See Part 1, in which I actually review the book. Read on for Part 2, in which I go on for far too long about tangential issues related to Christian publishing, and eventually get around to some quotes from and commentary on the book.

I’m somewhat ambivalent about reviewing books on this site, because
a) book reviews are generally longer than you want a post to be when reading blogs
b) Amazon and other sites are more specialized for book reviews, so that’s probably where you’ll look
c) The author usually shows up and comments nowadays, so you can’t just rip a book apart like in the olden days of online anonymity and harshness
d) You have the potential to get a really high Google ranking for searches on the book’s title if it’s not a fantabulously popular book, with which power comes a certain responsibility to do a good review - a responsibility that bloggers such as myself are not accustomed to when posting

Nevertheless, I’ve had Matthew Paul Turner’s Provocative Faith on my table for several weeks now, having finished it but never done the review of the second half, which I promised. So here you go.

I am always a bit disappointed at what the publishing industry does to a good piece of writing: they turn it into a book. Sometimes it feels as if a book should stop after it’s made its best points, but you can’t sell a book with four chapters. It’s too long to be an article, and too short to be a full-on paperback.

All of Turner’s chapters are good, but I must say the later chapters lacked the punch that the earlier part of the book had for me. He is, again, dealing with the problem of writing about topics for which everything has been said. It’s hard to say something new and powerful about love, or following Jesus, or Christian community. The way forward, of course, is telling stories, at which Turner excels.

In Chapter 7, “Know Jesus; Know Him Well”, Turner describes an encounter with God that I can’t say I’ve experienced, but I must say I need to remain open to:

It’s rather hard to explain to the everyday person about the concept of God speaking. It wasn’t necessarily audible, but I heard it nonetheless. I ignored it at first. I thought it was me talking to myself. But then I heard it again.

“Worship me. Get down on your face and worship me.”

I had to respond. There wasn’t a choice. So I moved from the couch and sat in the middle of my living room floor and began to listen. And listening, for me, was a big step. Listening to that “still, small voice of God” is hard work for many people, but for me it’s sometimes darn near impossible.

But on that particular morning, I couldn’t help but respond to the presence of Jesus Christ. For the first time in my life, I heard Jesus speak.

I began worshipping him with song, prayer, silence, dance, and journaling. p. 113

Now, I’m as emergent as the next guy, and we tend to be cynical about a lot of charismatic-sounding stuff (unless it gives us a chance to quote St. Augustine), but Turner does not come across as hokey or overspiritualized at all. In fact, Turner’s refreshing honesty and vulnerability are clear throughout. The best possible outcome of writing like this is for the reader to desire the same kind of interaction with God, and that outcome was realized when I read and re-read this story.

In chapter 8, “love relentlessly,” Turner describes the point when he realized how we should see and treat those whose lifestyles are not up to what we perceive to be adequate standards:

“I know, I know, you’re right,” I replied. “I need to learn to love the sinner and hate the sin. I . . . ”

Dennis [a youthworker he was working with] stopped me. “That’s your problem,” he said, pointing his index finger at me with excitement and exclamation. “Why don’t you just concentrate on loving the sinner?”

Hmm. Just love the sinner, I thought. I had a million “buts” running through my head, but I remained quiet and let his words seep in. A feeling of embarassment washed over me that night. I felt humbled - too humbled to talk.

In the church today, we often spend too much time analyzing and judging the lifestyles of people rather than looking for ways to love them. p. 127

Through page after page of saying sensible things like this, Turner never comes across as compromising in any way. He takes his faith and his belief seriously, but without being a jerk about it. Cool.

In the concluding chapter, “your life isn’t yours,” Turner describes a woman who left her comforable life in America for a life of servanthood in the third world. Her faith is exemplary, but not unattainable for those of us who stay behind:

Engaging the world around us begins with the condition of our hearts. Just as our hearts determine whether we relearn how to love, whether we are content being last instead of first, and whether we live a lifestyle of joy, likewise our hearts navigate how our minds, hands, feet, and words will serve the communities around us.
…
You show me a person who is truly advancing the kingdom of God through his or her deeds, and I guarantee that individual has a heart fixated on knowing Jesus and helping people. p 178

OK, this is so long you have already stopped reading my review/blahg. But the bottom line is, this is a decent book that can be refreshing, especially if you’ve had your head in something emergenty like A Generous Orthodoxy or something heavy like Wright.

Again, Part 1 of the review is better, so read it if you want the skinny on the book. Turner has a blog, too, which you may be interested in, particularly if you keep up with Christian music (he does interviews for RELEVANT).