Another Brazos Bloggers review: Ronald J. Sider, Nonviolent Action: What Christian Ethics Demands But Most Christians Have Never Really Tried (Brazos, 2015).
Seldom has the case for nonviolent action -- which Ronald Sider defines in his new book as "an activist confrontation with evil that respects the personhood even of the 'enemy' and therefore seeks both to end the oppression and to reconcile the oppressor through nonviolent methods" (xv) -- been made so readable. For those only vaguely aware of the victories that nonviolent actions have won, this is an excellent primer: the book's first three parts detail some of the most memorable of those victories (e.g., Gandhi vs. the British Empire; Martin Luther King, Jr., in the fight for civil rights in the US; struggles against Communist control in Poland and Germany; and the "Arab Spring"). Its last section reminds us why the word action appears so prominently in the title, for this is not only a history but a call to engagement. Sider isn't shy about noting the problems and inconsistencies that have arisen in some of the struggles above, but he is clearly and justifiably proud of the campaigns in which he himself has played a role. (Indeed, these emerge as some of the book's best chapters, from his admission of fearing for his life while intervening with Witness for Peace in Nicaragua in 1985 [47] to his involvement in the formation of Christian Peacemaker Teams [147].) His challenge to readers comes through clearly in this last section, when he calls "just- war" and pacifist Christians alike to be more consistent and courageous in their actions, not just in their beliefs. The book would have been improved by adding a concise chapter on the theology of nonviolent action (hinted at but underdeveloped on 173, 177), but even as it stands, it's a volume that cannot and must not be ignored.
I blog about my plurality of callings -- writing, teaching, editing, as well as resourcing for pastors, and (most recently) renovating our new house into a home and centre for spiritual direction -- and about the ways in which these callings cohere together. Writing has been described as a lonely vocation, but the same applies to all of the above, to varying extents; yet in none of them do we truly work alone.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Friday, May 1, 2015
Book Review: Middleton's A New Heaven and a New Earth
A short book review of J. Richard Middleton's new book, A New Heaven and a New Earth: Reclaiming Biblical Eschatology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2014), for NetGalley. I'll be presenting an expanded version of this as part of a review panel, with a response by the author, at the spring meeting of the Canadian Evangelical Theological Association at the 2015 Congress of the Humanities and Social Sciences.
I'm always impressed by Richard Middleton's work, and this book is no exception. It's a difficult trick to write about eschatology without losing sight of the larger narrative of biblical theology, but Middleton pulls it off! He begins by showing how the book's concern fits within his story, noting his concern "to make the Bible's vision for the redemption of creation available to a wide audience" (16) -- many of whom might struggle with some of the same questions that he's wrestled with throughout his theological life.
The opening chapters place in narrative context "God's unswerving purpose to redeem earthly creation (rather than take us out of earth to heaven)," arguing that the image of "an ethereal 'heaven' is more traditional than biblical" (17, 23) and that humans bearing the image of God is at least as much about cultivation and culture as it is about conventional images of worship. Middleton shrewdly labels his thesis as "holistic salvation," which puts the onus on potential opponents to prove that their vision is as "holistic" as his -- as some Dispensationalists have previously done with terms like "biblical," "normal," and "literal." The upshot is that Middleton is able to note the Bible's interest in concrete details of creation and culture, including systemic oppression and deliverance from same in the Old Testament, without undermining divine transcendence and redemption. In Middleton's treatment of the New Testament, I particularly appreciate his re-interpretation of pivotal passages like Romans 8, where Paul "includes the nonhuman creation in God's salvific plan" but puts humans in Pharaoh's place: "we have subjected creation to...frustration, much as the Egyptian king oppressed the Israelites" (160). The book's two final sections, taking up "problem texts" for holistic eschatology and the reconstruction of "kingdom" ethics, are commendable for their systematic presentation and humour -- as when the author hopes that the "false teaching" of the annihilation of the present earth will itself be destroyed at Christ's return: " 'Left Behind' theology will finally be left behind!" (200)
My own (not terribly eschatological) hope is that this book will take its place next to classics like Ladd's The Presence of the Future, though I'm not sure that those who most need to be convinced by Middleton's work will be patient enough to read it thoroughly. As I largely agree with his holistic eschatology, my two caveats concern the theology that supports it. First, I would like Middleton to clarify his definition of sin, as it shifts over the early sections: it's "our culpable mismanagement of our human calling" but does not simplistically drive "God's presence out from earthly life" (48); yet it's also "innovations in the misuse of power, which impede God's purposes for the flourishing of earthly life and prevent God's presence from fully permeating creation" (53; variously rephrased on 55, 71, and 165). I understand and agree that the definition can develop and vary according to different texts within the metanarrative, but again, I'd like some further clarity on the definition that emerges from that very development. Second, I was glad to see Middleton devote attention to 2 Corinthians 5:1-9 (216-17, 229-31), not just for the passage's eschatological importance, but because it's recently become devotionally formative for me. But I challenge some aspects of Middleton's reading of this text, as Walter Grundmann's interpretation (TDNT 2:63-65) supplies some needed nuance -- not least of which is the role of the Holy Spirit, which Middleton neglects.
