Tag: 5 Stars Page 3 of 21

In the Fullness of Time: An Introduction to the Biblical Theology of Acts and Paul by Richard B. Gaffin Jr.: One of the Best Things I’ve Read in Years

On February 12, 2023

In Non-Fiction, Theology/Christian Living

I can’t put this one off any longer—if I could, I promise you I would. I’m out of my league here, but I’ve got nothing else to write about. And I really need to write something about this.

In the Fullness of Time: An Introduction to the Biblical Theology of Acts and Paul

by Richard B. Gaffin Jr.

DETAILS:
Publisher: Crossway
Publication Date: May 3, 2022
Format: Hardcover
Length: 419 pg.
Read Date: September 4-December 25, 2022

What’s In the Fullness of Time About?

First, let’s look at what was on the Publisher’s Website:

An Exegetical Study of the Book of Acts and Pauline Theology

Christians often skip a crucial starting point when studying the apostle Paul: the foundations of his deeply nuanced theology. Some studies on the book of Acts attempt to touch on every major theme in Paul’s letters, making them difficult to understand or prone to leaving out important nuances. Christians need a biblical, theological, and exegetically grounded framework to thoroughly understand Paul’s theology.

In this book, Richard B. Gaffin Jr. gives readers an accessible introduction to Acts and Paul. Building on a lifetime of study, Gaffin teaches on topics including the redemptive-historical significance of Pentecost; eschatology; and the fulfillment of redemptive history in the death and resurrection of Christ. In the Fullness of Time is an exegetical “textbook” for pastors, students, and lay leaders seeking to learn more about Acts and Paul from a Reformed and evangelical perspective.

Explores the Foundations of Paul’s Theology: Offers a nuanced look at the core of Paul’s thinking

Wide-Ranging Audience: A valuable study for pastors, theology students, and lay leaders

Thorough Yet Accessible: An in-depth look at Pauline theology that’s accessible to readers

After reading the book, however, I’d offer a tweak or two to that description. For example, I’d add to that “for pastors, students, and lay leaders” lay people in general (or just swap out “leaders” for “people”).

Also, I’m not sure I’d include eschatology alongside those other topics. It seemed to me (on first read, anyway) that this was a book about Eschatology as presented by/understood through the New Testament—with a focus on understanding Pentecost and the fulfillment of redemption (and a couple of other topics) in light of that eschatology. That may seem like splitting hairs, and really, I’m guessing the good people at Crossway understand the book a bit better than I do. Still, I didn’t get the impression that the book thought of those ideas as equal (unlike the description).

The chapters in this book came from lecture notes for the class that Gaffin taught for years on Paul and Acts—a class I’ve heard several people mention over the years, and really wish I could’ve taken. Getting that material in written form is a blessing I didn’t expect and was more than happy to receive.

The Centrality of Eschatology

In Chapter 2, Gaffin writes:

for much Christian theology and preaching seeking to be faithful to the Bible as God’s inscripturated word, the rediscovery of eschatology can be seen as having a corrective significance that has resulted in laying hold of biblical teaching in a way that has not been fully appreciated in the past.

For instance, in a standard volume on systematic theology, “Eschatology” is the last chapter. More significantly, coming at the end of the volume, eschatology tends to be defined exclusively in terms of the “last things” having to do with what is still future for the church—Christ’s return and matters concomitant with his return, perhaps including as well some treatment of what occurs at death and the so-called intermediate state. Even more significantly, very often little, if any, attention is given to the relationship with what has preceded, to the integral connection between the future hope of the church and its present life and the practical relevance of the former for the latter.

What has become more and more clear is that in an overall presentation of biblical teaching, eschatology is not properly compartmentalized at the end. In particular, the New Testament teaches, as our own work will show, what is often termed a “realized eschatology.” Biblical eschatology is to be defined in terms of the first as well as the second coming of Christ. New Testament eschatology has a dual focus. In that respect it is elliptical, defined by two foci, present and future, the proverbial already-not-yet.

It’s this dual focus that characterizes so much of this book, and grounds the arguments Gaffin puts forth.

The Exegetical Portions

Throughout the book, Gaffin offers a lengthier exegesis of a particular passage as either a foundation for a chapter’s position or to show how something from earlier in a chapter is worked out through Paul or Luke’s work. These are the best parts of this book.

Period. It’s not even close.

For example, he uses a little more than two pages to exegete Philippians 2:12-13 while considering the indicative and imperative in Paul. I don’t remember a better example of writing leading to doxology recently.

I get—between this being based on the course, where he only had so much time and the design of the book—that he couldn’t have given us similar treatment for several more passages that he touched upon. But man, I wish he had. But that brushes up on the next section, so I guess it’s time to transition.

Could Use A Little More

In addition to wanting more exegetical portions, there’s something else I could use more of.

I think that despite the length of the book, it should’ve been longer—too much needs to be fleshed out a little more. Not much, but almost every point could be expressed more fully. More than once, Gaffin does a better job of clarifying what he’s not addressing or not saying than he does in making it clear what he is trying to say.

So, what did I think about In the Fullness of Time?

I read a chapter (or just a half of one) a week for a few months to carefully work through the book—and I’m sure I need to do the same (or slower) once or twice more to really get a handle on Gaffin’s arguments. But what I got this time around was about as good as anyone could ask for.

Reading this felt like I was sitting in a lecture hall featuring my favorite professor—in a strange way. I felt like I was a beginning student—almost like looking at some of these passages for the first time. Yet, while reading I simultaneously felt like I was understanding texts with a depth I’m not accustomed to. Reading Gaffin you’re frequently running into thinking more subtle and profound than a lot of what you’ve encountered previously—and that’s certainly the case here. Still, I thought this work was a bit easier to work through than some of his shorter works.

For me, this is the kind of work that you want to read alongside one or more others, so you can pause and talk things through from time to time—just to make sure everyone is understanding everything. Or at least you’re stupified with company.

Anyway, I don’t think I have anything else to say at this point—maybe on the eventual reread, I’ll be able to say something more substantive than this. Basically, you want to read this, wrestle with it, study it, and do it again.

5 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 Perception of Dolls by Anthony Croix, Edited by Russell Day: Creepy Dolls, Creepy dolls, and Creepy do!!s

By HCNewton

On January 31, 2023

In Fiction, Russell Day

I did a lousy job on this…I’m just not capable of discussing this book properly. But I gave it a shot, though.

The Perception Of Dolls

by Anthony Croix, Edited by Russell Day

DETAILS:
Publisher: Fahrenheit Press
Publication Date: December 2, 2023
Format: Hardcover
Length: 277 pg.
Read Date: January 16-19, 2023

What’s The Perception Of Dolls About?

