Sermon: Group Project

Lectionary: Proper 25(C)
Text: Luke 18:9-14

Pharisee and the Publican
Millais, John Everett, 1829-1896

Over the past several months, we have considered several parables. In those examinations I have suggested that the traditional interpretations, while not necessarily wrong, are often inadequate. I have explained that the point of parables is to provoke thought and to cause discomfort regarding traditional ways of thinking and living. I have explained that what we hear from the parables is colored by our culture and traditions, which are quite different from that of the original audience, and as a result heard things quite differently. I have also pointed out that many parables have a starting frame that is added by the editor which has the effect of guiding the reading and interpretation down one path while discouraging others, and that interpretations are often added as a closing frame to further restrict interpretation.

These observations also apply to today’s parable. Luke, or the gospel account’s editor, adds commentary in verses 9 and 14 as opening and closing frames to guide the reading and interpretation of the enclosed parable. Consequently the traditional reading and interpretation of this parable rarely deviates from the supplied editorial framework.

In the dozen or so commentaries I glanced through during preparation, nearly all followed the same interpretation. In this interpretation the Pharisee is turned into a villain and the tax collector into the hero. The Pharisee is interpreted as exhibiting arrogance, pride and hypocrisy, whereas the tax collector shows humility and acknowledges his shortcomings. Not all, but many interpretations suggest that ritual purity was involved in some way within the parable. And some interpretations suggest that the Temple and its religious structures, to which the Pharisee was allegedly a part, was itself part of the problem which the parable speaks out against.

Keeping the above in mind, let’s revisit today’s reading and the parable contained within to see if we can discover anything different.[1]

The frame or the bookends read as follows:

⁹ He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt… ¹⁴ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other, for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Luke 18:9, 14 NRSVue)

From this we can see how the parable ends up vilifying the Pharisee and speaking out against his prayer. After all, who are the ones who trust in themselves that they are righteous and regard others with contempt? Who is the one who exalts themselves? Clearly, it must be the Pharisee.

But wait. Is the audience of this parable the Pharisees or any of the privileged among the Jews? If we go back over the preceding couple of chapters of Luke, it becomes clear Jesus is addressing his disciples. The “some” that Jesus is speaking to then, the “some who trusted in themselves,” are the disciples, not the Pharisees.

We will revisit verse 14 toward the end of today’s sermon with a suggested alternate translation of a small word, but which changes the meaning of the entire parable.

But we continue on.

¹⁰ “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. (Luke 18:10)

This introduces the setting and characters. Christians have been handed down a tradition where we tend to regard the Jewish temple and Pharisees as corrupt and evil. The disciples, the audience, would not have seen them in that light. They saw the temple as a place where they could approach their holy God, where they could offer their prayers and sacrifices, and be restored to right relationship with God and with fellow human beings. They saw Pharisees, not as power hungry hypocrites, but leaders who genuinely wanted their people and nation to follow God’s commands. Pharisees were respected.

Many of the negative views of the temple and Pharisees which Christians hold today can be traced to anti-Jewish sentiments developed through two millennia of Christian history. Many of the seeds of these negative views, when examined closely, have no basis in history. This is something that we need to be acutely aware of, confess, and repent.

¹¹ The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ¹² I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ (Luke 18:11-12)

We hear this and object to its tone. We jump to the conclusion that because of this the Pharisee must be self-righteous and prideful. However, there are several things we should note about this prayer. First is that in ancient times, people did not pray or read silently. Praying and reading only in one’s mind was something the ancient people did not even consider as possible. The prayer of the Pharisee may have been expressing what today would be only thoughts directed silently. Secondly, do we ever say or think, “There but for the grace go I?” The Pharisee’s prayer is akin to that saying.

A third point to note is that in the ancient Near East boasting was not frowned upon but was expected. A key example in the New Testament is of the Apostle Paul who boasts about his credentials as both a Pharisee and an Apostle. Among other things, to the Philippians, he wrote, “… as to righteousness under the law, blameless.” (Philippians 3:6b)

In Deuteronomy 26, Moses instructs the Israelites that when they offer prayers of thanksgiving that they are to thank God that they are Israelites, and to enumerate the ways in which they have been faithful in following the law. The Pharisee’s prayer is like that. He is expressing gratitude for who he is. Therefore, to fault the prayer as expressing pride is to miss the point. In listing some of the other people categories, the Pharisee is giving thanks to God that he has been given the opportunity to be more faithful to God than they.

