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A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory
When pain is real, why is God silent?
Frederick Buechner has grappled with the nature of pain, grief, and grace ever since his father committed suicide when Buechner was a young boy. He continued that search as a father when his daughter struggled with anorexia. In this essential collection of essays, including one never before published, Frederick Buechner finds that the God who might seem so silent is ever near. He writes about what it means to be a steward of our pain, and about this grace from God that seems arbitrary and yet draws us to his holiness and care. Finally he writes about the magic of memory and how it can close up the old wounds with the memories of past goodnesses and graces from God.
Here now are the best of Buechner’s writings on pain and loss, covering such topics as the power of hidden secrets, loss of a dearly beloved, letting go, resurrection from the ruins, peace, and listening for the quiet voice of God. And he reveals that pain and sorrow can be a treasure—an amazing grace.
Buechner says that loss will come to all of us, but he writes that we are not alone. Crazy and unreal as it may sometimes seem, God’s holy, healing grace is always present and available if we are still enough to receive it.
Frederick Buechner has grappled with the nature of pain, grief, and grace ever since his father committed suicide when Buechner was a young boy. He continued that search as a father when his daughter struggled with anorexia. In this essential collection of essays, including one never before published, Frederick Buechner finds that the God who might seem so silent is ever near. He writes about what it means to be a steward of our pain, and about this grace from God that seems arbitrary and yet draws us to his holiness and care. Finally he writes about the magic of memory and how it can close up the old wounds with the memories of past goodnesses and graces from God.
Here now are the best of Buechner’s writings on pain and loss, covering such topics as the power of hidden secrets, loss of a dearly beloved, letting go, resurrection from the ruins, peace, and listening for the quiet voice of God. And he reveals that pain and sorrow can be a treasure—an amazing grace.
Buechner says that loss will come to all of us, but he writes that we are not alone. Crazy and unreal as it may sometimes seem, God’s holy, healing grace is always present and available if we are still enough to receive it.
142 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 3, 2017
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About the author
Frederick Buechner
92 books1,229 followersFrederick Buechner is a highly influential writer and theologian who has won awards for his poetry, short stories, novels and theological writings. His work pioneered the genre of spiritual memoir, laying the groundwork for writers such as Anne Lamott, Rob Bell and Lauren Winner.
His first book, A Long Day's Dying, was published to acclaim just two years after he graduated from Princeton. He entered Union Theological Seminary in 1954 where he studied under renowned theologians that included Reinhold Niebuhr, Paul Tillich, and James Muilenberg. In 1955, his short story "The Tiger" which had been published in the New Yorker won the O. Henry Prize.
After seminary he spent nine years at Phillips Exeter Academy, establishing a religion department and teaching courses in both religion and English. Among his students was the future author, John Irving. In 1969 he gave the Noble Lectures at Harvard. He presented a theological autobiography on a day in his life, which was published as The Alphabet of Grace.
In the years that followed he began publishing more novels, including the Pulitzer Prize finalist Godric. At the same time, he was also writing a series of spiritual autobiographies. A central theme in his theological writing is looking for God in the everyday, listening and paying attention, to hear God speak to people through their personal lives.
His first book, A Long Day's Dying, was published to acclaim just two years after he graduated from Princeton. He entered Union Theological Seminary in 1954 where he studied under renowned theologians that included Reinhold Niebuhr, Paul Tillich, and James Muilenberg. In 1955, his short story "The Tiger" which had been published in the New Yorker won the O. Henry Prize.
After seminary he spent nine years at Phillips Exeter Academy, establishing a religion department and teaching courses in both religion and English. Among his students was the future author, John Irving. In 1969 he gave the Noble Lectures at Harvard. He presented a theological autobiography on a day in his life, which was published as The Alphabet of Grace.
In the years that followed he began publishing more novels, including the Pulitzer Prize finalist Godric. At the same time, he was also writing a series of spiritual autobiographies. A central theme in his theological writing is looking for God in the everyday, listening and paying attention, to hear God speak to people through their personal lives.
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October 18, 2024
What do you DO when you’re no longer able to shore up your losses against the rising tide of brute Despair?
How do you manage to slog through a desert of a ruined life when catalaclysm upon climacteric upon catastrophe has so wreaked havoc with your shaky nerves, that you are unable to endure another anguished second of pain?
Why is the only reward for your assiduous efforts always the leering and grimacingly yawning grin of the Empty Abyss?
These are unanswerable questions to so many of us, and they remained only and abjectly that for ALL of this man’s fiercely tormented existence.
It all seems rather flimsy and facile when an old contented seeker like me, who has found lasting peace in simple resignation, trumpets Faith as a sure panacea.
For, with men like Reverend Buechner, there can only be a tenuous Holding On for Dear Life to the glacial surface of a vertical drop - by his FINGERNAILS.
All solutions are meaningless to such men as this.
But he has found at least a Hiatus to his Pain in unending activity and relentless Trying.
And, in spite of Everything, he BELIEVES.
Believes, in the raging storm.
Believes, in the howling wind.
Believes - in the Heart of Chaos - in the ABYSS AT THE STORM’S EYE.
That’s all I could do, too, after I turned 49. Peace? Happiness? Contentment?
They were all suddenly tattered Tibetan Prayer Flags fluttering mockingly in the Howling, Foul Tempestuous Wind of the Pure VOID!
When I retired I suffered deep burnout. My depression was similar to Buechner’s, but of another variety...
One of the things I suggest you do, if you are afflicted with any of its varieties is listen closely to the Madrigals of the Renaissance composer Gesualdo.
Carlo Gesualdo murdered his wife in the arms of another man. After all, in those days macho nobility obliged a nobleman to be suitably outraged by infidelity...
Well, that was the beginning of his lifelong affliction - clinical depression, like Buechner. Caused by his guilt. As it progressed, his Madrigals (listen on YouTube) get eerier and eerier. Listening to them gives true catharsis - pity and terror!
As Eliot says, for most of us there is only the ceaseless trying to keep our leaky sailboat afloat - bailing and tacking on the howling Nor’ Easterly endlessly - or so it seems.
Unless, as Buechner and I did, we make our Every Thought a tattered prayer flag in the brutal storm.
Until the moment the sound of the “sea bell’s Perpetual Angelus” pierces our parched ears wth new hope.
For that will happen, Mark my Word. WITHOUT DOUBT.
“Just when you think it can’t get any worse, it CAN. And just when you think it can’t get better again, it CAN.”
Words of a wise man, Nicholas Sparks...
Buechner talks here of the saving grace of a happy memory. That happy memory, replayed over and over in our screaming mind, can pave over the horendous pain of our trauma with real and living goodness.
But I was leery of such quick fixes with the advent of my advanced third-generation trauma suppressor 12 years ago.
You see, what my medication does is effectively to dig DEEPER into that very trauma. It uncovers Deeper and Deeper Trauma - all in an effort to build up immunity.
When I read Buechner's book that uncovering process was nearing its maximum.
I had been writing reviews containing my memories here since 2016, the year the memories peaked into a screaming climacteric, experientially. That crisis unlocked a deep terror. So, when writing this review, initially in 2019, the crisis hadn't abated.
But I see now that Buechner has proved right. For as the great Aristotle says in his Poetics, if terror strikes, pity is not far behind.
