Something More, by Catherine Marshall, was published in 1974, seven years after her novel Christy. For someone who turned to writing later in life, and who by her own admission struggled with the process, Catherine Marshall was surely gifted at it. I do not agree with everything she writes—especially in Christy, and in her non-fiction she relies a little too much on the supernatural and unusual, but I have a great deal of respect for her. I always glean some wisdom from her books, and I fully believe she wrote the kind of books that you can read and reread, and gain something different each time.
Something More is 276 pages, a manageable length, but the chapters are long, so you can’t really binge this.
In each chapter Catherine tackles a different subject, some connected to each other, some not. My favorite chapters, and the ones I found the most personally helpful, are chapters 3, 4, 6, 7 and 8. But all of the chapters are good, and have something insightful to offer.
In reading this book I found Catherine Marshall had fleshed out ideas about storytelling, about spiritual power and its repercussions, that I’d previously thought about, but couldn’t fully express—Catherine puts all of it into words wonderfully.
There are so many great things in this book that I cannot possibly cover all of them in a review, however, here are a few.
Catherine Marshall’s topics are a little scattered in this book, so my thoughts may be as well. In chapter 3, she references a comment by David du Plessis—there is no inherited Christianity because “God has no grandsons.” Not to get technical, but this is the very reason I have disagreements with church traditions that have infant baptism and emphasize the ‘covenant’. They aren’t necessarily wrong, but this view can lead to children becoming lax, and thinking they are fine because “my parents were Christians, and I was baptized.” It removes personal responsibility, and the need for each generation, each person, to go to God themselves and ask for forgiveness. Later in that same chapter, which incidentally is titled ‘Forgiveness’, the author talks about the things we hold against people, and how it poisons us over time. Or we justify avoiding certain people because they rub us the wrong way. This is where I think there is a little more room than the author allows for. It is a modern term, but there are people who are just plain toxic, and at some point, you give them over to God to take care of: you can pray for them and ask for forgiveness for anything you’re holding against them, but interacting with them regularly isn’t healthy. However, I did find this passage convicting, so maybe she’s right after all. 😊
Also in chapter 3—boy, this chapter is chock-full of good stuff! There is a testimonial, and the person says this, “I choose You, Lord. Then I got in the shower. That shower was my true baptism.” I think this story illustrates two points. First, water baptism will always be associated with salvation—with cleansing. Water is an important part of that process—after all water in the real world does exactly that—it cleanses. Second, in the testimonial, the transformation had already taken place—that is why something as humble as a shower could feel like baptism. It isn’t the water, the place, or anything else; only the cleansing power of Christ, and if that cleansing hasn’t taken place, the rest is superfluous.
This is a minor observation, but in chapter 4 Catherine Marshall lays out the routine in the Jonathan Edwards household, and it is exactly what I would aspire to do with my own children. And based on the statistics from just that one family—everyone who wants to see cultural change—be encouraged. It does start at home, and within a few generations, you have the potential for social transformation.
In chapter 6 Catherine Marshall discusses dreams and what they can mean. Not all of what she says is necessarily helpful and applicable, but some of it is certainly fascinating. And it is here that she says, and research backs her up, that there are certain universal symbols in human’s brains, bound up in who we are and what we respond to, and this is why everyone can find truth in “the symbolism used by Jesus, the folk stories of all peoples, and the world’s fairy tales.” I agree, and this is what I’ve wanted to put into words for ages. This is why I have almost a visceral response to stories that speak to me, and why certain stories open up a vista of the world that leaves me in awe. How could anyone discount the power of the different storytelling techniques when God Himself is a storyteller?
Here in this same chapter the author has a beautiful passage about balancing the emotions with the rest of the body as a whole—metaphorically, literally, and spiritually. It is from a conversation she had with Professor Morton Kelsey. “You see, Christianity is the world’s earthiest religion. Centuries ago, even very spiritual monks knew that working with their hands—gardening or erecting buildings, working vineyards or even winemaking, copying manuscripts, whatever—was as much a part of true worship as prayer. The use of the whole person, you see.” This is wonderful. And something I wish people would get back to. We can worship Christ in all aspects of life—enjoying the creation—all the goodness that He has given us—all of that can be worship. Simple tasks can be a form of worship too—as well as walking in the wild and basking in a beautiful sunset. Some Christians relegate worship to something done within the four walls of a church, or just on the Sabbath. It isn’t.
In chapter 8 Catherine Marshall talks about spiritual warfare, and she relates something very insightful. In talking about moral relativism, and how so many people dabble in the occult, or try things out, because they think there isn’t good or evil, or any moral absolutes, so anything that’s interesting is fine; this is the view that spirituality is great, and that there isn’t any danger in exploring it because it is neutral. It reminds me of people who partake in the world of fantasy and magic and insist there is nothing to be worried about—it is all fake. Nowadays it is fine to believe in the supernatural, to be “spiritual”, but to believe in a God that created this universe—now, that is silly. People don’t deny the supernatural—they deny a God that they must be accountable to.
To sum up this book, and this rather meandering review: Something More by Catherine Marshall is the kind of book I wish more people wrote—you just can’t find these kinds of books anymore—confronting, comforting, insightful—all at the same time. Read this book and find that “something more” that you’ve been missing.