Jay Hein has had a front row seat to a quiet revolution in the United States. Having served as George W. Bush's director of the White House Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives, Hein participated in one of Bush's trademark ideas: charitable choice, the idea that private charity can and should be funded on an equal footing with government programs. In The Quiet Revolution: An Active Faith That Transforms Lives and Communities, Hein tells the story of charitable choice, gives examples of private charity in action, and argues the case for this modern partnership between church and state.
The challenge of The Quiet Revolution is this: there are thousands of organizations around the U.S. doing great work for the poor, as well as serving other groups in our communities. These organizations are staffed by millions of volunteers, dedicated employees, and talented directors. Reading Hein's stories forced me to reflect on what I am doing on behalf of my neighbors and community.
My biggest problem with Hein's argument is this: he spends little time (maybe none at all, but I may have missed it. . . .) analyzing the potential impact of government funding on religious and other non-governmental organizations. He celebrates the fact that effective charitable organizations qualify for government grants. I wonder, though, if the fact that they have taken government money would inhibit the very qualities that make them effective. Once an organization long dependent on local donors, grants from foundations, and creative fund raising turns toward dependency on the decisions of Washington bureaucrats, the culture and priorities of the organization will inevitably begin to change.
What I can whole-heartedly agree with is Hein's call for more emphasis on private charity. He points out that "people, not bureaucracies, solve problems." Washington culture's focus on bureaucratic solutions neglects the role of private, community-based efforts in every corner of the nation. He may be right that "President Bush's faith-based initiative and larger compassion agenda proves that government can be a catalyst for solving some of society's biggest human needs," but I remain just as suspicious of government choosing one charity over another as I am about government choosing one business over another in corporate welfare.
I especially appreciated Hein's larger point. This revolution is quiet. Bush isn't given enough credit for it. The small armies of compassion are noticed from time to time, but the larger impact tends to be overlooked by political pundits and the press. Hein does a great service by pointing them out and encouraging all of us to be a part.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
Friday, June 12, 2015
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Baptists in America, by Thomas S. Kidd and Barry Hankins
From outcasts and outsiders, to power brokers and insiders, Baptists in America have run the gamut. Baptist historians Thomas Kidd and Barry Hankins have described that gamut in Baptists in America: A History. From the pre-colonial era right up to the 21st century, Kidd and Hankins examine the character, theology, and role of Baptists in American history.
The first half of the history of Baptists in America made me proud to call myself a Baptist. We all know that many of the early colonists came to America for religious freedom. What is often forgotten is that some of them only wanted freedom for their own kind; Baptists were excluded from enjoying that freedom. Some New England Baptists wondered "whether their liberties were safer under the king of England than under colonial authorities." Baptists were imprisoned, beaten, and forbidden from meeting. They were compelled to pay taxes to support state churches. Yet as the colonies won their independence from England, the Baptists' insistence on religious liberty won the day.
Other parts of the history of Baptists in America gave me mixed feelings about being a Southern Baptist. In the growing nation, slavery became a more and more contested issue. Southern Baptists eventually split off from their northern brethren. They unconscionably defended slavery using scripture. They believed that slavery was sometimes an occasion for sin, but that the institution itself was OK. In spite of this terrible oversight (not exclusive to Baptists, of course), the Southern Baptists retained a more Orthodox theological position, in contrast to their counterparts up north, who succumbed to the liberal influences of the Social Gospel and higher criticism.
The final portion of Baptists in America reminded my why I no longer attend a Southern Baptist church. Mirroring the earlier conflicts over higher criticism, Southern Baptists in the late 20th century began narrowing the definition of Baptist, and actively excluding those who did not fit the bill. Kidd and Hankins give a nice summary history of this period of Southern Baptist life, but I felt like they were too kind to the movement. The witch hunt mentality, the outright lies that were told, the careers that were derailed, not the mention the institutions that were weakened and the personal relationships that were destroyed, all set in motion a further dissembling and weakening of the Southern Baptist Convention. This controversy led, in part, to my departure from the SBC, as well as many other Baptists.