However, there is a problem with the Pharisee’s prayer, and that is when he prays, “… or even like this tax collector.” Here he turns from gratitude to judgment. He lists the ways in which he could be seen as super-righteous (or supererogatory to use a fancy term for “going beyond”). He goes beyond what is required by the law by fasting more and giving tithes of everything, even those things that were normally considered small enough that tithing was not required. Surely, if righteousness was the basis of merit, he had it far over the tax collector.

Tax collectors were agents of Rome and therefore considered traitors. Traditional Christian view of tax collectors is that due to their occupation they were perhaps considered ritually unclean. However, note that he is in the temple grounds, meaning that introducing ritual purity is not appropriate to the interpretation of this parable.

If the parable was a melodrama, the audience would be booing and hissing at this point.

¹³ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ (Luke 18:13)

The audience of the parable would not have liked to hear the tax collector utter this prayer. They knew that God’s mercy did extend to the tax collector. They had to consider the possibility that the tax collector could be forgiven and made righteous. They had to consider that both the Pharisee and the tax collector could be equally righteous under God.

We now come to verse 14 which is traditionally translated something like,

¹⁴ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other, for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Luke 18:14)

Dr. Amy-Jill Levine, in Short Stories by Jesus, discusses how the phrase “rather than” is one of several possible translations, one that has been traditionally chosen to fit with the earlier verse 9.

She, however, suggests a different translation. She translates verse 14 as follows:

To you I say, descending to his house, this one is justified, alongside that one. Because everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.[2]

She also writes that when we accept the traditional interpretation where the Pharisee is vilified, we are tempted to say, “Thank you, God, that I am not like that Pharisee.” And when we say or think that, we have sprung a trap on ourselves. We have made ourselves the Pharisee.

In Western Christianity, and especially in American Christianity, justification and salvation are considered something granted to individuals. However, in ancient Jewish and in the earliest Christian communities, justification and salvation was bestowed to and through community. The Jews also believed that supererogatory acts of ancestors could trickle down into their descendants. Hence the Jews believed that the supererogatory faith of Abraham continued to offer benefits to them.

Lest we think that as an odd way of thinking about things, we Christians accept that the supererogatory faith of Jesus in his crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension grant justification and salvation to those who trust in that work of Jesus Christ.

When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we don’t pray “My Father… Give me my daily bread… Forgive my debts.” No, we pray “Our Father… Give us our daily bread… Forgive out debts.”

We are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. What one member does to hurt the community hurts all of us. What one member does to help and maintain the community blesses all of us. Together. Christianity and seeking God is not a solo project. It is a group project.

Dr. Levine, in the chapter where she discusses today’s parable offers an updated version that we might understand better.

The story of the tax collector’s ability to tap into the merit of the Pharisee and the encompassing, communal grace of the Temple system is the ancient version of the middle-school group project. This assignment, perhaps now more familiar through reality television, puts together, in classical terms, the smart one, the one who is good at art, the one who is able to provide provisions (e.g., coffee, donuts, Scotch), and the one who both literally and figuratively brings nothing to the table. Three do their fair share, and more, since they cover the fourth’s work as well. The project receives an excellent grade. The fourth, who may show up at the meetings with all sincerity but who contributes nothing, benefits from the work of others. In middle school, where I was the “smart one,” I found this system unfair. I was justified (I got the “A”), but alongside me, indeed because of me, so was the slacker.

My sense of justice then was too narrow, my sense of generosity too constrained, my sense of self-import too great. But that fourth person believed in the system; that fourth person, whom we dismissed as lazy, as stupid, or as unable to contribute, may well have done what he could. He may have felt himself unworthy; indeed, we three others may have signaled to him that we were disappointed he was assigned to our group. He trusted in us; he trusted in the system. Had we been more generous with him rather than resentful, we would have learned more as well.

And what if he didn’t care at all? What if he depended on us, even thought we were fools for doing his work for him? What we do is still worthwhile. We can afford to be generous. There are other systems of justice (e.g., test grades, a final judgment) in which his contributions or sins will be assessed.