My heartfelt thanks to Richard for writing this excellent book, and to Baker Academic for publishing and offering the opportunity to review it.
I'm always impressed by Richard Middleton's work, and this book is no exception. It's a difficult trick to write about eschatology without losing sight of the larger narrative of biblical theology, but Middleton pulls it off! He begins by showing how the book's concern fits within his story, noting his concern "to make the Bible's vision for the redemption of creation available to a wide audience" (16) -- many of whom might struggle with some of the same questions that he's wrestled with throughout his theological life.
The opening chapters place in narrative context "God's unswerving purpose to redeem earthly creation (rather than take us out of earth to heaven)," arguing that the image of "an ethereal 'heaven' is more traditional than biblical" (17, 23) and that humans bearing the image of God is at least as much about cultivation and culture as it is about conventional images of worship. Middleton shrewdly labels his thesis as "holistic salvation," which puts the onus on potential opponents to prove that their vision is as "holistic" as his -- as some Dispensationalists have previously done with terms like "biblical," "normal," and "literal." The upshot is that Middleton is able to note the Bible's interest in concrete details of creation and culture, including systemic oppression and deliverance from same in the Old Testament, without undermining divine transcendence and redemption. In Middleton's treatment of the New Testament, I particularly appreciate his re-interpretation of pivotal passages like Romans 8, where Paul "includes the nonhuman creation in God's salvific plan" but puts humans in Pharaoh's place: "we have subjected creation to...frustration, much as the Egyptian king oppressed the Israelites" (160). The book's two final sections, taking up "problem texts" for holistic eschatology and the reconstruction of "kingdom" ethics, are commendable for their systematic presentation and humour -- as when the author hopes that the "false teaching" of the annihilation of the present earth will itself be destroyed at Christ's return: " 'Left Behind' theology will finally be left behind!" (200)
My own (not terribly eschatological) hope is that this book will take its place next to classics like Ladd's The Presence of the Future, though I'm not sure that those who most need to be convinced by Middleton's work will be patient enough to read it thoroughly. As I largely agree with his holistic eschatology, my two caveats concern the theology that supports it. First, I would like Middleton to clarify his definition of sin, as it shifts over the early sections: it's "our culpable mismanagement of our human calling" but does not simplistically drive "God's presence out from earthly life" (48); yet it's also "innovations in the misuse of power, which impede God's purposes for the flourishing of earthly life and prevent God's presence from fully permeating creation" (53; variously rephrased on 55, 71, and 165). I understand and agree that the definition can develop and vary according to different texts within the metanarrative, but again, I'd like some further clarity on the definition that emerges from that very development. Second, I was glad to see Middleton devote attention to 2 Corinthians 5:1-9 (216-17, 229-31), not just for the passage's eschatological importance, but because it's recently become devotionally formative for me. But I challenge some aspects of Middleton's reading of this text, as Walter Grundmann's interpretation (TDNT 2:63-65) supplies some needed nuance -- not least of which is the role of the Holy Spirit, which Middleton neglects.
My heartfelt thanks to Richard for writing this excellent book, and to Baker Academic for publishing and offering the opportunity to review it.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Book Review: Todd Billings' Rejoicing in Lament
Time for another Brazos Bloggers review: J. Todd Billings, Rejoicing in Lament: Wrestling with Incurable Cancer and Life in Christ (Brazos, 2015).