I wish they would have covered a parallel controversy, which also played a role in many Baptists' departure for other churches. I found it interesting that, according to Kidd and Hankins, some of the early Baptist movements in America were accompanied by signs and wonders and spiritual manifestations. At some point along the way, however, Baptists became cessationists, claiming that manifestation gifts (tongues, healing, words of knowledge) were only practiced during the apostolic age and are no longer valid. About the same time the witch hunt for "liberals" was in force in the SBC, a charismatic movement was sweeping through American denominations, including Baptists. While a few churches embraced the movement, the Convention as a whole rejected it, calling home (firing) missionaries and other denominational workers who were reputed to be exercising these gifts. I wondered what Kidd and Hankins might say about this, but it wasn't addressed. (Perhaps my personal experience has inflated in my mind the importance of this expression of Baptist life!)
Kidd and Hankins's overall theme is compelling. Baptists have, in just a few hundred years, progressed from being a tiny, persecuted minority, to being a huge, diverse, and powerful force in the global church and in American life as a whole. Yet at the heart of Baptist life is a feeling of outsider status. While few Baptists hold to the Landmarkian belief that only their little strain of Baptists are true Christians, Baptists tend stubbornly to believe their way is the right way (as evidenced by the countless schisms among Baptists as they disagree about what the right way really is).
I enjoyed Kidd and Hankins's readable, engaging history. Baptists in America follows the contours of Baptist life, and is chock full of anecdote after anecdote of the activities of our Baptist forebears. I had some seminars with Hankins as student at Baylor and remember well the passion for engaging his subject; that passion comes through in Baptists in America. (I don't know Kidd, but I suspect he shares Hankins's passion and engagement.)
Kidd and Hankins conclude that there is little that defines what a Baptist is, other than "evangelism and schism." They write, "Historically, a Baptist church is a local body of baptized believers who come together and call themselves Baptist." I would think that many churches (like my own) who have eschewed denominational labels would trace their roots to Baptist denominations and would still be included in the Baptist family. Even though the word Baptist is nowhere found on my church sign, and even though my church doesn't participate in any Baptist denominational life, Kidd and Hankins have reminded me that perhaps I am still a Baptist after all.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
The first half of the history of Baptists in America made me proud to call myself a Baptist. We all know that many of the early colonists came to America for religious freedom. What is often forgotten is that some of them only wanted freedom for their own kind; Baptists were excluded from enjoying that freedom. Some New England Baptists wondered "whether their liberties were safer under the king of England than under colonial authorities." Baptists were imprisoned, beaten, and forbidden from meeting. They were compelled to pay taxes to support state churches. Yet as the colonies won their independence from England, the Baptists' insistence on religious liberty won the day.
Other parts of the history of Baptists in America gave me mixed feelings about being a Southern Baptist. In the growing nation, slavery became a more and more contested issue. Southern Baptists eventually split off from their northern brethren. They unconscionably defended slavery using scripture. They believed that slavery was sometimes an occasion for sin, but that the institution itself was OK. In spite of this terrible oversight (not exclusive to Baptists, of course), the Southern Baptists retained a more Orthodox theological position, in contrast to their counterparts up north, who succumbed to the liberal influences of the Social Gospel and higher criticism.
The final portion of Baptists in America reminded my why I no longer attend a Southern Baptist church. Mirroring the earlier conflicts over higher criticism, Southern Baptists in the late 20th century began narrowing the definition of Baptist, and actively excluding those who did not fit the bill. Kidd and Hankins give a nice summary history of this period of Southern Baptist life, but I felt like they were too kind to the movement. The witch hunt mentality, the outright lies that were told, the careers that were derailed, not the mention the institutions that were weakened and the personal relationships that were destroyed, all set in motion a further dissembling and weakening of the Southern Baptist Convention. This controversy led, in part, to my departure from the SBC, as well as many other Baptists.