We are all our brother’s, and sister’s, keeper, and living in a community is another form of group work. We all have something to contribute, even if what we give is the opportunity for someone else to provide us a benefit. If we take more seriously this necessary interrelationship, we might be more inclined to consider others, because our actions, whether for ill or for good, will impact them. And if our good deeds aid someone else, rather than begrudge them, why not celebrate all who are justified?

In the name of God who creates,

In the name of God who is always faithful,

And in the name of God who discomforts the comfortable, Amen.

Bibliography

Green, J. B. (1997). New International Commentary on the New Testament: The Gospel of Luke. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans.

Levine, A.-J. (2014). Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi. New York, NY: HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Levine, A.-J., & Brettler, M. Z. (2011, 2017). The Jewish Annotated New Testament, 2nd ed. Oxford, NY: Oxford University Press.

Richards, E. R., & James, R. (2020). Misreading Scripture with Individualist Eyes. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press.

Sievers, J., & Levin, A.-J. (2021). The Pharisees. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans.

 

 

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[1] I am indebted to Dr. Levin’s discussion of this parable in Short Stories by Jesus in putting together this sermon.

[2] (Levine, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi, 2014)

Sermon: Old vs. New Covenant

Lectionary: Year B, Lent 5
Text: Jeremiah 33:31-34

Old and New Testaments

The Christian Bible is commonly divided into two major sections: the Old and New Testaments. The word “testament” comes from the Latin testamentum meaning “a will” and in Christian usage can also be traced back to the Greek word diathēkē meaning “covenant.” Literally, then, the Christian Bible identifies the two parts as the Old and New Covenants.

That there are two things termed Old and New implies that there are two things that are somehow different. In Christianity, the change that happens in the new is the introduction of Jesus Christ. In some of the Christian circles I’ve been a part of and grew up in, the Old Covenant is frequently synonymous with the Covenant of Law, founded at the giving of the Hebrew Law at Sinai. The New Covenant is frequently identified as the Covenant of Grace which was initiated at Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection.

This notion of a covenant of law and a covenant of grace isn’t wrong but it is not a complete picture. And the traditional explanations of how law and grace are related to the covenants, at least how I’ve commonly understood them, may not be entirely accurate.

We heard the reading from Jeremiah 31:31-34 a few minutes ago. This is the longest continuous text in the Hebrew Scriptures that is found in the Christian Scripture (Hebrews 8:8-12). Individual verses and shorter phrases are also found scattered throughout the New Testament. The New Testament authors must have seen something in these ancient words from Jeremiah that resonated with their new experience in the light of Jesus.

Observations and Questions

As I read Jeremiah, I observed a few things.

First, the initiator of the old and new covenants is the same: it is God and this God does not change between the two.

Second, the content of the covenant is the same: it is still something about God’s instructions and God’s relationship with the other party to the covenant.

Third, the reason a new covenant is necessary is not because God changed or because the contents of the covenant changed, but because the people broke the first one.

The passage also raised some intriguing questions:

First, what then, changed between the old and the new covenants?

Second, if the new covenant, where the instructions are inside the people and written on their hearts, is better than the first covenant, why didn’t God do that from the beginning?

Third, if everyone supposedly knows God in their hearts then why all the contradictions about God and how do we decide what is right or wrong about our knowledge of God?

If I dealt with each of these points individually, we might be here for quite a long time. Rather, I think that by taking a step back and looking at the broader picture and context, I will be able to address multiple points simultaneously.

The Covenant at Sinai

The first stop we will make is at Sinai, with the Hebrews just coming out of Egypt with Moses as their leader and prophet. And then we will jump forward to how the author of the letter to the Hebrews, many years after Jesus left the earth, explains the significance of Jesus in the new covenant.

I think we are all familiar with the basic story of the giving of the Decalogue, the Ten Commandments, at Sinai. The Israelites, fresh out of Egypt, reach Sinai and there, God speaks the Commandments, and Moses receives a copy on tablets of stone. But that isn't the entire story. There are a few interesting details about this story in the book of Exodus that are relevant to this morning’s message.

Exodus 20:18-21 (CEB)

18 When all the people witnessed the thunder and lightning, the sound of the horn, and the mountain smoking, the people shook with fear and stood at a distance. 19 They said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we’ll listen. But don’t let God speak to us, or we’ll die.”

