Bestseller TerKeurst (It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way) issues a gentle invitation for Christians to swap out blind trust for one based in intuition and faith. After her marriage collapsed, the author became paralyzed by a sense of distrust in her friends (some of whom abandoned her), herself, and most troublingly God, who’d failed to intervene while allowing “the people who hurt me... to carry on.” Tracing her recovery, she describes learning to discern between emotional triggers and real signs of untrustworthiness, recognize red flags, and repair severed relationships by watching for genuine change in the other person’s actions. Perhaps most challenging was restoring her faith, which she eventually did by letting go of expectations for God to ease her suffering and instead appreciating life’s smallest moments, from biting into a ripe peach to listening to music “that calms my mind and makes me exhale.” Despite flimsy bits of pop psychology borrowed from her therapist, the author’s central idea—that trust is rooted in faith as well as personal discernment—is realistic and flexible, making room for readers’ anxieties (which should be shared with God) and limitations (“What my mind can’t understand, my heart tends to distrust”). It’s a boon for wounded believers looking to get back on their feet. (Oct.)

Reviewed on 08/23/2024 | Details & Permalink

Interfaith minister and Tiktok creator Kamstra recounts her departure from “organized Christianity” in this empathetic debut guide to breaking free from “high-control” religion and finding a new spirituality. Devoted to her faith since childhood, the author spent decades “trying to contort” herself to an evangelical dogma rooted in intolerance and obedience. In adulthood, she began pointing out those hypocrisies to church leaders, and the blowback eventually propelled her to leave the church to search “for something more.” She consulted Christian authors like C.S. Lewis and John Shelby Spong, questioned the patriarchal systems that grounded her religious upbringing, reread the Bible absent the “fear-based” theology that demonized members of the LGBTQ community, and delved into such concepts as the divine feminine. Inviting readers to reevaluate their theological roots, she offers advice on finding different ways to pray and meditate, while making room for those who wish to return to some or all aspects of organized Christianity. Throughout, Kamstra is unfailingly candid about her own spiritual questions (“To this day, I still don’t know what I believe, and yet the paradox is that I have immense peace with not knowing”). She never downplays the challenges inherent in deconstructing one’s religious beliefs, making her an excellent guide for those with similar questions. This is a valuable resource. (Oct.)

Reviewed on 08/23/2024 | Details & Permalink

Dreher (The Benedict Option), an editor at the American Conservative, offers an eclectic invitation for Christians to find the sacred in the everyday. Tracing the West’s “progressive disenchantment” with a more mystical faith “since the High Middle Ages,” he explains how the industrial revolution propelled a rise of capitalism that has left humans obsessed with their own power and knowledge, blinded to the signs of “divine reality” that permeated the lives of “our enchanted ancestors.” As a corrective, readers are advised to adopt an attitude of vulnerability and openness to the existence of God, “or at least... meaning, beyond your head.” According to Dreher, doing so opens up a world where music, art, and natural beauty are evidence of “God’s handiwork”; “signs, wonders, and miracles” abound; and “demonic” activity is a reality. Dreher’s message about making room for life’s unknowns is often stimulating, though he struggles to tie together a surfeit of topics—UFOs, artificial intelligence, exorcisms—and has a tendency to wander into distracting hyperbole (“If AI becomes sentient, or so convincingly mimics sentience that it’s a distinction without a difference, then we will treat AI entities like gods”). Flaws aside, this has much for the spiritually curious to chew on. (Oct.)

Reviewed on 08/16/2024 | Details & Permalink

By confronting their mortality, readers can better appreciate their limited time on Earth, contends this enlightening outing from Ebenstein (Anatomica), founder of Morbid Anatomy, an organization that explores “death, life, and the in-between.” Drawing on religious ritual, psychology, and an array of cultural traditions, she frames death as part of a cycle of rebirth reflected in everything from a butterfly’s metamorphosis to Christian notions of the “dark night of the soul” preceding spiritual renewal. She also discusses the value of mourning loved ones via wakes and shivas. Such communal rituals anchor death as a meaningful part of being human, but their waning importance in a secular Western culture—where death is increasingly viewed as a “failure of [medical] intervention”—has driven increased anxiety about the end, according to Ebenstein. For the most part, she manages to allay those anxieties with perspective, compassion, and accessible guidance, though reader mileage may vary on such unorthodox exercises as making “something out of the hair of someone you love, dead or alive.” The result is a revealing and wise glimpse into what might lie beyond. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/16/2024 | Details & Permalink

Buddhist retreat leader Brady (Walking the Teacher’s Path with Mindfulness) competently traces how his winding spiritual path has been guided by the lessons of Vietnamese Buddhist teacher Thích Nhất Hạnh. Born into a reform Jewish family, the author flirted with Quakerism as an adult before finding in Buddhism the “missing piece” of his spiritual life. In 1992, he began practicing with Nhất Hạnh at Plum Village, a mindfulness community in France. Inspired by Nhất Hạnh’s notion of mindfulness as “dwelling deeply in the present moment” and consciously empowering one’s positive impulses, Brady sought to incorporate those lessons into his life. He details introducing yogic practices into his high school math classroom, and—most movingly—revitalizing his relationship with his Alzheimer’s-stricken father: “I’m learning to be completely present with another, without language, past, or future.” Brady’s spiritual ups and downs are documented with welcome candor, though their impact is flattened by static prose and a fractured structure that dips into the author’s childhood, therapy sessions, time at Plum Village, and more. Still, it’s a robust reflection on what it means to search for life’s deeper meaning. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/16/2024 | Details & Permalink

