This book came into my hands quite suddenly. It found me before I found it. No sooner had I agreed to do a review than its pages began to make an unexpected claim on my own consciousness and spiritual journey. Initially, I found it curious that a Franciscan would be asked to render an accounting of the book’s merits. Yet the more I entered into it, the more I was persuaded that the timeliness of the volume allows it to speak to a much broader audience than readers already familiar with the essential elements of Ignatian spirituality. Spiritual and social in its orientation, the book has a magnetic appeal that is both radical and global in nature. Invitational, compelling and profound in terms of its style, tone, and content, it is a book that can be read a paragraph at a time, a theme at a time, a section at a time, or in its totality during one mesmerized sitting. It is simultaneously a page-turner and a book of meditations to which a reader will return over and over again. Unlike those of us who venture into this Ignatian arena of consciousness from the outside, I suspect that those well-acquainted with the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, along with his life and times, may bring to their reading of this volume a different set of questions, observations, and possibly reservations, regarding Brackley’s interpretations, applications, and perspectives. Yet regardless of one’s particular charism, spiritual background, social location, or orientation to life, Brackley’s narrative promises to engage the reader’s theological imagination and moral sensibilities. The personal stories that he uses to contextualize his points are not of the ponderous self-referential sort. Rather, they are moving reflections that draw the reader into the very heart of life’s many relational dimensions.social, economic, cultural, political, and spiritual. The book itself is divided into six sections and builds on the framework of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. The first section, entitled ‘Getting Free,’ invites the reader to consider the conditions needed for cultivating a spirituality of solidarity. Four related topics are further developed under this heading, including becoming ‘free to love,’ the ‘reality of evil,’ the exigencies of ‘forgiveness,’ and the ‘reform of life.’ It concludes with a thought-provoking exploration of Ignatius’s Rules for Discernment. The second section, entitled ‘Something Worth Living For,’ addresses the subject of vocation. It examines the experience of ‘the call,’ the meaning and demands of ‘the Reign of God,’ and ‘the contemplation of Christ,’ and offers a challenging interpretation of Ignatius’s meditation on ‘the Two Standards.’ It considers the movements of ‘downward mobility,’ ‘humility’ and ‘solidarity’ as preconditions for the ‘expanding of one’s soul.’ The third section focuses on the ‘Acts of Discerning and Deciding.’ It takes up the question of how one lives ‘life in the Spirit.’ In offering a series of responses, it provides ‘more rules for discernment,’ analyzes ‘three ways of making decisions,’ and highlights the core elements of ‘seeking the way of truth and life.’ Section four examines the inter-relatedness of ‘Passion and Compassion’ through a series of moving reflections on the ‘grace of compassion,’ ‘the solidarity of God,’ and the ‘blessedness of the persecuted.’ The fifth section probes the mystery and significance of the Resurrection by contemplating the dynamics of ‘Resurrection and the Spirit’ in terms of the experiences of ‘consolation, action and liberation,’ and ‘learning to love like God.’ The Sixth and final section treats the topic of ‘Prayer’ by way of exposition, exhortation, observation, and a concluding personal anecdote. In addition to the main contents of the book that draw upon the Spiritual Exercises in provocative, challenging, and perhaps unconventional ways, readers will be drawn into Brackley’s project and its contemporary relevance by the ‘Foreword for Skeptics’ written by the book’s editor, Ellen Calmus. Also, those well-versed in Ignatian spirituality will find further matter for reflections and discussion in the two appendices dealing in greater detail with the elements of the Kingdom Meditation and the meaning of the Two Standards. Finally, the many references used by Brackley in the development of this important volume are in and of themselves worthy of note. Woven together like a fine tapestry, the insights conveyed in the footnotes merit the reader’s close attention and critical consideration. Focused on the creative, reconciling, and ever-inspiring love of the God of Life, Brackley challenges the idols of death, dehumanization and destruction at every turn. Throughout the book, he holds in tension the realities that characterize our troubled times.with all of their shadows and lights, ambiguities, and clarities, insecurities and certainties, vices and virtues, injustices and liberations, broken-winged hopes and bold dreams. Daring the reader to sort out what is essential and instructive in Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises from what is not, Brackley is forthright in anticipating the predictable criticisms of his work and respectful in his acknowledgement of the validity of his critics’ points when viewed from their perspectives. This posture is consistent with Brackley’s overall purpose inasmuch as the goal of this book is not to make his interpretation the last word, but simply an unforgettable word to bystanders—guilty or not—who have avoided, denied, or never recognized the need for a radical self-examination of their lives in the light of the indisputable facts of the global social crisis in which they find themselves and their world. Convinced that another world is possible, Brackley draws upon the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, along with their biblical and theological foundations, to advance a utopian vision of solidarity and community. Undeterred by the mystery of iniquity and its countless manifestations in the everyday lives of the powerless and privileged alike, Brackley appeals to the logic of Love with an apocalyptic sense of ultimacy that has characterized the author’s witness throughout his life. Calling attention to the paralyzing, oppressive, and deceptive dynamics of resentment, Brackley urges the reader to take account of the need for discernment, for interpreting rightly the movements of consolation and desolation, for acting with integrity in the endeavor to discover where one stands when coming face to face with the question: What is best for God’s purpose? For those who find this question burning in their hearts for the first time, this book will be an indispensable resource in their efforts to seek and find God—and themselves—in a world of crisis and confusion. For those first seared by this question long ago, whose knowing, loving and following Christ continues in the midst or aftermath of ‘dropping out, burning out or petering out,’ this book is required reading. To crack its binding is to take an incalculable risk of the sort that characterizes the companions of Jesus
“Code Name: God develops in such a way that readers are won over wholeheartedly by Bhaumik’s convictions. The metaphors and analogies used in Code Name: God appropriately balance its scientific tone and add extra beauty to its reader-friendly style. Although Bhaumik’s goal is to bridge the gap between modern physics, spirituality, and cosmology, an inquisitive reader will see several bridges in the book linking science, literature, art, philosophy, and life.”
