Tag: 2 Stars Page 1 of 9

BLOGIVERSARY REPOST: Pros and Cons: A Short Story by Janet Evanovich & Lee Goldberg

To commemorate the 11th Blogiversary of The Irresponsible Reader, I’m reposting the first six books (or, I guess, stories) I blogged about this week. This post got me my first comment here—from Goldberg himself! I did go on to love the series (at least until Goldberg moved on), so the first thing I predicted came true.


I spent the better part of an hour writing a different review this morning — it wasn’t as good as I wanted it to be, but I’d worked on it a lot. And then I lost it. One stupid, wrong and mostly stupid click of the mouse and …poof. Didn’t have time to try to recreate it, but wanted to post something new today. And hey, I just purchased the Evanovich/Goldberg short story, Pros and Cons. Perfect! That’d fit the bill. Right? well…

—–

Pros and Cons: A Short Story (O'Hare and Fox, #0.5)Pros and Cons: A Short Story by Janet Evanovich and Lee Goldberg
Series: Fox and O’Hare, #0.5
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I’ve been eagerly awaiting The Heist since it was first announced — I’m a big fan of both Janet Evanovich and Lee Goldberg, so when this short story prequel was released I couldn’t resist.

I probably should have found the will power. This, at best, was not bad. Amusing at times, but most of the humor felt forced. Even then, the humor was overly broad most of the time. Worse than that, the story was chock-full of exposition dumps that are almost worthy of Dan Brown.

That said, I’ve read almost 30 books by these two over the years and have no doubt that the novels are going to be better. The primary characters — Agent O’Hare and scoundrel Fox, are promising and chock-full of potential. Sure, I’m a little less enthused about The Heist than I was yesterday, but I’ll get over that once it’s in my hot little hands.

Short version: Skip this tease, come back for the real thing.

BLOGIVERSARY REPOST: Christ Of The Bible And The Church’s Faith by Geoffrey Grogan

To commemorate the 11th Blogiversary of The Irresponsible Reader, I’m reposting the first six books I blogged about this week. We’ll start here.


Christ Of The Bible And The Church
Christ Of The Bible And The Church by Grogan, Geoffrey
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

It’s tough to know what to say about this, it’s a wholly carefully-written, exhaustive, entirely orthodox look at Christ as set forth in Scripture and in the doctrines of the Church. It’s an apologetic for the Faith once delivered as well as an explanation of it.

However, wow. It just didn’t work for me at all. The points I liked, I’ve seen better developed, better explained elsewhere. His most evangelical moments seemed half-hearted and perfunctory (although I don’t think they were, it just struck me that way). He is far too concerned with unbelieving scholarship, and does not respond to critics with as much force and thoroughness as he ought. There’s just doesn’t seem to be much heart to this work.

Your results may vary, certainly any book carrying the cover blurbs on it that this does would catch my eye, and I’d expect to be well worth the time, but this just didn’t work for me.

America Fantastica (Audibook) by Tim O’Brien, Oliver Wyman (Narrator): Nothing Fantastic…or Worth Bothering With

America FantasticaAmerica Fantastica

by Tim O’Brien, Oliver Wyman (Narrator)

DETAILS:
Publisher: HarperAudio
Publication Date: October 24, 2023
Format: Unabridged Audiobook
Length: 13 hrs., 39 min. 
Read Date: January 9-16, 2024
Buy from Bookshop.org Support Indie Bookstores

How Does the Publisher Describe America Fantasica?

HarperCollins.com says:

At 11:34 a.m. one Saturday in August 2019, Boyd Halverson strode into Community National Bank in Northern California.

“How much is on hand, would you say?” he asked the teller. “I’ll want it all.”

“You’re robbing me?”

He revealed a Temptation .38 Special.

The teller, a diminutive redhead named Angie Bing, collected eighty-one thousand dollars.

Boyd stuffed the cash into a paper grocery bag.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said, “but I’ll have to ask you to take a ride with me.”