There’s no way to simply talk about this book. Period. So this is going to take a bit, bear with me. Let’s start with this from the Publisher’s site:

“It’s almost as if history is trying to erase the whole affair.” – Anthony Croix

The triple murder and failed suicide that took place at 37 Fantoccini Street in 2001, raised little media interest at the time. In a week heavy with global news, a ‘domestic tragedy’ warranted few column inches. The case was open and shut, the inquest was brief and the ‘Doll Murders’ – little more than a footnote in the ledgers of Britain’s true crime enthusiasts – were largely forgotten.

Nevertheless, investigations were made, police files generated, testimonies recorded, and conclusions reached. The reports are there, a matter of public record, for those with a mind to look.

The details of what took place in Fantoccini Street in the years that followed are less accessible. The people involved in the field trips to number 37 are often unwilling, or unable, to talk about what they witnessed. The hours of audio recordings, video tapes, written accounts, photographs, drawings, and even online postings are elusive, almost furtive.

In fact, were it not for a chance encounter between the late Anthony Croix and an obsessive collector of Gothic dolls, the Fantoccini Street Reports might well have been lost forever.

But that’s not all—the late Anthony Croix was an independent journalist, and from that encounter with the doll collector, he gets on the trail of 37 Fantoccini Street and what happened there—from the murders to the repeated trips by students from London North University looking into paranormal activity on the site.

Croix conducted those interviews with those from the visits who were still alive and capable of being interviewed, and wrote up descriptions of the photographs and videos (he wasn’t permitted to copy them or use them in his final work), compiling all this into a book that he was unable to finish before his death.

Enter Russell Day who took the notes and drafts compiled by Croix and assembled them into a (mostly) publishable form. (that’s not a knock on Day’s work, he did what he could to honor Croix’s particular style)

Reading a Documentary

Back in junior high/high school, I remember watching documentaries and documentary-style TV shows about paranormal investigations and unsolved crimes. This reads a lot like one of those. Those would feature a lot of intercut interviews telling the story—some contradicting the others—with a little, but not too much voice-over narration stitching them together. There’d also be some questionable photographs and some dark video clips that are hard to see a whole lot of detail in.

That’s pretty much what The Perception Of Dolls is—just in book form. It’s surprisingly effective—it doesn’t take a whole lot of imagination on the part of the reader to “see” the whole thing. Yeah, the format of interview transcripts and descriptions of the visuals are pretty bare-boned, but you’ll find yourself supplying all the necessary details with almost no prompting from the text.

When Style is Not a Style

Whether I’ve discussed a short story or a novel by Day, one of the things I inevitably talk the most about is his style.

None of that is evident here. Not one bit. As I said, this reads as dryly as a transcript of a documentary—which is exactly what Day was going for. The absence of style is as much work—if not much more—than Day’s typically flashy and gorgeous styles.

“Dry” doesn’t mean dull—not for a second. Day dives so far into the persona of Croix—eliding obscenities, odd typography, purposefully including typos, sentence fragments, etc. that the text of the novel itself becomes a character as vibrant as any of the others.

So, what did I think about The Perception Of Dolls?

So…when I first saw this advertised, I didn’t think this would be my cup of tea—it’s not really a genre I’m all that fond of, and rarely want to try. But then I remembered that the genre of “Things written by Russell Day” is definitely one of my favorites, so I went for it.

I’m so glad that I tried this.

Objectively, I’d say that there’s little reason on the page to feel unease, dread, anxiety, or much of anything actually. But because of the subject matter and/or the way that the story is told—I don’t see how you don’t feel dread, anxiety, and a growing sense of creepiness throughout. The last photograph described by Croix is going to stick with me a little longer than I’m comfortable with, I’ve got to say. It’s impossible to say what precisely happened—at almost any point the book describes—at 37 Fantoccini Street or with some of the related events, but something’s not right about that place. Everything that ever happened there needs to be narrated by Robert Stack.*

* I don’t know if that will mean anything to anyone who wasn’t watching U.S. TV in the late 1980s, but I assure you, it’s an apt observation.

Okay, I take that back—there’s objectively at least one scene that should make any reader feel creeped out and possibly anxious. Croix gets to view the doll collector’s collection. If imagining 897 dolls of various types and conditions in one room (I’ll leave the details to the book) doesn’t give you the heebie-jeebies, you should seek professional help.

Everything in this book is unreliable—the narratives in the newspapers from the original killings were only printed in a newspaper that doesn’t exist anymore, and the photographs from that story—or anytime after that, are only described. Even a documentary related to murder is of dubious quality. You’ll find plenty to question in the witness accounts of what happened—particularly when they differ (and, yes, I’m sure they’re all lying—it’s tough to decide which one is lying when). The reader is given plenty of reasons throughout to wonder about Anthony Croix’s accuracy—and there appear to be pages missing from his manuscript that could change our understanding of the whole thing. All of which serves to increase my general feelings of unease about the whole narrative.

Near the end of the book, Croix is talking about someone he interacted with a lot saying they’re a perfect “reflector”

of the overarching story of number 37. Facts present themselves but offer no revelations and produce questions, not answers.

That’s precisely what this book delivers—and it does so in a way that even people who demand a lot of resolution from a story can be satisfied with it. I wondered more than once what I’d end up thinking about this book as I walked through it, I was uncertain most of the time I spent reading. But the last few chapters solidified things for me. And the days I’ve spent afterward thinking about the whole thing make me even more sure—it’s one of those books that gets better the more you think about it—I’m dazzled by this book. I’m not in awe—and I certainly didn’t enjoy most of it (if by enjoy you mean “had fun while reading”). But I was hooked. I was captivated. I was (at least momentarily) obsessed with it.

5 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.

REPOSTING JUST CUZ: The King of the Crows by Russell Day: Prescient. Gripping. Haunting. Unpredictable. What stories should be.

By HCNewton

On January 19, 2023

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Russell Day

Things have gotten away from me today, so I don’t have anything new to share. But I’ve been thinking a lot about this book this week (I think about this book frequently, to be honest, but several times a day this week), so I figured I’d try to get others thinking about it, too. If you haven’t read this yet, you should strongly consider doing so, as I argue below. Incidentally, re-reading this now serves as a really good argument for me to adopt the current format of my posts using section headers and whatnot (I’d been rethinking them last week, but after this post? They’re sticking around)

King of the Crows

by Russell Day

Kindle Edition, 456 pg.
Fahrenheit Press, 2020

Read: April 28-May 9, 2020

… for me at least, the first week of the Lockdown was the worst.

