Cara Wall writes beautifully about something novelists rarely address: a mainline Protestant congregation.
Vincent van Gogh, Still Life With French Novels and Rose, oil on canvas, 1887.
The incarnation doesn’t require a miracle; it reveals one that’s already there.
Yearning for the impossible, glimpsing the unimaginable
I never thought that in 2019 a book on antisemitism in America would be vital reading.
Lenny Duncan’s letter is full of hope and fury, love and lament—like Paul’s epistles.
One note fills the whole space. Then we add another—and a third.
Patrick deWitt is far too smart a writer to offer a sentimental narrative of redemption.
Daniel Hawk avoids easy responses to violence in the Bible—but then enters some troubling territory.
Confined by illness, the feminist literary scholar dove into the complete works of V.S. Naipaul and Paul Theroux.
Our language isn’t neutral. It has history embedded within it.
His narrative includes heroes and villains on both sides of the political divide.
Poetry and fiction grant us glimpses of God.
Evoking the murders of unarmed black men, this collection is meant to appall us.
The roots of our desire for money, pleasure, and power reach back to the Enlightenment.
Pagels vividly recounts her spiritual experiences. But she won’t let herself be bound by any tradition.