As the subtitle suggests, Practice Resurrection is a book about Christian discipleship (i.e., “growing up in Christ”). But what exactly does it mean to practice resurrection? The term is borrowed from a poem by Wendell Berry. With it, Peterson means to suggest that Christian discipleship is “an open invitation to live eternity in time.” Or to put it another way, practicing resurrection is the process of living out our true identity as the baptized people of God in the world.

You’re probably not alone if you’re still asking the question, what does it mean to live out our true identity and how do you do it? At this point, readers of Peterson fall into two camps: those frustrated by his conspicuous lack of practical application, and those who are content to read on without it. If you prefer books with ample “how to” instructions or “steps” to follow, you might fall into the first group. However, if you’re willing to suspend those expectations and wade into the highly descriptive waters of Peterson’s vision, then you might discover new revelations about “what is going on and has been going on since the beginning of creation.”

The grounding text for Practice Resurrection is Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. Following Paul’s lead, Peterson spends considerable time describing the identity of the Church, not as she exists visibly in the world, but at the level of her DNA. Peterson does this by describing what God has been up to with the creation of the church, drawing parallels between Luke 1-2 and Acts 1-2, the birth of our Savior Jesus and the birth of the Church. Peterson allows plenty of room for the church to be her broken and neurotic self, but with vivid description and subtle allusion he describes the church in all her created beauty, while saving some choice words for counterfeit she sometimes becomes.

Indeed, as a mutual friend says: “Eugene puts a lot of energy into saying ‘no’.” With signature feistiness, Peterson is quick to point out what the church has become: individualistic, competitive, consumer-driven, disembodied—to name just a few.  But the church is NOT any of these things. As Peterson puts it, we maintain our baptized identity “by keeping company with people who have firsthand knowledge of who we are: men and women blessed, chosen, destined, bestowed, lavished, made known, gathered up—by God!” This notion of keeping company with people called and shaped by God is Peterson’s argument for sticking with church.

In one great section of the book, Peterson addresses the relationship between work and grace, a familiar tension we too often reduce to an either/or proposition. These are some of the most poignant words on God’s grace I’ve read in a long time. But they are complemented by an uncompromisingly high view of our daily work. Peterson asks, “[W]hat changes when Paul sets ‘work’ as a companion word alongside ‘grace’ if the next day, having been ‘raised up with him,’ we return to the same jobs?” Answer: “[W]e are no longer working for General Electric, the government, the school board, the hospital . . . We are God’s work and doing God’s work.”

One of my favorite qualities of Peterson is his ability to uncover deep meaning from seemingly insignificant sources. In this regard, Peterson is every bit the artist that he is the scholar. The stories he tells, the poets he quotes, the references he makes, and the way he reads Scripture, all put together, inspire my imagination like few other living writers. I find myself mildly wistful knowing that Practice Resurrection is the last major work Eugene Peterson intends to write. But I’m comforted knowing there is plenty of content here to discuss and consider for years to come.

Cairns is a highly regarded poet, and accordingly, knows how to say more with less. Weighing in at 115 pages, The End of Suffering wastes no time making its point: “[O]ur lives are riddled with death,” Cairns writes, “[t]he good news . . . is that even this death is potentially infused with life.” To his credit, Cairns succeeds at making such statements without ever sounding pious, sanctimonious, or glib. The End ofSuffering is not a self-help book with silver-lining anecdotes. Neither is it an intellectual stab at the theodicy debate (i.e., the relationship between evil and the existence of God).  As the title suggests, The End of Suffering anticipates a day when mercy will have the final word. But also present in the title is the conviction that “affliction, suffering, and pain are—even if they are nothing else—remarkably effective.”

What Cairns finds so effective about pain and affliction I’ll let you discover for yourself. But Cairns demonstrates a refreshing ability to talk about suffering without always talking about suffering. I was captivated by his many references to the Greek Orthodox tradition and the wisdom found there. But I also appreciated his thoughts on prayer, community, Scripture, the material world, and his Labrador retrievers. 

The End of Suffering is one of those rare books I plan to have available to give away. I’m glad it’s small enough to fit in my pocket, because I plan on carrying my copy with me for a while.

If I invited you to accompany me to a conference on the art of writing, and learn from such esteemed Christian writers as Philip Yancey, Luci Shaw, and Richard Foster, would you join me?

What if I told you it only cost twenty bucks to attend?

