In Which I Read The Pursuing God

I have been lugging around a modicum of guilt the last many weeks. Right before we left to be on vacation I received a copy of The Pursuing God in the mail with a note that our beloved editor here on the Evangelical Channel thought I ought to read it.

As you all know, I am not a great reader, but rather a slow one. And so I have been trucking away through this book, and have not yet reached the end. However, I think the book club moment is about to pass me by so I’m going to write about it now, and hopefully finish it later.

I would like to begin by saying that The Pursuing God, at least up to the midway point, is orthodox. This is no small feat in this glorious new era of practically everybody slipping into some muddy puddle of Christian foolishness. Therefore, I heartily congratulate the author, Joshua Ryan Butler, for articulating sound Christian doctrine clearly and with attention to detail. It is tragically hard to find a contemporary book that doesn’t, in some small way, here and there undermine the scriptures and chip away at the fundamental doctrines of the church. In this way, I wholeheartedly recommend this book and wouldn’t be worried about anybody reading it.

That said, as a matter of taste, I am generally set on edge by the emotionalism of the age, and the idea of God being very desperate to be with us. The tagline, “a Reckless, Irrational, Obsessed Love That’s Dying to Bring Us Home” set me on off right out of the gate and I read page after page really wishing that we could all back well away from our feelings. I mean, it is true that God presents himself in the scriptures as potentially unhinged from our perspective. He keeps buying Israel back from her prostituting idolatry even when she doesn’t want him to. He does appear obsessed and, from our vantage point, reckless in that he doesn’t do things the way we would do them. But that doesn’t mean that he is fundamentally irrational.

Fortunately, when you get into the meat of the book, the character of God is presented scripturally in a fairly robust way. Butler gets into the Why of what God is doing. And what love actually is. And how the atonement is a good thing and not the felt need invention of a lot of weirdos.

Since I haven’t quite finished and so this is probably not all I’ll say, I’ll just highlight one bit I liked a lot, and one bit that made me shudder. Then you can toddle off and buy the book and read it yourself. The main thing, I believe, is to buy the book, and then, if you don’t read it yourself, give it to someone you think would benefit more than you, as the Reverend Barton Gingrich has done to me.

The bit I’ve liked best so far, and the part where the writing, I think, was smoothest and most compelling, was the vignette wherein the author described nearly losing his daughter. In it he was trying to get at how, exactly, the Father giving up the Son to die a brutal death that atones for the world is not akin to cosmic child abuse. The suffering of his child, his own mental anguish, and the power of the cross were really nicely woven together and I was quite on the edge of my seat.

The bit I didn’t like quite as much–and this is a peculiar bias of mine–was his vision of God engaging himself to a city in Asia. He saw, as it were, a diamond bracelet coming down from the sky, and thousands of arms reaching up as if one arm, and God putting the bracelet on the arm and thereby pledging himself in love to this particular city. I think ten years ago I wouldn’t have thought too much about it, except, why would God give such a vision? Aren’t the things that he’s said in the bible enough to motivate the believer to go out into the world with the saving news of Jesus? How can we really measure what God is doing in any one particular place? Couldn’t you be setting yourself and others up for discouragement and sorrow if everyone in that particular metropolis decides to reject Christianity in all its forms? I guess I take that back, I would have asked these questions ten years ago and I’m still asking them. If we have to have a vision from God, or someone or other, can’t we be a little narrower in our language and say something like, “I happened to imagine a bracelet coming down from heaven and it reminded me of something I’d read in the bible and so I thought I would write it here.” But as most of the evangelical world is fine with special words and visions from our Lord, I imagine the majority of readers will feel I am being a stick in the mud.

I welcome, as I’m sure Mr. Butler does as well, you rushing out, buying it, reading it and commenting here to me about how I am wrong. And also, go read more from the Patheos Book Club.