I wish they would have covered a parallel controversy, which also played a role in many Baptists' departure for other churches. I found it interesting that, according to Kidd and Hankins, some of the early Baptist movements in America were accompanied by signs and wonders and spiritual manifestations. At some point along the way, however, Baptists became cessationists, claiming that manifestation gifts (tongues, healing, words of knowledge) were only practiced during the apostolic age and are no longer valid. About the same time the witch hunt for "liberals" was in force in the SBC, a charismatic movement was sweeping through American denominations, including Baptists. While a few churches embraced the movement, the Convention as a whole rejected it, calling home (firing) missionaries and other denominational workers who were reputed to be exercising these gifts. I wondered what Kidd and Hankins might say about this, but it wasn't addressed. (Perhaps my personal experience has inflated in my mind the importance of this expression of Baptist life!)
Kidd and Hankins's overall theme is compelling. Baptists have, in just a few hundred years, progressed from being a tiny, persecuted minority, to being a huge, diverse, and powerful force in the global church and in American life as a whole. Yet at the heart of Baptist life is a feeling of outsider status. While few Baptists hold to the Landmarkian belief that only their little strain of Baptists are true Christians, Baptists tend stubbornly to believe their way is the right way (as evidenced by the countless schisms among Baptists as they disagree about what the right way really is).
I enjoyed Kidd and Hankins's readable, engaging history. Baptists in America follows the contours of Baptist life, and is chock full of anecdote after anecdote of the activities of our Baptist forebears. I had some seminars with Hankins as student at Baylor and remember well the passion for engaging his subject; that passion comes through in Baptists in America. (I don't know Kidd, but I suspect he shares Hankins's passion and engagement.)
Kidd and Hankins conclude that there is little that defines what a Baptist is, other than "evangelism and schism." They write, "Historically, a Baptist church is a local body of baptized believers who come together and call themselves Baptist." I would think that many churches (like my own) who have eschewed denominational labels would trace their roots to Baptist denominations and would still be included in the Baptist family. Even though the word Baptist is nowhere found on my church sign, and even though my church doesn't participate in any Baptist denominational life, Kidd and Hankins have reminded me that perhaps I am still a Baptist after all.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Mark Twain's Guide to Diet, Exercise, Beauty, Fashion, Investment, Romance, Health and Happiness, by Mark Dawidziak
Surely there's no greater example of great American literature that the writings of Mark Twain. Mark Dawidziak has culled through Twain's opus and put the pieces together to concoct Mark Twain's Guide to Diet, Exercise, Beauty, Fashion, Investment, Romance, Health and Happiness. Drawing from his books, speeches, letters, interviews, and various other sources, Dawidziak compiles examples of Twain's trademark wit and wisdom.
On one level, Mark Twain's Guide seems like the product of someone's running key word searches on Twain's collected works and putting the results into book form. But that's really OK. The selections are apt, nicely organized, and each chapter includes an appropriately witty introduction. If you're a reader of Twain, you'll find some expected favorites. If you're only slightly acquainted with Twain's work, you'll find quotes from books you've never heard of. Some of the best quotes are from speeches and letters, which may not have been seen frequently before.
Some of Twain's advice is terrific: "The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer somebody else up."
Some is contrarian: "The lack of money is the root of all evil."
Some is cheeky: "Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself."
And some just sums it all up: "Let us endeavor to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry."
Whatever your previous exposure to Twain, Mark Twain's Guide is sure to point you back to your favorites or to explore some of his writing you haven't explored before.
Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
On one level, Mark Twain's Guide seems like the product of someone's running key word searches on Twain's collected works and putting the results into book form. But that's really OK. The selections are apt, nicely organized, and each chapter includes an appropriately witty introduction. If you're a reader of Twain, you'll find some expected favorites. If you're only slightly acquainted with Twain's work, you'll find quotes from books you've never heard of. Some of the best quotes are from speeches and letters, which may not have been seen frequently before.
Some of Twain's advice is terrific: "The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer somebody else up."
Some is contrarian: "The lack of money is the root of all evil."