It's not always easy to see the connection between a theological book and real, everyday life. Some books seem to forget or ignore that connection; others try to address it by tacking an "application" section on at the end, often brief and unconvincing. This book isn't like that at all: every page reminds us that its author wrote it because of, and in the midst of, his diagnosis of and treatment for multiple myeloma. So it's straightforward and relentless in dealing with suffering and lament. But it's also a joyful, hopeful, and beautiful book.
The first two chapters explore Billings' cancer diagnosis as a sensation of "a narrowing, a tightening, rather than 'a spacious place' to dwell" (5, drawing from Billings' blog about his illness, dwelling here on Psalm 31), while introducing the need for lament as a response to suffering, the Psalms as "companions" for our journeys in joyful and well as lament-ful times, and the questions about suffering that Scripture sometimes leaves unanswered. The next three chapters probe deeper into lament as an exercise of paradoxical faith, trust, and protest -- an exercise made more difficult for the author by the trauma of chemotherapy. Billings excels here at helping his readers to see the bigger story beyond his own body and cancer: "we need to learn how to mourn for that which injures the body of Christ and leads away from Christ's kingdom" (39). In subsequent chapters on the role that death plays in the story of God and his church, and the problems of praying for healing, the author returns often to the words of Colossians 3 ("hidden with Christ in God") as a biblical touchstone. After an especially strong chapter that likens the poison of chemo and the "new life" of a stem cell transplant to the "strong medicine" of God's response to sin and death, Billings concludes with a sensitively articulated argument on divine impassibility and steadfast love, and a final meditation on our "displacement": even in rejoicing and lamenting, "our own stories are not preserved in a pristine way... [but] incorporated into a much larger story -- God's story in Christ" (170).
This book won't be for everyone. It tries hard to be accessible, and it often is, but at other moments it's more challenging, demanding more empathy and/or more patience for theology than some readers may want to bring to the table. For those who do -- and, perhaps better, for groups who might read this book together as a way of walking more sensitively and prayerfully with loved ones diagnosed with severe illness -- there's much to treasure here.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Book review: Galatians and Christian Theology
A brief (again, brief by Book Review Geek standards) book review of Galatians and Christian Theology, Mark W. Elliott, Scott J. Hafemann, N. T. Wright, and John Frederick, editors (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2014), for NetGalley:
In this volume of papers from the University of St Andrews' fourth triennial Scripture & Theology conference (2012), the editors rightly note that getting the papers in a conference volume to "talk" to one another -- to convey to the reading audience something of the conversations that took place at the conference itself -- is a work in progress, but one in which they're improving. Many of the papers in this book are splendid examples of what it should look like when biblical studies and theology go hand in hand; many also reference and/or riff on one another, in richly integrated ways. That doesn't mean that the result is always easy to read: some of the papers are highly technical in their approach to biblical studies, theology, or both, so the audience likeliest to benefit from them will probably be at the level of graduate studies or above. But those who choose to invest (financially, intellectually, and even spiritually) in this book will find that it substantially reshapes their thinking about Paul's letter to the Galatians, as it has done with mine.
The volume is divided into three parts -- Justification, Gospel, and Ethics -- but even these divisions are more for convenience than rigid categorization, as many of their constituents participate in more than one category. To note just a few of (what I found to be) the book's highlights: first, having read co-editor Tom Wright's recent two-volume book on Paul, I was amused that he managed to fit several of his most vital points from that book into just (!) forty pages here, as when he repeats his incisive conclusion that "messiahship, like image-bearing humanness itself, was all along a category designed, as it were, for God's own use" (39). I also enjoyed John Barclay's studied description of Paul as living "in a face-to-face society where self-advertisement, rivalry, and public competition were a perpetual cause of tension," to which he responded with "a vision of communal life where the destructive features of this agonistic culture can be both recognized and effectively repulsed" (305). And the collective treatment of complex topics in Galatians (not just the principal headings of justification, gospel, and ethics, but also apocalyptic, for example) is highly nuanced, if (perhaps inevitably) repetitive at times. One caveat for Kobo users: I'm not sure whether the problem was with this book or on Kobo's end, but I found that the annotations I made in the text were randomly re-organized (i.e., not by date, position in book, or any other criteria that I could see), and some annotations were dropped completely. Perhaps this won't be a problem for other e-readers -- and it certainly won't be for those who will benefit from reading this excellent new book the old-fashioned way!
