First things first today -- you may have noticed that your comments don't automatically plaster the basement of our posts anymore. All comments now go into moderation when you post them, so the crack-like rush of getting your comment into the conversation is now delayed by what I am choosing to call, "a moment to think it over a bit." Now, I grant you: it means Dan and I get to think it over a bit more than you do, but in the interest of everyone's peace of mind we will still have comments -- they just won't explode onto the internet like a pumpkin falling off a truck at 85 MPH anymore.
I have not written a book. I wrote a Graduate Thesis on Wallace Stevens back at the end of the 1980's, but in spite of receiving a 4.0 grade and concluding my career as a professional student, that was only just under 100 pages. I have written something like the equivalent of 1500 pages blogging, but so what? Am I to repackage that like some sort of Mad Magazine annual? I would think less of you if you bought such a thing.
So while I have my complaints about what is able to be published these days, and my own regrets about what a useless peanut-roaster of a blogger I am, I have to admit that anyone who can sit down and gin up (more-or-less) 200 pages in one attempt for publication has to earn from me something which is a mix of bitter-and-sweet, respect-and-envy.
Reboot Christianity, and he has published a book called Rise of the Time Lords: A Geek's Guide to Christianity. It's available on Kindle and as a Paperback, and as you will expect from me, I'm not going to write you a book report about it. That sort of review can be found here or here. What I am going to do is to recommend you read this book for your own good just to get you out of the Reformed ghetto for a couple of hours one Saturday.
There are plenty of shortcomings to Michael's book. From my desk, while I enjoyed the analogy of Flatland to help us understand the great-than-nature-ness of God, I always worry how we try to make those sorts of analogies work with the Trinity. Will we gravitate to modalism rather than Trinitarianism as we discuss how God, infinite above creation, can be and is three persons and one essence. Michael's attempt to explain Free Will through Quantum Mechanics left me, um, blinded with science. But: in spite of the things I think a few readings of the WCF and the longer and shorter catechisms might have helped Michael avoid, there is something legitimately-gripping about this book which most books published about theology these days simply don't have.
What I like about Michael's book, in spite of its flaws, is that somehow in his exorbitantly-geeky delivery he demonstrates something bigger than his analogies. He speaks to something greater than creation -- and he does it in a way that works on people and what they already know. This book isn't any kind of poetry, and it isn't written to be more than the simple prose that it is. But it does something that good poetry usually does: it speaks past the metaphor and out of the truth which the author is trying to demonstrate.
If you read this book you will certainly see its theological flaws, and frankly its literary flaws. But you will find something that 99% of our reformed books can't seem to muster: a sense of real wonder and real curiosity about the God who saves us.
That's worth reading. When you're done, you can hold a study group to uncover all the anti-confessional statements Michael makes if that's what it takes to make you feel smart again -- but maybe what you need is not to feel so smart. Maybe you need to feel like you have no idea how this faith can actually be bigger on the inside, and to ponder that for a little while as if you just discovered it for the first time.