20 Moses said to the people, “Don’t be afraid, because God has come only to test you and to make sure you are always in awe of God so that you don’t sin.” 21 The people stood at a distance while Moses approached the thick darkness in which God was present.

Notice what just happened. God has spoken directly to the people, but they did not want God speaking directly with them. God first attempted to establish a direct relationship with all the people, but the people rejected it. Instead, they asked for a mediator to communicate to them on behalf of God. They asked Moses to be the intermediary, and Moses accepted the role.

A few chapters later in Exodus, another interesting narrative is found.

Exodus 24:1-3, 9-12

Covenant at Sinai
1 Then the Lord said to Moses, “Come up to the Lord, you and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of Israel’s elders, and worship from a distance. 2 Only Moses may come near to the Lord. The others shouldn’t come near, while the people shouldn’t come up with him at all.”

3 Moses came and told the people all the Lord’s words and all the case laws. All the people answered in unison, “Everything that the Lord has said we will do.” ...

Covenant meal with God
9 Then Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy elders of Israel went up, 10 and they saw Israel’s God. Under God’s feet there was what looked like a floor of lapis-lazuli tiles, dazzlingly pure like the sky. 11 God didn’t harm the Israelite leaders, though they looked at God, and they ate and drank.

12 The Lord said to Moses, “Come up to me on the mountain and wait there. I’ll give you the stone tablets with the instructions and the commandments that I’ve written in order to teach them.”

We see how Moses becomes the mediator, carrying messages from God to the people, and the people’s response back to God. We see God communicating to Moses and giving him instructions and commandments to take back to the people. We also see in these texts that Moses is the primary mediator, but there will be others who also are part of a system of carrying messages between God and the people. A system of religion and accompanying services and sacrifices was established to help mediate and God to the people. This was codified into a set of laws.

To summarize this first part then: God wanted a direct relationship with the people. The people rejected that arrangement. Moses became the mediator between God and people. God codified how mediators and mediation of God’s nature and will to the people would function. This is the Old Covenant. Yes, there is a strong presence of law, but the foundational reason for the covenant is God’s desire to have a relationship with humankind and love them, and for the people to respond back in love.

The rest of the Old Testament is a story about the failure of the people to live up to the covenant. Priests and prophets came and went. Some tried and were marginally successful, but none succeeded fully. Many were downright antithetical to God’s nature.

The New Covenant

Jump forward a millennium or so to the letter to the Hebrews in the New Testament.

Hebrews 1:1-4
The Son is God’s ultimate messenger

1 In the past, God spoke through the prophets to our ancestors in many times and many ways. 2 In these final days, though, he spoke to us through a Son. God made his Son the heir of everything and created the world through him. 3 The Son is the light of God’s glory and the imprint of God’s being. He maintains everything with his powerful message. After he carried out the cleansing of people from their sins, he sat down at the right side of the highest majesty. 4 And the Son became so much greater than the other messengers, such as angels, that he received a more important title than theirs.

Hebrews 9:15

Christ’s death and the new covenant

15 This is why he’s the mediator of a new covenant (which is a will): so that those who are called might receive the promise of the eternal inheritance on the basis of his death. His death occurred to set them free from the offenses committed under the first covenant.

The problem with the Old Covenant wasn’t the originator – God – or its contents – God’s desire to have a relationship with humankind. The problem with the Old Covenant was that all of its mediators were flawed. It was what the people wanted, but in a way, it was broken from its very inception. It was God accommodating the people’s desires, because God does not force his way. He allowed the people to try out their way until they were more ready to hear from God directly.

When that time came, God sent Jesus Christ to be the final and perfect mediator. Final and perfect because Jesus is God incarnate showing to the world who God is and what God is like. Jesus’ relationships with his family, friends, strangers, and even enemies is how God relates to people. Nothing more can be said or shown beyond what Jesus demonstrated.

The originator and content of the New Covenant are the same as the Old: God originates it and it is God’s invitation to us to be in fellowship and relationship with God.

So why is it often equated with or spoken of as the Covenant of Grace? It has to do with the very last part of Jeremiah’s passage: “I will forgive their wrongdoing and never again remember their sins.”