Knowing it had happened to me. I hadn’t escaped, I wasn’t one of the lucky ones. Lucky to be safe or lucky to be dead. Take your pick. I was neither.

That right there gives you a pretty good idea what kind of light and fluffy read this is going to be.

There are two timelines in this story—the primary focuses on a post-pandemic London, while the other shows what happened to a couple of the characters mid-pandemic (with plenty of material describing what the pandemic was like for others). In the primary timeline, Europe is a disaster—a “wasteland”—and eight years after the Outbreak, it’s beginning to put itself back together. But it’s going to take a long, long time to recover from this. Don’t let the fact that “eight years after” this fictional outbreak is 2028 bother you at all.*

* Good luck with that. I’ll get back to this in a bit.

I’m not going to try to list all the various ways that Day uses to tell this story: I’m certainly going to forget several. So here’s a partial list: here’s a third-person 2028 narrator describing a police investigation, a first-person perspective on the same investigation; a first-person account of that same detective’s life during the Outbreak; selections from a screenplay made about a group of Londoners during the Outbreak; selections from the Outbreak-memoir of one of those Londoners; and third-person narration of the same (N.B.: these three will vary in telling ways); redacted 2028 prison correspondence about the Outbreak; excerpts from scholarly works on aspects of the Outbreak (including a very illuminating work on the slang of the time); graffiti from 2021; internet message boards. Day weaves these together to tell his story, build the world, and help you to understand it. Frequently, I read something from the 2028 timeline, and understood it—only to find a new depth to it several pages later after getting another piece of the puzzle from 2020/2021. It’s hard to juggle that many narrative forms/voices/perspectives/calendars as a reader or a writer—Day pulled it off better than I did (any problems I had following things I attribute to myself, and it was pretty easy to clear out my misunderstanding with a minimum of backtracking*). It definitely helps paint the picture of the scope and variety of effects the sickness had on the world more efficiently than a consistent first- or third-person narrative would be able to.

* This would be easier in hardcopy than on an e-reader in my opinion. But that’s just a guess.

There are times (several of them) when I felt that the characters were getting lost amongst the plot and worldbuilding and sickness. But when I stopped and thought about it—and eventually got to the point where I didn’t have to—I realized I had a pretty solid idea about who these people were and was more invested in them than I expected. I thought there was so much going on that the people were getting hidden, but really, Day’s work was subtle—working in the characters into my subconscious like you give a dog its medicine. Normally, this isn’t something I require (or would like)—and it’s not Day’s usual M. O. (quite the opposite), but I think this approach really fit the novel and the story/world.

“They weren’t zombies,” he says, softly. “Don’t call them zombies.”

No one who was involved in the Outbreak for real uses the zee word.

So exactly what was the sickness?

I remember reading a couple of years ago about these ants that would succumb to a fungus which would short-circuit their brain and make them do certain things before killing them—or something like that, vague memories here. Then there were stories about parasites controlling the host’s actions—both of these stories had their 15 seconds of fame on social media around the same time (I may be messing the details up a little bit, but I’m not writing history here).

In Day’s world, one of these kinds of parasites will reside—asymptomatically, I should stress—in cats, who would pass it on to humans. Skipping the details, the humans would get very sick and then, survivors would maybe succumb to a psychosis that would make them violent. This sickness, HV-Tg (Human Variant-Toxo gondii), in a little more than a year would kill more than 20 million in Europe (at least 33% of France’s population) Et voilà!—an easy to believe pandemic that results in Zombie-like people wandering around.

Now, if one of those who’d “switched” and become violent infected you during an assault, well, you were likely to succumb. There were enough of these (“psychos” or “Gonzos”), and the sickness was so widespread, that the police and military couldn’t keep up, that civilians were forced to take action and defend themselves, their family and neighbors. People quickly forming into gang-like associations for mutual protection. It was a literal kill-or-be-infected (and likely killed) situation.

One such association became known as The Crows or The Kings of the Crows. They developed a legendary status mid-and post-Outbreak—and are the subjects of the memoir and film mentioned above. One of their number who happened to survive (and gain notoriety enough to get a publishing deal for a memoir) is the subject of the 2028 investigation. They survived the worst of the worst in one of the hardest-hit cities. They did so via means and methods that many (including their own) would find deplorable, but under circumstances that not only permitted, but required, those actions.

We also see what happens to an American in Paris for work when the Outbreak reaches the point that International travel is canceled (particularly to the U.S.). Her allies will never be considered the Kings of anything, and the contrast between how she survives to what the Crows do is pretty striking.

In 2028…eh…you know what? You should read that for yourself. I’m going to say something I’ll regret.

The biggest killer in those days wasn’t the disease or the psychos, it was stupidity.

However, it has been pointed out by many historians, logic was one of the first casualties of the Outbreak.

Some of the best moments of this book have nothing to do with advancing the plot, they’re little bits showing what the world of the Gondii-pandemic looks like. The man telling the story about taking his girlfriend to the ER because of a burn—how they were treated, and how she became infected. The soldiers coming back from a Middle East deployment being completely unprepared for what had happened to their home country. The mother and son who traveled with the Crows for awhile.

Ultimately, it’s not the story you think you’re getting…or is it? The marketing tag line is, “Ocean’s Eleven meets 28 Days Later.” It is, all things considered, a good, catchy line. I’m not sure it’s all that accurate a description of the novel (but it’s not inaccurate). What it is, really slides up on you—and when you see it it feels like it was obvious all along (even if you wouldn’t have said that 20 pages earlier). There’s a straightforward crime story at the heart of this novel—it’s just surrounded by so many layers, that you can miss it—there’s the sickness, there’s the horrible social and political context (both mid- and post-Outbreak), there’s what the characters are going through otherwise—and the whole thing is drenched in social commentary about 2020 society, e.g., sexism, economics, medical care.

And that’s not even touching the context we’re reading it in now. I truly wonder what I’d think of this book if I’d read it last Fall. I’d still like it, I’d still be impressed by it—but I don’t know if it would resonate with me the same way. There’s almost nothing about Gondii that’s comparable to COVID-19. But the way that people and governments respond—well, that’s pretty different, too. but if you can’t see what’s going on around us reflected in this novel? You’re not paying attention. That Day appears so prescient says something about his skill and observation (and a lot about Western culture, too).

I can see why people cling to the idea that the Gonzos were trying to tell us something. Something’s out there trying to get a message through: there’s a plan. Compared to the idea that it was all just chance, it’s a comfort of a type. Chance doesn’t care and can’t be appeased and can’t be reasoned with. Chance means it could all happen again.