Some is cheeky: "Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself."
And some just sums it all up: "Let us endeavor to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry."
Whatever your previous exposure to Twain, Mark Twain's Guide is sure to point you back to your favorites or to explore some of his writing you haven't explored before.
Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Wizzywig, by Ed Piskor
He rigs electronics, pirates games, and sets a computer virus on the loose. Piskor captures the culture of the 70s and the growing subculture of hackers and BBS users (that's bulletin board system users). Many of them were punks, up to no good. But, frankly, we owe much about the way we work and communicate to the trails these guys (almost inevitably guys) blazed for us. Wizzywig might be a walk down memory lane for computer nerds, but it's a history lesson for everyone else.
Just a harmless, annoying little virus. . . .
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
Friday, June 5, 2015
What Works, by Cal Thomas
Cal Thomas has been a conservative voice of reason and insight in culture and politics for many years. His new book, What Works: Common Sense Solutions for a Stronger America, presents material from some of his columns and speeches, as well as new material, in plans for what works in our changing world.
That Thomas is a conservative will surprise no one who has read his columns (much less anyone who remembers that he was vice president of the Moral Majority). There is probably very little that he and Rush Limbaugh would find to disagree on. But as entertaining as Rush and other conservative radio commentators are, Thomas brings a level of logic and good will that sets him apart.
Thomas has little patience for over-reliance on government for social policy, especially with regard to poverty relief. He writes that government has been come a first resource rather than a last resort. Contrary to a welfare state mentality, "real compassion consists not in endless government checks but in helping those less fortunate become 'unpoor' by moving them away from government dependence."
In another section, I enjoyed his take on criminal justice. (Here he breaks from the typical "tough on crime" red-meat conservative.) He calls for "alternatives to incarceration for nonviolent, nondangerous offenders" which "have a better chance of transforming lives." He emphasizes restitution to victims and rehabilitation for criminals. He makes a strong case and makes me wish some of this thinking could be put into practice right now.
So if you're wondering what works to solve problems of the economy, health care, crime, family issues, and governance, Cal Thomas has some good answers. He's frank, principled, and well-grounded. We can only hope that someone in Washington is listening.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
That Thomas is a conservative will surprise no one who has read his columns (much less anyone who remembers that he was vice president of the Moral Majority). There is probably very little that he and Rush Limbaugh would find to disagree on. But as entertaining as Rush and other conservative radio commentators are, Thomas brings a level of logic and good will that sets him apart.
Thomas has little patience for over-reliance on government for social policy, especially with regard to poverty relief. He writes that government has been come a first resource rather than a last resort. Contrary to a welfare state mentality, "real compassion consists not in endless government checks but in helping those less fortunate become 'unpoor' by moving them away from government dependence."
In another section, I enjoyed his take on criminal justice. (Here he breaks from the typical "tough on crime" red-meat conservative.) He calls for "alternatives to incarceration for nonviolent, nondangerous offenders" which "have a better chance of transforming lives." He emphasizes restitution to victims and rehabilitation for criminals. He makes a strong case and makes me wish some of this thinking could be put into practice right now.
So if you're wondering what works to solve problems of the economy, health care, crime, family issues, and governance, Cal Thomas has some good answers. He's frank, principled, and well-grounded. We can only hope that someone in Washington is listening.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Riding the Bus with My Sister, by Rachel Simon
I first encountered Rachel Simon in her powerful novel The Story of Beautiful Girl. As great as that story is, real life can be even better. In Riding the Bus with My Sister: A True-Life Journey, Rachel introduces her sister, Beth. Beth is Rachel's younger sister, by less than a year. She lives alone in an apartment in a nearby city. She doesn't have a job, but spends all day riding the city buses around town. And she is intellectually disabled.
Rachel spends a year going to Beth's town to ride the bus with her. She discovers the community Beth has found--and built--among the bus drivers and other bus riders. Through flash-backs to their childhood, interactions with others, and their love/bickering (in other words, sisterly, relationship), Rachel learns much about her sister and herself.
