A non-review book review: Ancient Wisdom for the Care of Souls by Ford & Wilhite
Before I get to talking about this book, this is a disclaimer: everything is kicking off with the next phase of my treatment tomorrow (Sept 17), and I have no idea how it’s going to go. This simply means that you might not hear from me for a couple weeks, or perhaps a month. I am exceedingly grateful for all of you who return time and time again to read the nonsense I peddle, and I’ll look forward to posting an update again when I’m able.
I’m not going to write this review like I would the countless reviews I’ve written for journals. For one thing, I paid for the book with my own money. That’s why this review lives here and not in some journal you don’t have access to. For another thing, my energy is limited right now, so I sadly won’t be as thorough as I perhaps first wanted.
Here I’m giving you the popular-level low-down, which I’ll organize under a few simple headings. This sort of post might not interest some of you, and that’s totally ok! But I need a break from talking about my health, and this is a topic near and dear to my heart.
What is this book about?
Thankfully, Ford and Wilhite (and their editor) accede to the common request that a book’s title (and subtitle) be simple and true concerning the content. This is a book about pastoral practice, and several church fathers’ works are brought to bear on the various aspects of pastoral practice—maybe pastoral “composition” is a better word. You can see the table of contents here, and even read the first chapter if you want. Each chapter helpfully reflects on the selected topic more broadly (though some more briefly than others) before introducing the church father chosen for the task of explicitly reflecting on the subject, but also implicitly considering their impact—or perhaps even the level to which we’ve collectively forgotten their wisdom.
Who is this book for?
Well, pastors. People generally in any sort of ministry would find this work helpful, though. The point is to apply timeless wisdom to your development as a person who has something to do with people’s spiritual lives and work. Just remember that this was written by two Baptists, so you’re only ever going to see “he” mentioned to refer to the reader.
Should I read it?
If you’ve done your due diligence and are intrigued by the table of contents, and you’re someone I mentioned in the previous section, then yes, probably.
Ok, great. But can you give me the juicy, opinionated hot takes?
I wish I had some hot takes about this book! They’d certainly generate more clicks. Instead what we have here is a really solid resource for, especially, younger folks just starting out in ministry, or even older folks who just have not spent the time that I certainly think they should have reading the treasure trove of ancient Christian literature.
If you know me at all, you know I’m a sucker for the Sisyphean task of trying to bring the works of the first several centuries of the church into the present. I think the best way to do this is the way that 1) remains faithful to the original context(s) of these works, and that 2) demonstrates that not only has history just completely repeated itself over and over again like an ouroboros, but that the issues that plagued humans in 325 are largely the same as now (excepting, perhaps, those of a technological or environmental nature). I think it’s safe to say that Coleman and Wilhite have worked together diligently on highlighting both of these.
Personally, I think three of the first four chapters, centred around the theme of the classical virtues, are the most impactful. This is where the timeless golden nuggets remain buried for most modern ministry practitioners, and where I myself felt the most challenged. Honestly, an entire volume just choosing a church father to pair with a virtue, and aimed at clergy, would be an instant-buy for me. That’s not to say that this theme of the virtues doesn’t appear in other chapters—it does, and helpfully so—but that I didn’t realize what a deficit in my own development the topic would be. I found the chapter on Origen to be especially insightful.
The eagle-eyed noticed I said three of the first four chapters. I felt the chapter on the sacramental pastor, in conversation with Ambrose, to be somewhat disappointing. But please note that I’m approaching this from the perspective of someone who has spent [nearly] their entire academic career thinking about sacraments from a patristic perspective, so you should understand that my glasses are a different colour from Coleman and Wilhite’s.
I’m not making a complaint that Baptists are writing about sacraments from a Baptist perspective, but more so that it would have been helpful to read more from Ambrose on the Eucharist. We hear a fair amount of his theologizing on baptism, but essentially nothing about the Eucharist. Which makes sense to the extent that Ambrose focuses 90% of his energy on baptism in On the Mysteries (the text chosen to be the focus in this chapter), but to me this is more a sign that we should that we should hear more from his On the Sacraments. Or we that should hear from someone else entirely on this topic—maybe Cyril of Jerusalem? Ambrose’s Eucharistic theology was at the centre of much of the later debates on the “power” of the words of institution by the priest celebrating the Mass, so it’s not typically relied upon by Protestants for a reason.
Final thoughts
This nit aside, I did thoroughly enjoy reading this book.
The final chapter, on John Chrysostom and the practice of preaching, is a particularly timely look into how the issues of the early church remain germane to the modern day church—especially around the topics of wealth and economic disparity. Chrysostom was famously at odds with the empress, Eudoxia, for his refusal to back down in his public, liturgical denouncements of imperial excesses. The people of Constantinople loved him and threatened to burn down the city when she had him banished. Needless to say, he was quickly recalled by the emperor, Arcadius. How many of us have been kicked out of our cities for refusing to preach the whole Gospel? Not many, I’d wager!
So, as I said, I sadly don’t have the energy right now to be more thorough than this. But I think I’ve fairly represented my opinion on the book as a whole—that it’s good!—while also expressing my idiosyncratic take on one particular chapter. I hope that comes across as fair. More than anything, if you’ve not read deeply or widely in the first six-seven centuries of the church, I think this would be an excellent way to shake hands with ten of the most important figures from our tradition. Follow the footnotes and get stuck in to more of the texts, if you’ve the time and capacity. And if you don’t, at least pick up a copy of Robert Wilken’s now-classic The Spirit of Early Christian Thought, which would serve as a fantastic companion to this text.
Never mind. That's YOUR review. I'll read that. 😂
Did you read this? Any thoughts? I'm not going to lie, im skeptical of Baptists doing Patristics, but this looks like it could be good