So begins the adventure of Boyd Halverson—star journalist turned notorious online disinformation troll turned JCPenney manager—and his irrepressible hostage, Angie Bing. Haunted by his past and weary of his present, Boyd has one goal before the authorities catch up with him: settle a score with the man who destroyed his life. By Monday the pair reach Mexico; by winter, they are in a lakefront mansion in Minnesota. On their trail are hitmen, jealous lovers, ex-cons, an heiress, a billionaire shipping tycoon, a three-tour veteran of Iraq, and the ghosts of Boyd’s past. Everyone, it seems, except the police.

In the tradition of Jonathan Swift and Mark Twain, America Fantastica delivers a biting, witty, and entertaining story about the causes and costs of outlandish fantasy, while also marking the triumphant return of an essential voice in American letters. And at the heart of the novel, amid a teeming cast of characters, readers will delight in the tug-of-war between two memorable and iconic human beings—the exuberant savior-of-souls Angie Bing and the penitent but compulsive liar Boyd Halverson. Just as Tim O’Brien’s modern classic, The Things They Carried, so brilliantly reflected the unromantic truth of war, America Fantastica puts a mirror to a nation and a time that has become dangerously unmoored from truth and greedy for delusion.

How Was the Narration?

It was fine—any problems I had with the book weren’t on Wyman’s side. He didn’t work too hard on making each character stand out from the others with a distinct voice so that in each scene you knew immediately who was talking, but this isn’t the kind of book that lends itself to that. Also, the book didn’t become hard to follow because of that—nor did individual scenes. That’s all I really care about (as much as I might enjoy very distinct characters when the narrator does that).

The one heavily accented character’s accent didn’t sound quite right to my ears, but I’m not precisely sure what their accent should’ve sounded like. And…well, in context, I’m not sure their accent should’ve sounded right.

Basically, Wyman did well enough, and I’d easily listen to something else he narrated.

So, what did I think about America Fantastica?

I’m going to sound a little self-contradictory here. I think I missed most of the point of this book/narrative, and O’Brien was as subtle as a pallet of bricks.

There are intercalary chapters/sections (I’d have to see the print version to know for sure) describing the spread of “mythomania” across the nation like an infection (to be followed by COVID). And this is very clearly what the book is supposed to be about—contemporary America’s hunger for lies, half-truths, alternative facts, myths, whatever you want to call it. I’m not disinclined to argue with this as a whole—I just found these portions wanting. I’m not sure what it was I didn’t respond to here–lack of nuance and a feeling that O’Brien was trying to be too clever, come close, but really I just can’t put my finger on it.

Then there’s the narrative—narratives. I didn’t connect with any of them for very long (if ever). I kept going because many of them seemed to be on the verge of paying off, or at least giving me something to sink my teeth into. If I didn’t know this was a satirical novel from the description, I wouldn’t have picked up on it. I’m not really sure I get everything that was being satired (and really don’t care). The best way I can describe the storylines was that someone took a bunch of discarded ideas from disparate Elmore Leonard novels and mashed them together, whether they fit or not, and without Leonard’s skill/craft—then threw COVID into it at the end.

O’Brien had some very clever ideas, some nice writing, and a good line here and there. But the ideas didn’t pay off, the writing went nowhere, and the good lines weren’t worth the effort to get to them.

Maybe this was the right book at the wrong time for me and if I’d read/listened to it a few months ago—or a few months from now—I’d be recommending it, maybe even raving about it. But I listened to it now, so that’s what we’re stuck with. So the me of “now” says that it was an endurance race for me. A determined effort for me to understand why I should like this. A reminder that the sunk cost fallacy is something that I’m very susceptible to.

I’m more than prepared for people to come along and tell me why I should’ve appreciated this. But I can’t recommend this to anyone, and I would recommend you look elsewhere for a good commentary on the U.S.


2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
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It’s Great to Suck at Something (Audiobook) by Karen Rinaldi: The Book Isn’t Quite Proof of the Title, But…

It's Great to Suck at SomethingIt’s Great to Suck at Something:
The Unexpected Joy of Wiping Out and What It Can Teach Us About Patience, Resilience, and the Stuff that Really Matters

by Karen Rinaldi

DETAILS:
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Audio
Publication Date: May 07, 2019
Format: Unabridged Audiobook
Length: 7 hrs., 15 min.
Read Date: June 12, 2023


What’s It’s Great to Suck at Something About?