And so pity - and then compassion for the perpetrator of that terror - and then, lasting love, followed. Hence the peace began that I now enjoy in idle moments.
And now, looking over my earliest reviews with their cornucopia of sunny memories, I KNOW this book was right all along:
Loving memories now DO seal up past pain -
As love is now my Happy Life's safe Seal:
And Faith - in the midst of the Void - is where it STARTS.
How do you manage to slog through a desert of a ruined life when catalaclysm upon climacteric upon catastrophe has so wreaked havoc with your shaky nerves, that you are unable to endure another anguished second of pain?
Why is the only reward for your assiduous efforts always the leering and grimacingly yawning grin of the Empty Abyss?
These are unanswerable questions to so many of us, and they remained only and abjectly that for ALL of this man’s fiercely tormented existence.
It all seems rather flimsy and facile when an old contented seeker like me, who has found lasting peace in simple resignation, trumpets Faith as a sure panacea.
For, with men like Reverend Buechner, there can only be a tenuous Holding On for Dear Life to the glacial surface of a vertical drop - by his FINGERNAILS.
All solutions are meaningless to such men as this.
But he has found at least a Hiatus to his Pain in unending activity and relentless Trying.
And, in spite of Everything, he BELIEVES.
Believes, in the raging storm.
Believes, in the howling wind.
Believes - in the Heart of Chaos - in the ABYSS AT THE STORM’S EYE.
That’s all I could do, too, after I turned 49. Peace? Happiness? Contentment?
They were all suddenly tattered Tibetan Prayer Flags fluttering mockingly in the Howling, Foul Tempestuous Wind of the Pure VOID!
When I retired I suffered deep burnout. My depression was similar to Buechner’s, but of another variety...
One of the things I suggest you do, if you are afflicted with any of its varieties is listen closely to the Madrigals of the Renaissance composer Gesualdo.
Carlo Gesualdo murdered his wife in the arms of another man. After all, in those days macho nobility obliged a nobleman to be suitably outraged by infidelity...
Well, that was the beginning of his lifelong affliction - clinical depression, like Buechner. Caused by his guilt. As it progressed, his Madrigals (listen on YouTube) get eerier and eerier. Listening to them gives true catharsis - pity and terror!
As Eliot says, for most of us there is only the ceaseless trying to keep our leaky sailboat afloat - bailing and tacking on the howling Nor’ Easterly endlessly - or so it seems.
Unless, as Buechner and I did, we make our Every Thought a tattered prayer flag in the brutal storm.
Until the moment the sound of the “sea bell’s Perpetual Angelus” pierces our parched ears wth new hope.
For that will happen, Mark my Word. WITHOUT DOUBT.
“Just when you think it can’t get any worse, it CAN. And just when you think it can’t get better again, it CAN.”
Words of a wise man, Nicholas Sparks...
Buechner talks here of the saving grace of a happy memory. That happy memory, replayed over and over in our screaming mind, can pave over the horendous pain of our trauma with real and living goodness.
But I was leery of such quick fixes with the advent of my advanced third-generation trauma suppressor 12 years ago.
You see, what my medication does is effectively to dig DEEPER into that very trauma. It uncovers Deeper and Deeper Trauma - all in an effort to build up immunity.
When I read Buechner's book that uncovering process was nearing its maximum.
I had been writing reviews containing my memories here since 2016, the year the memories peaked into a screaming climacteric, experientially. That crisis unlocked a deep terror. So, when writing this review, initially in 2019, the crisis hadn't abated.
But I see now that Buechner has proved right. For as the great Aristotle says in his Poetics, if terror strikes, pity is not far behind.
And so pity - and then compassion for the perpetrator of that terror - and then, lasting love, followed. Hence the peace began that I now enjoy in idle moments.
And now, looking over my earliest reviews with their cornucopia of sunny memories, I KNOW this book was right all along:
Loving memories now DO seal up past pain -
As love is now my Happy Life's safe Seal:
And Faith - in the midst of the Void - is where it STARTS.
December 28, 2022
A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory, published in 2017, is the last collection of essays by the late Frederick Buechner, an American author, Presbyterian minister, preacher, and theologian. He died on August 15, 2022.
Over the last eight years, no other Christian writer has touched me more deeply than Buechner. In fact, he has been described as a twentieth century C. S. Lewis. John Irving, his former student, has this to say of him and I agree wholeheartedly, “You don’t have to be in the habit of going to church to listen to such a literary minister; you don’t have to be a believer to be moved by Mr. Buechner’s faith.”
In this work, Buechner touched on the nature of pain, grief, and grace. He offered a fresh perspective on coping with loss and memories of loved ones who are no longer with us. Buechner knew what it is like to feel totally at sea when God seems silent while we are struggling with pain. He wrote out of his own suffering, which is a precious gift.
Buechner was age 10 when his father committed suicide. The bereaved family fled New Jersey to Bahamas until World War 2 began. With the exception of his younger brother, Jamie, who cried over it, Buechner and his mother never spoke of his father’s death. Buechner was unable to grieve until thirty years later. He shared this shadowy side of his childhood life to help us understand the price of forgetting or shutting out our grief. Some part of us does not grow, the compassionate side of our personality when we flee the gates of pain.
What is new to me is Buechner’s perspective on the ‘stewardship of pain.’ I understand the stewardship of money and our talents, but pain? Pain and sorrow can be a treasure and he shares thoughts on how to harvest this treasure. In those early years following his loss, Buechner reflected on this: “the compelling sense of an unseen giver and a series of hidden gifts as not only another part of reality, but the deepest part of all.”
Here is a powerful quote that explains the title of this book:
“A crazy, holy grace I have called it. Crazy because whoever could have predicted it? Who can ever foresee the crazy how and when and where of a grace that wells up out of the lostness and pain of the world and of our own inner worlds? And holy because these moments of grace come ultimately from farther away than Oz and deeper down than doom, holy because they heal and hallow.”
Buechner also talked about the healing power of memory. It is possible, he said, to find peace in our memories. Even when we sometimes fail to see it, we are never really alone in our pain. “To remember the past is to see that we are here today by grace, that we have survived as a gift.” I know this to be true, at least in my own experience of loss.
There is much to think about in this collection of essays. I wish to share a beautiful quote on what it means to ‘remember.’ It brought tears to my eyes:
“When you remember me, it means that you carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart. For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost.”
This is likely my last review of 2022. As we say goodbye to this year, regardless of how it has turned out for each of us, may we have peace in the true sense of the word. In Hebrew, “peace, shalom, means fullness, means having everything you need to be wholly and happily yourself.”
Shalom, my friends.
Over the last eight years, no other Christian writer has touched me more deeply than Buechner. In fact, he has been described as a twentieth century C. S. Lewis. John Irving, his former student, has this to say of him and I agree wholeheartedly, “You don’t have to be in the habit of going to church to listen to such a literary minister; you don’t have to be a believer to be moved by Mr. Buechner’s faith.”
In this work, Buechner touched on the nature of pain, grief, and grace. He offered a fresh perspective on coping with loss and memories of loved ones who are no longer with us. Buechner knew what it is like to feel totally at sea when God seems silent while we are struggling with pain. He wrote out of his own suffering, which is a precious gift.
