[Pre-emptive note: this might be my longest blog post ever. Scratch
that, it’s definitely my longest blog post ever, which is why I’ve broken it
into pieces. It’s not intended as a casual review, but it’s rather trying to
root out what I believe are confusing and unhelpful subtleties related to why I
disagree with the overwhelmingly positive opinion toward this book, an opinion
that is shared by multiple minds much greater than my own. This is a hard book review to write. I’ve written and
deleted so many paragraphs, I could probably fill a book with them. Well, at
least a Curious George-length book,
which is my normal reading material these days.]
When our women’s
Bible Study decided to read Extravagant Grace by Barbara Duguid for our spring study, we did so based on resounding
endorsements from all the right people. If books can have pedigrees, this one
knocks the ball out of the park. So part of the reason this is a strange review
to be writing is that I find myself disagreeing with these glowing reviews,
some even from my own respected teachers.
I missed the first two weeks of the study, but by then,
murmurs were getting back to me that some ladies disagreed with some of the
content presented at the beginning of the book. “She seems imbalanced.” “She
hasn’t talked at all about the Holy Spirit or repentance.” “I feel like she’s
telling me to stop trying to obey and just relax and be okay with my sin.” Then
I read Mark
Jones’ review and felt like it gave me and the other gals some
validation in our misgivings.
There are a million (or thereabouts) good reviews of the
book, but for the sake of “sandwiching,” let me point out a few things that I
appreciated about Extravagant Grace.
First of all, I believe the book speaks very well to its target audience, which
is Christians who have genuinely tried to walk in obedience and grow in
holiness and who find themselves continually stumbling. They believe themselves
to be failures and live under a shroud of guilt that they should be better (in both God’s eyes and in the eyes of other
believers) than they are. For a person like this who is reading the book, to be
told (essentially), “God designed your sanctification process! He knows that
you are ‘but dust,’ and he knows exactly how deep your sin problem is, even
more than you do. Therefore, he doesn’t expect you to be more sanctified than
you are; he is working out his plan in and through you, so you don’t need to
fear his disapproval or condemnation because you are not better than you are.”
I have personally talked to people who have benefited enormously from this
message in the book.
Second, and related, I think Duguid does a great job of
drawing attention to the struggles all of us have to be more Christ-like. In
her examples, she brings conviction to both the “elder brother” types and to
the “prodigals.” We all need to see the depth of the sin in our hearts, and we
all need to be encouraged to find our security in Christ alone rather than our
performance. An added benefit of this emphasis is the community aspect. We are
encouraged to view one another through the lens of Christ’s love rather than our
weaknesses, and we are called to especially show that love and consideration to
“weaker brothers.” There are some excellent sections of the book on this. An
example: “It is a devastatingly painful thing to be a weak Christian in the
American evangelical church today. So much emphasis is put on reading, praying,
growing, and victory that there isn’t much room left for those God is holding
on to with a strong arm, but who may know little of the joy of full assurance
of faith and the satisfaction of growth in grace and obedience – at least in
this life” (p 150).
Third, I believe that Duguid rightly senses an impulse on
the part of Christians who want to be serious about holiness to be too serious about it, which can be counter-productive.
We’re working so hard to be holy that we are caught off guard when we fall.
Evaluating ourselves for the sake of rooting out sin, without a Christ-centered
perspective on both our sin and his holiness becomes mere naval-gazing and has
the impact of turning us even further inward on ourselves. Think of Robert
Murray M’Cheyne’s famous saying, “For every one look at self, take ten looks at
Christ.” Or, Jack Miller: “Cheer up! You’re worse than you think!” Holiness for
the sake of holiness becomes joyless drudgery.
We become filled with unhealthy fear of God’s wrath, burdened with
guilt, or, when we feel like we are being holy enough, we become angry at God
for not treating us in the way we think we deserve for all our holiness (think
of the elder brother’s response to his father).
This is what happened to the Galatians, right? They went from joyful
freedom in Christ to the bondage of rules, and Paul called them perfect fools
for it. Extravagant Grace has been
written to remind us that because of Christ’s perfect obedience on our behalf
we are free from the burdens of trying to obey in order to earn God’s favor,
not only before we were saved, but also once we’ve been counted among God’s
children.
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