The Publisher’s Description is:

When was the last time you tried something new? Something that won’t make you more productive, make you more money, or check anything off your to-do list? Something you’re really, really bad at, but that brought you joy?

Odds are, not recently. We live in a time of aspirational psychoses. We humblebrag about how hard we work and we prioritize productivity over happiness. Even kids don’t play for the sake of playing anymore: they’re building blocks to build the ideal college application. We’re told to be the best or nothing at all. We’re trapped in an epic and farcical quest for perfection and it’s all making us more anxious and depressed than ever.

This book provides the antidote. (It’s Great to) Suck at Something “shows how joy and growth come from risking failure and letting go of perfectionism” (The Wall Street Journal). Drawing on her personal experience sucking at surfing (a sport Karen Rinaldi’s dedicated nearly two decades of her life to doing without ever coming close to getting good at it) along with philosophy, literature, and the latest science, Rinaldi explores sucking as a lost art we must reclaim for our health and our sanity and helps us find the way to our own riotous suck-ability. Sucking at something rewires our brain in positive ways, helps us cultivate grit, and inspires us to find joy in the process, without obsessing about the destination. Ultimately, it gives you freedom: the freedom to suck without caring is revelatory.

My description would be—Rinaldi is a devoted surfer. That doesn’t mean that she’s a good one—she has witnesses and video evidence to back that up. But she doesn’t care—she still loves it. In fact, she’s learned a lot about herself—and probably about the way people tick—from being a lousy surfer, and now she has some good advice to share about being lousy at things (and continuing to do them). She weaves this advice with a semi-meandering recounting of her surfing career in the pages of this book.

A Quick Word About the Narration

Rinaldi’s narration on this was really good—I’d listen to her narrate another book easily. Maybe it’s easier because it’s her book and she knows the emotions she’s trying to evoke—but I’ve heard enough authors not know how to do that for me to really believe it.

So, what did I think about It’s Great to Suck at Something?

I should start by saying that I’m 100% on board with Rinaldi’s central thesis and think it’s something that more people need to embrace and practice. I just have problems with most of the rest of the book.

We’ve all been to those “meetings that could’ve been an email,” right?* As I was listening I kept thinking—this is a book that could’ve been an article. Maybe a series of them. Or a few blog posts. But it had no business being a book.

Of course, not at my current job. I’m talking exclusively about previous positions.

Or at least not this book. If this had been sold as a “memoir of a lousy but committed surfer with some advice you can apply to your own passions/hobbies.” It would’ve been fine. The book wasn’t about the benefits of sucking at things, it was about a big part of Rinaldi’s life, and through it she offered some observations on the human condition—some of which she can offer footnotes to.

The book really didn’t need the turn to spirituality it took toward the end. It was very out of place.

Trim the personal anecdotes to anecdotes/illustrations, amp up the advice (and the reasons for it) and you’ve got a decent, albeit shorter, book. But as it is, it’s hard for me to say that a reader or listener isn’t wasting their time.


2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

The Ballad of Bonaduke—Episode 15: A Walk In The Park by R. T. Slaywood: I’m Getting Tired of This

The Ballad of BonadukeThe Ballad of Bonaduke—
Episode 15: A Walk In The Park

by R.T. Slaywood

DETAILS:
Series: The Ballad of Bonaduke, #15
Format: Kindle Vella Story
Read Date: February 9, 2023

The Story So Far…

A drunken Michael Bonaduke decides to use a grift (with maybe some sort of magic/magic-like “help”) to win on a scratch-off lottery ticket so he has money to buy more to drink. He pulls off whatever he did, gets his money and some booze and stumbles off into the darkness to drink himself into oblivion so he can start again the next day. He’s hit by dark memories (probably what’s driving him to the drinking) of fire, pleading, and screaming. There’s going to be a price to pay for his grift, and he’s trying to be ready.