5 Stars

Reread Project: Faith & Life by B.B. Warfield: 41 Brief Bursts of Profundity

By HCNewton

On January 1, 2023

In Non-Fiction, Theology/Christian Living

Faith & Life

by B. B. Warfield

DETAILS:
Publisher: Banner of Truth
Publication Date: Dec 1, 1974
Format: Clothbound
Length: 458 pg.
Read Date: January 2-December 25, 2022

N.B.: I’ve revamped and slightly updated this from the last time I reread this.

What’s Faith & Life About?

Back when Princeton Seminary was the crown jewel of biblical Presbyterian training in the US, notable professors like Archibald Alexander, Samuel Miller, and Charles Hodge would have informal addresses for students on Sunday afternoons. B. B. Warfield, the lion of Princeton, continued this practice. These 41 chapters come from some of these addresses to the students.

They are roughly 10 (+/-2) pages long (the pages are on the small side, it should be noted), short, and to the point. They’re expositions of small pericopes of Scripture (primarily one or two verses, but he’ll often address the immediate context). Three chapters are from the Old Testament, with the rest from the New—the chapters are organized by canonical order, not by any particular themes or lines of thought.

So, what did I think about Faith & Life?

I went skimming over the Table of Contents to pick out a few highlights—and I’m having a real problem. Almost every one is a gem. “Prayer as a Means of Grace” and “Prayer as a Practice” were very helpful—the latter was slightly better. “New Testament Puritanism” was great. Despite the reputation men like Warfield have, the chapters involving the work of the Holy Spirit were all tremendous. “God’s Holiness and Ours” was fantastic. I could keep going here, but it wouldn’t be long before I copied the Table of Contents.

For being the exemplar of “old Princeton,” with all the rigor and scholarship that entails—these addresses help us remember that even stalwarts like Warfield, who are known for strong stances on doctrinal issues—were men with vibrant faith, even a sense of humor.

With a couple of breaks for illnesses, travel, etc. I read a chapter each Lord’s Day. It was like sitting down with a trusted friend to talk about the Bible for a couple of minutes. I’m going to miss doing that going into the next year. I last did this back in 2013, and won’t let myself wait as long for the next time through.

Faith & Life is everything Christian scholarship should be—warm, Christ-centered, practical, and doxological. It’s also everything that Christian devotional material should be—careful, sound, and deliberately orthodox. Highly recommended.

5 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.

Dead Lions by Mick Herron: An Overdue Read for Me, the Best of Both Worlds for Spy Fiction Fans

By HCNewton

On December 5, 2022

In Mick Herron, Slough House

Dead Lions

by Mick Herron

DETAILS:
Series: Slough House, #2
Publisher: Soho Crime
Publication Date: May 7, 2013
Format: Paperback
Length: 347 pg.
Read Date: November 21-24, 2022

…whatever we’re here for, Lamb’s not being punished. Or if he is, he’s enjoying it.”

“So what’s your point?”

He said, “That he knows where some bodies are buried. Probably buried a few himself.”

“Is that a metaphor?”

“I failed English. Metaphor’s a closed book to me.”

“So you think he’s handy?”

“Well, he’s overweight and drinks and smokes and I doubt he takes much exercise that doesn’t involve picking up a phone and calling out for a curry. But yeah, now you mention it, I think he’s handy.”

“He might’ve been once,” Shirley said. “But there’s not much point in being handy if you’re too slow to be any good at it.”

But Marcus disagreed. Being handy was a state of mind. Lamb could wear you down just standing in front of you, and you wouldn’t know he was a threat until he was walking away, and you were wondering who’d turned the lights out. Just Marcus’s opinion, of course. He’d been wrong before.

“I suppose,” he said, “if we stick around long enough, we might find out.”

Squirrel!

I read the first book in this series over 2 1/2 years ago. Since then, my friend Paul has been hounding me, nagging me, and generally pushing me to keep reading them. Insisting that I’m missing out. Etc. Etc. Etc. While I suspected he was right—and even if he wasn’t, I wanted to based on Slow Horses and everything I’d heard from Paul, Jeff at Barbican Station, and from several other fronts.

But we all know how easily distracted I can be. So…here we are 45 months later. And I know when I post this I’m going to get at least one text from Paul, saying things like: “I told you so!” and “It’s about time.”

I deserve both of those messages because he did tell me so; and yes, it is.

What’s Dead Lions About?

Jackson Lamb gets suspicious when an old, low-ranking spy from the Cold War era dies on a public bus. He follows Dickie Bow’s last movements and finds reason to indulge that hunch a little longer, bringing in one of Slough House’s new additions to do some more legwork. What they find doesn’t make him any happier—a bogey-man from the old days might be back. And that can’t be good.

Meanwhile, Spider—pardon me, James—Webb recruits Louisa Guy and Min Harper to help him with a little project he’s got going on. He’s trying to recruit a Russian oligarch—one with political aspirations—as an asset, and he needs some security work done by people who won’t get the attention of any of the bigwigs in MI5. Neither wants to work with Webb, but if they do, there’s a chance…not much of one…but a chance that at least one of them will be the first Slow Horse to move back to Regent’s Park. Both of them are ready to be that one—even at the expense of the other, no matter what relationship might be budding between the two of them.

Best of Both Worlds

While I have an appreciation for British Cold War Spy novels—they’re really not my thing. I’ve tried, both in print and on film—and they just don’t work. But that’s the kind of world that River’s grandfather, O.B., represents—and that Tavener and Lamb represent the end of. They have one foot in that world still, it defines them—but they’re both (especially Tavener) also part of the War on Terror, financial crimes/terrorism, etc. of our current moment. River, Ho, and the rest of the Slow Horses belong to the latter.

What this book does so well is to marry the two schools—we have a very Cold War holdover storyline, and a Putin-era storyline. Now, I can’t imagine that Herron is going to be able to pull this off regularly, but getting to do it in the second novel, solidifying the series’ identity as being able to work in both eras. I thought that was a great move that welcomes in fans of both eras of British Spy Fiction.

So, what did I think about Dead Lions?

So, back in 2019 when I read Slow Horses, I liked it and was impressed by it, but I only gave it 3 Stars. When I listened to the audiobook last year, I think I “got” what Herron was doing a little more. But I still wasn’t as impressed with this as everyone I knew seemed to be. I’m fine with that, but I wondered a bit if I was missing something.

I think I found whatever it was in the pages of Dead Lions. Because…wow. Herron does it all here—there’s some satire, there’s commentary on human existence, on the politics (and espionage) of the Cold War, on the politics (and espionage) of the 2000s, a real and slowly-building tension, there’s subtle wit, less-than-subtle wit, a plot that is impossible to predict, characters that are the most human you’ll find in spy fiction, dialogue and narration that are impossible not to endlessly quote…and fart jokes.