In this volume of papers from the University of St Andrews' fourth triennial Scripture & Theology conference (2012), the editors rightly note that getting the papers in a conference volume to "talk" to one another -- to convey to the reading audience something of the conversations that took place at the conference itself -- is a work in progress, but one in which they're improving. Many of the papers in this book are splendid examples of what it should look like when biblical studies and theology go hand in hand; many also reference and/or riff on one another, in richly integrated ways. That doesn't mean that the result is always easy to read: some of the papers are highly technical in their approach to biblical studies, theology, or both, so the audience likeliest to benefit from them will probably be at the level of graduate studies or above. But those who choose to invest (financially, intellectually, and even spiritually) in this book will find that it substantially reshapes their thinking about Paul's letter to the Galatians, as it has done with mine.
The volume is divided into three parts -- Justification, Gospel, and Ethics -- but even these divisions are more for convenience than rigid categorization, as many of their constituents participate in more than one category. To note just a few of (what I found to be) the book's highlights: first, having read co-editor Tom Wright's recent two-volume book on Paul, I was amused that he managed to fit several of his most vital points from that book into just (!) forty pages here, as when he repeats his incisive conclusion that "messiahship, like image-bearing humanness itself, was all along a category designed, as it were, for God's own use" (39). I also enjoyed John Barclay's studied description of Paul as living "in a face-to-face society where self-advertisement, rivalry, and public competition were a perpetual cause of tension," to which he responded with "a vision of communal life where the destructive features of this agonistic culture can be both recognized and effectively repulsed" (305). And the collective treatment of complex topics in Galatians (not just the principal headings of justification, gospel, and ethics, but also apocalyptic, for example) is highly nuanced, if (perhaps inevitably) repetitive at times. One caveat for Kobo users: I'm not sure whether the problem was with this book or on Kobo's end, but I found that the annotations I made in the text were randomly re-organized (i.e., not by date, position in book, or any other criteria that I could see), and some annotations were dropped completely. Perhaps this won't be a problem for other e-readers -- and it certainly won't be for those who will benefit from reading this excellent new book the old-fashioned way!
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Book Review: Nathan Foster's Making of an Ordinary Saint
Here's another brief book review for Baker Books Bloggers: Nathan Foster's The Making of an Ordinary Saint: My Journey from Frustration to Joy with the Spiritual Disciplines (Baker Books, 2014).
When reviewing a book, there’s a temptation to read quickly,
to skim for a quick grasp of the essentials. A good book on spiritual formation
won’t let you get away with that: you’d see the words but miss the wisdom.
Nathan Foster’s new book is no exception. In learning to embrace spiritual
disciplines that had previously frustrated him, Foster makes no attempt to
ignore his father’s legacy. Quite the opposite: not only does Richard Foster contribute
forewords to the book and to each chapter, he’s also present through discussions
that the author includes in addressing his own struggle with each discipline.
And of course, these are the “classical” disciplines as determined by his father’s
classic, Celebration of Discipline — fasting,
prayer, submission, worship, service, etc. — so in emerging from Richard’s
shadow, Foster the Younger journeys through each, but in refreshingly narrative
form. He shows deep honesty in assessing his own earlier failures (and gradual,
painstaking successes) in his chapter on the discipline of study, and again in
admitting his struggle to “unplug” from technological media while seeking
simplicity, and yet again in naming and confessing the addictive patterns that
have darkened his life.
Foster does well in inviting readers along on his journey, but
there are brief missteps along the way. Some of the “portrait” sections that
conclude each chapter feel tacked-on, not fleshed out fully enough to do justice
to the lives of those highlighted there; the inclusion of Jane Addams as an
exemplar of service surprised me, perhaps because another very recent book from
a Baker imprint (Scot McKnight’s Kingdom
Conspiracy, which I reviewed a little while ago) severely criticized Addams for diluting and over-socializing
the gospel. Foster’s references to Scripture sometimes seem offhand, and in the
one case where he highlights a specific Greek word from 1 Timothy, he’s simply
wrong: Paul uses another word entirely. That said, many readers will find
welcome ways of encountering the disciplines here, as I have. Foster’s adaptation
of the monastic experience of the early church fathers and mothers — coming to
recognize difficult moments through which God guides us as “my desert to
embrace” (pp. 155-61) — struck deep in my heart and spirit, and I know that
what he’s shared throughout this book will encourage me as I encounter the “deserts”
and the joys ahead.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Book Review: McKnight's Kingdom Conspiracy
Now it's Brazos Bloggers' turn. This is a brief review -- well, brief for someone used to 1200-to-2000-word reviews, anyway -- of Scot McKnight, Kingdom Conspiracy: Returning to the Radical Mission of the Local Church (Brazos, 2014).
