Review of Unapologetic: Why, Despite Everything, Christianity Can Still Make Surprising
Emotional Sense by Francis Spufford (HarperOne, 2013, $25.99, 240 pages)
Who will want to read this book? First, Christians
will be drawn to it but will also find plenty they may disagree with. And his
swearing will offend some.
Second, people who like to read good writing. Just
take a few minutes to read his brief critique of the message New Atheists have
put on British buses: “There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy
your life.” His beef is with the phrase “enjoy your life.” What follows is
prose that reads like a good novel.
Third, the curious. Whether or not you call yourself
a Christian, take note of that word in the subtitle: “Surprising.” You will
find something to surprise you, whether or not you agree with it.
While Spufford, who is an Anglican, claims not to
be presenting an intellectual defense, he does make reasonable arguments in an
attempt to clarify what Christianity is; he just tries to tie them to people’s
experience. For example, he notes that people may view believers as “people
touting a solution without a problem, and an embarrassing solution too, a really
damp-palmed, wide-smiling, can’t-dance solution.” Then he argues that “it’s
belief that involves the most uncompromising attention to the nature of things
of which you are capable.”
Another part of the subtitle he keeps to
throughout is “Emotional Sense.” While many claim that it is assent to the
propositions that makes you a believer, Spufford writes that “it is the
feelings that are primary. I assent to the ideas because I have the feelings; I
don’t have the feelings because I’ve assented to the ideas.”
Spufford develops his own terms as alternatives to
standard theological ones. For example, his second chapter is called “The Crack
in Everything,” in which he presents a way of addressing “sin” without using
that word, which tends to refer to “the pleasurable consumption of something,”
especially sex. He goes on to create a term he uses throughout the book:
HPtFtU, which stands for the human propensity to f--- things up.
In “Big Daddy,” he addresses the experience of
God, which he describes thus: “I am being seen from inside, but without any of
my own illusions. I am being seen from behind, beneath, beyond. I am being read
by what I am made of.” Then he goes into a long description of awareness in
lovely prose. He notes that such an experience brings comfort but is not
comfortable. “Starting to believe in God,” he writes, “is a lot like falling
love, and there is certainly a biochemical basis for that.”
Spufford reiterates the emotional sense of faith:
“I’m only ever going to get to faith by some process quite separate from proof
and disproof; … I’m only going to arrive at it because in some way that it is
not in the power of evidence to rebut, it feels right.” He concludes that God
“is as common as the air. He is the ordinary ground. And yet a presence. And yet
a person.”
In “Hello, Cruel World,” Spufford considers the
problem of evil, which he describes thus: “What sort of loving deity could have
the priorities that the cruel world reveals, if the cruel world is an accurate
record of His intentions, once you look beyond reality’s little gated
communities of niceness?” He then dismisses several theodicies, or arguments to
solve this problem, before concluding that “all is not well with the world, but
at least God is here in it, with us. We don’t have an argument that solves the
problem of the cruel world, but we have a story.”
This leads to his chapter on Jesus, which he calls
“Yeshua,” where he retells the story of Jesus from the Gospels. Scholars will
no doubt find it too cursory, but I found it well done and engaging.
Even though Spufford writes in his preface that he
didn’t write the book to “engage in zero-sum competition with atheists,” he has
those and other voices in mind at times as he confronts and names certain
perspectives. In his chapter “Et Cetera,” he points out the view that somebody,
“probably St. Paul, retrospectively glued Godhood onto poor Jesus,” who was
really “a minor first-century religious reformer with a bit of a bee in his
bonnet about gentleness. A well-intentioned and irrelevant person from the
pre-Enlightenment ages of superstition.”
In “The International League of the Guilty, Part
Two,” Spufford deals with the difficulty of balancing grace and justice. He
writes, “We want God’s extra-niceness confined to deserving cases such as, for
example, us, and a reliable process of judgment put in place which will ensure
that the child-murderers are ripped apart with red-hot tongs.”
While parts of Unapologetic may tax one’s
patience, most of it reads quickly. And while some of his points are hard-hitting,
confronting Christians as much or more as others, the tone is mostly
confessional. He’s giving us his experience, how he came to see how
Christianity makes emotional sense.
This is likely a book I’ll return to more than
once. And I imagine others will, too.