Meghan O’Gieblyn writes in collection of essays not as a journalist documenting the remnants of Christian culture, but as one who is a translator of a foreign land for wide-eyed secular observers.
In her debut novel, Heartland, Sarah Smarsh recalls growing up as the daughter of a fifth-generation Kansas wheat farmer; in telling her story, she tells the stories of her parents and grandparents as well.
Jonathan Merritt, in his new book, sets out to learn how to speak about his faith in new ways in order to articulate the central ideas so that non-Christians can understand.
For Lake, literature is not simply illustrative or instrumental to the task of diagnosing and combatting technocracy: it is the world within which we are cultivated. In the act of reading, we enter not only a set of illustrations which give us principles to live by, but also new parables which instruct, perplex, and guide us into new living. To learn how to be a new person, in other words, we must submit to the art of reading.
Collin Hansen’s describes the popular resurgence of Calvinist doctrine in the first decade of the twentieth century in three words: young, restless, and Reformed.
For a tradition that preaches of a Redemption that follows the Fall, I have encountered an uncanny amount of pro-death penalty sentiments in Reformed circles. I found myself waffling back and forth, wading through the pros and cons of death penalties vs. life sentences for many years.