognizing that everyone always has reasons for what they believe... regardless of how coherent (or incoherent) they are. No doubt Paul in Athens (Acts 17) is a perfect example, even appropriating ways in which the Epicurean and Stoic philosophies pointed to Christian truth (by quoting their texts...find any commentary).

Regarding what "First Theology" writes about "humanistic and secular philosophies", I'm not certain exactly what his issue is. Stackhouse recognizes that obvious: that when we live in a religiously pluralist society, a reflective person can't but recognize that others hold other mutually exclusive positions, making certainty a bit more tenuous. However, amidst this new situation, Stackhouse rightly maintains Christianity's uniqueness - perhaps not as winsomely agressive as, say, G.K. Chesterton... but that is not his purpose. His approach merely suggests that returning to an age of heretic-burning isn't merited. (I might add that Stackhouse may agree with N.T. Wright that biblical literalists may reflect "humanist and secular philosophies" (more specifically Western materialism, a.k.a. postivism) more than other Christian traditions - thus allowing "First Theology" to know certainly and completely "what the Bible teaches"... treating scripture (particularly the N.T.) as a store-house of mere propositional and literal truth, which reflects a way of thinking about Scripture resulting from the Enlightenment (post-18th century) and narrowed during the Biblical inerrancy debates of the last 130 years... (Cf. The New Testament and the People of God, Ch. 2).)

Previous reviewers, and others immersed in a Christian sub-culture no doubt realize there are contentious issues of debate, but Stackhouse (I think rightly) outlines an appropriate (and may I reiterate, thoroughly orthodox) approach, recognizing that in commending the faith to one's neighbor, one must start from common ground. With the most important insight being that the example of Christlike love is the most cogent and convicting of arguments.

After reading this, if you want to burn me at the stake, then you won't enjoy "Humble Apologetics"... if this resonates with you - then Stackhouse is a wise and humble guide for Apologists everywhere. Remember, though, his book isn't a compendium of arguments, but an insightful and wise APPROACH to our faith's defense.