Book Review: "The New Christians" by Tony Jones
I won a free copy of Tony Jones’ fancy new book, “The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent Frontier” a few weeks ago from Adam, and since Jones’ publicist sent the free copy all the way to Scotland, I figured it deserves a nice long post. (Actually, I won it in a contest at pomomusings, so many thanks to Adam and his blog that gets so many more hits than mine.)
I’ll begin with what has been noted by most reviewers: if you want to read one book on the emergent church, The New Christians is by far the best value for your time and money. No doubt about it: TNC is worth reading.
I most appreciated the description in the early chapters explaining how the emergent church movement developed. Quick summary: some top-notch post-modern evangelical types became uncomfortable with the direction the evangelical leadership was heading and happened upon a church movement that dovetailed with the post-modernism they lived and breathed, and the connectivity and community provided by the internet (you could also say the Holy Spirit helped out, but Jones does take a more academic approach).
Though I’ve been quite aware of emergent the past few years, I didn’t know the full story behind the beginning and was fascinated–probably my favorite part of the book. I knew emergent had evangelical roots, but I didn’t know that some of their first brainstorming sessions were funded by evangelical groups, who, later by the way, pulled the money quick.
Jones’ goes on to describe the ethos, theology, and practicality of the movement in the remaining chapters. He keeps things very approachable for non-churchy folk, or for church folk who are not familiar with discussions of post-modernity. Interlacing the entire work with stories of people touched by emergent, and with “dispatches from the trenches” meant to describe particular characteristics of the emergent church, Jones covers a lot of ground in his 220 pages. You can tell he’s a pastor, in that he’s a good communicator and addresses his intended audience well.
Before I get to my critique, here’s some of the dispatches:
Dispatch 1: Emergents find little importance in the differences between various flavors of Christianity. Instead, they practice a generous orthodoxy that appreciates the contributions of all Christian movements.
Dispatch 6: Emergents see God’s activity in all aspects of culture and reject the sacred-secular divide.
Dispatch 8: Emergents find the biblical call to community more compelling than the democratic call to individual rights. The challenge lies in being faithful to both ideals.
Dispatch 11: Emergents believe that awareness of our relative position–to God, to one another, and to history–breeds biblical humility, not relativistic apathy.
Dispatch 16: Emergents believe that church should function more like an open-source network and less like a hierarchy.
Dispatch 18: Emergents firmly hold that God’s Spirit–not their own efforts–is responsible for the good in the world. The human task is to cooperate with God in what God is already doing.
Dispatch 19: Emergents downplay–or downright reject–the difference between clergy and laity.
Jones pops these dispatches in throughout the work, and they work well as talking points or pointed descriptors of emergent.
Critique:
Here’s my main critique, and where I think Jones could have done a bit more. Because of the context of emergent’s emerging–namely, the mainly American Evangelical church movement–Jones seems to focus on distinguishing emergent from evangelical Christianity, he discusses conversations and battles between emergent and evangelicalism with little discussion of emergent and mainline denominations.
Sure, mainline talk sometimes comes up–e.g. at the end of the book, Jones describes his visits to four emergent churches, one of them being Church of the Apostles in Seattle which has Lutheran and Episcopal connections.
But what I kept yearning for–and writing in the margins, again and again–is the acknowledgment and analysis of the fact that basically every single dispatch describing the emergent church applies to my liberal mainline fairly traditional church founded in 1832. Ok, Jones can’t speak to my particular context of Old First Church Tallahassee. And sure, not every dispatch fits perfectly–not many people on the congregational care committee would describe it as “open-source” or “wiki” (though it certainly has many of the characteristics)–but I felt like Jones was leaning his writing too much in the direction of evangelicals to the detriment of mainline conversation.
This problem jumps out at you in the public relations write-up that came with my copy. The PR person says TNC explores emergent, and that “It’s a total re-examination of the gospel that has resulted in a mash-up of old and new, of theory and practice, and of mainline, evangelical, and increasingly, Roman Catholic Christians.” Come again: “total re-examination of the gospel”? Say what? If almost every member of my mainline congregation would affirm every dispatch from the trenches–or further–if almost every member of my mainline congregation could read a re-worded dispatch and think it was written about my congregation, then the “total re-examination” description is lacking something.
Emergent is not quite a “total re-examination of the gospel,” it’s a re-examination of the gospel out of one flavor of Christianity, and it has taken on many characteristics of other flavors of Christianity.
I don’t want to be too hard on Jones. He’s a great guy, a fine theologian, a strong blogger, a twin cities man, and has written a fantastic book. But I feel like he skews too much towards the evangelical conversation to the detriment of a deeper and a bit more complicated conversation with both the evangelical and mainline.
Here’s a few other ponderings the book brought up:
- The emergent community tends to be pretty darn young, as Jones notes. Why? What happens in twenty years? And why aren’t emergent churches which thrive in diversity seeking to broaden the conversation to older generations?
- I loved Jones’ description of the problem of fideism of the right (Piper) and the left (Borg) and the call for dialogue and faith in between. [p. 154-5]
- Jones’ format is really well done–it’s in six chapters, but has several threads that run through and color each chapter, as well as the dispatches mixed-in. He makes a linear and logical progression from page 1 to 220, but there’s helpful and non-disrupting stops along the way that add depth and breadth to the work. Either his editor or Jones did very well.