Before then, he gets himself drunk and we get some of his tragic backstory. As he ponders this, he decides to use some of his ill-gotten-gains to buy more booze and walks into a liquor store robbery. He foils it in some sort of magical fashion, gets some more to drink, and heads off to the park to drink until he’s arrested (probably for the failed robbery). At least that’s his plan, but it gets interrupted by being hit by a car. He wakes up on some sort of short, metal bed and is unsure what’s going on. It turns out that some group is subjecting him to a test—if he passes, everything will be explained to him (and hopefully the reader, too). He passes—and is brought somewhere for answers, or maybe training, or maybe another test. Time will tell (or things are going to get really annoying). Answers aren’t quick to come—but the mysteries and questions keep piling up.

Things get hairy and Bonaduke leaves and finds himself back in the neighborhood he started from.

What’s A Walk In The Park About?

So, our man needs a place to lay low and make some choices, so he heads to a homeless encampment he used to stay at. He apparently left under a cloud and it doesn’t seem he’s welcome.

So, what did I think about A Walk In The Park?

I think it’s fitting to just repeat what I said about the last episode here. If the story isn’t going to move, there’s no reason for my posts to move.

This is another filler episode where not much (anything) happens. I’m getting really tired of these. It’s hard to have an opinion about treading water. I feel shallow complaining about this, but…


2 Stars

The Ballad of Bonaduke—Episode 14: Consequence by R. T. Slaywood: Walking Quickly but Treading Water

The Ballad of BonadukeThe Ballad of Bonaduke—
Episode 14: Consequence

by R.T. Slaywood

DETAILS:
Series: The Ballad of Bonaduke, #12
Format: Kindle Vella Story
Read Date: February 2, 2023

The Story So Far…

A drunken Michael Bonaduke decides to use a grift (with maybe some sort of magic/magic-like “help”) to win on a scratch-off lottery ticket so he has money to buy more to drink. He pulls off whatever he did, gets his money and some booze and stumbles off into the darkness to drink himself into oblivion so he can start again the next day. He’s hit by dark memories (probably what’s driving him to the drinking) of fire, pleading, and screaming. There’s going to be a price to pay for his grift, and he’s trying to be ready.

Before then, he gets himself drunk and we get some of his tragic backstory. As he ponders this, he decides to use some of his ill-gotten-gains to buy more booze and walks into a liquor store robbery. He foils it in some sort of magical fashion, gets some more to drink, and heads off to the park to drink until he’s arrested (probably for the failed robbery). At least that’s his plan, but it gets interrupted by being hit by a car. He wakes up on some sort of short, metal bed and is unsure what’s going on. It turns out that some group is subjecting him to a test—if he passes, everything will be explained to him (and hopefully the reader, too). He passes—and is brought somewhere for answers, or maybe training, or maybe another test. Time will tell (or things are going to get really annoying). Answers aren’t quick to come—but the mysteries and questions keep piling up.

What’s Consequence About?

Bonaduke finds himself in front of the liquor store and sees some cops nearby. The last thing he wants is to be connected with the events he witnessed (but can’t prove he didn’t do)—so he tries to subtly walk away quickly. He also becomes convinced that he needs to get rid of the $5 bill he picked up from the liquor store thanks to his grift. That doesn’t work so well.

So, what did I think about Consequence?

This is another filler episode where not much (anything) happens. I’m getting really tired of these. It’s hard to have an opinion about treading water. I feel shallow complaining about this, but…


2 Stars

The Orville: Sympathy for the Devil by Seth MacFarlane: A Quick Dose of Preachiness in a Tie-In Wrapper

Sympathy for the DevilSympathy for the Devil

by Seth MacFarlane

DETAILS:
Series: The Orville 
Publisher: Disney Press
Publication Date: July 19th, 2022
Format: Kindle Edition
Length: 120 pg.
Read Date: September 3, 2022

The “Back” of the Book

Here’s what the Publisher said about the book, anything I say will ruin the book (and not because it put me in a foul mood):

An original novella set in season three of The Orville—straight from the pen of Seth MacFarlane, creator of the beloved sci-fi TV show!

When Captain Ed Mercer and the crew of the U.S.S. Orville come face-to-face with one of humanity’s most vile ideologies, they must solve the moral conundrum of who to hold accountable for evil deeds real… and imagined. Occurring just after episode 308, this is the Orville like you’ve never seen it before.

