“Is this a safe neighborhood?” It’s a question Maggie and I can expect to hear when friends from out of town visit our home in Hyde Park, a neighborhood on the South Side of Chicago. In fact, our neighborhood is quite safe. The nearby presence of the University of Chicago ensures the streets in our neighborhood are regularly and obviously policed. Our son plays in the park across the street and we walk for groceries and other errands at all hours of the day or night.
Despite the safety of our specific neighborhood, the question is not surprising. Gun violence and murder is well-known in our city; the news from the south and west sides of Chicago is grimly portrayed on a nightly basis. Last month the young Hadiya Pendleton was shot and killed in a park one block from where our church gathers for Sunday worship.
Talking about this violence can seem futile: conversation does little to honor the dead and wounded nor are most of us interested in the long, complicated discussion about the systemic and historic causes for the bloodshed. It’s easier to turn away or propose simplistic solutions.
It was refreshing then, to listen to This American Life’s two-part series (part 1 & part 2) on gun violence in Chicago. For five months reporters – including the legendary Alex Kotlowitz – spent time in one high school that has experienced far more than its share of death. The perspectives from administrators, students, parents, teachers, and support staff go a long way toward a more nuanced and humble conversation. Their stories invite the rest of us to pay close attention.
I don’t read enough fiction – and this book is historical non-fiction – but the The Warmth of Other Suns was the narrative I most enjoyed this year. Wilkerson is masterful at taking the bits of history to tell a story that is so important to the demographic and cultural texture of America today. Important, yes- but the history told in these pages is regularly overlooked. By showcasing three individuals who made the trip north or west from the Jim Crow South, Wilkerson brings into focus the massive migration of African Americans that has shaped the country we know today. Our church is situated in a neighborhood with deep ties to the stories in this book so I found it especially interesting. (One of the three characters the author follows is Ida Mae Brandon Gladney who moves from Mississippi to the South Side of Chicago.) Ultimately though, The Warmth of Other Suns is an American story, one told exceedingly well by Wilkerson.
Jacques Ellul has been a footnote author for me over the past decade: an author who is regularly cited in appreciated books. Regularly enough that at some point the footnote must be traced back to the original source. Ellul was a French sociologist, philosopher, and professor of law who is known for his writings on technology, among many other topics. He was also a Christian whose theological work – in my cursory observation – is either seen as increasingly relevant in our technological age or anachronistic. I lean toward the former. In this book Ellul gives us his Biblical reading of the city: its origins, symbolism, role in redemptive history, and location for Christian witness today. Some see Ellul as a pessimist whose view of the city leaves no room for positive change or reform. I suppose there is some truth to this but I read him differently. The vision found in The Meaning of the City is one that allows Christians to bear witness to Christ regardless of perceived reform. For the growing number of young, Evangelical-ish Christians who see the city as the place to change the world (for God), Ellul provides a necessary corrective. We witness to Christ in the city because of God’s love for the city and we continue to do so whether or not things turn out as we hope because, ultimately, we are simply called to bear witness. The One with the power to change operates outside our time and plans and one day His heavenly city will replace all that continues to plague the residents of earthly cities.
I recommended this book more than any other this year. Desiring the Kingdom is the first book of a planned three-part series and the second book is the only book I’ve ever pre-ordered. James K. A. Smith is a professor of philosophy and theology at Calvin College and, as the book reveals, an astute observer of American cultural practices and artifacts. The book opens with a description of a typical American mall from the perspective of an alien who believes this massive edifice and those coming and going from its doors must form some sort of religious center. Smith shows how humans are primarily desiring beings. We do what we love rather than what we think or even believe. Others have made this point and Smith’s important contribution is in showing how these desires are formed within us. Liturgy is an important concept in this formation and the author shows the cultural liturgies that compete with those observed by congregations. These are liturgies with radically different ends, liturgies that aim to form distinct desires among their practitioners. For a long time I’ve thought about the occasional dissonance between a congregation’s spoken theology and the accepted practices (liturgies) that hinder the implementation of this theology and Smith has given me additional tools to think carefully about this unfortunate tendency. There are questions I have after reading this book – Is a congregation’s liturgy limited to a worship service? – that I hope Smith will address in the next two books. But those questions are mostly evidence of just how convincing I find Smith’s thesis and how helpful.
I read a few different memoirs this year and Roger Ebert’s was by far the most enjoyable. I remember watching Siskel and Ebert’s movie reviews during high school- I didn’t watch very many movie’s then but was still fascinated by these two witty critics who made a living… watching movies? (Check out 
I said more about this book on the blog than any other this year. My friend Richard and I 
David W. Swanson 