June 16, 2010, 7:51 pm
I confess. I had high hopes for Saving Paradise: How Christianity Traded Love of this World for Crucifixion and Empire by Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker (c2008, Beacon Press). It appeared to be just my cup of tea, or shall we say dose of religion & art. But two months later, I have had to abandon my quest. I have read at least 4 books in the time that I consumed about 100 pages of Saving Paradise… not an impressive show for my effort.
Some of the things that defeated me are, I admit, fairly quirky. I enjoy a book that feels good in my arthritic hands. If it is too heavy or awkwardly-shaped, it discourages me. At nearly 600 pages in an approximately 6” x 9” format, the book is by no means small. But I have, in the past, overcome that obstacle if I have had sufficient motivation. Unfortunately authors Brock and Parker stifled the significant motivation that I had to consume their book. The problem is that they destroyed my enthusiasm with minutiae. One-hundred pages into the tome, I determined that the authors couldn’t bear to edit out of their treatise one morsel of their painfully-researched material. I suspect that that weakness will doom it to the dusty shelves of academic libraries or seminary bibliographies. It’s a pity, because I wanted to be with them through this interesting journey. But I can’t give it the attention the authors would like me to give… not now, maybe sometime. I will let you know if I blow the dust off of it and try again.
June 2, 2010, 3:22 pm
Rarely have I willingly read a book that describes the intricacies of war
and the strategies or horrors of battle. On the other hand, I love books on history, religion and art, devouring them with great joy. The Saint and the Sultan: The Crusades, Islam and Francis of Assisi’s Mission of Peace by Paul Moses combines two polar extremes of my affections in a remarkably engaging volume. The author’s point is well rendered; that is, that though St Francis is universally respected as one of the premiere figures of Christendom, his aversion to war and hunger for peace is often overlooked. In the medieval world enamored of chivalry and honor, Francis had his fill at a young age and chose a life of humility, poverty and obedience that drew ridicule and alienation. Eventually gaining the respect and sanction of the pope, the future saint was honor bound to support him.
And yet, Francis chose to seek a peaceful alternative to the Fifth Crusade, directly defying the aspirations of the Innocent III and his successor. The monk’s mission to Egypt was a journey of conscience. In this book, the dominant characters and their motivations come alive with well-chosen contemporary quotes from biographers, correspondence and slanderous propaganda. Most importantly, the author, whose professional background is in journalism, adeptly reminds us that little has changed 800 years later. Religious extremism and underlying motivations of greed and power remain commanding obstacles to peacemaking today. Scholarly but approachable, The Saint and the Sultan offers a rich story and moral dilemmas to ponder after the pages are closed.