I had this discussion over a year ago on my blog, but thought it would be a good discussion for all of you, too. In some ways, publishing is in a state of unbelievable flux. In others, it’s utterly grounded and unshakeable. Good and bad on both sides.
But here’s what I find fascinating–and a bit worrisome. There’s a seemingless endless debate on what makes a Christian book Christian? Is it the context of the book or the faith of the author? What’s in the book or what isn’t? The tone or the specifics? Believe me, when I find myself in this debate, the answers come fast and furious and are as varied as can be. But before I share any thoughts or conclusions, I want to know what you think.
So, as a reader or a writer, what are you looking for in a book from a “Christian” publishing house? Or from a Christian writer.
What do you expect to find.
What do you expect NOT to find?
What makes a book “Christian”?
Please share your thoughts. And then I’ll let you know some of the discoveries I’ve made about this topic…and what other questions it’s led me to.
Peace!
REBECCA:
I take your point. Although, I think there’s more at stake in calling something a “Christian book” than there is in calling something “Chinese food”. (No offence to any Chinese readers! :-))
I guess I’m thinking a few things:
So often, the definition of what is a “Christian” book is very narrow, and even arbitrary. You can see this by looking at the differences in books stocked/not stocked by various Christian bookshops. Of course, the owners have a responsibility to make good choices, but what is thought to be “good” and “Christian” (or not) varies quite a bit.
Labelling things “Christian” or “not Christian” can contribute to the (often false) secular-versus-Christian mindset, causing us to think that expressions of faith in one form are more legitimate, and valuable, than others.
Will the fact that a book is not labelled “Christian” stop us reading it? Or, conversely, cause us to read it uncritically?
We have to be wise about what we read, but if we only ever read “Christian” books, we’d miss a huge opportunity to enrich and strengthen our relationship with God by finding him in other, seemingly unlikely places.
Sorry, I didn’t at all mean to imply that because a person loves Jesus, that is all that is needed to make them a good writer! I agree with you entirely about craft. I am constantly learning and practising it myself!
I just meant that it has to start with loving him. If that relationship is not a burning, living reality, anything “Christian” we try to write will be lifeless. That’s what I meant by contriving something.
And yes, it’s never an either/or proposition.
TIMOTHY:
Absolutely, there’s a world of difference between a book on gardening and a book on theology, in terms of their content, but does the fact that a book is explicitly about God make it more “Christian” than one that is not, if it has been written out of a place of faith and wanting to honour God? In one sense, yes, but in another, I would argue, no.
Here’s a parallel:
Doing the dishes can be as much an act of worship (sometimes more so, depending on where your heart is at) as singing an explicitly Christian “worship” song.
In the same way, a book written about gardening can (potentially) be as much an act of worship, and therefore entitled to the word “Christian”, as a work of theology. Or maybe I’m stretching it? 🙂
For the above reasons, I’m hesitant to call a book “Christian”.
Having said that, I understand that in the publishing world things need to be categorised, so this isn’t a clear-cut subject. And, maybe I’m being idealistic.
Thanks for the thought-provoking topic, Karen. (And sorry the lengthy comment, everyone!)
Chris,
I agree that doing the dishes can be as much of an act of worship as singing. I would even go as far as to say that doing the dishes is more of an act of worship than singing when we consider that so many churches have turned their attention entirely to praise songs and worship is forgotten. The attitude with which you do the dishes is important, but that alone doesn’t make it worship. There’s a big difference between going over to an elderly church member’s house to wash the dishes and washing the dishes in the bar down the street or even the everyday chore of putting the dishes in the dishwasher at home.
In the same fashion, we might ask what it takes to make writing a gardening book an act of service to God. I believe that requires that the book be written in such a way that it helps to carry out the mission that God has given us. If a book does that, it can rightly be called a Christian book, though from a marketing standpoint it may not be wise to limit it to Christian bookstores.
But not every book written out of a desire to honor should be called a Christian book. We should always beware of offering “strange fire”. So often in the Bible we see examples of people who thought they were worshipping God, but God rejected their worship. Not only that, he killed them. A Christian book should be written in fear of the holy God. So many times in recent years, I’ve seen books that have been passed off as Christian and the authors seem to believe they are serving God by writing them, but the book is inconsistent with the Word of God. It would have been safer for the author and publisher if they had produced a plain Jane gardening book.
Some good points, Timothy. And I think, to some degree, we might be talking at cross purposes: you’re focused on what might be required to legitimately call content “Christian”, and I’m focused on the legitimate expression of faith in all kinds of content (if that makes sense).
I’m still hesitant to call a book “Christian”, per se, but I can appreciate much of what you, and others here, are saying.
So often, the definition of what is a “Christian” book is very narrow, and even arbitrary.
I think that’s why I continue to engage in discussions like this, Chris. I don’t think the term should be narrow in one sense or arbitrary. In another sense, I think it should be very narrow.
As I said in my first post, Christians know God in a way no one else does. That’s our distinctive and that’s pretty narrow and not at all arbitrary. But how we show this distinctive has broad application. There’s no “one way.” Some can write a story with Christian characters who struggle overtly with their faith or with putting it into practice in their lives. Others might write in a symbolic way, using their characters as types of Christ to show His forgiveness and love, His redemption and mercy, or even His justice and wrath. Some might write with a desire to encourage and edify the saints and others might write to introduce the unsaved to Christ.
What I want to stand against is the idea that moral fiction (which some call clean fiction or safe fiction) is Christian fiction. That idea somehow pushed its way into the mix, it seems, but for anyone who believes the Bible, it’s clear that Christianity is not about following a list of rules (not to mention that any person espousing a different faith, including humanism, can write a moral story). It’s about a relationship with God made possible because of Christ’s sacrifice.
I think some people resist this definition of Christian fiction because they think our stories will be limited and predictable, but I don’t believe that for a moment. God is infinite and Christ’s relationship with Peter was not the same as His relationship with John, or with Judas. Why, then, can’t our stories show His character in more depth and our relationships show variation?
Becky
Great points, Rebecca. I agree with everything you’ve said!