One lesson that readers of the first book should’ve picked up is that they shouldn’t get attached to anyone—look at the number of people assigned to Slough House at the beginning of the book and then at the end. Percentage-wise, it’s safer to be a George R.R. Martin character. Herron ensures that no reader of Dead Lions thinks that’s a fluke. Right now (and I’m ready to be disproven), I figure the only safe characters are Jackson Lamb and (sadly) James Webb—he seems to have the survival capabilities of a hardy cockroach.

Herron surprised me on multiple occasions—I think at this point, I’m going to just permanently suspend my reflex to predict what’s coming when I spend time with him. They weren’t just surprises—they were the kind that I absolutely didn’t even think of expecting—and then in retrospect, I don’t know how I could’ve imagined anything else happening at all.

From time to time, TV Critic Alan Sepinwall will recap an episode saying things like “if we only got X, that would be enough. If we only got Y, that would be enough,” and so on. I felt like that while thinking about this book. If we only got Lamb tracking the final movements of Dickie Bow, that would’ve been enough. If we only got the Louisa Guy/Min Harper storyline, that would’ve been enough. If we only got the Diana Tavener/Jason Webb scene, that would’ve been enough. If we only got River Cartwright going undercover, and everything he goes through…you see where I’m going. Any one of those would’ve been enough for me to realize I need to take this series seriously and get on with reading them all. You combine these points with all those that I decided not to list for space/spoiler reasons? I’m on the verge of being rabid.

Everything I thought was a bug about Slow Horses was a feature, and I see that now. Everything I thought was a fluke about Slow Horses wasn’t. Everything I thought was good about Slow Horses was at least a little bit great. How do I know that? I see all of those elements here and have a much better appreciation for them in Dead Lions so I can better understand its predecessor.

I had other things in my notes that I really wanted to cover. But…I’ve said the essentials, and am at the point where I’m trying to gild an already gilded lily. So, I’m going to leave all that unsaid. Yes, I may have overhyped this and doomed you to not appreciate it. I get that and apologize in advance. Just chalk this up to a new and rabid fanboy—go into this series expecting something good. And then when you’re ready to join the rabid throng, I’ll be waiting for you.

And now, I’ve got to start waiting for messages from Paul.

5 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.

Christ of the Consummation, Vol. 1 by O. Palmer Robertson: The Beginning of A Wonderful Trilogy

By HCNewton

On November 13, 2022

In Non-Fiction, Theology/Christian Living

Christ of the Consummation:
A New Testament Biblical Theology
Volume 1: The Testimony of
the Four Gospels

by O. Palmer Robertson

DETAILS:
Publisher: P & R Publishing
Publication Date: June 1, 2022
Format: Paperback
Length: 321 pg.
Read Date: August 7-28, 2022

In these new phases of redemptive history, the heart of the revelation does not change, but it broadens and deepens in the realities of the truth. Jesus Christ is the same, but his church, his precious bride, is being built by the addition of nations being born in a day as a consequence of Christ’s pouring out the gifts of his Spirit on all flesh. The kingdom of God has come and continues to come. The kingdom of God is yet to come. It will arrive in all its fullness on that day, the great judgment day, the day of resurrection and restoration of all things. To God be the glory for the things he has done, is doing, and yet will do.

What’s Christ of the Consummation, Volume 1 About?

At some point when reading Vos’ Biblical Theology most readers like me* start to wonder, “How is he doing to have time to cover the New Testament? While Vos doesn’t give his readers the same kind of insight into the history of revelation of the NT as he does the OT, he does set out some principles. Robert’s work is the first book-length attempt to apply Vos’ directions to apply his method to the NT (actually, the first of three book-length attempts).

That’d be people who didn’t know what was coming from pre-knowledge about the book or reading the Table of Contents.

He begins by stating the difference between the two works—there are centuries upon centuries of history of OT revelation, and a maximum of one from the announcement of Jesus’ birth to Mary to the end of John’s writing on Patmos. But that doesn’t mean that there’s no development, but how best to approach that? Robertson focuses on three distinctives in his approach:

Retracing the Historical Progression across the Various Phases of New Covenant Revelation as the Organizing Principle
The Foundational Role of the Old Covenant Scriptures
Contemporary [to their writing] Application of New Testament Biblical Theology

With these distinctives in mind, Robertson looks at material concerning Jesus’ self-testimony; various phases of His life and work; the progressive revelation of the Kingdom during His life; His death, burial, resurrection, and ascension; and then he moves into closer looks at the various Gospels individually and corporately.

An Unexpected Bonus

A number of times throughout the text Robertson will hit pause on his exegetical work, the historical reflections, or the interpretative/theological conclusions from those, to offer application to the lives and hearts of the reader. Sometimes a broader or more general call and sometimes it’s a narrow focus. I really didn’t expect these at all, and I almost never saw them coming when he did pause for one. But I appreciated them all and found them to be a real enhancement to the work.

So, what did I think about Christ of the Consummation, Volume 1?

I’m clearly not qualified to evaluate Robertson’s application of Vos, but people like D.A. Carson and Richard Gaffin are, so I’ll take their word for it. Sure, they wrote the forward and a “further word” for this book, so it’s not like we’re talking about impartial evaluations.

Nor am I capable of—or willing to—give this a good and thorough review/evaluation. Although I do wish I could. So let me offer a few thoughts from my perspective as a lay reader. And I do think this is a book written with the layman in mind—it’s not a casual read by any means, but it is not a book solely for scholars.

I’m not sure I’ve read a Christian book this year that has made me think more, read slower/closer, and pushed my thinking more. It’s also been the most rewarding and I think it will prove the most fecund for my future reading, study, and devotion.

At the same time, the number of times that I read something I don’t think I’d ever been exposed to, or that was wholly novel to me is so small as to be negligible. This is not to say that it was all review or that he didn’t make me stop and think for a minute or ten to consider a point before moving on. But on the whole, it’s a reframing and refocusing of many things I’ve read in lay-friendly works or heard in sermons/lectures. It’s not “here’s a whole new way to read/think about the Gospels”—and Robertson would be the last to want something like that. Instead, this is a “here’s a way to profitably consider the way these things were revealed” and “here’s how the Gospels build upon one another and build up each other.”

I’m already trying to figure out when I can get in a re-read without ruining plans for next year—possibly in combination with a re-read of Vos’ Biblical Theology so I can more directly see for myself the connections between the two works and Vos’ influence.

This is the first in a trilogy—if the rest of the trilogy is as good as this one, the series will likely end up on shelves everywhere next to Vos. I know I’m already ready to dive into the next volume.