Berne and Savary know what they’re talking about. They speak in ways guaranteed to be appreciated by busy, loving parents. Parents and teachers, stick a note on your refrigerator to get and read this one—soon.
The rhythms of writing came early to Aneela Khalid Arshed, before her arranged marriage, before she and her husband left Pakistan for the United States, and long before she conquered her fears about the perils of being a modem Muslim woman who dares to write a book about the Qur’an. At home in Pakistan, she and her parents and five sisters spoke primarily in Urdu and Punjabi, and she knew enough Arabic to read the sacred text of Islam, the Qur’an. At the convent of Jesus and Mary in Lahore, however, the Irish nuns had a strict rule: only one class was in Urdu. All the others were in English. So she learned English early and wrote English-language poetry as a girl. ‘It started with my mother, and then it went to nature, and then I used to write articles for the school magazine,’ said Arshed, 44, in an interview at her home in Oyster Bay Cove. ‘Then, when I went to my graduate school, I did my master’s in English, and when I was there, I used to write articles for the college magazine.’ She grew up in a large, close-knit family, with solid economic security, marrying Khaleeq Arshed, who was just graduating from medical school in Pakistan, on his way to a career as a pulmonologist. ‘It was a very arranged affair,’ she said. The marriage turned out well, and she remains thankful for her husband. But 22 years ago, early in their marriage, they left Pakistan and came to the United States so he could continue his medical training at Metropolitan Hospital. ‘I, to tell you the truth, did not want to come here,’ she said. In Pakistan, she had a large, supportive extended family. Here, she had no one except her husband and, later, her children Sabrina, now 18, and Daniel, nearly 16. ‘Suddenly,’ she said, ‘I was thrown into this culture, which is so different than my own, and I felt lost.’ Beyond her own loneliness, Arshed has felt powerfully the sadness of others, among them a hungry young girl in Lahore, and Indian and Pakistani women arriving here, bound in difficult marriages, not knowing where to turn to for help. The sum of these sadnesses eventually added up to a quest for the purpose of life, even though she had never been particularly religious. She grew up a modern Muslim woman, declining to wear the hejab, the obligatory scarf for women, but still saying her prayers five times a day. ‘I tell everyone that, when I die, I want to be remembered as a good person, not a religious person,’ Arshed said. ‘I was born a Muslim. I’ll die a Muslim. But I believe in every religion.’ About six years ago, she began to search more deeply into her own faith, reading the Quran in English, Arabic and Urdu, and highlighting helpful passages. Eventually, her husband suggested that she buy a book of Qur’anic verses, one for each day. ‘So I looked for a daybook,’ she recalled. ‘There wasn’t any.’ Her husband suggested that she compile her own. At about the same time, she was working on a novel about ancient Egypt. ‘I don’t know if it was God’s will, or whether it was meant to be. I just hit a stone wall with the novel,’ Arshed said. ‘I decided at that point, Well, you know what, I might as well start compiling a book.”‘ By then, she had identified 700 verses, and she began trimming them down, to provide one a day. ‘I tried to stay away from the apocalyptic verses,’ she said. ‘I tried to concentrate more on the softer verses . . . I found a lot of solace, and I wanted the reader to feel the same solace as I had.’ She supplemented the verses with sayings of the Muslim mystics, and selections from the hadith, stories about Muhammad and his companions. For the Qur’an verses, she took an English translation by Marmaduke Pickthall and gently modernized its dated language. ‘Since I did not want to play with the text or play with the words, for the fear of retribution, I was very careful,’ Arshed said. Finally, she sent her manuscript to six publishers. ‘I was bracing myself for rejections,’ Arshed said. But about 10 days later, she received a letter of acceptance from the Crossroad Publishing Company, a religious publisher with Catholic roots, which had been seeking a book of Qur’an verses. ‘We found out that there was none available,’ said Gwendolin Herder, chief executive and publisher. ‘There are a lot of Bible day-by-day readers. As far as we knew, there was no reader from the Quran.’ As Arshed worked with Crossroad to make the selections more rounded and to develop a better modern translation, she became increasingly fearful that some Muslim clerics might object to a modern Muslim woman tinkering with the Qur’an. ‘I was petrified,’ she said. ‘Anyone can just get up and say, “And what gives you the authority?”‘ In the end, the book was published in 1999 as The Bounty of Allah, (398 pages, retail price $19.95) and the clerics she consulted had no objections. ‘It’s going well,’ Herder said. ‘It did very well at the beginning, and it’s selling since.’ This may be the first book on the Qur’an by a Muslim woman on Long Island, said Sanaa Nadim, the Muslim chaplain at the State University at Stony Brook, who advised Arshed on the book and is working on her own book on human spirituality from a Muslim perspective. Arshed is now working on a novel about the life and times of the Buddha, and she may someday return to her novel about Egypt. For now, she is thankful that her book of Qur’an verses has worked out, despite her fears and the negative vibrations she felt from some of her friends. ‘I guess it was just meant to be,’ she said. ‘I don’t know.'”