Let me start off by saying Bob Goff seems like an incredible, admirable guy. His story is inspiring and fun; he offers great insights into living out Christ's calling in a broken world. I especially appreciated his take on uptight religiosity; many Christians who sling Bible verses at each other with little grace could take a page out of his book.
And there are many people for whom this book will be extraordinarily helpful, who should read it prescriptively.
My problem with the book is not anything it -says-. My problem is with all it -does not say-: namely, that Goff's story can't be a model for many of us. That his approach to life, however laudable, might be out of reach, impractical, or deeply wrong for many people.
Maybe Goff knows that--knows that extroverted, can-do, easy-breezy engagement with the world simply isn't possible or right for everyone. But he doesn't ever -say- that. And given the assumptions of white, evangelical middle- to upper-middle-class Christians (his primary audience), the people reading his book won't ever question that his approach to extraordinary living is for everybody with little modofication needed. For those for whom his approach works, this might not be a problem. But for those who can't take up his optimism, it could prove a deep discouragement. And it's also tiring when churches, pastors, and mentors keep telling us -this- is the way to live out faith when -this- is simply not the whole story.
That's not to demean his assumption that there _is_ a way for all people to live extraordinary lives inside their ordinary ones. I absolutely agree that there is. But extraordinary can mean many different things. The problem is when we constantly lift up ONE kind of extraordinary, without ever telling the stories of lesser-known, whole-hearted living.
I think of my friend Tanya, who is housebound with a chronic illness. Or the fierce single mothers I know. Or the house cleaners in my Bible study with limited English and sometimes not the correct immigration papers. All of these people live deeply extraordinary lives. But Tanya is unlikely to take her son to another country on little notice for a three-day whirlwind tour. The single mothers would not be able to sit outside a law school dean's office for more than a week with their kids on their knees. And the women in my Bible study would not be able to walk onto a movie set without a pass; no one would assume they belonged.
What bothers me about Bob Goff's book is that it's best read by somewhat wealthy white men who can face the world with fewer restrictions than many of us (I myself, a wealthy white woman, also face few hinderances). He offers a simple, uplifting tale that is not exactly wrong, but is incomplete. If Goff's book were shelved alongside thousands of other stories chronicling other types of extraordinary ways to follow Jesus, I would have no problem with it. Simplicity is fine as long as it's not the only story.
But the problem is that -most- popular Christian tales tell exactly the same story, and it can start seeming like those who struggle with anxiety disorders, or who are not gregarious enough to make friends with strangers, or who don't have $1500 bucks to go to Uganda to help others, or who have suffered trauma and for whom getting out of bed is an extraordinary act are somehow lesser-than, simply not brave, or who need to work a little bit harder. That they should cultivate a bit more easy-breezy confidence and walk through the barriers that feel like prisons.
I think it's telling that of all the protagonists in Goff's stories, none of them (save his daughter and his ex-girlfriend, and the latter is not really the protagonist) are women. That's not to say that Goff doesn't like, admire or learn from women, but the kind of stories he tells seem to me beside the point for many women I know. The kind of optimistic confidence Goff exudes in his book feels like a foreign language to me, as privileged as I am. The whole #metoo movement has only underlined the very real barriers women face when they waltz into unfamiliar places with only a smile and some confidence.
I can almost hear howls from people at this review. "You're just frightened to let go of suffering or barriers and live extraordinarily. You want to stay small and keep others small with you."
But on the contrary, I -feel- extraordinary, set-free, purposeful, and optimistic. It's just that the confidence and wholeness I've found (that which did not come from my privilege) came through suffering, and tears, and coming to terms with barriers and limitations (like anxiety, past trauma, and grief).
Before I found freedom, before I learned to live into my purpose, I would have read Goff's book and felt terrible that I could not summon a crumb of his boundless enthusiasm and verve. I would have assumed there was something deeply wrong with me. Not because Goff is wrong, or wrong-headed, but because of the stories he doesn't tell.
I wish he would have said so in his book. It would make all the difference. Because in the end, I am rooting for Goff, and would be honored to meet him.