5 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.

Bunnicula: The Graphic Novel by James Howe, Andrew Donkin, Stephen Gilpin: The Children’s Classic Brought to Life in a New Format

By HCNewton

On November 1, 2022

In Comics, Dogs, Fantasy, Fiction, Urban Fantasy, YA/MG/Children's Books

Bunnicula: The Graphic Novel

by James Howe, Andrew Donkin, Stephen Gilpin (Illustrator)

DETAILS:
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Publication Date: August 29, 2022
Format: Paperback
Length: 128 pg.
Read Date: October 22, 2022

What’s Bunnicula: The Graphic Novel About?

This is easy—it’s a graphic novel adaptation of the modern classic, Bunnicula: A Rabbit-Tale of Mystery by James and Deborah Howe.

For those who missed this when they were kids, briefly, it’s the story about a dog (Harold) and a cat (Chester) reacting to a rabbit that their family brings home after finding him in a movie theater. The rabbit has some distinctive patterns on his fur that remind the kids (and Chester) of a classic Dracula-type vampire, so they name him Bunnicula.

Chester’s a literary type, with a taste for classic horror. Between his look, Bunnicula’s nocturnal habits, and the fact that every vegetable in the house starts being drained of its juices, Chester becomes convinced that the new pet is a vampire and tries his best to warn the family and destroy the intruder before he harms the family. Harold’s around as the voice of reason and tries to mitigate Chester’s shenanigans before his new little buddy gets hurt. Hilarity and shenanigans ensue.

Stephen Gilpin’s Work and the Look of the Book Overall

When I saw this on the bookstore shelf, I was intrigued because the original novel was such a favorite of mine—and then my kids, too. I had no real intentions of buying it because I could always just grab the novel again to revisit, but I picked it up to give it a quick glance and the art blew me away, and I had to buy it. Chester looked good, I clicked immediately with the character design for the Monroes (particularly the boys), Bunnicula was spot-on…

But the clincher for me was Harold. He might as well have been a werewolf drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic’s, because his hair (and everything else) was perfect. Sure, now it’s expected that the dog will be my favorite character in a book—but that wasn’t my default when I first encountered the book. But it took little time for him to be my favorite character in the series*. So when Gilpin knocked that character out of the park, he won my affection. Sure, it’s based on the illustrations from the original book, but he owned it and brought the look to life.

* It’s very likely that Harold laid the groundwork for my appreciation of canine protagonists, like Chet and Oberon.

Sometimes, I wonder what the point is behind doing a graphic novel adaptation of a written work—does it really add anything? This one did—there are some nice updates (Harold uses a computer, etc.) and some visual jokes and flourishes that could only be made in this format. Gilpin clearly made the most out of what Howe and Donkin gave him.

So, what did I think about Bunnicula: The Graphic Novel?

It’d be hard (but not impossible) to make something faithful to the letter (as much as space allows) and the spirit of the novel that didn’t make me happy. But this one wowed me—it brought me back to the day I first discovered this great band of people and critters decades ago, recapturing and repackaging the magic.

I’m not sure that it’ll have that impact on everyone—I don’t know if an 8-10 year-old picking it up in 2022 is going to get hooked on the series, for example. I can’t imagine how one doesn’t, but I don’t know if they will.

I wasn’t sure how to rate this, how much of my reaction to it was based on memory and nostalgia and how much was this new work. But I know how I felt while reading it and I saw how my (now adult) children’s eyes lit up when I showed them this version of the book, and I had to go with the full five stars.

Adult fans who remember the book—grab this, you’ll have a blast. It’ll probably work its charms on younger readers, too—and hopefully will work to bring them to the original series.

5 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.

PUB DAY REPOST: Racing the Light by Robert Crais: Spooks Spooking. Detectives Detecting. Killers Killing.

By HCNewton

On November 1, 2022

In Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Robert Crais

Racing the Light

by Robert Crais

DETAILS:
Series: Elvis Cole, #18
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Publication Date: November 1, 2022
Format: eARC
Length: 368 pg.
Read Date: October 12-14, 2022

What’s Racing the Light About?

The essence of the case is that Elvis is hired by the mother of a young man who has gone missing to find him. This is pretty par for the course for Elvis Cole—a missing persons case.

Here’s what makes this distinct: the mother has money—she pays a generous retainer in cash (so generous, Elvis gives some back) and you get the impression that it wouldn’t be difficult for her to add a few more thousand. Before she walks into the office, two people come in and do a security sweep. Adele Schumacher believes her son, Joshua, has been taken by government agents for his investigation into Area 51 for his podcast. So, yeah, not a typical day in the office.

The podcast is called In Your Face with Josh Shoe, and it’s frequently about government corruption, conspiracies, and whatnot—but they’ve branched out to things like interviewing a porn actress. His childhood friend/podcasting partner, Ryan, tells Elvis that Josh is trying to move to more mainstream topics (Ryan doesn’t seem on board with this, for what it’s worth). Ryan shares Adele’s theory for Josh’s absence, Josh has been taken because he returned to Area 51 and found something.

But Elvis starts to find evidence that Josh is investigating something he didn’t tell Ryan about—Elvis can’t figure out what it is, sadly, but he starts to figure out who Josh might be interviewing for this story. And one of them has gone missing, too. Is this tied to his disappearance or did the twenty-something self-employed and single guy just flake off for a few days?

It’s not long before Elvis starts to think he’s not the only one looking for Josh and he enlists help from Joe Pike (who brings in Jon Stone). If those two get on board, you know things are about to get dangerous.

Pike and Stone

The problem with getting to know the PI’s more lethal/less-hung-up-about hurting people friend/sidekick/partner better is that it’s harder to keep them feeling dangerous and mysterious—it maybe even gets to the point where they stop being quite as prone to violence as they once were, and their charcoal-gray hats get a little closer to white. With Joe Pike getting some novels of his own, a lot of his sharp edges have been dulled for fans, so it was nice that Crais brought along Jon Stone so when Pike couldn’t be ruthless and cold-blooded, there’d be someone who could.

He gets to be that guy here—he’s helpful (very), resourceful, and mercenary. He pitches in because Pike pushes him to—not because he cares about Elvis or the fate of Josh. But what he does, he does well. (and is amusing for the reader throughout)

Pike is also not quite the active presence in this book that he has been lately—so when he does show up and act, it makes it feel a bit more super-human. Crais really upped his game with Pike in this novel and it allows him to steal almost every scene he’s in. Naturally, the phone calls between Pike and Cole are still fun to read—if you can write an entertaining conversation with one party being nearly-monosyllabic, you’ve got a gift.