I enjoy reading Scot McKnight's work, even when I disagree with him (usually on relatively minor points). And I don't disagree with him here, for the most part. What he's trying to do, and largely succeeding at, in his new book is to reconcile two Christian views of "kingdom" -- as theology, as language, and as activity -- that have tended to diverge over the past century and are doing so again today. McKnight casts one stream of thought and practice, which tends to aim its "kingdom" work toward "the common good," social justice, and culture-making, as "skinny jeans kingdom" people, and the other, the kingdom-as-personal-salvation camp, as "pleated pants kingdom" people (including, cleverly, "the arch-Pleated Pants scholar" George Eldon Ladd, p. 10). Those who recognize themselves as falling into one camp or the other will find their views and practices represented well here, both in strengths and weaknesses. For those folks, and for the rest of us who find ourselves somewhere between the two extremes, this book serves as a fine biblical theology of church, kingdom, and mission. It's very readable, too: the most challenging words in the body of the text are perhaps eschatological and parabolic, while readers who want to go deeper can plunge into sources recommended in the endnotes (as when McKnight notes Tom Wright's recent two-volume work in its entirety in partial support of a point on first-century use of "Son of God" imagery, p. 132!).
Throughout Kingdom Conspiracy, McKnight nicely balances his attention to many facets of kingdom thought and action, including the tensions of its growth in this world (classically, the "already" and the "not yet", and as both "realm" and "reign"); the biblical (and deeply contextual) story that it encapsulates; and what it looks like to live out the kingdom in mission, in vocation, and in public and political presence -- or, simply put, what it means to embody the kingdom in and as the church. There are moments when the author nearly loses that balance. I wish he'd added more nuance to his study of the New Testament's view of "the world" and Jesus' confrontation with its idolatrous worldviews (pp. 17, 60): a brief focus on the way that Rome saw the world (as the oikoumenē, the inhabited world/culture that it had inherited from Greece) might have strengthened McKnight's discussion of culture and counterculture, both here and through the rest of the volume. But that missing nuance does little to hurt his overall argument. This book is highly recommended for anyone -- no matter how close or distant their relationship with "church" -- who has ever struggled with how the church is to embody God's kingdom in the world.
I enjoy reading Scot McKnight's work, even when I disagree with him (usually on relatively minor points). And I don't disagree with him here, for the most part. What he's trying to do, and largely succeeding at, in his new book is to reconcile two Christian views of "kingdom" -- as theology, as language, and as activity -- that have tended to diverge over the past century and are doing so again today. McKnight casts one stream of thought and practice, which tends to aim its "kingdom" work toward "the common good," social justice, and culture-making, as "skinny jeans kingdom" people, and the other, the kingdom-as-personal-salvation camp, as "pleated pants kingdom" people (including, cleverly, "the arch-Pleated Pants scholar" George Eldon Ladd, p. 10). Those who recognize themselves as falling into one camp or the other will find their views and practices represented well here, both in strengths and weaknesses. For those folks, and for the rest of us who find ourselves somewhere between the two extremes, this book serves as a fine biblical theology of church, kingdom, and mission. It's very readable, too: the most challenging words in the body of the text are perhaps eschatological and parabolic, while readers who want to go deeper can plunge into sources recommended in the endnotes (as when McKnight notes Tom Wright's recent two-volume work in its entirety in partial support of a point on first-century use of "Son of God" imagery, p. 132!).