Christian nationalism is a shoddy guise for “racism, anti-immigrant views, antisemitic views, anti-Muslim views, and patriarchal understandings of gender roles,” according to this energetic if unremarkable debut treatise. Tyler, a lead organizer of Christians Against Christian Nationalism, contextualizes the ideology as the key driver of the January 6 Capitol attack and more recent incidents of religious violence, before rewinding to trace how notions of America as a “chosen”—and white—nation developed during the country’s founding and have fueled racism, colonialism, and abuses against minorities ever since. Later chapters advise readers to fight the threat through “multiracial, multiethnic, and multifaith coalitions,” in which white Christians should “listen well” to people of color and follow their lead on initiatives to avoid adopting a “white savior complex.” She also shares familiar wisdom on broaching the topic with friends and family—approach conversations with humility, “genuine curiosity,” and the patience to engage in multiple discussions over time. Tyler effectively sounds the alarm on the rising threat of Christian nationalism and its harms to both the church and the country, though her case is weakened by underbaked historical references (including brief mentions of the “Christian complicity with violent power” that fueled Nazism). Amid a rising tide of books on the pressing threat to American churches, this fails to stand out. (Oct.)

Reviewed on 08/09/2024 | Details & Permalink

TikTokker Samayoa debuts with an irreverent compendium of rituals and spells for readers who “want to be witchy so bad but can’t seem to find the time, energy, or will to live (at least some days).” Writing that witchcraft is more about intention than complex spellwork or expensive ingredients, Samayoa shares such low-energy rituals for focus, energy, and abundance as a “self-love herbal mixture” combining rose, lavender, and chamomile; a ritual to “draw peaceful vibes” into one’s home by placing a piece of cotton in a bowl of sugar; and a (slightly more complex) “creative inspiration ritual” calling for frankincense, different colored candles, a feather, different stones, and a journal. With clear ingredient lists, substitution suggestions, and spoons to indicate difficulty level (a one-spoon spell for “not giv[ing] a fuck” involves lighting a candle and whispering, “I do not give a shit. You cannot make me give a shit”), Samayoa’s easy-to-grasp spells and down-to-earth tone make her an irresistible guide to a “magical” practice that combines esoteric ritual, self-care suggestions, and plenty of upbeat affirmations, frequently to delightful effect. This charms. Illus. (Oct.)

Reviewed on 08/09/2024 | Details & Permalink

“The gorgeousness of a modern magic tradition is that we get to curate it to suit us exactly,” according to this flexible and creative outing from memoirist Tea (Modern Tarot). After ditching her childhood Catholicism in 1980s Boston and embracing queerness and feminism, the author developed a “fully bespoke” witchcraft practice influenced by (mostly European) “mythology and history,” pop culture, and “queer ancestry.” Encouraging readers to shape their own witchcraft practice “to suit who you are,” Tea offers a broad array of eclectic practices, including spells honoring different goddesses (one asks the Polish goddess Leda for “increased femme magic, strong femme protection”); “kitchen witchery” that uses food as a tool for practice (walnuts are “sacred to the planet Jupiter, handy for spells looking to bring about good fortune and jolly times”; sage is “helpful for grounding after you’ve been wounded or shaken”); and darker hex magic that can be valuable if not used for “petty, vindictive” aims (the author’s own hexes are directed “toward the larger sociopolitcal ills we face”). Tea constructs an appealing notion of magic as an empowering spiritual alternative to patriarchial religious systems, and includes valuable sections on using magic to engage in social change. Wannabe witches will be delighted. (Oct.)

Reviewed on 08/09/2024 | Details & Permalink

McNutt (Calvin Meets Voltaire), a professor of biblical studies at Wheaton College, sketches an uneven portrait of the woman who first witnessed Christ’s resurrection and whose legacy has been transformed and warped across history. The author traces how biblical interpreters in the Middle Ages in most of Europe cast Mary as a penitent prostitute “saved by her fervent love of Jesus” (though in France she was lauded as the first apostle and garnered popularity surpassing that of “the almost ethereal Virgin Mary”); how female Protestant reformers in 16th-century Europe drew on her example for permission to preach the gospel; and how during the 19th century, as her associations with prostitution returned, evangelicals headed a “Magdalenist” movement to “rehabilitate” prostitutes. McNutt’s rigorous textual analysis provides a revealing window into the ways societies stereotyped—and overlooked—scriptural women according to shifting cultural and social mores, though her use of Mary’s example to comment on present-day Christianity feels underbaked (“Mary Magdalene can serve as a model of steady faith in Christ, even when our churches fail us and hurt us”). The result is a shaky reconstruction of an oft-forgotten figure. (Oct.)

Reviewed on 08/09/2024 | Details & Permalink

Zen priest Masuno (Don’t Worry) touts the merits of living a more unencumbered life in this wise and succinct guide. Contending that letting go is nothing less than a “survival skill” in an age of information overload, Masuno shares brief lessons on letting go at work (set aside one’s feelings in order to “get along with... adversaries”; accept personal weaknesses rather than working fruitlessly to overcome them); in personal relationships (observe rather than automatically intervening in others’ problems; accept that it’s impossible to fully know another person—“when you don’t understand, let it go” is the key to a happy marriage) and on social media (maintain “a certain distance” so as not to engage in “futile battles”). Masuno has a knack for turning a phrase to make familiar advice memorable—learning from one’s mistakes, he writes, is a way to “remake how we carry the past with us”—even if truisms like “worrying over little things... only makes your life more difficult” might elicit eye rolls. Still, the stressed will find much to appreciate. (Nov.)

Reviewed on 08/09/2024 | Details & Permalink