In The Afterlife is Where We Come From, cultural anthropologist Ann Gottlieb spent time in West Africa among the Beng people, whose beliefs about babies – specifically, that they are reincarnated – affects their society on many levels. For example, the Beng believe that babies are born with more knowledge than adults, and a deeper connection with the afterlife, but that it fades over time. So adults are often seen asking their young children for advice or spiritual insight.

Gottlieb was there to study whether there are universal truths about babies, or whether, instead, babies are shaped by societal beliefs, even from a very early age.

It would see that the conclusion was the latter – that babies do not have as many universal innate behaviors as most believe, but rather that even what seems instinctual is often a result of nurture from parents and kin.

This book also delved into areas of culture clashes, specifically when the western doctor witnessed children dying of starvation, their parents believing the cause to be divine will rather than simple dietary issues.

I have not read a lot of anthropology, but this was very insightful and helped to expand my understanding of humanity and all her many forms. If you are interested in child rearing from an anthropological point of view, this book should be on your shelf.

The style of his writing employs the story-telling form that much of African literature and culture is known for. At times, reading it, I could “hear” it in a thick Yoruba accent like the people I was with in Nigeria in 2005.

While this is certainly not every African’s story, it does help western readers to have a more informed understanding of misconceptions we have. I struggled to identify with the characters, perhaps because of the style of writing, or perhaps because their experiences were so vastly different from mine. However, I would imagine that someone even in America who had endured physical or mental abuse, or who had been ashamed of their parents, would find more points of connection with the story.

That happened with Flirting with Faith, and it worked: Joan Ball has become a new hero of mine.

“Struck Christian.”

That is how Joan Ball refers to her conversion, and it is a great summary of how she talks about her journey from atheism to a faith-filled life. The book is another spiritual memoir – I’ve suddenly been reading a lot of those, it seems. And while I’m not crazy about most of the spiritual memoirs I’ve read, this is one that I wholeheartedly endorse and recommend. It is a great book for Christians and non-Christians. It is honest, funny, and, most importantly, smells very authentic to me.

On a side note, I interviewed Joan Ball for IAM Conversations right after the book was released, and we had such a good talk, it took two episodes to include the whole thing. However, I found out that one of my favorite parts of the book had been edited out of the final copy. That bummed me out a bit. Even so, Flirting with Faith is a great read and I think Joan Ball’s story will encourage many atheists, skeptics and seekers out there, as well as Christians whose friends are any of the above.

Contributors include Taylor, Andy Crouch, Lauren Winner, Barbara Nicolosi, John Witvliet, Eugene Peterson (“the guy who wrote the Bible.” i.e. The Message), Joshua Banner, and Jeremy Begbie, with a winsome introduction from Luci Shaw.

Try to get your pastor to read this book. That said, pastors constantly have parishioners shoving the latest book that “touched them” in their faces, so I realize that most pastors aren’t going to block out a few hours on their busy counseling, hospital visiting, sermon preparing schedules to read it. In that case, send them a link to my podcast, specifically the episode where I interviewed David Taylor about this book. Then, their appetites whetted, try (again) to get your pastor to read this book.

It’s important.

I have not read much historical fiction, but this book might be a foray into a new favorite genre for me. It is longer than most novels I read – 880 pages – and is filled with many characters, most of whom are related by family line or societal interaction (servants to masters, etc.)

While I agree with the Washington Post reviewer who warns readers not to spend too much time asking whether certain details are true or not, I feel like I know many things about New York’s history better having read this book.  Rutherford clearly did his research.

The thing that is so cool about New York The Novel is that it begins with a man in the 1600′s in what is now called New York, and follows his family line – the Masters – through to the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center in 2001. Now, when I ride my bike from the Staten Island ferry up to my office near Bryant Park, I picture things I did not imagine before, because Rutherford has done such a great job of depicting the ages in New York City, as seen through the lens of what essentially evolved into an upper-class family. I was especially impressed by the pre-Civil War and Civil War eras in New York City.

“The Tipping Point” is a study of people and cultures and trends, specifically how trends evolve. Using stories of everything from how Hush Puppies became the height of fashion to why Paul Revere is credited for spreading the word so effectively, this book analyzes how products, messages and ideas “tip” and become marks of society. Reading it helped me understand a bit more about myself (many more people have called me a “connector” since the initial “maven” remark) and about why some things we try work, and other equally great ideas don’t. I have found this book extremely insightful and helpful.

The Tipping Point made me an instant Malcolm Gladwell fan, and I have another book of his on my coffee table and two on hold at the library. I plan to add all of his books to my personal bibliography.

Like my fellow Fifty-two-Fifty-two’er, Li’l Apple, I loved this book. I did not anticipate the direction it would go, and the thread of redemption – a mark of all of my favorite books – is strong. Hearty recommendation, and thanks to my friend Dee for the recommendation.