Forgiveness of sins is not for God’s benefit, but for ours. God’s love for us is not contingent on God’s forgiveness of us or on our confession or repentance.

But guilt is a powerful force. Perhaps one of the most powerful and destructive in terms of relationships. We need to know that God forgives. A God who initiates the offer of forgiveness, regardless of offenses committed, is a God of grace. Not only does God forgive, but God does not keep a record, an accounting, of sins. We don’t have to work our way to a certain level before God wants to have a relationship with us. Every single person stands on the same level with God, and God wants to be a positive part of every single person’s life. That is grace.

Was there no grace in the Old Covenant? There certainly was. The very preamble of the Ten Commandments shows God’s grace in initiating the deliverance of God’s people out of slavery. The very fact that God initiated a covenant shows that God’s grace remains the same throughout eternity.

The difference is Jesus, the only perfect mediator and revelation of God. When Jesus was lifted and crucified, he still offered forgiveness to those who mocked him, to those who tortured him, and to those who nailed him to the cross. There was no hint of anger or desire to seek revenge in Jesus’ words and actions on the cross. This is how God responds to sin. God’s grace, mercy, and forgiveness were fully demonstrated through Jesus at the cross. This is the vital lesson of the cross. This is what the body and blood of Jesus means.

When Jesus asks us to love our neighbors and enemies, to only seek to do good for others: that is the heart of the gospel. That is the heart of the covenant. Both old and new. The eternal covenant. 

Benediction

I close now with the benediction found at the closing of the letter to the Hebrews:

Hebrews 13:20-25

20 May the God of peace,
who brought back the great shepherd of the sheep,
our Lord Jesus,
from the dead by the blood of the eternal covenant,

21 equip you with every good thing to do his will,
by developing in us what pleases him through Jesus Christ.
To him be the glory forever and always. Amen. 

Grace and Truth is God’s Totality

Lectionary Christmas 2A

• John 1:1, 10-18

Pictured above is the last few verses of this week’s Lectionary Gospel reading.

The climax appears to be found at verse 17. The author is likely alluding to Moses’ experience on Sinai as described in Exodus 34. He contrasts the giving of the law with the coming of Jesus Christ. The law “given through Moses” implies a source, but the author chooses to omit it, giving this text a far more negative portrayal of the law than even Paul(!). Not only does law not bring salvation, it cannot even give a revelation of God. (This text could even be read that the law as given was ultimately Moses’ interpretation of God.) The way law and Jesus Christ are contrasted, the author seems to be communicating that the law, in fact, paints a picture of God that is utterly wrong.

What the author wants his readers to understand is that the only way to “see” God is through Jesus Christ. Jesus was and is with the Father – with the Father’s heart, even. This being, who is intimately familiar with the heart of the Father came to live with us.

What did the people who walked with Jesus discover? That the Father and Son share the same glory: “grace and truth.” That “grace and truth” is the “fullness,” or the totality, of who and what God is.

(The parenthetical statement from John the Baptist was likely added to argue against his followers and to counter Jewish traditions of authority figures.)

How might we apply this passage today? What strikes you as important? How do you see God?

Joseph, Jesus, Justice

Revised Common Lectionary, Advent Year 4A

• OT Text: Isaiah 7:10-16
• Gospel Text: Matthew 1:18-25

In this passage, Joseph is portrayed as one who exemplifies the kind of justice that Jesus will reveal about his Father’s.

I see a chiastic (ring-composition) structure in Matthew’s rhetoric. The outer envelope (1,9) mention “Jesus,” the center section (4-6) is concerned about names, and the very center (5) is the directive to Joseph to name the child “Jesus” and gives the meaning for this name.

This passage is not Matthew trying to “prove” the Virgin Birth. For Matthew he simply accepts it as true. Given the lack of scientific knowledge about childbirth and the numerous mythologies available about miraculous births and deities conceiving with humans, it probably wouldn’t have been too far-fetched for ancients to tacitly accept this as true, even if much suspicion remained about the “real” facts about how Mary conceived.

The real concern of Matthew in this passage is to show how Jesus could be a Son of David when he is clearly not biologically [1:1-17] a son of Joseph. (Traditionally Luke’s genealogy [3:23-38] has been said to be Mary’s through David’s son Nathan, but this view should not be accepted as hard fact.) Thus Matthew gives an expanded account of the genesis (translated as genealogy [v1]and birth [v18]) of Jesus. By the act of naming, Joseph makes Jesus a son according to the Law [Galatians 4:4].

