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The Hidden Evils of the Biligramite Cult

A forthright call for Christians to pursue a more private and personal relationship with God.

Demaree’s nonfiction debut offers an exposé of what he sees as the personality cult surrounding American preacher Billy Graham.

The crux of this book’s opening segment is a full-throated condemnation of the message and ministry of a revered figure in American religious circles: the hugely popular televangelist Graham. The author attacks Graham’s familiar exhortation to go to church in order to “get right with God” on multiple grounds, primarily contending that “Telling others to go to church and seek a group of people is the opposite of telling them to go to God and seek Him.” He scornfully refers to Graham’s congregants as “biligramites,” programmed to fill up “pretentious” megachurches and pay pastors handsomely for the privilege. He’s aware of the generational reach of Graham’s long tenure, pointing out that “biligramite children are nurtured and polished in hypocrisy.” Demaree himself is a proponent of a “God within” philosophy that dispenses with most public and communal aspects of Christian faith, in favor of private, inner contemplation: “When we are alone with God,” he writes, “we can easily pray deeply and sincerely,” whereas churchgoing Christians tend to “trust in their fortresses to save them.” The author lays out the keys to “spiritual joy” in the book’s middle section, telling his readers that it represents the “supreme value” in the Bible. Overall, Demaree’s book is as unexpected as it is fascinating. The narrative drive of its clearheaded spiritual advice, however, is muddled considerably by the book’s final segment, which purports to give “scientific certainties” for the existence of the Christian God. Instead, it falls back on old claims that God is the author of all morality and that all concepts of “right” and “wrong” ultimately derive from him. Such notions may have non-Christians, and particularly atheists, rolling their eyes, but it’s unlikely that they’re the book’s target audience.

A forthright call for Christians to pursue a more private and personal relationship with God.

Pub Date: Nov. 29, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-5194-3813-3

Page Count: 160

Publisher: Fellowship Books

Review Posted Online: April 21, 2016

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THE ART OF SOLITUDE

A very welcome instance of philosophy that can help readers live a good life.

A teacher and scholar of Buddhism offers a formally varied account of the available rewards of solitude.

“As Mother Ayahuasca takes me in her arms, I realize that last night I vomited up my attachment to Buddhism. In passing out, I died. In coming to, I was, so to speak, reborn. I no longer have to fight these battles, I repeat to myself. I am no longer a combatant in the dharma wars. It feels as if the course of my life has shifted onto another vector, like a train shunted off its familiar track onto a new trajectory.” Readers of Batchelor’s previous books (Secular Buddhism: Imagining the Dharma in an Uncertain World, 2017, etc.) will recognize in this passage the culmination of his decadeslong shift away from the religious commitments of Buddhism toward an ecumenical and homegrown philosophy of life. Writing in a variety of modes—memoir, history, collage, essay, biography, and meditation instruction—the author doesn’t argue for his approach to solitude as much as offer it for contemplation. Essentially, Batchelor implies that if you read what Buddha said here and what Montaigne said there, and if you consider something the author has noticed, and if you reflect on your own experience, you have the possibility to improve the quality of your life. For introspective readers, it’s easy to hear in this approach a direct response to Pascal’s claim that “all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Batchelor wants to relieve us of this inability by offering his example of how to do just that. “Solitude is an art. Mental training is needed to refine and stabilize it,” he writes. “When you practice solitude, you dedicate yourself to the care of the soul.” Whatever a soul is, the author goes a long way toward soothing it.

A very welcome instance of philosophy that can help readers live a good life.

Pub Date: Feb. 18, 2020

ISBN: 978-0-300-25093-0

Page Count: 200

Publisher: Yale Univ.

Review Posted Online: Nov. 24, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 15, 2019

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THE BOOK OF GENESIS ILLUSTRATED

An erudite and artful, though frustratingly restrained, look at Old Testament stories.

The Book of Genesis as imagined by a veteran voice of underground comics.

R. Crumb’s pass at the opening chapters of the Bible isn’t nearly the act of heresy the comic artist’s reputation might suggest. In fact, the creator of Fritz the Cat and Mr. Natural is fastidiously respectful. Crumb took pains to preserve every word of Genesis—drawing from numerous source texts, but mainly Robert Alter’s translation, The Five Books of Moses (2004)—and he clearly did his homework on the clothing, shelter and landscapes that surrounded Noah, Abraham and Isaac. This dedication to faithful representation makes the book, as Crumb writes in his introduction, a “straight illustration job, with no intention to ridicule or make visual jokes.” But his efforts are in their own way irreverent, and Crumb feels no particular need to deify even the most divine characters. God Himself is not much taller than Adam and Eve, and instead of omnisciently imparting orders and judgment He stands beside them in Eden, speaking to them directly. Jacob wrestles not with an angel, as is so often depicted in paintings, but with a man who looks not much different from himself. The women are uniformly Crumbian, voluptuous Earth goddesses who are both sexualized and strong-willed. (The endnotes offer a close study of the kinds of power women wielded in Genesis.) The downside of fitting all the text in is that many pages are packed tight with small panels, and too rarely—as with the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah—does Crumb expand his lens and treat signature events dramatically. Even the Flood is fairly restrained, though the exodus of the animals from the Ark is beautifully detailed. The author’s respect for Genesis is admirable, but it may leave readers wishing he had taken a few more chances with his interpretation, as when he draws the serpent in the Garden of Eden as a provocative half-man/half-lizard. On the whole, though, the book is largely a tribute to Crumb’s immense talents as a draftsman and stubborn adherence to the script.

An erudite and artful, though frustratingly restrained, look at Old Testament stories.

Pub Date: Oct. 19, 2009

ISBN: 978-0-393-06102-4

Page Count: 224

Publisher: Norton

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2009

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