Goetz does not try to convince that spiritual life is difficult in suburbia, he just assumes it, relaying short anecdotes and solid medicine, writing sharp and funny prose. Instead of the pursuit of immortality symbols, from SUVs to the accomplishment of children, he offers the thicker life full of spiritual practices to combat the primary spiritual ills of the suburbs. The issue of control is met with silence, identity with self-realization, covetousness, with friendship with have-nots, self-pity and suffering with the cross, needing to make a difference with the pursuit of action and not efficiency (his description of the Christian shirker hits too close to home here), church hopping with stability, and relational transactions with spiritual friendship. It is biting in the best of ways and engages his setting (lovely Wheaton, IL), which I know well. As a Protestant he draws from other Christian traditions to remind Protestants how to be serious about the devout life amid the thinness, the busyness, and the self-importance of suburbia. And he does it without denigrating suburbia, at least not unnecessarily.