Lucy and Ben

Lucy and Ben come by for an almost-unannounced visit to ensure that Elvis can’t give his full attention to the case. Which sounds snarky and may not be wholly fair of me. But it’s not wrong.

I enjoy the character of Ben and the way he interacts with Elvis—and continue to do so. I appreciated and believed what he was going through—both on his own and with his mother—at this stage of life, and Crais’s portrayal of this was one of the (many) highlights of this novel. It was also a good way to remind the reader just But Lucy has bothered me for a while now (although I was initially a fan), and I’m not certain that this book alleviates that (nor do I think Crais is altogether worried about it). I’m going to reserve judgment on this appearance for now. I did like Cole’s response to her visit and presence (when it didn’t take him off of his game, although I thought that was a nice touch).

So, what did I think about Racing the Light?

I need to spend some time thinking about this idea, but while reading this book I started to think of some notable first meetings between a PI and their client—like The Big Sleep, The Doorbell Rang, God Save the Child, and The Judas Goat*—and how those meetings can be a bellwether for the rest of the book. If the meeting seems pretty good/typical, the rest of the book will be, too; if the meeting catches your attention, the rest of the book will be of a higher quality.** The first meeting between Elvis and Adele Schumacher definitely fits—it’s not your standard meeting (the presence of her personal security helps). Right away, I could tell this was going to be a better-than-usual Elvis Cole novel. There’s not much that can beat that, in my book.

* This is a list generated in a rush, and I know I’ve left off some big ones, but as indicated, this is a theory-in-progress, I might work it out fully later.
** It’s likely that a better book is going to be better from the first chapter, and I just like the idea of creating a litmus test.

My opinion never wavered from that point on—this is some of the best writing Crais has given us in a long time—there are some passages/sentences/phrases I’ve had to read a few times just because I enjoyed them so much. I’m going to have a hard time limiting myself when quoting from the book once I get the hardcover. I’m already looking forward to a re-read of this somewhere down the road.

Along those lines, there’s one passage following a conversation between Elvis and Josh’s father that I’d believe Crais stole from one of the earliest Robert B. Parker novels. It’s not often that I get a reminder of the shared DNA between Elvis and Spenser. I appreciate what distinguishes the two more than their similarities, but it’s good to see the family resemblance is still there—it’s what attracted me to both characters (and their authors!).

We see the return of some characters that Crais hasn’t used in a while, too—which adds to the overall feeling of this novel hearkening back to earlier Elvis novels more than the last few. Another of the ways this book shines is in the supporting characters, not just that many from the old gang are back, but characters for this book. We get to know a couple of people connected to the missing persons really well, they’re well-fleshed out, and you can’t help feeling empathy for them and connected to them. For example, there’s a man who lives in Griffith Park who’s a witness to part of a cover-up—we get four chapters from his perspective. And I like him enough already that I’d read a short story/novella just about him.

I’ve probably gone on more than long enough at this point, let me wrap it up.

New readers will find plenty to enjoy here as well as well-established fans should. Obviously, newcomers won’t get all the character moments that come from the buildup of 17 previous novels, but that doesn’t mean they won’t walk away with a sense of them. Don’t let the existence of those novels dissuade you, see them as an added bonus of backstory you can explore if you get into these characters.

I don’t see how long-term fans aren’t going to relish this novel. Racing the Light doesn’t carry the emotional heft of L.A. Requiem or The Last Detective (primarily because those books explored the characters of Elvis and Pike in depths that Crais can’t repeat), but in terms of plot, pacing, and character this is their equal. I haven’t been this excited about a Robert Crais novel since The Promise.

I’m telling you, readers, don’t miss out on this one.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from PENGUIN GROUP Putnam via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.

5 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 Bullet That Missed by Richard Osman: Chickens (Start to?) Come Home to Roost

By HCNewton

On October 27, 2022

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, The Thursday Murder Club

The Bullet That Missed

by Richard Osman

DETAILS:
Series: Thursday Murder Club, #3
Publisher: Pamela Dorman Books
Publication Date: September 20, 2022
Format: Hardcover
Length: 337 pg.
Read Date: October 17-19, 2022

“It’s the people, in the end, isn’t it?…It’s always the people, You can move halfway around the world to find your perfect life, move to Australia if you like, but it always comes down to the people you meet.”

What’s The Bullet That Missed About?

Consequences, largely.

But that doesn’t tell you much. So let me expand a bit. The end of the book seemed to tie up everything with two nice and tidy bows. But you know what they say about appearances…

In The Man Who Died Twice, the Thursday Murder Club basically ripped off a International Criminal and got away with it. Well, almost. It turns out that a competitor (we’ll call him the Viking) of that criminal has evidence of their theft. The Viking tries to use that evidence to blackmail Elizabeth into killing the other criminal. She resists until the Viking turns it into an offer she can’t refuse.

Meanwhile, Joyce has picked the next case for the Club to look into. Years before, a local news anchor had gone missing and is presumed dead. Over her protests, everyone is sure she wants to look into the case because she wants to meet some people on TV, but the case is interesting enough that they’ll go along with it. Whatever her motives, it is an interesting case and gives the Club a lot to do (and, yes, they get to meet a local celebrity or two along the way).

The case brings Ibrahim into contact with Connie Johnson, the crime boss the Club had helped put away. She hasn’t forgotten him or Ron—and has grim plans for both of them upon her release (which she’s sure isn’t long off). But in the meantime, for her own amusement, she plays along with Ibrahim and helps out.

Murdering a criminal, solving an old missing persons case (that may be a murder), and tangling with an imprisoned drug lord. That’s a lot to squeeze into 337 pages, but there’s more: add in some romance/potential romance, some new friends and old, and Joyce’s continued experiments with Instagram, and you’ve got yourself a novel.

Stephen!

Elizabeth’s husband, Stephen, has been a rock for her throughout this series. He’s had a few good moments when it comes to both story and comedy—and heart, most importantly, the heart—but he’s largely been a supporting character. An important one, but supporting, nonetheless.

But he gets to shine in The Bullet That Missed. He’s thrust into the middle of one of the stories from the beginning, and plays a significant role throughout this storyline. In retrospect, I think I should’ve anticipated this happening at some point, but I hadn’t. It was so good to see this.

There’s a dark side to anything involving Stephen, too. We know from the beginning that he’s struggling with dementia. We all know too well that there’s only one direction for people dealing with that. So every time we see the character—or see Elizabeth thinking about him—the reader is confronted with this reality. As hard as some of the situations the Club faces in this book are—nothing is as hard (for characters or readers) than to see this progression.

