Great Summer Fiction Reading

Taking a break from doom and gloom

Fact is sometimes stranger than fiction, but fiction is always more relaxing!

To pull me out of depression twelve years ago, and as an antidote for my workaholism, I began to read fiction. Lots of it. Too many spy novels at first. Then a few of Frank Peretti’s lesser-known works. Still hadn’t found a niche or genre that worked for me.

Advice from the United Nations

About that time, Lauri, Ruth, and I went to Sweden for Sarah’s wedding. For the trip home, we needed to get up at 5:00 am. Yet in the middle of the night, something triggered the fire alarm. Other noises also interfered. Start to finish a rough night.

When I finally climbed out of bed, I decided I simply did not care about hygiene. Why risk falling asleep in the shower or nicking my jugular if I shaved? “Just give me coffee and let’s go. Besides, nobody at these airports is going to know me. And my family and I are not sitting together anyway!”

Our hosts graciously dropped us off at the Umea airport. I looked frightful. Pillow hair, dark shadow of unshaved growth, unbrushed teeth—but I wasn’t smiling anyway. I may have looked like a homeless man, but at least I didn’t look like a terrorist. I figured I’d be fine.

In Stockholm, we found our gate for the eight hour flight. We jammed carry-ons into the overhead, and plopped into our seats. To my delight, the seat next to me was empty, so I plotted a strategy for my transatlantic snooze.

But then at last he came. An elderly gentleman, dressed like a businessman, was scanning seat numbers as he ambled up the aisle. Sure enough, he sat next to the disheveled American tourist and introduced himself as Steig.

“What takes you to the States, Steig?”

“I’m heading back to the office at the United Nations,” he stated casually.

Oh, great! He’s dressed to impress. I’m dressed to distress and looking like a bum.

I eventually divulged that I was a pastor—a doctor of ministry, actually. To further calm his fears, I stated I did a lot of writing and counseling on issues of sexuality, and was working on my first book: Into the Light.

Such a kind hearted diplomat! Treated me no differently after my somewhat impressive qualifications than he did when he may have assumed I was an aging chimney sweep.

Then he made his suggestion: “If you are interested in how sexual matters affect clergy and the Church, have you ever read the Starbridge Series of novels by Susan Howatch?”

Christian author Susan Howatch

Once home, I looked it up and dove in. Wow, did I get hooked! This author’s grasp of church history, philosophy, theology, psychology, the Church of England, and the subtle temptations of promiscuity is astounding! This is especially surprising since she didn’t become a Christian until early adulthood.

These six books can be read as a series or individually. They follow a story of two generations of clergy from the Church of England, spanning the four decades which ended in the tumultuous late sixties. Main characters represent all branches of the church: Anglo-Catholic, progressive, mystic, evangelical, and charismatic, each with their own struggles with sexual brokenness. There’s even an exorcist!

As she writes, she carefully follows the events, trends, and the fad theologies of the time, all of which impacted views of sexuality from the various traditions within the church.

Altogether, the series is probably about 2800 pages. I’m nearly finished with my second time through, which says a lot for someone who has avoided fiction since my college days.

A Bit of Sampling

As an example of some of her incredible insight and breadth of knowledge, consider the following:

“Liaisons are usually rooted in self-deception and seldom represent anything but an all-consuming self-centeredness.”

This insight fell from the lips of the conservative bishop who narrates the final book Absolute Truths. While in the midst of grieving for his deceased wife, he fell into the bed of a widow who had reached out to comfort him. Though he had rationalized his visit to her home, he later reflected about the deceitfulness of his seemingly innocent intentions.

We should never deceive ourselves into thinking we are immune to sexual temptation and adultery. As I state in my book Pure Hearted: Banding Together for Sexual Wholeness, we become vulnerable when we are hungry, angry, lonely, tired, stressed, or bored (HALTSB). In those moments, we are so susceptible to self-deception.

Howatch prescribes the proper antidote in the following thought from that very same grieving bishop:

One of the desert fathers, living his ascetic life many centuries ago, said that if one thinks of fornication one can avoid committing it, whereas if one fails to give sufficient consideration one inevitably winds up in the wrong bed. Abba Cyrus of Alexandria was no stranger, it seems, to the dangers of allowing powerful drives to remain hidden in the unconscious mind.

In my early years of pastoring, that same piece of advice was often given to all pastors, only it was worded this way: “If you think there is no way you could ever commit adultery, watch out. That makes it all the more likely you will actually do it.”

Self-awareness of our weaknesses and vulnerabilities is critical for all counselors and clergy. We are not to live in paranoia. And a mindless and slavish adherence to professional boundaries is not quite enough. We are simply to be on our guard.

Shattered Idealism

At the end of Into the Light: Healing Sexuality in Today’s Church, I actually refer to one of the closing scenes of Absolute Truths, the final book in this Starbridge Series. Throughout books four and six, there’s an ongoing conflict between the conservative Bishop Charles Ashworth and the very progressive Dean Neville Aysgarth. Both had experienced their sexual lapses, but the progressive, deeply influenced by John A. T. Robinson’s version of moral relativism, had gained quite a reputation as a womanizer. But at the end of this series, they reconcile in remarkable fashion.

I offered Howatch’s fictional depiction of reconciliation as a picture for my own vain hope for reconciliation within my own denomination, The United Methodist Church. As the last two articles of Tsunami Surfing revealed, the facts have been far stranger and more tragic than Howatch’s fiction.

Note the depth of the author’s knowledge and skill in this quote, narrated by the conservative Bishop Charles Ashworth.

I have now reached the theological end of my memoir; I have written paradigmatically on the ontological, teleological and soteriological nature of the twentieth-century Church of England by employing the tool of Hegelian dialectic: the thesis and antithesis (I myself and Aysgarth) had clashed to produce (with the aid of Jon, the channel for the Holy Spirit) the synthesis which embodied both the substance of the Church, its ongoing purpose and its painful but not entirely unsuccessful journey toward salvation.

As we make our way through the twenty-first century, the Church continues to fulfill its “ongoing purpose and its painful but not entirely unsuccessful journey toward salvation.” Splits and schisms will likely continue until Christ returns. The Christian institutions of Europe and North America may crumble and collapse. But God’s truth will triumph in the end.