Buechner was age 10 when his father committed suicide. The bereaved family fled New Jersey to Bahamas until World War 2 began. With the exception of his younger brother, Jamie, who cried over it, Buechner and his mother never spoke of his father’s death. Buechner was unable to grieve until thirty years later. He shared this shadowy side of his childhood life to help us understand the price of forgetting or shutting out our grief. Some part of us does not grow, the compassionate side of our personality when we flee the gates of pain.
What is new to me is Buechner’s perspective on the ‘stewardship of pain.’ I understand the stewardship of money and our talents, but pain? Pain and sorrow can be a treasure and he shares thoughts on how to harvest this treasure. In those early years following his loss, Buechner reflected on this: “the compelling sense of an unseen giver and a series of hidden gifts as not only another part of reality, but the deepest part of all.”
Here is a powerful quote that explains the title of this book:
“A crazy, holy grace I have called it. Crazy because whoever could have predicted it? Who can ever foresee the crazy how and when and where of a grace that wells up out of the lostness and pain of the world and of our own inner worlds? And holy because these moments of grace come ultimately from farther away than Oz and deeper down than doom, holy because they heal and hallow.”
Buechner also talked about the healing power of memory. It is possible, he said, to find peace in our memories. Even when we sometimes fail to see it, we are never really alone in our pain. “To remember the past is to see that we are here today by grace, that we have survived as a gift.” I know this to be true, at least in my own experience of loss.
There is much to think about in this collection of essays. I wish to share a beautiful quote on what it means to ‘remember.’ It brought tears to my eyes:
“When you remember me, it means that you carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart. For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost.”
This is likely my last review of 2022. As we say goodbye to this year, regardless of how it has turned out for each of us, may we have peace in the true sense of the word. In Hebrew, “peace, shalom, means fullness, means having everything you need to be wholly and happily yourself.”
Shalom, my friends.
November 7, 2017
Frederick Buechner is one of my favorite authors. He is a writer of enigmatic fiction with strange and conflicted characters (e.g. the holy and profane Godric, an unsaintly, Saint Brendan, and the unlikable religious charlatan Lou Bebb), as well as sermons and theological musings, and poignant memoirs which wrestle with darkness, grace and calling.
A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory is vintage Buechner. Quite literally, in fact. Most of this book is culled from the Buechner canon with selections from The Sacred Journey, The Clown in the Belfry, Beyond Words, A Room Called Remember, Secrets in the Dark, Telling Secrets. However, the opening chapter, "The Gates of Pain," is an unpublished lecture he gave, describing ways we can best steward our pain.
I typically am not fond of books of 'selections,' as they wrest passages from their context, catalog, and put them on display, like the bones of an ancient man in a museum. It is so much better to experience a book (and the person!) with its joints and sinews, muscle and skin, passion and intellect, embodied the way its Author intended. That being said, the themes of pain, loss and memory haunt Buechner's works and these selections are well chosen. The lion's share comes from just two works, with large swaths from The Eyes of the Heart and Beyond Words and supplemented by the Sacred Journey and the other books.
The book is broken into two principal parts. Part 1 describes pain (chapters 1 and 2) and part 2, memory (chapters 3-6). A third section of the book posts shorter reflections on secrets, grace, depression, death and the ways God speaks.
Buechner begins the "The Gates of Pain" by describing an episode related to his father's alcoholism during his childhood. Someone had told him after hearing the story in a talk he gave, "You have been a good steward of your pain" (16). The essay weaves our universal experience of pain, with the parable of the talents inviting each of us to trade life, what we've been given—joy and sorrow—with those around us, inviting us to likewise steward our pain. "What does it mean to trade? I think it means to give what you have in reutrn for what you need. You give of yourself, and in return you receive something from other selves to whom you give"(26-27).
Buechner tells of an out-of-town friend who showed up unannounced to sit with him as he was consumed by his daughter's struggle with anorexia (27-28). He challenges each us to learn to not only share uncontainable joys but to open up the door into our pain, share our struggle and allow God's miraculous healing to enter our lives (28). Jesus doesn't come to us in his own flesh but through the guise of the other, so, Buechner contends, trading pain, allows us to experience His healing presence. "Joy is the end of it. Through the gates of pain we enter into joy" (32).
The second chapter is the passage in The Sacred Journey that describes Buechner's father's suicide and its aftermath.
It is probably fitting that as I read part 2 on memory, I was remembering passages and people I had read before. Buechner remembers pain, loss, relationships with friends and family and the way his father haunts his life. He describes the interplay between hope and remembrance, between hope and expectation.
One of the gifts that Buechner has given his readers and the church, is a reflective understanding of how pain shapes our journey. But not just pain. There are also the feeble ways God's grace breaks into our lives, bringing hope, healing, and wholeness. As fantastical though it seems.
The world we are living in is filled with walking wounded. Broken relationships, news cycles dominated by natural disasters, racial violence, sexual harassment, and assault. Even so, come Lord Jesus. In the meantime, we need friends to come and share the journey with us and so mediate Christ's presence to us. Buechner testifies to the power of sharing our pain with others and has shown us how to trade pain in his prose.
This is a good book. Even if you have most of it in other forms on your shelf, as I do, "The Gates of Pain" is worth reading and reflecting upon. I give this four stars. -★★★★
Notice of material connection: I received a copy of this book from Handlebar Media in exchange for my honest review
A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory is vintage Buechner. Quite literally, in fact. Most of this book is culled from the Buechner canon with selections from The Sacred Journey, The Clown in the Belfry, Beyond Words, A Room Called Remember, Secrets in the Dark, Telling Secrets. However, the opening chapter, "The Gates of Pain," is an unpublished lecture he gave, describing ways we can best steward our pain.
I typically am not fond of books of 'selections,' as they wrest passages from their context, catalog, and put them on display, like the bones of an ancient man in a museum. It is so much better to experience a book (and the person!) with its joints and sinews, muscle and skin, passion and intellect, embodied the way its Author intended. That being said, the themes of pain, loss and memory haunt Buechner's works and these selections are well chosen. The lion's share comes from just two works, with large swaths from The Eyes of the Heart and Beyond Words and supplemented by the Sacred Journey and the other books.
The book is broken into two principal parts. Part 1 describes pain (chapters 1 and 2) and part 2, memory (chapters 3-6). A third section of the book posts shorter reflections on secrets, grace, depression, death and the ways God speaks.
Buechner begins the "The Gates of Pain" by describing an episode related to his father's alcoholism during his childhood. Someone had told him after hearing the story in a talk he gave, "You have been a good steward of your pain" (16). The essay weaves our universal experience of pain, with the parable of the talents inviting each of us to trade life, what we've been given—joy and sorrow—with those around us, inviting us to likewise steward our pain. "What does it mean to trade? I think it means to give what you have in reutrn for what you need. You give of yourself, and in return you receive something from other selves to whom you give"(26-27).
Buechner tells of an out-of-town friend who showed up unannounced to sit with him as he was consumed by his daughter's struggle with anorexia (27-28). He challenges each us to learn to not only share uncontainable joys but to open up the door into our pain, share our struggle and allow God's miraculous healing to enter our lives (28). Jesus doesn't come to us in his own flesh but through the guise of the other, so, Buechner contends, trading pain, allows us to experience His healing presence. "Joy is the end of it. Through the gates of pain we enter into joy" (32).