While Riding the Bus with My Sister is a personal memoir, dwelling on these sisters' relationship, it ends up being much more. It's not a handbook for dealing with adults with disabilities, but it covers much that such a handbook would cover. Dealing with finances, making provision for communication and emergencies, maintaining health and grooming, teaching about relationships and, well, reproductive choices, all factor in to Rachel and Beth's story. I appreciated Beth's take on her jobs at sheltered workshops. Putting bolts in a baggie? She didn't want any of that! Parents and siblings of individuals with disabilities would do well to start with Riding the Bus if they have questions about what the future may hold.
Don't get me wrong, their story is very entertaining and, at times moving. But once the glow of the story is over, the lasting questions linger--what will I do when my little girl is a grown up? Will she want to live independently? Have a job? Ride the bus? I hope I have the grace and wisdom to release and support my daughter the way Beth's family has.
Rachel spends a year going to Beth's town to ride the bus with her. She discovers the community Beth has found--and built--among the bus drivers and other bus riders. Through flash-backs to their childhood, interactions with others, and their love/bickering (in other words, sisterly, relationship), Rachel learns much about her sister and herself.
While Riding the Bus with My Sister is a personal memoir, dwelling on these sisters' relationship, it ends up being much more. It's not a handbook for dealing with adults with disabilities, but it covers much that such a handbook would cover. Dealing with finances, making provision for communication and emergencies, maintaining health and grooming, teaching about relationships and, well, reproductive choices, all factor in to Rachel and Beth's story. I appreciated Beth's take on her jobs at sheltered workshops. Putting bolts in a baggie? She didn't want any of that! Parents and siblings of individuals with disabilities would do well to start with Riding the Bus if they have questions about what the future may hold.
Don't get me wrong, their story is very entertaining and, at times moving. But once the glow of the story is over, the lasting questions linger--what will I do when my little girl is a grown up? Will she want to live independently? Have a job? Ride the bus? I hope I have the grace and wisdom to release and support my daughter the way Beth's family has.
Monday, June 1, 2015
F, by Daniel Kehlmann
F is a strange little novel by German author Daniel Kehlmann. After a hypnotist suggests/convinces/coerces Arthur Friedland to pursue his dream of writing, he leaves his family, disappearing. His three sons don't hear from him for years. One grows up to be a priest who is an atheist. One has an investment firm specializing in pyramid schemes. One is an art dealer who builds a mediocre artist's reputation on forgery and manipulation. Their three stories intersect and blend, while their father, now a famous writer, lurks in and out of their lives.
I enjoyed their stories on a certain level, for the questions pondered by Kehlmann. To what extent can a priest effectively minister if he himself does not believe in God? Is there ever a point at which pleasing one's customer takes precedence over strict adherence to bookkeeping and market regulations? Who are the arbiters of beauty and the determinants of value in the art world? In a sense, the questions are easy, and the three brothers are all scoundrels. But Kehlmann gives them each enough complexity and sympathy that the questions are at least interesting.
I didn't find anything to hate in F, but I didn't find much to love. In spite of the somewhat interesting lives of the three brothers, and the way Kehlmann interwove their days, there wasn't enough her for me to really like the novel. F will appeal to a certain sort of reader, but I'm not really one of them.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
I enjoyed their stories on a certain level, for the questions pondered by Kehlmann. To what extent can a priest effectively minister if he himself does not believe in God? Is there ever a point at which pleasing one's customer takes precedence over strict adherence to bookkeeping and market regulations? Who are the arbiters of beauty and the determinants of value in the art world? In a sense, the questions are easy, and the three brothers are all scoundrels. But Kehlmann gives them each enough complexity and sympathy that the questions are at least interesting.
I didn't find anything to hate in F, but I didn't find much to love. In spite of the somewhat interesting lives of the three brothers, and the way Kehlmann interwove their days, there wasn't enough her for me to really like the novel. F will appeal to a certain sort of reader, but I'm not really one of them.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!
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