A syllabus of sorts

Anchor texts for A More Beautiful Way

There are some books we read and quickly move on from.

They were interesting or good, or not so good, and we simply check the book off our lists and keep it rolling. But there are other books we read and they crack us wide open. They read us, it seems. Giving language to our deepest questions, longings, and needs. These are the books we carry in our hearts and minds, day in and day out, as they become the kaleidoscope of perspectives through which we know ourselves and see the world.

Last week, I shared on Instagram that I’m writing a new book, tentatively titled A More Beautiful Way of course. In the process of preparing to write, I’ve been revisiting the texts that have enriched my life and expanded my heart over the past few years. These books have become a syllabus of sorts. If I were to teach a class on A More Beautiful Way, and on the anchor voices that shape this orientation in the world, the following books would be on the list. I’m sharing them with you because I love them. I also want to create space for you to reflect on the books that have read you, and in so doing, have expanded or enriched your life.

This list is relatively short, but if you have read any of these, or if you choose to after reading this list, please let me know. I’d love to discuss them with you.

Dance of the Dissident Daughter: A Woman’s Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine by Sue Monk Kidd

Even in typing out the title, my words get stuck in my throat. I get choked up about this one. My dear friend Margaret recommended it to me a few years ago and I devoured it in a matter of days. There were all of these dry and weary places within me, places that had been immensely undernourished, underserved, and consistently ignored in male-dominated religious circles. I had no idea that I was experiencing such lack until Kidd’s words began pouring like healing waters onto the parched and needy places of my soul. These are high praises, I know. Not only is Kidd an exquisite writer, but this book is just what she says it is: it’s her journey. She tells her story. She’s not prescribing any one way to know God. She’s not giving you a list of practices to try. She’s artful and honest and invitational with her life. She wrote this book almost thirty years ago, so I’d be curious to hear how she holds these themes now. But if you are a woman who feels like something is just missing in your religious life and experience, I highly recommend you give this text a try.

In My Grandmother’s House: Black Women, Faith, and the Stories We Inherit by Yolanda Pierce

I was on my way out of the Christian tradition all together. I didn’t know it fully until talking with another dear friend named Sandra. I was expressing to her my deep sadness and disillusionment with “the church” and she lovingly, but sharply responded, “Which church?” I said something along the lines of, “Well, all of them.” And she said something to the effect of, “Bethaney, the church exists all over the world.” This caught me off guard. She was right. I said I was done with “the church” as if it were one big thing. But the truth is I’d been deeply involved in one particular type of church for many years and it was that particular expression that I’d found wanting. Her correction called me in. Sandra then offered me a gift in recommending that I read Dr. Pierce’s work, In My Grandmother’s House.

I read it quickly. It was food for my soul. This book weaves themes of Blackness, family, remembrance, and faith into a nourishing feast—one that finds you right in the middle of the wilderness. I ate and had my fill. I was satisfied. In reading Dr. Pierce’s stories of the expansive and sustaining faith of her grandmother, I was reminded that to be a follower of Jesus as a Black woman is an embodiment of ancestral wisdom and veneration. Dr. Pierce reminded me that God loves Black women in particular and lasting ways. She also helped me remember the faith of my grandmothers, whose belief and spiritual labor are foundations upon which I stand.

The Hidden Wound by Wendell Berry

Surely I’ve written about this book before here on A More Beautiful Way. It’s a short but potent piece of work by one of my absolute favorite thinkers. The Hidden Wound by Wendell Berry was first published in 1970. For those who are unfamiliar with Mr. Berry's context, he’s a white man, now in his 80’s, as well as a farmer-poet from Kentucky. In this particular book, written on the heels of the Civil Rights Movement, he’s wrestling with issues of race, identity and land. What I appreciate most about this book is Mr. Berry’s honesty about his own family’s complicated relationships with the Black people they enslaved and/or employed on their farm. He wrestles with what it has cost white Americans to have violently outsourced land stewardship to those they’d enslaved, thereby severing their own meaningful connections to the earth.

The Hidden Wound is a nuanced telling of stories that we don’t often make room for in modern racial discourse. This might be why I love the book so much. I read a lot about race from the perspective of other Black people, but its rare to hear white voices speak honestly, unapologetically and compassionately about the complexities of our shared racial history as Southern folks in the United States. Again, I don’t think we have the collective capacity to honor such nuance right now, which is so sad; we need more honest stories, not fewer. I believe revisiting works like one this teaches us how to meaningfully expand beyond the racial narratives we hold dear.

Our Unforming: De-Westernizing Spiritual Formation by Cindy S. Lee

This book gave me permission to step into a wholehearted, full-bodied experience of my faith. As it turns out, so much of what I’d grown to resent about “the church” was not actually theological per se; it was largely cultural. It was all the ways, over time, I’d felt compelled to check my Blackness, my ancestral wisdom, my intuitive knowing and my cyclical ways of being at the door of religious life. It was the ways Christianity had become synonymous with productivity, performance and achievement. I don’t blame anyone for this; we live in the United States of America. These values are in the water. But when unevaluated, especially in religious institutions, wow—they can cause tremendous amounts of harm.

In this book, Cindy Lee clearly and simply helped me to draw out faithful expressions of contemplative living that are firmly rooted in the embodied cultural legacies of communities of color. She set me on a trajectory of embracing a faith in which my ancestors are honored and the African roots of early church fathers and mothers are celebrated. By moving readers through three orientations, Cindy invites us all into a decolonized, de-westernized version of spiritual life while still honoring the pillars of Christian tradition. I loved this book and could not recommend it more highly.

It’s fun to step back and to look at the voices shaping who we are becoming. It’s a great privilege to live in a time when we have access to such a diverse tapestry of insights on life and faith. I want to write more and linger here a bit longer, as reflecting on these texts and their goodness is bringing me a lot of joy. But I need to shift into the rest of my work day, so I’ll stop here.

I do hope you’ll share with me anything from my book reflections that is resonating with you. I’d also love to hear about any books you would list as being part of the “syllabus of your life” for this season. Let me know in the comments below. I’ll catch you here next week.

Bethaney

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In the Garden

Here are upcoming spiritual care offerings in the Garden Contemplative Community:

Group Spiritual Direction

Date: Tuesday, January 30th
Time: 7:00 PM - 8:30 PM EST

This contemplative space will feature reflections on seeds, new beginnings, fresh starts and possibilities. Following personal reflection time, each person will be invited to share what’s stirring within them. We will then go around the virtual circle and share how we are each hearing and noticing the holy in what each individual shares. As a note, sharing is not forced or required; you can always pass. This is great opportunity to slow down and reflect at the top of a new year.

Every Friday - Lectio Divina with the Gospel of John

Day & Time: Fridays at 10 AM EST

Lectio Divina, or divine reading, is a contemplative practice in which we sit attentively with the words of Scripture or of another sacred, creative text. Learn more here.

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