The second chapter is the passage in The Sacred Journey that describes Buechner's father's suicide and its aftermath.
It is probably fitting that as I read part 2 on memory, I was remembering passages and people I had read before. Buechner remembers pain, loss, relationships with friends and family and the way his father haunts his life. He describes the interplay between hope and remembrance, between hope and expectation.
To remember my life is to remember the countless times I might have given up, gone undr, when humanly speaking I might have gotten lost beyond the power of any to find me. But I didn't. I have not given up. And each of you, with all the memories you have and the tales you could tell, you have also not given up. You also are survivors and are here. And what does that tell us, our surviving? It tells us that weak as we are, a strength beyond our strength has pulled us through at least this far, at lest to this day. Foolish as we are, a wisdom beyond our wisdom has flickered up just often enough to light us if not on the right path through the forest, at least to a path that leads us forward, that is bearable. Faint of heart as we are, a love beyond power to love has kept our hearts alive. (61-62).
One of the gifts that Buechner has given his readers and the church, is a reflective understanding of how pain shapes our journey. But not just pain. There are also the feeble ways God's grace breaks into our lives, bringing hope, healing, and wholeness. As fantastical though it seems.
The world we are living in is filled with walking wounded. Broken relationships, news cycles dominated by natural disasters, racial violence, sexual harassment, and assault. Even so, come Lord Jesus. In the meantime, we need friends to come and share the journey with us and so mediate Christ's presence to us. Buechner testifies to the power of sharing our pain with others and has shown us how to trade pain in his prose.
This is a good book. Even if you have most of it in other forms on your shelf, as I do, "The Gates of Pain" is worth reading and reflecting upon. I give this four stars. -★★★★
Notice of material connection: I received a copy of this book from Handlebar Media in exchange for my honest review
October 9, 2017
I’ve become a curious thing, a fan of Frederick Buechner without having read many of his books. I’ve seen his quotes posted online or read other authors as they referred to him. It’s only been in the past year that I’ve jumped into reading his books myself and enjoying this invitation he offers to quiet contemplation and thoughtful consideration of life and faith and believing God even when we’re in pain. Zondervan’s newest releases of Buechner’s spiritual memoirs, The Remarkable Ordinary and Crazy, Holy Grace, are part of that discovery for me.
Each of these books collects essays and lectures Buechner gave in the past, some of them never-before published and other just shared anew. In each of these books, Buechner shares a little about his life and how He saw God at work in it, even in his father’s suicide when Frederick was a boy, even in family tensions and the hushing up of the past, even with his daughter’s anorexia, his brother’s death, and his own depression. In all of these things, he reminds us to listen for God. He says, “We cannot live our lives constantly looking back, listening back, lest we be turned to pillars of longing and regret, but to live without listening at all is to live deaf to the fullness of the music. Sometimes we avoid listening for fear of what we may hear, sometimes for fear that we may hear nothing at all but the empty rattle of our own feet on the pavement…..but He says he is with us on our journeys. He says he has been with us since each of our journeys began. Listen for him. Listen to the sweet and bitter airs of your present and your past for the sound of him” ( A Crazy, Holy Grace).
The Remarkable Ordinary is my favorite Buechner book so far, particularly his writings on story and Christ’s parables and how we can learn so much about God by slowing down and listening and looking in the most ordinary parts of our most ordinary days. He says, “joy is knowing that this is true from your stomach. Knowing that even though you see only through a glass darkly, even though lots of things happen—wars and peacemaking, hunger and homelessness—joy is knowing, even for a moment, that underneath everything are the everlasting arms.”
I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review and the opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
Each of these books collects essays and lectures Buechner gave in the past, some of them never-before published and other just shared anew. In each of these books, Buechner shares a little about his life and how He saw God at work in it, even in his father’s suicide when Frederick was a boy, even in family tensions and the hushing up of the past, even with his daughter’s anorexia, his brother’s death, and his own depression. In all of these things, he reminds us to listen for God. He says, “We cannot live our lives constantly looking back, listening back, lest we be turned to pillars of longing and regret, but to live without listening at all is to live deaf to the fullness of the music. Sometimes we avoid listening for fear of what we may hear, sometimes for fear that we may hear nothing at all but the empty rattle of our own feet on the pavement…..but He says he is with us on our journeys. He says he has been with us since each of our journeys began. Listen for him. Listen to the sweet and bitter airs of your present and your past for the sound of him” ( A Crazy, Holy Grace).
The Remarkable Ordinary is my favorite Buechner book so far, particularly his writings on story and Christ’s parables and how we can learn so much about God by slowing down and listening and looking in the most ordinary parts of our most ordinary days. He says, “joy is knowing that this is true from your stomach. Knowing that even though you see only through a glass darkly, even though lots of things happen—wars and peacemaking, hunger and homelessness—joy is knowing, even for a moment, that underneath everything are the everlasting arms.”
I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review and the opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
October 4, 2025
I devoured this book (a recommendation and gift from my father-in-law) in less than 24 hours… the essays are so beautifully written and moving, several passages brought me to tears. Recommend to those walking through a painful season and/or just for the writing—it’s exquisite.
March 2, 2019
This is beautifully written--masterfully written, even--and slides from witty to wise, from personal to spiritual with such skill that you hardly notice it. I loved it. Why four and not five stars? It's very short, it doesn't really offer any answers or steps to take, and it gets confused on its theological position at times. But if you're just looking for a beautiful, honest musing on pain and faith, just something to stir up your soul (and not something to answer questions or increase clarity) then this is a great, cathartic read.
November 9, 2020
This was my first Buechner book, but it won’t be the last. Buechner has a way of speaking about Christianity without using trite Christian phrases.
November 14, 2017
While reading this, I texted a friend that Buechner was holding my hand through a time of emotional pain. That is what I sense when reading his works. He has obviously walked through his own struggles and pain and because of that, he writes to reveal God's crazy, holy grace that comes to us through suffering and trials. He explores what eternity might be. He discusses loss and grief and searching for meaning and acceptance. I love reading his writing over and over again with only one exception...I didn't enjoy his version of Jacob's life story.
Buechner writes, "When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who your are....For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost." For me, he will never be lost.
Buechner writes, "When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who your are....For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost." For me, he will never be lost.
April 6, 2020
Buechner's meditative lyricism regarding his own life's harrowing pain subtly spoke to the potentially holy, potentially transformative power of pain and memory. A quick, poetic read.
Some noteworthy lines:
- "Either life is holy with meaning or life doesn't mean a damn thing. You pay your money and you take your choice. Only never take your choice too easily, of course. Never assume because you have taken it one way today, you may not take it another way tomorrow" (134).
- "The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of reality is that the same steel that secures your life against being destroyed secures your life also against being opened up and transformed by the holy power that life itself comes from" (41).
- "...[there's] the serious possibility that through flaws and fissures in the bedrock harshness of things, there still wells up from time to time, out of a deeper substratum of reality, a kind of crazy, holy grace" (41).