This takes care of the genealogy and Matthew’s main concern, but we notice that in comparing envelope 3-7, the former is greatly expanded. We are invited to ask, “Why did Matthew feel compelled to expound upon Joseph’s thoughts and feelings?”

The word rendered as “considered” has a much more emotional connotation. We should read it as Joseph fuming and angry with the predicament he is facing. Part of it certainly has to do with what he perceives as Mary’s violation, whether of her volition or raped. His property has been violated; the betrothal contract (law) broken. But we also see his heart where he considers Mary as a person. Even though love was not a requirement for ancient Jewish marriages, I think it is right to read love in Joseph’s heart. Joseph wants to treat Mary compassionately and with mercy. But he is in a dilemma: the law says one thing and his heart says another. I read this as the main reason he is fuming. He cannot find an adequate way to resolve this dissonance.

For both Joseph and us, contracts and laws too often mediate relationships. Laws can certainly simplify relationships. Everything is spelled out in black and white.

I believe Jesus came to remove Law as
a mediator of relationships

Instead Jesus came to be “God with us.” No more mediator. We can speak with and fellowship with God directly. Paul, in Galatians 3:15-4:7, seems to be saying the same thing. Those who belong to Christ are no longer bound by law but are adopted into God’s family through grace.

What then of the angel’s explanation of the name “Jesus” as “he will save his people from their sins?”

Joseph had a distorted picture of God. He saw God pictured one way through the Torah, but his heart gave him a different picture. He couldn’t find a way to reconcile the two images. It is the same with people today. We get distorted pictures of God and our actions are influenced by the distortions. If we think God is controlling and abusive, we tend to become that way. If we think God is hateful, we think it is okay to hate. If we think God is vengeful and violent, well, we think that’s okay for us. If we think the Law defines God’s character, we become legalistic. And so on.

Wrong thinking about God is sin. Jesus came to deliver and save his people – us – from all the terrible portraits humans have painted of God. He came to show us that Law does not define him. In fact God is transcendent over the Law. The Law describes aspects of Him, but He is not a slave to it. Righteousness and justice (they’re essentially the same words) transcend the law (read Galatians again).

The angel told Joseph to break the law. Joseph was told that justice trumps law; that mercy and compassion always take priority over legal correctness. If love could be constrained by law, Jesus had no reason to become incarnate, “God with us.” But he came to show that relationships based on love are messy and unpredictable, that it cannot be codified by law.

Jesus came to save us from the
Sin of Law

Book Review: Pastrix, by Nadia Bolz-Weber

Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint by Nadia Bolz-Weber
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

For all who are tired of trying to measure up to and maintain "standards of Christianity," whether these standards are couched in terms of behaviors or beliefs, Nadia has a word for you: the grace of God allows you to stop striving for perfection.

For all who are feel broken and unwanted, Nadia has a word for you: the grace of God says you are a precious child of God.

In this book, through her own life of addictions, brokenness, and subsequent redemption and restoration, Nadia recounts the grace of God at work in her life. In numerous examples of people she has encountered and works with, she reveals that the power of grace cannot be overcome by evil.

The strong current running through all the chapters is grace and redemption. It is about a surprising grace, a grace that works mysteriously and unexpectedly, working beyond the fences that Christianity so often builds around herself.

These are stories of power and defiance. The gospel is not a message of passivity and niceness, but one that stands ground against evil, tragedy, and despair. The power of the gospel is the power the redeems and transforms the ugliness of the world into God's new creation. The power of the gospel is power that defies the powers of evil by holding on to the promises of redemption and restoration in the midst suffering.

This book is likely to be a challenging read to those who lean toward conservative theology and evangelicalism. It will be a challenge to anyone who considers the use of profanity (of which there are plenty in this book) to be "sin."

Nadia challenges Christians to stop pretending to be people they are not. She challenges Christians to be who they are, with all the faults and blemishes, because the power of God working in the problems of real lives is the gospel that will be heard by many who have tuned out "traditional church as usual."

(This review is based on an advance review copy supplied by the publisher through NetGalley.)

View all my reviews