There are some good things about Crazy Love. Particularly, the chapter titles are great, and the content is all important and true. I agree with Chan’s “Profile of a Lukewarm Christian” (chapter 4), “Serving Leftovers to a Holy God” (chapter 5), “Your Best Life… Later” (chapter 7), and the rest.

(In fact, as a side note, I did a talk entitled “Your Best Life Later” a few years ago, after someone in my small group got very confused by reading Joel Osteen’s horrible book.)

Unfortunately, though, I was overall disappointed by Crazy Love. Not because it is not full of things that are true; it is, in fact, a Christ-centered book containing good theology and good advice about living a Christ-reflecting, Christ-exalting life. I want these things, so my complaint is not about the information the book contains.

The thing that I was disappointed by was that it was not well written, and when you got past the clever titles and quips, it was not fresh or innovative. The writing is abrupt and choppy – I felt several times like I was reading sermon notes, which might be better served preached than written. Besides that, though, the best content is simply recycled from better writers. In fact, I would say the best things about Crazy Love are the parts where Chan is quoting others, like A.W. Tozer, Henri Nouwen, Frederick Buechner, Oswald Chambers, and even John Piper. I underlined several quotes in Crazy Love, then realized I had underlined them in the actual books from whence they came as well. That was a little strange.

I remember being at a singles thing once, where this young guy got up and delivered a heart-felt sermon that began sounding very familiar to me. I realized about halfway through it that I had heard John Piper preach the same thing, almost verbatim, a few months before. Now, I’m all for recycling good ideas, and I have quoted my fair share of smarter and more insightful people than I. After all, as we learn from Ecclesiastes, there is really nothing new under the sun. But when I listen to someone preach, I resent it if they are merely repeating someone else’s sermon, especially if they don’t give credit to that preacher (which this guy didn’t). I think I was the only one in the room who knew he was totally ripping off John Piper and claiming it as his own.

Something similar happened while I was reading Crazy Love. When I hear a lot of buzz about a new book, I want it to not only be true, but also be written well, and I want it to offer something fresh. I want to walk away with new “Aha!” moments. And this just simply was not the case for me with Crazy Love. Is it full of truth? Yes.  A good, fresh, well-written, important book? Not in my opinion.

I feel like Crazy Love is an example of what happens when a so-so book is really well marketed. The cover, the blurbs and the supporting content (web site, videos, etc) are impressive, and there is good PR buzz behind it, especially in the Passion network (which includes John Piper, Desiring God, and other influencers in evangelical Christianity). In fact, part of me is a bit hesitant to be so honest about my feedback on Crazy Love, seeing as how Publisher’s Weekly, Louis Giglio, Chris Tomlin, Joni Eareckson Tada, Kirk Cameron and others have lent their hearty endorsements. In fact, I wonder if I would feel differently about the book if I knew Francis Chan going in. The truth is, I do not. The first time I ever heard of him was in conjunction with the recent Passion conference, but I did not get to hear his talk. I just knew he was part of it. Perhaps if I were a fan of his speaking ministry, and then I read his book, I would read/hear it differently.

That said, Crazy Love might be exactly the right book for a young Christian, for whom many of these ideas will be new, or folks who do not enjoy reading much, and would prefer to read a synthesized version of the aforementioned authors. In that case, I would recommend Crazy Love. In fact, I will likely pass my copy on to a middle schooler at my church. But for a mature believer, and since this blog is about reading, my advice is to skip Crazy Love and go straight to The Pursuit of God (Tozer), Desiring God (Piper), My Utmost for His Highest (Chambers) and With Open Hands (Nouwen). They’re the inspiration behind much of what Chan writes in Crazy Love, and they’re all simply better, more interesting, richer reading.

Since this was before he became President, it was not laden with the additional intensity of being the memoir of the First Black President of the United States. Instead, the book offers a glimpse into the experience of a mixed-race child from a broken home, trying to understand who he was, largely without knowing his father. Recounting men who were “father figures,” Obama somehow learned how to be a man. Yet the absence of his own father, whose race defined him more than his white mother’s did as he moved into community organization and advocacy, clearly made an impact on him.

The most intriguing aspect of this story was when he traveled to Kenya to meet his father’s family. The drama he encountered there would have put any American soap opera to shame, with people claiming to be his father’s children, women who were his father’s lovers, and family feuds over name and land.

This part of his story also paints a stark picture of the incredibly privilege associated with simply being born on American soil. Obama’s Kenyan half-siblings had a much harder life than he did, and had to overcome many more odds in order to gain education and opportunity. I gathered from listening that Obama is aware of this, and that it informs his decisions and humbles him.

While I do not agree with all of President Obama’s political policies, I think he is someone I could be friends with. His sense of humor and awareness of self strike me as being authentic. And reading this book has helped me to find praying for him easier. He is our nation’s President, yes. But he is also a man who had to grow up quickly and find his way in the world, avoiding so many of the pitfalls that have shipwrecked many men like him.

I think he did a pretty good job, in that respect.