Some noteworthy lines:
- "Either life is holy with meaning or life doesn't mean a damn thing. You pay your money and you take your choice. Only never take your choice too easily, of course. Never assume because you have taken it one way today, you may not take it another way tomorrow" (134).
- "The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of reality is that the same steel that secures your life against being destroyed secures your life also against being opened up and transformed by the holy power that life itself comes from" (41).
- "...[there's] the serious possibility that through flaws and fissures in the bedrock harshness of things, there still wells up from time to time, out of a deeper substratum of reality, a kind of crazy, holy grace" (41).
May 15, 2021
I think I must have cried at least eight different times while reading this. Buechner speaks to the soul. He understands the shape of darkness, and is not hasty to banish it. Rather, like an old friend, he sits with his reader in the midst of it, opens his heart, and shows his own wounds. Ultimately, he reminds the reader that the light will break through. But until then, he's comfortable sitting with you while you wait.
The only hang up would be that there are repetitive stories in this book. Which indicates an editing problem. Normally this would really frustrate me, the reason I still think it's worth five stars is because this book captures a man who is in the thick of it. Those who have gone through as much loss as he has, know that stories and memories come back into the narrative continually. These are the words of a man who is considering his long years, and still finding new ways that they all fit together. It seems sincere, and not at all contrived to be a finished statement on life. If that's what you are looking for, there are plenty of authors who can lie to you. Buechner won't do that.
The only hang up would be that there are repetitive stories in this book. Which indicates an editing problem. Normally this would really frustrate me, the reason I still think it's worth five stars is because this book captures a man who is in the thick of it. Those who have gone through as much loss as he has, know that stories and memories come back into the narrative continually. These are the words of a man who is considering his long years, and still finding new ways that they all fit together. It seems sincere, and not at all contrived to be a finished statement on life. If that's what you are looking for, there are plenty of authors who can lie to you. Buechner won't do that.
July 31, 2024
A collection of essays and excerpts from various books Buechner wrote - some of which I had already read. At times this book made me *deeply* and profoundly sad, at other times I was just trying to get through it. I am a big FB fan in general but I didn’t get much from this.
December 31, 2021
One of my favorite reads this year. Buechner’s beautiful articulation of pain and grief have deeply moved me.
June 1, 2023
Why have I not discovered Buechner earlier? I have a guess that his words aren't as orthodox as some would want them to be. But his words are incredibly beautiful, and have a way of cracking your soul wide open that God's truth can penetrate to the deepest parts of you. I now want to read everything he wrote.
December 31, 2024
Overall, turned off by the sense that the writing aims to sound guru-ish without causing any offense. Still, deeply personal content with a helpful call to face and feel the reality of suffering and loss.
October 19, 2017
Reading this by Frederick Buechner was a profound literary experience. It has become my favorite book.
October 19, 2017
Author: Frederick Buechner
Title: A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory
Publisher: Zondervan
Year of Publication: 2017
Writing of Frederick Buechner, Philip Yancey leads readers to believe that his writings inform the very nature of how to live: “Frederick Buechner doesn’t just show us how to write; he shows us how to live.”
At this point in my reading career, I have read three works by Buechner: Godric, The Remarkable Ordinary: How to Stop, Look, and Listen to Life, and now A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory. While I do not intend to disparage this simple one-liner from Yancey, whose collective works and ideas I have enjoyed for decades, I patently disagree with the premise. After reading this tome, I do not feel that I am better equipped to know “how” to live. Perhaps this read solidified that I might just not enjoy the genre of memoir as much as I thought I did.
So much of what Buechner writes seems to be random extrapolations of crucial moments in his life. I do understand that he has felt pain, particularly in his father’s unexpected suicide when he was quite young and the upheaval of his life as his mother spirited him off to Bermuda afterwards. The Remarkable Ordinary also built upon these events, so reading it all over again was a little disappointing. Both works also include a poignant memory of seeing a priest dressed in black, wearing a broad-rimmed black hat like a rector out of Lawrence Sterne. In that moment, Buechner felt connected to God—a sentiment I enjoy—but needlessly repeated from The Remarkable Ordinary.
To his credit, the author weaves a story about pain that will resonate with those experiencing agony. Especially since hurt is so ubiquitous and those struggling often are tempted to ask, “Is belief real?” or “Is God really there?” In my own life I have felt the crushing talons of pain squeezing the very fabric of my being. Perhaps many of us were taught to sanitize our pain by quietly tucking it away, forgetting it in some dark recess so that it will not intrude on life. Buechner contends that his difficulty with pain arose from the fact that his family dealt with pain in this fashion—they simply shut it out. For example, his mother, whose vibrancy was well remembered from her youth, became a recluse due to his father’s suicide and two failed marriages. Nonetheless, she lived to a ripe old age and never really came into a place of joy. Fortunately for Buechner he entertained therapy later in life and felt that he had enjoyed some breakthrough, finally being able to cry about his father’s suicide.
The author certainly has a poetic wit about himself. Note how he describes his time in Bermuda and his grandmother’s consternation of having moved there in the aftermath of his father’s suicide:
This idea is a reinvention of what The Remarkable Ordinary labeled as the "subterranean presence of grace." Given this crazy grace, Buechner maintains that the gift to us is that joy is the end of the entire process. Or, more to the point, joy can only be entered through the gates of pain. I find solace in that sentiment, as I hope that so much of the pain experienced is a conduit through which individuals can experience God’s joy. The Apostle Paul’s eloquent words in his second letter to the church at Corinth seem especially fitting, “Blessed is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles so that we may be able to comfort those experiencing any trouble with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” [2 Cor 1:3-4, NET]
We should frequently remind ourselves of the crazy, holy grace that exists and that is available to us. Those struggling with pain can come to the conclusion that we are here today by grace and that is testament to the fact that our survival is a gift.
If you know someone in pain—this is a good book for them, especially if they have not read Buechner before.
Title: A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory
Publisher: Zondervan
Year of Publication: 2017
Writing of Frederick Buechner, Philip Yancey leads readers to believe that his writings inform the very nature of how to live: “Frederick Buechner doesn’t just show us how to write; he shows us how to live.”
At this point in my reading career, I have read three works by Buechner: Godric, The Remarkable Ordinary: How to Stop, Look, and Listen to Life, and now A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory. While I do not intend to disparage this simple one-liner from Yancey, whose collective works and ideas I have enjoyed for decades, I patently disagree with the premise. After reading this tome, I do not feel that I am better equipped to know “how” to live. Perhaps this read solidified that I might just not enjoy the genre of memoir as much as I thought I did.
So much of what Buechner writes seems to be random extrapolations of crucial moments in his life. I do understand that he has felt pain, particularly in his father’s unexpected suicide when he was quite young and the upheaval of his life as his mother spirited him off to Bermuda afterwards. The Remarkable Ordinary also built upon these events, so reading it all over again was a little disappointing. Both works also include a poignant memory of seeing a priest dressed in black, wearing a broad-rimmed black hat like a rector out of Lawrence Sterne. In that moment, Buechner felt connected to God—a sentiment I enjoy—but needlessly repeated from The Remarkable Ordinary.