The Orville

I watched all three seasons of the show this year, after putting it off since I started to hear positive things about Season 1. I really appreciated most of this not-Star Trek, although like the show it totally isn’t ripping off,* it’s not perfect.

* Wink.

One thing that The Orville surpasses its inspiration in is its sanctimoniousness. When this show gets preachy, there’s nothing that compete with it. For the most part, I could endure those episodes, but a couple of them got pretty difficult. The last half of this book was pretty much one of those episodes. It’s a lot harder to tolerate without F/X to look at.

So, what did I think about Sympathy for the Devil?

There was almost nothing about this that made it an Orville story. Maybe others can describe this without giving everything away, but I can’t. Sure, every primary cast member from season 3 is in the novella—and some characters from other seasons are mentioned—so it’s technically an Orville story, but just technically. A good tie-in story should feel like a long or an in-depth version of the source IP. This couldn’t feel less like an episode.

And the writing? It was clearly written by someone who doesn’t do prose that often—scripts, sure. It was lazy writing, the descriptions of characters were clunky, the dialogue was iffy, and the pacing was poor. We don’t see a single character from the show until the 50% point.

Would I read another novella set in this universe? Oh, absolutely. Even another one by MacFarlane. I like the universe enough to give it another try. I just hope it’s a fun, SF adventure next time (maybe even with a touch of the condescension, it’s what the viewers expect). The only thing that was clearly delivered was the message.

Better Off Dead by Lee Child and Andrew Child: Readers Would Be Better Off Without this Reacher 2.0 Mess

Better Off Dead

Better Off Dead

by Lee Child and Andrew Child
Series: Jack Reacher, #26

Hardcover, 325 pg.
Delacorte Press, 2021

Read: December 7-9, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Better Off Dead About?

Continuing the westward journey he started back in Past Tense, Reacher finds himself about as close to the US/Mexican border as you can get in one of the smallest towns we’ve seen him in.

He encounters an Army vet hunting for her twin—who has gotten himself mixed up with some sort of smuggling operation—that might be getting into something more serious. Michaela Fenton gets Reacher to help out with a scheme to put her face-to-face with the head of the operation.

Things go south, and before you know it, it’s Reacher against this shadowy organization trying to save the Fenton twins and put an end to a plot that’s either an act of political protest or deadly attack (Reacher’s assuming the latter).

That doesn’t make a lot of sense—but trust me, something as convoluted as this plot doesn’t make it easy to summarize in a coherent fashion.

So, what did I think about Better Off Dead?

I strongly considered listing all my problems with this—but why bother? Venting my spleen might make me feel better, but I don’t want to spend the energy on it.

Let me try to be concise—it was a giant, implausible, mess. The original plan that Reacher and Fenton come up with to take down the bad guy makes every single machine that Rube Goldberg drew seem efficient and straightforward. I couldn’t believe that Reacher would sign on to it—and even after he started voicing concerns, he still went along with it. Reacher’s known for his brawn, but his brain has always been—up to this point, anyway–just as important (if not more so). This was just dumb.

I was annoyed very early on, texting a friend, “Worst.Reacher.Ever.” Although I noted that the Child brothers had 250 or so pages to make me change my mind. I really wanted them to. But man, those short stories about pre-teen/teenager Reacher in New York City or Okinawa look really good to me now.

The least troublesome part for me was the voice—Lee Child tended toward the third-person, but occasionally used first to great effect. This time, first-person didn’t help matter—and while I haven’t read any readers complain about it, a lot of what I have seen people complain about I think would’ve worked if it was in the third-person (and/or wouldn’t have been part of a third-person narration).

There were some good scenes, a handful of chapters that worked for me, in fact.* But they were a distinct minority. Still, in trying to be fair, I’d say if this was a thriller by a relative newcomer? I’d be more positive about it (not much more, but more). But Andrew Child (née Grant) has a dozen novels under his belt and Lee Child has twice that—also this is a Jack Reacher novel. There are standards that must be upheld.

*I’d planned on talking about some of those, but this post is longer than I’d intended it to be already, so let’s leave it at “the whole thing wasn’t a dumpster fire.”