- Love what a member of Jacob’s Well says of his community, “I like it when Tim says, ‘People experience God emotionally, intellectually, relationally, and aesthetically,’ and this church aims to make every one of those experiences available to people.”
- My final question relates to my main critique above. It’s a bit contextual, but here it is: Is St. John’s Lutheran Church in Atlanta emergent? It’s a bit older than most emergent, but it’s fairly hip. It’s all about emergent’s inclusivism, call for community, problems with hiearchy (tends to happen when the denomination says your pastor isn’t your pastor), worship is innovative and free, and it’s all about the dispatches. Can a church be emergent without knowing it, or trying to be. Does emergent have to stem from this evangelical break-up, or can it include an even broader community?
Thoughts?
Review: "The Border Trilogy" by Cormac McCarthy
Though I listened to Cormac McCarthy’s book No Country for Old Men on tape, the first book of his I actually read was a post-Christmas copy of The Road. Loved it. A whole lot. Not only is the writing just phenomenal, the story still haunts me. It’s about love between a father and a son, about survival, about masculinity, about decency in the midst of despair, about climate change, and most of all, about hope. But this is a review of The Border Trilogy, which I enjoyed, but was no The Road.
The BT is made up of three novels–All the Pretty Horses, The Crossing, and Cities of the Plain–the first two with different protagonists, and the third with them living and working together. As one work, all 1,037 pages of one, it’s pretty compelling. If you like Richard Ford, heady (and heavy) Westerns, David James Duncan, or just darn good stories that you can sink your teeth into, you’ll probably like the trilogy. McCarthy writes with enormous depth and clearly has a keen eye for detail. The story follows young adult cowboys of, um, say the 1950s and their adventures growing up. Complete with horses, gun fights, falling in love with the campaneros daughter, whiskey, bar fights, thousands of miles on the trail, and prostitutes of course, the story is explores how one finds himself (McCarthy seems to specialize in men) in a changing world. The BT is sort of Brokeback Mountain set in the south, and drawn out 100 times more. Have a 1000 page hole in your soul? This should do the trick.
P.S. If you can, do purchase the book at your local independent bookstore like Little Shop of Stories.
Page 50, here I come
I have a long list of books I’d like to read. Unfortunately, the one I’m currently reading is proving less than impressive. Looking back, I should have known this before I bought it because it has three tell-tale signs of sketchy books.
1) Bullets. Flipping through I now see lists and lists of bullets; several per chapter. How did I miss this before?! Bullets work for political talking points, perhaps, or for giving quick and varied support for an issue that must be argued quickly, but bullets in a professional book are a bad sign. Bullets say, “I didn’t take the time to fully think this through, but here it is anyway.” Or, “I can’t really support my argument, but here it is one measly sentence.”
2) No footnotes. Sure, footnotes can be cumbersome (though always better than endnotes). But a professional book on religion, theology, and pastoral care should have footnotes. Where are your ideas coming from? Where can I go for more information? Lack of footnotes also signals lack of an editor. I don’t understand how the author of the book I’m currently reading gets away with quoting another author or work without giving a full citation. “John Doe says in her book, ________” without a footnotes, is neither scholarly nor acceptable.
3) Quote chunks. On every few pages of the book I find huge chunks, several paragraphs, taken from somebody else’s work. It feels like the author just googled then copy and pasted into his book and called it good–and didn’t even footnote! Writing a new book means presenting a new argument, supported by others’ work certainly, but not simply a bringing-together of strong paragraphs from better books. Ridiculous.
Why am I still reading the book, if it’s so bad? I’m not quite sure. I have a rule that if I don’t like a book after 50 pages I don’t have to finish it (books for class excepted, of course). There are too many good books in the world to waste one’s time with the bad. I’ve only gotten to page 41 of my current blunder. Page 50, here I come.
photo by hisks
Reading Lolita in Woolworths

Woolworths, a huge retail franchise in the UK recently pulled a product: the Lolita bed for young girls. Here’s the article: Staff at Woolworths baffled by fuss over the little girl’s bed called Lolita.
For those less book-inclined, Lolita is the eponymous title of Vladimir Nabokov’s 1955 novel describing the sexual obsession of a step-father with his 12 year-old step-daughter. “Lolita” has since become a sort of code-name for a child who is attractive to pedophiles. So, it doesn’t take a marketing genius to deduce: Lolita is perhaps the world’s worst name for a child’s bed.
How about naming sleeping pills “Kevorkian,” ballot-counting machines “Florida specials,” or supposedly good computers “PCs.”
So now that the press is on the story, there’s TV specials on the surge of age-inappropriate products (I do think the kid pole dancing kit crossed the line) and opinion columnists are weighing in. Here’s my reflections of a different sort.
1) Can we expect business and marketing majors to know literature? I majored in English at a strong liberal arts college, but didn’t read Lolita until last year (admittedly, I knew of the novel for years). I’m going to make a guess here, but aren’t major retailers employing folks with marketing, business, or finance-related degrees who would have had few if any university English courses? If ever there was a day when businesswomen and men could be expected to have read all the classics, that day is past.