To his credit, the author weaves a story about pain that will resonate with those experiencing agony. Especially since hurt is so ubiquitous and those struggling often are tempted to ask, “Is belief real?” or “Is God really there?” In my own life I have felt the crushing talons of pain squeezing the very fabric of my being. Perhaps many of us were taught to sanitize our pain by quietly tucking it away, forgetting it in some dark recess so that it will not intrude on life. Buechner contends that his difficulty with pain arose from the fact that his family dealt with pain in this fashion—they simply shut it out. For example, his mother, whose vibrancy was well remembered from her youth, became a recluse due to his father’s suicide and two failed marriages. Nonetheless, she lived to a ripe old age and never really came into a place of joy. Fortunately for Buechner he entertained therapy later in life and felt that he had enjoyed some breakthrough, finally being able to cry about his father’s suicide.
The author certainly has a poetic wit about himself. Note how he describes his time in Bermuda and his grandmother’s consternation of having moved there in the aftermath of his father’s suicide:
I think it did dismiss anything like the serious possibility that through flaws and fissures in the bedrock harshness of things, there still wells up from time to time, out of a deeper substratum of reality, a kind of crazy, holy grace.
This idea is a reinvention of what The Remarkable Ordinary labeled as the "subterranean presence of grace." Given this crazy grace, Buechner maintains that the gift to us is that joy is the end of the entire process. Or, more to the point, joy can only be entered through the gates of pain. I find solace in that sentiment, as I hope that so much of the pain experienced is a conduit through which individuals can experience God’s joy. The Apostle Paul’s eloquent words in his second letter to the church at Corinth seem especially fitting, “Blessed is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles so that we may be able to comfort those experiencing any trouble with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” [2 Cor 1:3-4, NET]
We should frequently remind ourselves of the crazy, holy grace that exists and that is available to us. Those struggling with pain can come to the conclusion that we are here today by grace and that is testament to the fact that our survival is a gift.
If you know someone in pain—this is a good book for them, especially if they have not read Buechner before.
May 19, 2022
Read my full review here: http://mimi-cyberlibrarian.blogspot.c...
I can’t imagine my writing a book blog without including something by the master of spiritual writing, Frederick Buechner.
Buechner is now 96 years old, and has written in his lifetime more than 30 books, fiction, theological, and spiritual. This is not the first of his books that I have read, but apparently the first that I have written about. We are discussing it in my spiritual growth book group next Tuesday.
A Crazy, Holy Grace is a compendium of Buechner’s writings on pain and loss. He discusses “the power of hidden secrets, loss of a dearly beloved, letting go, resurrection from the ruins, peace, and listening to the quiet voice of God. And he reveals that pain and sorrow can be a treasure—an amazing grace. Buechner says that loss will come to all of us, but he writes that we are not alone. Crazy and unreal as it may sometimes seem, God’s holy, healing grace is always present and available if we are still enough to receive it.”
I came to Buechner’s book following a very bad week.. My friend’s 40-year-old daughter had died of cancer. She had a two-year-old son, and her death brought back for me all the pain I had suffered many years ago when my 41-year-old husband died, leaving me with a two-year-old, as well as two older children. That sort of pain never leaves a person, and Buechner speaks to that type of pain as he describes the suicide of his father and the resultant anxiety all these many years later.
I just kept underlining passages that meant a lot to me personally. An example. “If God started stepping in and setting things right, what happens to us? We cease to be human beings. We cease to be free.” He goes on: “But I sensed the passionate restraint in the silence of God, which was both silent and yet eloquent.” He closes the chapter: “Joy is the end of it. Through the gates of pain we enter into joy.”
I especially appreciated the final chapter: Reflections on Secrets, Grace, and the Way God Speaks. I like how Buechner is liberal in the way he speaks of God. A non-believer in the word “God” can find as much to appreciate in this final chapter, as the passionate evangelical. In this chapter, he speaks of death, suicide, funerals, and each person’s sacred journey. “In other words, all our stories are in the end one story, one vast story about being human, being together, being here.”
A Crazy, Holy Grace meant a lot to me because I had a lot of anxiety that needed calming. His words can have a powerful impact on hearts in need of grace and peace.
I can’t imagine my writing a book blog without including something by the master of spiritual writing, Frederick Buechner.
Buechner is now 96 years old, and has written in his lifetime more than 30 books, fiction, theological, and spiritual. This is not the first of his books that I have read, but apparently the first that I have written about. We are discussing it in my spiritual growth book group next Tuesday.
A Crazy, Holy Grace is a compendium of Buechner’s writings on pain and loss. He discusses “the power of hidden secrets, loss of a dearly beloved, letting go, resurrection from the ruins, peace, and listening to the quiet voice of God. And he reveals that pain and sorrow can be a treasure—an amazing grace. Buechner says that loss will come to all of us, but he writes that we are not alone. Crazy and unreal as it may sometimes seem, God’s holy, healing grace is always present and available if we are still enough to receive it.”
I came to Buechner’s book following a very bad week.. My friend’s 40-year-old daughter had died of cancer. She had a two-year-old son, and her death brought back for me all the pain I had suffered many years ago when my 41-year-old husband died, leaving me with a two-year-old, as well as two older children. That sort of pain never leaves a person, and Buechner speaks to that type of pain as he describes the suicide of his father and the resultant anxiety all these many years later.
I just kept underlining passages that meant a lot to me personally. An example. “If God started stepping in and setting things right, what happens to us? We cease to be human beings. We cease to be free.” He goes on: “But I sensed the passionate restraint in the silence of God, which was both silent and yet eloquent.” He closes the chapter: “Joy is the end of it. Through the gates of pain we enter into joy.”
I especially appreciated the final chapter: Reflections on Secrets, Grace, and the Way God Speaks. I like how Buechner is liberal in the way he speaks of God. A non-believer in the word “God” can find as much to appreciate in this final chapter, as the passionate evangelical. In this chapter, he speaks of death, suicide, funerals, and each person’s sacred journey. “In other words, all our stories are in the end one story, one vast story about being human, being together, being here.”
A Crazy, Holy Grace meant a lot to me because I had a lot of anxiety that needed calming. His words can have a powerful impact on hearts in need of grace and peace.
November 19, 2017
This book, it seems to me, must be a cathartic journey for Buechner, reminiscing about so many events in his past. He tells the story of his father's suicide (again) as well as that of meeting the priest wearing black gaiters (again) and that of his brother crying in Bermuda (again and again) and his mother's comments about the gardener passing by (again). He spends pages describing books in his Magic Kingdom, as he calls his office/library.
Included, from time to time, is an insight about remembering and perhaps another about healing. We all experience pain, he writes, and handle it in ways that are not good. Buechner wants us to be good stewards of our pain. He writes of “the importance of being able to talk and live out of your pain … of pain becoming a treasure...” (32) These are good insights but his rambling stories, memories of events from his past, greatly over shadow and obscure them.
I am not sure there is much of value in this book for evangelical Christians. When writing about what happens after you die, for example, Buechner suggests “you are given back your life again...” He had three reasons for believing it. First, if he were God that's what he'd do. Second, he had a hunch it was true. Third, because Jesus said we aren't dead forever, referencing what Jesus said to the thief on the cross. (76-77) Buechner made no mention of Paul and his New Testament insights into the life after this one.