I knew that there’s be some growing pains as Lee backed off to let Andrew take over, but this was worse than that. The Sentinel wasn’t perfect, but it was something to work from. Better Off Dead was a major setback and will take some work to recover from. Sadly, I bet that no one’s going to make Andrew buckle down and do that work (please, please, someone prove me wrong).

I walked away from the interview I heard with them a few weeks ago with the impression that Andrew doesn’t typically work with the “no outline” approach of Lee—maybe if he didn’t try to ape that style, he’d be better off. There were a few times in my notes I wondered if they’d changed their minds about where the plot was going.

Give this one a pass—go back and read/reread 61 Hours, Nothing to Lose, Personal, or…you know what? Anything from The Midnight Line or earlier. It’ll be time better spent.


2 Stars

2021 Library Love Challenge

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

The Church: An Introduction by Gregg Allison: Tries to Do Too Much and Falters

The Church: An Introduction

The Church: An Introduction

by Gregg Allison
Series: Short Studies in Systematic Theology

Paperback, 164 pg.
Crossway, 2021

Read: October 10, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s The Church: An Introduction About?

Allison starts with a good Introduction, sketching the ambiguity of the current English term “church”—driving home the need for a book like this. He then spends two chapters with the foundation—outlining both the relationship between the Trinity and the Church and then with a broad overview of the Scriptural doctrine of the Church.

Then he moves into the bulk of the book:

I will present the church in terms of its local expression according to the following topics: identity, leadership, government, ordinances or sacraments, ministries, and future. For each topic, the first section—mere ecclesiology—presents the common ground shared by most churches throughout history. This aspect addresses the essence, or core, of the church’s identity, leadership, government, ordinances or sacraments, ministries, and future. The second section—more ecclesiology—describes how this essence expresses itself in the actual identity, leadership, government, ordinances of sacraments, ministries, and future of particular churches.

So, what did I think about The Church: An Introduction?

In summary, ecclesiology properly begins with a consideration of the doctrine of God. Specifically, it is grounded in Trinitarian theology, which leads to this conclusion: There is one people of God, who from eternity past has graciously elected all those who will believe in him by faith and walk with him in obedience, worship, love, and service. This one people of God consists of two aspects: the people of Israel in old covenant relationship with him and the people of the church in new covenant relationship with him. Specifically in regard to this second aspect, the church is the body of Christ and temple of the Holy Spirit. As the body, the church submits to its head, celebrates its diversity of people and gifts, lives out its siblingship in all purity, and portrays and fosters its unity by participation in the Lord’s Supper. As the temple of the Holy Spirit, the church in which he dwells is birthed, empowered, gifted, directed, sent, and sanctified by the Spirit.

The first couple of chapters got me excited for the book, and then after that, each chapter annoyed me more. He totally squandered that start—the “Mere” portions of the chapters were generally decent, but far too short. The “More” portions on the other hand…didn’t belong in a book like this (for the most part)—to get into all my problems would involve getting into the nitty-gritty of the arguments. They seemed to be what he wanted to write about more than the “Mere” bits and aren’t really introductory ecclesiology.

Also, and this is just one of those things, one chapter felt like it was written in response to my pastor’s sermon that day—each point seemed to be counter one of his (or vice versa). I was already having issues with the book, but that might have been the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. (not that I think my pastor is infallible, it was just bad timing—and a bad take on the text)

If this was the first book in the Short Studies in Systematic Theology that I’d read, I probably wouldn’t have come back for more. But, as it’s the fifth, I can keep going, trusting that this was a fluke.

In the end, I think this book tried to do too much. It tried to be all things to all people rather than embracing a confessional point of view as well as getting hung up on the structure, and ends up not accomplishing much at all. Focusing on and fleshing out the “More” portions would’ve made for a better read, a more profitable read, and a less problematic read. File this one under “don’t bother.”


2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Why I Still Believe by Mary Jo Sharp: Mark 9:24 Lived Out

Why I Still Believe

Why I Still Believe:
A Former Atheist’s Reckoning
with the Bad Reputation
Christians Give a
Good God

by Mary Jo Sharp

Kindle Edition, 240 pg.
Zondervan, 2019

Read: August 1, 2021

What’s Why I Still Believe About?