Elizabeth seems so strong, so capable—frequently inscrutable and almost omniscient—but when it comes to Stephen, she is so vulnerable, so human (and now Joyce, too but always Stephen first). I have a blast reading über-competent Elizabeth, but I love vulnerable Elizabeth, and Stephen’s where she comes from.

The Heart of this Series

I have to be vague here, but I think I can get across what I want without ruining anything.

That quote I opened with is, ultimately, what this series is about—it’s what gets people hooked on it. The four members of The Thursday Murder Club—and their particular brand of friendship—is so appealing. There’s a chemistry and a warmth to them that inevitably attracts others, they want to be part of it. In the first book, they draw in such disparate people as a middle-aged Detective Chief Inspector, a Police Constable not quite used to the quieter locale, and a pretty shady Polish immigrant. You see something similar in the next book, too. The Bullet that Missed trumps them all—and the band of “Thursday Murder Club Irregulars” that they can now call on is pretty remarkable. It’s even drawn in Joyce’s daughter—not that they’ve ever been at odds, but you can tell their relationship could be better at first (and likely still could), and it’s getting stronger now.

That’s the more impressive part—not only are people drawn in by these characters because they want to spend time with them and help them (even if they’re being pressured, bullied, or blackmailed into it)—their lives are enriched by it. As are the lives of the Murder Club—everyone benefits.

This crosses generations, interests, professions, criminal records, ethnicities, national origins, classes, education levels—you name it. Sure, this is a cozy kind of “blue sky” outlook. But who doesn’t want to live in a world like that? Who doesn’t want to at the very least want to spend some time reading about a world like that? Even if it’s marred by murder, the occasional betrayal, and grief—it’s an optimistic antidote to loneliness and…I don’t know, the ineffable “everything else” that defines contemporary life.

So, what did I think about The Bullet That Missed?

The downside to everything I just said is that I wonder if we don’t have too many players in this book—we’ve got the core four, the extended circle of friends, Stephen, kids, a grandchild, old contacts, new friends, romantic interests, foes old and new. I felt like we didn’t get quite enough time with our protagonists. But I don’t want to lose a moment with the others…maybe Osman should take a page from Galbraith and start putting out a thousand pages at a time. (NOTE: That is absolutely a joke. I would eagerly read it, should he publish it, but I don’t want it.) That hurt the book a little for me, but there wasn’t a moment of this novel I didn’t find wholly charming and delightful.

In sum: the biggest problem with this book was all the new good stuff crowded out the old good stuff. Not the worst problem to run into.

The mystery was great—I got suckered by a red herring or two (and even when I suspected something was a red herring, I ignored that likelihood). The character work was typically fantastic. The conclusion was a knock-out and everything that happened after the killer’s reveal is even better. I’m firmly in raving fanboy mode now, so let me wrap-up.

Basically, this is a the literary equivalent of a cozy blanket and a nice up of tea—if you don’t feel better while reading it, I’ll be shocked. Yes, in this series (as in real life) grief and sorrow are around the corner—potentially great tragedy, too. for now, the Thursday Murder Club has nothing but a great time to offer you in The Bullet That Missed. Highly recommended.

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.

REPOSTING JUST CUZ: Heaven on Earth by Thomas Brooks

By HCNewton

On October 23, 2022

In Non-Fiction, Theology/Christian Living

Heaven On Earth

by Thomas Brooks

ebook
originally published 1654
Read: May 11 – 25, 2014

I just might have myself a new favorite Puritan (I’m not the only one who has a list, right?). I’m kicking myself for not getting to Brooks earlier in life. What a wonderful book — I’m looking forward to getting to read more by him.

Aesthetically, this is fantastic. The language sings — the book begs to be read aloud (and I frequently did so, interrupting whatever anyone around me was doing). You can feel the passion, the fervor throughout. A few paragraphs from different chapters illustrate this:

Divine light reaches the heart as well as the head. The beams of divine light shining in upon the soul through the glorious face of Christ are very working; they warm the heart, they affect the heart, they new mold the heart. Divine knowledge masters the heart, it guides the heart, it governs the heart, it sustains the heart, it relieves the heart. Knowledge which swims in the head only, and sinks not down into the heart, does no more good than the unicorn’s horn in the unicorn’s head.

The only ground of God’s love is his grace. The ground of God’s love is only and wholly in himself. There is neither portion nor proportion in us to draw his love. There is no love nor loveliness in us that should cause a beam of his love to shine upon us. There is that enmity, that filthiness, that treacherousness, that unfaithfulness, to be found in every man’s bosom, which might justly put God upon glorifying himself in their eternal ruin, and to write their names in his black book in characters of blood and wrath. God will have all blessings and happiness to flow from free grace.

Faith is the first pin which moves the soul; it is the spring in the watch which sets all the golden wheels of love, joy, comfort, and peace a-going. Faith is a root-grace, from whence springs all the sweet flowers of joy and peace. Faith is like the bee, it will suck sweetness out of every flower; it will extract light out of darkness, comforts out of distresses, mercies out of miseries, wine out of water, honey out of the rock, and meat out of the eater, Judg 14:14.

But beyond that, the book is sound, it is orthodox, it is Biblical — throughout Brooks points the reader to The Book and The One Who inspired it. His aim is to show “that believers may in this life attain unto a well-grounded assurance of their everlasting happiness and blessedness.” He then goes on to examine the nature of that assurance, hindrances that keep believers from it, reasons to encourage believers to seek it, and how they can go about it, the difference between true and counterfeit assurance, as well as answering questions about assurance. Examining the doctrine from so many angles, you really feel (and probably do) that you come away from this book having an exhaustive look at the doctrine.

Chapter 6 — which takes more than its fair share of space, almost half of the book — is an extended detour from the point of the book, but it still serves to support the theme. He begins by saying, “In the previous chapter, you saw the seven choice things which accompany salvation. But for your further and fuller edification, satisfaction, confirmation, and consolation, it will be very necessary that I show you,” these seven choice things. Which are:

(1.) What knowledge that is, which accompanies salvation.
(2.) What faith that is, which accompanies salvation.
(3.) What repentance that is, which accompanies salvation.
(4.) What obedience that is, which accompanies salvation.
(5.) What love that is, which accompanies salvation.
(6.) What prayer that is, which accompanies salvation.
(7.) What perseverance that is, which accompanies salvation.

It is such a great chapter, and would make a remarkable little booklet unto itself that I really can’t complain too much that it’s such a departure from the rest of the book (though it did take me a little bit to get used to the notion).

Banner of Truth puts this out in paperback, monergism.com puts this out as a free e-book. Either way you go for it, this is a treasure I heartily suggest you grab.

—–

5 Stars