I have just read the two latest books by Buechner in the past few days. I don't think I'll read another one by him. There was too much repetition of stories. I was not surprised to find that the footnotes indicated much of this book came from earlier ones by him. Also, many of the stories didn't appear to have much to do with the theme of the book. It seems Buechner is still trying to make sense of his father's suicide, some 80 years ago, and everything else that has happened in his life.
Perhaps there is more to Buechner's faith experience than he is willing to tell. Near the end of this book he says he fears that if he writes too much about how he has experienced holiness, “then I risk being written off as some sort of embarrassment by most of the people I know and like.” (116)
I received a complimentary copy of this book through Handlebar. My comments are an independent and honest review.
Included, from time to time, is an insight about remembering and perhaps another about healing. We all experience pain, he writes, and handle it in ways that are not good. Buechner wants us to be good stewards of our pain. He writes of “the importance of being able to talk and live out of your pain … of pain becoming a treasure...” (32) These are good insights but his rambling stories, memories of events from his past, greatly over shadow and obscure them.
I am not sure there is much of value in this book for evangelical Christians. When writing about what happens after you die, for example, Buechner suggests “you are given back your life again...” He had three reasons for believing it. First, if he were God that's what he'd do. Second, he had a hunch it was true. Third, because Jesus said we aren't dead forever, referencing what Jesus said to the thief on the cross. (76-77) Buechner made no mention of Paul and his New Testament insights into the life after this one.
I have just read the two latest books by Buechner in the past few days. I don't think I'll read another one by him. There was too much repetition of stories. I was not surprised to find that the footnotes indicated much of this book came from earlier ones by him. Also, many of the stories didn't appear to have much to do with the theme of the book. It seems Buechner is still trying to make sense of his father's suicide, some 80 years ago, and everything else that has happened in his life.
Perhaps there is more to Buechner's faith experience than he is willing to tell. Near the end of this book he says he fears that if he writes too much about how he has experienced holiness, “then I risk being written off as some sort of embarrassment by most of the people I know and like.” (116)
I received a complimentary copy of this book through Handlebar. My comments are an independent and honest review.
December 1, 2017
In 'A Crazy, Holy Grace' sometimes I found his thoughts intriguing or an original way of thinking of something and other times he just seemed confused about God, Jesus and the afterlife. He quotes Scripture so he's read at least part of the Bible but I don't know if he doesn't believe what it says about Heaven and Hell, doesn't want to believe it or views it as a metaphor. Sometimes he seems hopeful and reminds us that God is there and we're not alone and other times he doubts and questions. He mentions that Jesus was human and could have been wrong sometimes but was also more than human. I would say Christians believe Jesus was also fully God while being fully human, so He wouldn't have gotten anything wrong. There was also a longer section where he's imagining conversing with his dead grandmother and talking about what happens after you die and her "answers" don't sound at all like what the Bible says, including it sounding like everyone's there, which if she's talking about Heaven, that won't be the case. It was a strange section. He also mentions the god Ganesh and praying to him and using a Ouija board, which he mentioned he didn't like but not about the dangers of it. I didn't like this book.
There was some overlap between the two books with him mentioning the same memories sometimes. He also swore sometimes, which I didn't like. Both were pretty easy reading as it just felt like he was talking to you over coffee. I would recommend 'The Remarkable Ordinary' but not 'A Crazy, Holy Grace.'
I received these books from Handlebar in exchange for an honest review.
There was some overlap between the two books with him mentioning the same memories sometimes. He also swore sometimes, which I didn't like. Both were pretty easy reading as it just felt like he was talking to you over coffee. I would recommend 'The Remarkable Ordinary' but not 'A Crazy, Holy Grace.'
I received these books from Handlebar in exchange for an honest review.
November 8, 2017
Pain and Hope Shape Our Lives
Our lives are filled with loss, pain, memory and hope. Beuchner writes poignantly about each of these emotions in his life.
Perhaps the hardest part to read is the first chapters on pain. Beuchner’s father committed suicide when Frederick was a young boy. For many years he couldn’t grieve, pushing the memory down. Because the memory was pushed down so hard it haunted him until finally he was able to talk about it. Now he writes beautifully about it. If you’ve lost someone under difficult circumstances, his story will resonate with you.
The other painful story is of his daughter’s struggle with anorexia and his difficultly coping with it. He recalls a friend coming to sit with him during this trying time. It reminds us how sometimes just being there for someone is enough.
At the end of the book Beuchner focuses on memory and what comes next. He conjures up memories of his grandmother. Although she has been dead for many years he feels close to her and has wonderful imaginative dialogues about the meaning of life and remembering.
If you struggle with loss, this is a good book. I particularly enjoyed the section of reflections at the end, short musings that give you something to meditate on.
I received this book from Handlebar Publishing for this review.
Our lives are filled with loss, pain, memory and hope. Beuchner writes poignantly about each of these emotions in his life.
Perhaps the hardest part to read is the first chapters on pain. Beuchner’s father committed suicide when Frederick was a young boy. For many years he couldn’t grieve, pushing the memory down. Because the memory was pushed down so hard it haunted him until finally he was able to talk about it. Now he writes beautifully about it. If you’ve lost someone under difficult circumstances, his story will resonate with you.
The other painful story is of his daughter’s struggle with anorexia and his difficultly coping with it. He recalls a friend coming to sit with him during this trying time. It reminds us how sometimes just being there for someone is enough.
At the end of the book Beuchner focuses on memory and what comes next. He conjures up memories of his grandmother. Although she has been dead for many years he feels close to her and has wonderful imaginative dialogues about the meaning of life and remembering.
If you struggle with loss, this is a good book. I particularly enjoyed the section of reflections at the end, short musings that give you something to meditate on.
I received this book from Handlebar Publishing for this review.
December 13, 2017
Memories are made for this…
I had never read any of Beuchner’s books before this one, but a number of my pastor colleagues have been referring to his works for years. This book intrigued me because of its title – A Crazy, Holy Grace. Throughout my pastoral ministry, I have seen this in action, especially among folks who have had tragic childhoods or heart-rending grief. Beuchner’s book is an ideal resource for people who are struggling with the pain of a great loss, as well as their faith in God.
Beuchner tackles grief from the basis of his own heartbreaking family experiences. He expresses the reality of his painful burdens and focuses in on the purpose of memory in the healing process. He converses casually with the reader and doesn’t come across as holier-than-thou. The chapter which touched me most was the one called ‘The Magic of Memory,’ where he writes an imaginary conversation with his deceased grandmother. It’s a very touching moment and one that gets to the very heart of dealing with the hurt of loss.
The book would make a great small group study or to help a grief therapy group find coping mechanisms. Anyone who loves C. S. Lewis books will be delighted with excellent work of Beuchner. And now that I have read this first one, I look forward to reading more of his writing.
I had never read any of Beuchner’s books before this one, but a number of my pastor colleagues have been referring to his works for years. This book intrigued me because of its title – A Crazy, Holy Grace. Throughout my pastoral ministry, I have seen this in action, especially among folks who have had tragic childhoods or heart-rending grief. Beuchner’s book is an ideal resource for people who are struggling with the pain of a great loss, as well as their faith in God.