For the sake of time, let me lift this from Sharp’s website:

With fresh and thoughtful insights, Why I Still Believe offers a spiritual narrative that presents relevant answers to haunting questions like:

  • Isn’t there too much pain and suffering to believe?
  • Is it okay to have doubt?
  • What if Jesus’ story is a copy of another story?
  • Is there any evidence for Jesus’ resurrection?
  • Does atheism explain the human experience better than Christianity can?
  • How can the truth of Christianity matter when the behaviors of Christians are reprehensible?

At once logical and loving, Sharp reframes the gospel as it truly is: the good news of redemption. With firmly grounded truths, Why I Still Believe is an affirming reminder that the hypocrisy of Christians can never negate the transforming grace and truth of Christ.

Sharp presents herself—warts and all—and her struggle with doubts, and some of what she’s found to address them. I want to stress what the description says about “a spiritual narrative”—that’s what this book is, and along the way, that narrative will touch on those bullet points. I’m not sure what the claim about “reframing the gospel” is about—how does it need “reframing” to be “the good news of redemption”? And as important as a reminder along those lines would be, this is more of an assertion about the hypocrisy of believers being unable to negate anything than it is a reminder (or defense of the faith for it).

Ultimately, I think this is a story about a woman being let down by the shepherds of Christ’s Church—she needed help, she needed guidance, she needed pastoral care and aid in finding the answers that she needed. In the absence of that shepherding, she had to help herself.

So, what did I think about Why I Still Believe?

The chapters that follow are snapshots of my experience in the church and how those experiences shaped me and my beliefs. If you feel the ever-present tension of the beauty of salvation alongside the ugliness of human hypocrisy and evil, you’re not alone. If you are uncomfortable in the church but feel the risk of commitment calling, this book is for you. It is for those who’ve wondered if they’ve been left a cosmic orphan, and wondered again if there’s more to this unshakeable longing to belong. I can’t promise any tidy endings, but there’s still an irresistible Hope.

I’m not going to talk about all the problems I have with what Sharp presented, but there were many. The above quotation is the concluding sentences of the Introduction. Set against those goals, I think she succeeds—she shows that the reader who matches those qualifications isn’t alone, she doesn’t deliver any tidy endings (and the tidy things she does present aren’t really that tidy), and she does assert that there’s an irresistible Hope. What she doesn’t do is give much of a reason for faith against the tension between the beauty of salvation and the ugliness; she doesn’t assure anyone that there’s every reason to commit to Christ’s Bride despite the weaknesses and personal discomfort—nor does she tell the reader much about the Hope she asserts to point to.

What we do get is an honest account of one woman’s stumbling through life, looking for the certainty of faith, looking for answers the Church should provide “to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15), and who doesn’t find much. Yet there’s still faith to be found, which is commendable, it is relatable—it is good to know that as we stumble along the path that we’re not alone.

There’s value in this, but that’s not what the book promised, so I can’t get that excited about what it delivered. There’s not a lot of apologetics, there’s not a lot of Bible, there’s not a lot of biblical justification for assurance—there’s almost no Gospel. There are some arguments for the existence of a Deity, but not for the Triune God of the Christian Scriptures. There’s some arguing about some facts about the Resurrection of Christ—but not about what that means.

A lot of what’s labeled (by others or itself) “Evangelicalism” today is really some sort of “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism”—and that’s about as close as we get to Christianity in these pages. Although, I’m not convinced Sharp actually delivered that much of anything “Moralistic”—Therapeutic Deism is about it. I’m not saying Sharp isn’t an orthodox believer—I’m just saying that I don’t see much along those lines in this book.

Here I said I wasn’t going to get too deep into my problems—and I really haven’t, but I’ve gotten further along the path than I meant to. So I’m going to stop.

When it came to assigning the nearly-obligatory Stars, I was torn—just what do I rate this? I ended up looking at my own definition of my ratings, and read: “Don’t bother. It’s not bad per se, it’s just not good.” That about sums it up for me.

Can someone read this and benefit? I can’t say that there’s no chance of it, I’m just not sure what grounds there would be for claiming it’s useful. The dross to gold ratio doesn’t give me a reason to recommend this.


2 Stars

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