2) I have no idea how big companies work, but shouldn’t there be someone in an office somewhere making sure these things don’t happen? Call the position the Cultured Commonsense Coordinator. That person would compile lists of bad product names–like Lolita–and kill offensive products before they go to market and embarrass the company. With the internet, this would not be a difficult job.
3) The Times reported the good folks at Woolworths had to look “Lolita” up on Wikipedia before they understood the firestorm of protests and boycotts. Perhaps more interesting, however, is that the biggest organized protest began on a blog. The web has empowered the modern consumer in ways unthinkable twenty years ago. Consider this post by a theology post-grad. It’s a blog post, but it’s huge free advertising for the products he’s sharing–speaking of, I’d love his camera wrap. Companies who aren’t up to speed on the Web 2.0 world will be left behind.
Yep, Woolworths made a hugely embarrassing mistake. Perhaps they should next consider a new line of products supporting reading. Call them, maybe, books.
Book blogging fun
I was recently tagged in a book post–a sort of friendly blogging pyramid scheme. Since I was going to post on Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” soon anyways, and since it’s my day off, I’ll humor Adam and play his little game.
1. One book that changed your life
St. Olaf’s Professor Ann Groton, when announcing any upcoming event in my great books course always said at the end of each announcement, “And it will change your life.” Some books bring about unremarkable negative changes. Others, like McCarthy’s “The Road” stay with you for years after you finish, noticeably changing one’s life for the better.
This is not to say “The Road” is uplifting. It’s a haunting horrid tale of humanity in its primal state, but the writing is brilliant, the story-telling unmatched, the pure experience of reading is a sick joy.
2. One book you’ve read more than once
I rarely do so, but exceptions would be books read for class like Paul Tillich’s “Dynamics of Faith.” After the third time, I still didn’t understand the book, but still highly recommend it.
3. One book you’d want on a desert island
Adam says the cliche answers are the Bible and The Complete Works of Shakespeare. I agree. I’d definitely want something long. Say: “The Brother’s Karamozov” by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Clean fun with bicarb
So I’m a bit busy with my oh-so-exciting life these days–funerals, sermons, meetings, etc.–and don’t have time to post anything brilliant (next week though, look out).

Here’s a few more fantastic facts from my bicarb book (for history, see here)
Some people think this book is nerdy, or strange, or silly. But I think it’s probably the best book ever written. What else can you say of the brilliant creativity of the subtitle: “A Very Versatile Natural Substance.” Oh that just says it all.
So now time for some fun facts:
The chemical formula for what cool people call “bicarb” is NaHCO3. It also goes by the guises:
sodium bicarbonate
saleratus
baking soda
bread soda
sodium hydrogen carbonate
the white powdery stuff (that’s mine)
For those of you whose weekend includes more exciting activities than sermon writing, here’s some ways to take up your time. And remember, bicarb fun facts are the life of any party.
- run bicarb and water through your coffee maker will “give it a good clean and refresh it” (since your coffee maker needed refreshment)
- clean your silver with three tablespoons of bicarb to one of warm water
- rinse your silk underwear (what?!) in a mild solution of bicarb “every ten washes or so” (must one count)
- instead of using salt to melt snow and ice, try bicarb which will not harm plants
- use bicarb to test for acidity of soil. How you say? If the soil bubbles when bicarb is added, it is too acidic. Duh.
Reading, writing, ruminating
I’m a little bogged down this week with a cold, four sermons (one Wednesday, two Sunday, funeral Friday), a few meetings and the like, but I did manage to get a golf game in this morning which was just the respite I needed–even if I played horribly.
Strangely, though, my most busy week also has me finished two books I’ve been reading.
I wasn’t overly impressed with Cloud Atlas. I could tell Mitchell almost wrote an amazing book, and that he has great writing skills and is a good story teller and all that, but I never bought it. I felt too much that Mitchell was showing off–like a good preacher who thinks, “watch me wow you with my preaching” rather than simply preaches the gospel.
For a change of genres, John Pritchard’s The Life and Work of a Priest was most enjoyable. Writing as the Bishop of Oxford (Anglican), Pritchard reflects on the duties of a priest in contemporary England. The hopeful account of the task of priests does acknowledge the contextual
challenges of British church. For example:
- 20% of the UK population regularly or irregularly attend church
- 40% have had don’t attend but have had some church contact at some point in their lives
- 40% have had virtually no contact with the church
I’ll probably post more on Prichard’s description of a priest later, but overall I find his vision somehow realistic, doomed, and hopeful the same time. He’s aware of the church’s decline yet it doesn’t move him to attempt to reinvent the wheel. He’s aware of the emerging conversation, sees value in it, but views it very much from a traditional perspective in which change occurs slowly, thoughtfully, carefully. He sees churches closing, but he doesn’t freak out because he also sees faithful work continuing.
I’ll close with a spiffy quote:
“…to that extent a clergy leader is a liminal figure, living in the borderland between the Church and the world, the present and the future, inherited church and emerging church” (p. 103).