Here’s your invitation: I’m inspired by a new book called A Syllable of Water: Twenty Writers of Faith Reflect on Their Art (Paraclete Press, 2008), and I think you’ll enjoy it too. It contains all the nourishment of a life-changing conference on faith and writing, including perspectives on poetry, prose, creative nonfiction, memoirs, and plays; recommended reading lists; and a meditation on what it means to be a Christian and a writer.

Syllable, edited by the celebrated spiritual writer Emilie Griffin, springs from the shared expertise of The Chrysostom Society—a community of writers who have collaborated and encouraged each other for nearly 25 years. The book includes contributions from Philip Yancey on journalism, Luci Shaw on poetry, Richard Foster on spiritual writing, Scott Cairns on poetry, John Wilson on relationships with editors, Diane Glancy on playwriting, and more by Dain Trafton, John Leax, Rudy Nelson, Keith Miller, Erin McGraw, Doris Betts, Virginia Stem Owens, and William and Emilie Griffin.

Emilie Griffin says she believes Syllable will give readers the same kind of encouragement that Chrysostom Society members offer one another. “It’s inevitable that writers will seek each other out,” she explains. “The Inklings—C.S. Lewis and Tolkien and the others—were a wonderful example of how fruitful that is. Even though some of the other writers were fairly obscure, they all turned out books and encouraged each other…in wartime, in depression times, in lean times.”

During today’s hard times, writing might seem a waste of time. But in her essay on journal-keeping, Shaw writes that “crisis times” can be rewarding opportunities for writers. “… [U]nless we achieve a kind of deep honesty with ourselves as flawed, broken people, I’m not sure that we can write with the authenticity that will reach other people where they need to be reached.” (Shaw also offers practical advice—like which kind of notebook will survive the writer’s vigorous use.)

Musing on the daily discipline of writing, Harold Fickett considers how “writing, when undertaken rightly, can assist in our own redemption.”

“We tried to keep a tone of voice that is light-hearted and fun to read throughout the book,” says Shaw. “We’re writing about writing, and we’re trying to appeal to readers in any particular context—religious or not—about good writing and how to go about it.”

“You’ll see how idiosyncratic the writers are,” says Griffin. Does she have a favorite? No, but she’s currently excited about Erin McGraw’s chapter on fiction. She gleefully confides, “I have a secret life where I write fiction on the side. And it enlivens me to read what’s in this book.”

Jeffrey Overstreet, our guest reviewer, is an author, blogger on art, faith, and film, and member of the Chrysostom Society. Jeffrey will be speaking at a Laity Lodge Writers’ Retreat scheduled for next fall (details forthcoming).

[This is a revised version of an article previously published in Seattle Pacific University’s Response magazine.]

One that I have found particularly helpful is a series of devotional guides from Upper Room Books called A Guide to Prayer. Following the church calendar, each chapter (or week) offers an invocation, a Psalm, a daily Scripture reading, a selected passage from an author, space for prayer and a hymn and benediction. I’m especially fond of this book not only because it features many of my favorite writers but also because it has introduced to me a number of saints I would otherwise not have known.

For the person interested in a more traditional approach to praying the hours (or offices), I recommend The Divine Hours by Phyllis Tickle. Divided into three volumes according to seasons, The Divine Hours is more a “manual for prayer” than a daily devotional guide. Drawing on the ancient tradition of “fixed-hour prayer,” Tickle has produced a treasure trove of prayers and Scripture readings gleaned from ancient sources. Whether you use it for morning prayers alone or prayers throughout the day, it’s a great resource.

Mary Earle is an Episcopal priest, poet, author, and good friend of Laity Lodge. This fall, Morehouse Publishing released a new book by Mary titled Days of Grace: Meditations and Practices for Living With Illness.  This small book is divided into 30 chapters, each featuring a Psalm, a meditation from Mary’s personal experience, a prayer, and a practice. One gets the feeling when reading Mary’s words of sitting across the table from a wise and trusted friend. 

Mark Roberts is our Senior Director and Scholar-in-Residence. One of the great contributions he makes to the Foundations for Laity Renewal is his Daily Reflection and Prayer. For the past two years, Mark has been working his way through the Bible one book at a time, jumping back and forth between the Old and New Testaments. His reflections, questions, and prayers are always refreshingly personal and always filled with rich insights into the text. If you’re not already a subscriber, I encourage you to sign-up and start receiving his Daily Reflection.