Between moving house, spending more time on my YouTube channel, et cetera, I have not got to read as many books as the last few years. The quality of this one more than compensates for that lack of quantity.
Soskice's work speaks to the real, embodied, messiness of Grace and its power to break apart our crude little categories, our self-obsession, and our idols.
There is much beauty and power in this deceptively radical book. Hers is a truly humanistic work that rightly states the role of language and the organic, even personal, nature of our relationships: With God, other humans, and the creation.
She notes how the Bible uses terms like brother, sister, cousin, friend. It has a real down-to-earth quality. It is often far removed from the neat abstractions of navel gazing of much modern philosophy or faux-theology.
Her points are not aggressively polemical but subtle, well developed, and argued cogently in each chapter. The Kindness of God demonstrates a balance of careful scholarship and moving imagery: analogy, metaphor, and more. By combining her nuanced points with such clear imagery, her words stay with you.
For Soskice, 'Spirituality' is real life. It is not some superfluous add-on: Mind, body, soul, and Spirit. By calling upon great saints like Simone Weil, she conveys that:
"The body, no less than the soul, is the place where God acts.
For Simone Weil, the body is the means by which we encounter that ‘necessity’ which is the ordering of the world... Once we have allowed our physical natures into the picture of the spiritual life as a good, indeed a necessity, the vexations of ordinary daily life appear in a different light, but we need to be able to read them.
Weil has some good analogies: when we hold a newspaper upside down, we see only strange printed shapes; but when we right it, we no longer see printed forms, but words..."
In a refreshing change from much mechanic secularism and cold church pietism alike, Soskice writes with a clear tenderness:
"...of life’s experiences, none is so ‘un-selving’ as attending to a baby whose demands are immediate, inconvenient, irrational, sometimes inexplicable, and wholly just.
There is no ‘arguing’ with a baby.
We need to add the spiritual discipline of attention (prosoche¯) to self-mastery (enkrateia).
It is by being at the disposal of another that we are characteristically drawn out of ourselves (ecstasis) and come to understand ourselves fully as selves.
Central to this are our physical bodies, with all their affective and passible characteristics."
This fine book communicates an orthodox view of Christ and His mysterious life. This attention to detail, and the vital role of transcendence, is most refreshing:
"Christians believe that in Jesus of Nazareth the Word became flesh, but not, as Karl Barth ceaselessly pointed out, that the God who is mystery becomes un-mysterious in Jesus Christ. If we do not see Jesus Christ as mystery, we see not God incarnate, but a great man."