Throughout Kingdom Conspiracy, McKnight nicely balances his attention to many facets of kingdom thought and action, including the tensions of its growth in this world (classically, the "already" and the "not yet", and as both "realm" and "reign"); the biblical (and deeply contextual) story that it encapsulates; and what it looks like to live out the kingdom in mission, in vocation, and in public and political presence -- or, simply put, what it means to embody the kingdom in and as the church. There are moments when the author nearly loses that balance. I wish he'd added more nuance to his study of the New Testament's view of "the world" and Jesus' confrontation with its idolatrous worldviews (pp. 17, 60): a brief focus on the way that Rome saw the world (as the oikoumenē, the inhabited world/culture that it had inherited from Greece) might have strengthened McKnight's discussion of culture and counterculture, both here and through the rest of the volume. But that missing nuance does little to hurt his overall argument. This book is highly recommended for anyone -- no matter how close or distant their relationship with "church" -- who has ever struggled with how the church is to embody God's kingdom in the world.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Book Review: Next: Pastoral Succession That Works
I've written short book reviews here for Speakeasy and LibraryThing.com -- and I'll be starting to add some for NetGalley, Brazos Press Bloggers and Baker Books Bloggers. This will be the first example for Baker.
Next: Pastoral Succession That Works, by William Vanderbloemen and Warren Bird (Baker, 2014).
From its first words -- "Every pastor is an interim pastor" -- to its diverse potential audience, there's much to commend about Next. The authors have clearly done their homework concerning the challenges of transitioning from one pastor to the next; in fact, it's their work with pastors and churches whose transitions didn't work well (and many others that did) that drives their concern. Whether the reader is a newly appointed pastor, one approaching retirement or a move to another post, or a new or longtime church board member, there are lessons worth remembering here. The authors are also aware that many of their readers will find themselves in more than one of the above roles over the course of their ministerial lives -- which makes this as valuable as a later reference text as it is for a first-time reading.
Vanderbloemen and Bird wisely note that there's no single formula for a successful succession from one pastor to the next, but they aren't afraid to name names in recounting disastrous transitions, either (nor to protect anonymity, when necessary); and to their credit, even as they gather lessons from such disasters, they're careful not to make too much of the scandal involved, but to call their readers toward greater expressions of grace. They also explore the close interconnections of pastoral vocation, church mission, and personal identity, which (when undervalued) can make pastoral succession such a sensitive issue. And as the spouse of a pastor just entering her second year of ministry at our church, I appreciate that at least some of their stories involve female pastors (notwithstanding the males shown in transition on the front cover!). I did wish that more of their examples drew from smaller churches, but I recognize the difficulty of getting accurate data there. I wondered, too, if there wasn't too much emphasis on "seamless" transitions: a succession should hopefully be smooth, yes, but isn't there a potential idol to be dealt with in wanting it to show no seams, no visible places of continuity (or healthy discontinuity!) at all? That said, there's a great deal of wisdom in this book, including the "Next Steps" at the end of each chapter -- many of which will offer helpful challenges to anyone with a role to play in their church's next pastoral succession.
Next: Pastoral Succession That Works, by William Vanderbloemen and Warren Bird (Baker, 2014).
From its first words -- "Every pastor is an interim pastor" -- to its diverse potential audience, there's much to commend about Next. The authors have clearly done their homework concerning the challenges of transitioning from one pastor to the next; in fact, it's their work with pastors and churches whose transitions didn't work well (and many others that did) that drives their concern. Whether the reader is a newly appointed pastor, one approaching retirement or a move to another post, or a new or longtime church board member, there are lessons worth remembering here. The authors are also aware that many of their readers will find themselves in more than one of the above roles over the course of their ministerial lives -- which makes this as valuable as a later reference text as it is for a first-time reading.
Vanderbloemen and Bird wisely note that there's no single formula for a successful succession from one pastor to the next, but they aren't afraid to name names in recounting disastrous transitions, either (nor to protect anonymity, when necessary); and to their credit, even as they gather lessons from such disasters, they're careful not to make too much of the scandal involved, but to call their readers toward greater expressions of grace. They also explore the close interconnections of pastoral vocation, church mission, and personal identity, which (when undervalued) can make pastoral succession such a sensitive issue. And as the spouse of a pastor just entering her second year of ministry at our church, I appreciate that at least some of their stories involve female pastors (notwithstanding the males shown in transition on the front cover!). I did wish that more of their examples drew from smaller churches, but I recognize the difficulty of getting accurate data there. I wondered, too, if there wasn't too much emphasis on "seamless" transitions: a succession should hopefully be smooth, yes, but isn't there a potential idol to be dealt with in wanting it to show no seams, no visible places of continuity (or healthy discontinuity!) at all? That said, there's a great deal of wisdom in this book, including the "Next Steps" at the end of each chapter -- many of which will offer helpful challenges to anyone with a role to play in their church's next pastoral succession.
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