April book: The Shack

I read The Shack for our monthly church Book Club meeting, which will take place later this week. I look forward to the conversation we'll have, as the story and the concepts about God are intriguing. Radical trust and forgiveness; unconventional images of God; a terribly horrific experience that needs to be healed.

That being said, for some reason I didn't find The Shack as compelling as I thought I would. The central metaphor of The Shack -- the place where God meets us as the place of our deepest pain -- is exactly right, I think. But something seemed a little too facile about it, for me. And, in the midst of deep pain, as many people experience God's absence as God's presence, I believe.

As we discuss this book, there will be more conversation, discoveries and deeper insights. I look forward to sharing and hearing them.

Also, this is a reminder that our May book is Plain Truth, by Jodi Picoult. I'll try to get a link up to a reading guide soon.

March book: The Cape Ann

Lst night our book group met and discussed Faith Sullivan's novel The Cape Ann. Although this book has been around for many years, and has been well-regarded, I had never read it. Our book group read another, shorter book by Faith Sullivan several years ago, one called What a Woman Must Do.

Like last month's book, Little Heathens, this novel is set in the Great Depression. But while there are moments of simple pleasure in The Cape Ann, the book most clearly depicts the grim reality of how desperate that time was for many people. The young heroine, Lark, at times seemed to me almost a little too wise beyond her years; other times her words and thoughts were pitch perfect.

The common thread between The Cape Ann and What a Woman Must Do is the theme of a strong woman, doing what is hard but necessary. Lark's mother is portrayed as a larger-than-life character: smart, strong, resourceful, and compassionate: she won't give up her dreams. Many heart-breaking events happen in the course of this story. In our meeting last night, we were struck by the absence of strong male characters (although we all liked Father Delias, when he forgave Lark's sins, but not when he refused to bury Hilly.)

Here is my favorite quotation from the book: After Lark's confession: "When I thrust aside the curtain and left, my feet were as weightless as I imagined Fred Astaire's to be. I floated down the aisle in a gauzy haze of light and lightness. In my life I had never felt such disencumbrance. If I lifted my arms, I would float up to the dark beams and along the ceiling, and my new innocence would hold me aloft. This was how angels felt."

We are all looking forward to reading, at some point, the sequel to The Cape Ann, called Gardenias.

In the meantime, our April book is The Shack.

Why Faith and Fiction

To answer the question, I recall this Hasidic tale retold by Eli Wiesel:

WHEN the great Rabbi Israel Baal Shem- Tov saw misfortune threatening the Jews it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light a fire, say a special prayer, and the miracle would be accomplished and misfortune averted.

Later, when his disciple, the celebrated Magid of Mezritch, had occasion, for the same reason, to intercede with heaven, he would go to the same place in the forest and say: "Master of the Universe, listen! I do not know how to light the fire, but I am still able to say the prayers." And again the miracle would be accomplished.

Still later, Rabbi Moshe-Leib of Sasov, in order to save his people once more, would go into the forest and say: "1 do not know how to light the fire, I do not know the prayer, but I know the place and this must be sufficient." It was sufficient and the miracle was accomplished.

Then it fell to Rabbi Israel of Rizhyn to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his armchair, his head in his hands, he spoke to God: "I am unable to light the fire and I do not know the prayer; I cannot even find the place in the forest. All I can do is to tell the story, and that must be sufficient." And it was sufficient. God made humankind because God loves stories.

"God made humanity because God loves stories." At the foundation, that's the reason for our church book club -- Faith and Fiction. Yes, our church has Bible studies and prayer groups and traditional and contemporary worship. We shelter homeless people and make prayer shawls to give away and go on mission trips. And we read. "Faith and Fiction."

We believe that at the heart of every good story is something from God. A good story, a classic story, will try to answer the basic questions we have always wrestled with: why is there evil or suffering in the world, what is my purpose in life, where can I find hope, forgiveness, reconciliation, love? Stories try to answer these questions and give us a glimpse of our relationship with God.

We next meet on the 4th Thursday in March to discuss Faith Sullivan's novel The Cape Ann.

Little Heathens

This Thursday, we'll be getting together and discussing Mildred Kalish's delightful book, Little Heathens.

First, I have to say: It sounds more risque than it is. Mildred and her siblings were called "little heathens" when they moved to the farm to stay with their grandparents and their mother, but they didn't seem all that heathenish to me. In some ways, her childhood seemed idyllic and innocent; in some ways harsh and austere; in some ways better than life today; in some ways far worse.

That being said, this is, in many ways a fascinating book about an era soon to be lost. There's even a chapter on Mildred's religious upbringing: she admits to having been positively influenced by the faith of her youth, but to being far now from organized religion. I hope we'll get a chance to discuss her God-questions along with many other fascinating aspects of her story.

Here's a reading guide with questions to ponder before Thursday.