Beuchner tackles grief from the basis of his own heartbreaking family experiences. He expresses the reality of his painful burdens and focuses in on the purpose of memory in the healing process. He converses casually with the reader and doesn’t come across as holier-than-thou. The chapter which touched me most was the one called ‘The Magic of Memory,’ where he writes an imaginary conversation with his deceased grandmother. It’s a very touching moment and one that gets to the very heart of dealing with the hurt of loss.
The book would make a great small group study or to help a grief therapy group find coping mechanisms. Anyone who loves C. S. Lewis books will be delighted with excellent work of Beuchner. And now that I have read this first one, I look forward to reading more of his writing.
November 30, 2017
In A Crazy, Holy Grace: The Healing Power of Pain and Memory, Buechner looks at the age-old question: when pain is real, why is God silent? Buechner has truly been a "steward" of his pain, a remarkable idea he brings forth in this book. Since the loss of his father at a young age, Buechner has learned hands-on what it means to steward painful things that happen during the course of our lives, rather than trying to forget painful events or feeling trapped by them. He writes that God does not sow the pain, he does not make the pain happen, but he looks to us to harvest treasure from the pain. If we bury the pain and don't face it, our life shrinks. He writes that miracles can happen when we are willing to open the door into our pain, and share out of the depths of our lives. I couldn't agree more. When I have been willing to be vulnerable with others, and share the truths I have learned from the depths of my deepest pain, people have come forward to say, "me, too." That is the miracle - to know that you're not alone.
February 29, 2020
Buechner remains one of my favorites. Some like his brooding writing, some don't. Starting off lent with this book was a nice reminder of the pain we all go through in life. Buechner gently then gives the reminder that it us who chooses if that defines or shapes our life journey. The question is posed, “When pain is real, why is God silent?” To answer that question, ‘Crazy Holy Grace’ is separated into 3 parts. Each goes through reflections and memories of lost relationships, friendships,death, joy, and sorrow. Something we all undoubtedly have been through. The book then continues on how,in Buechner's terms, we can be "good stewards of personal pain" and where growth can then be found rather than bottling it up inside (something I and many others I am sure are working on). Last, Buechner tries to remind the reader that even though there is pain in our lives, God's grace (big and small) can break into our lives which brings hope, healing, wholeness, and maybe even some happiness in our times of need. Good book and good way to start my lenten journey this year.
June 16, 2022
As soon as I finished reading Buechner's The Remarkable Ordinary I began A Crazy, Holy Grace. Reading these books was like talking with a friend when you're going through a tough time. One offers the hope of looking at your life, the past and the present and watching and listening for what God is doing in it. The second offers a companion for regret, for loss, for unanswered questions.
The passages about his brother, their past, and the days leading up to Jamie's death were some of the most tender of both books, so transparent, with no pretty words or glossing over or explaining-just the entire experience as they lived it. In describing it this way, it allows the reader to feel the trajectory and to sense the grace and hope that upheld their experiences even in the darkest moments.
I'm not always comfortable when reading Buechner but as I said in a review of Remarkable Ordinary, he makes me think about my faith and my life. He makes me wonder and ask questions. He trusts the reader to meet him at the throne of grace.
The passages about his brother, their past, and the days leading up to Jamie's death were some of the most tender of both books, so transparent, with no pretty words or glossing over or explaining-just the entire experience as they lived it. In describing it this way, it allows the reader to feel the trajectory and to sense the grace and hope that upheld their experiences even in the darkest moments.
I'm not always comfortable when reading Buechner but as I said in a review of Remarkable Ordinary, he makes me think about my faith and my life. He makes me wonder and ask questions. He trusts the reader to meet him at the throne of grace.
November 5, 2017
If you have read Frederick Buechner's earlier works including "Sacred Journey" and "The Eyes of the Heart," you've already encountered the majority of the material that was culled into "A Crazy, Holy Grace." But in addition to one wholly new chapter of content (from all I can tell, and I've read all of his work), it's very interesting and impactful to read this collection of his writings on pain and memory assembled in this way. The overall effect is a greater sense of understanding of the arc of his story (not only his father's suicide, which is threaded throughout so much of his non-fiction and even fiction such as "The Wizard's Tide" but also his daughter's anorexia). Highly recommended to long-time Buechner fans, or as an introduction to his work. Kudos to Zondervan Publishing for working to get this into print.
November 27, 2017
Much of this book is material already published elsewhere. As I am a Buechner fan already, I didn't mind the re-read and there aren't too many books I do enjoy reading again. The material in chapter one, "The Gates of Pain" was a very interesting and helpful chapter. He shares the stories of his father's suicide and how his family dealt with the pain, as well as other non-healthy ways we can deal with pain. The most memorable quote for me is: "Another way of dealing with your pain is to be a good steward of it." That was a fresh way of putting it: usually, we are talking about being a good steward of our resources or our talents and gifts, not our pain. Overall, I enjoyed the book and would recommend it to new or established Buechner fans.
May 8, 2018
We share to encourage others to reflect on their own life.
By telling his life's journey, Frederick Buechner gives us a deeper understanding on life and facing our humanity.
In story form from his own lived experiences and those closest to him, he gives the reader a heartfelt, compassionate assessment of his past life and how it affects the here and now. In hope and faith into the unknown of every day. In the struggles of being and living in what life has been thrust upon him.
Let us become companions on the journey by being open to our inner self and moving toward one another. We are gifts to one another.
We begin a healing process so that one can continue on the journey and lighten our steps.
Let it begin with me.
Peace
By telling his life's journey, Frederick Buechner gives us a deeper understanding on life and facing our humanity.
In story form from his own lived experiences and those closest to him, he gives the reader a heartfelt, compassionate assessment of his past life and how it affects the here and now. In hope and faith into the unknown of every day. In the struggles of being and living in what life has been thrust upon him.
Let us become companions on the journey by being open to our inner self and moving toward one another. We are gifts to one another.
We begin a healing process so that one can continue on the journey and lighten our steps.
Let it begin with me.
Peace
December 29, 2022
It's been a painful year for me with loss, and some of these essays from Frederick Buechner sound a bit like the sermons that I've needed to hear to help me better understand the work that has begun and still continues within me. This book is mostly a compilation of other essays and sermons that Buechner has published over the years, I continue to appreciate his style and general approach to spirituality, he writes with a voice that suggests a good deal of doubt and anguish about many of the things he stands for yet, at the end of the day, a voice that continues to find its rest in hope.
December 3, 2023
I feel like I knew Buechner and he knew me. He speaks to me through every word of every one of his books that are filled with love, pain, existentialism and grace as he comes to understand his family, the several tragedies he experienced and how he grew to understand all those things through the power of his faith and love. As he says and lays bare, “when we enter the gates of pain and use the healing power of memory, we will hear God speaking, and we can take comfort and rest our weary souls in his crazy, holy grace.” I hear him in my heart and soul.
October 18, 2017
As with so much of Buechner’s work, Crazy Holy Grace sits with me and makes me wonder what he is hoping to accomplish, or is indeed accomplishing, in the writing and the reading. I was most unsure in Part I, stunned into sorrowfully numb silence in Part II, and left wondering in Part III. Perhaps that’s the crazy of Crazy Holy Grace. I’m still looking for the holy and the grace. Well, with Buechner, it’s not looking as much as waiting, which is to say it is there and will be seen in due time.
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