Diana Butler Bass on Grounded

In Chattanooga, I walk with steady steps over a pedestrian bridge that stretches over the Tennessee River, listening to the soft souls of my shoes keeping a rhythm against the worn wood. As my Instagram account can attest, almost every day, as long as my travel schedule allows, I’m drawn to river’s rich beauty and horrifying history.

Aware of the lynchings, the Trail of Tears, and the freed person encampments, I listen for those voices in the past and my soul longs to make amends with them. I look at the river, which the city has been working to restore from their polluted state. Then I take comfort in how the sun dances on the waters, rocky ledges burst from the river’s edge, and distant mountains roll. The landscape nourishes me, though I didn’t know precisely why or how before I read Diana Butler Bass’s Grounded.

Unlike some of her past work, where Diana stands on the mountain, giving us a broad overview of spirituality in our current landscape, this intriguing and beautiful book invites us to participate deeply in God’s work from the ground level. We stand beside her as she plays in the soil and walks along glistening rivers. We continue the conversation with her as she moves into the science of stewardship and the theology of presence. “I didn’t want to write a book about spirituality. I wanted to write an invitation to spirituality,” Diana said, “I wanted to show, not tell.”