I am currently reading through Faye Kellerman’s novel “The Burnt House”, part of her “Peter Decker & Rina Lazarus” series.

Rina is a life-long orthodox Jew, Los Angeles police detective Peter “Akiva” is Jewish by birth but was adopted by gentiles and only came to Jewish faith and observance about 17 years ago in the wake of his love for Rina.

Here is an interesting conversation about faith and doubt as it relates to ultimate justice:

“I certainly hope so. It pisses me off that a murderer has eluded justice.”

“He’ll eventually have to account for his actions. Maybe it won’t be to you or to the criminal justice system, but certainly to a higher authority. What goes around comes around: Middah keneged mid-dah.”

“I wish I believed that.”

“Sometimes I don’t even know if I believe that. But that’s the basis of faith, and I’m a woman of faith.” Rina put down her book. “These cold cases must be frustrating. … I know it upsets you that someone got away with murder, but eventually we all die, and that’s when everyone sees that, ultimately, someone else is in control.”

“But just suppose you die and that’s it?” Decker said. “I mean that’s really it! You’re nothing but maggot food.”

“Maybe that’s the case,” Rina said. “Since no one really knows, I choose to believe otherwise. Even if it turns out that I was sold a false bill of goods, I think believing in God is a healthier way to live. Faith is for the living, Akiva, not the dead.”

Faye & Jonathan Kellerman

I am a gentile, evangelical Christian, not an observant Jew, but I find it fascinating how such “Jewish” conversations resonate with my own experience as a believer. And I generally find “secular” novels with characters who are people of faith, whether Jewish or Christian, even if they are nor portrayed as perfect or saintly, more interesting than explicitly “Christian” novels where the believers tend to be “goody two-shoes” — because, let’s be real: we are not all perfect and saintly, either, and we have our share of crooks in our ranks even though we are quick to either close our eyes to their faults or else to disown them if they are too much of an embarrassment.

Recently I acquired a discounted collection of Michael Connelly’s novels[1], foremost among them the more than twenty novels featuring LAPD[2] homicide detective Hieronymous “Harry” Bosch, and I was instantly hooked and spent two weeks binge-reading them.

What impressed me about Connelly’s novels, apart from the fact that he is a brilliant story teller, is the meticulous research which has gone into providing a lot of factual information about the LAPD and other Los Angeles institutions.

Because I find the Wikipedia article about Harry Bosch well-written and informative, I am including much of it here:

1. https://thrillerandhorror.com/product/complete-works-of-michael-connelly/[↩]
2. Los Angeles Police Department[↩]

Taken from Wikipedia for my own reference.

In my constant search for “clean” reading material to keep me from getting bored in my bedridden state at some point I came across the genre of “Amish romances”. They present life in an Amish community as an idyllic, God-fearing life with a quaint language (Pennsylvania Dutch), marred only by the occasional natural disaster, buggy accident, the quandary of who to court and get married to, and the occasional tension with the “Englische” (the surrounding non-Amish).

On the face of it, that certainly is attractive to me, an Evangelical Christian with some ties to the Anabaptist tradition and a fascination with language, but it very quickly struck me as “too good to be true”.

Not only does wider reading reveal that in many Amish communities and for many Amish people the focus is on tradition and strict conformity to the “Ordnung” (the community’s rule book) rather than on personal faith and discipleship, but of course the Amish, like everyone else, are all sinners, and all manner of sin exist in their communities including jealousy, adultery, failed marriages, dictatorial leadership, domestic abuse and violence, etc., which sometimes even make secular news headlines.

And, as a recent search for “Amish” in Amazon revealed, there is not just the genre of “Amish romances” but also a plethora of books with titles like “Hex and Spellwork: The Magical Practices of the Pennsylvania Dutch“, “Folk Religion of the Pennsylvania Dutch: Witchcraft, Faith Healing and Related Practices”, “Der Volksfreund: Hex Signs, Folktales, and Witchcraft of the Pennsylvania Dutch”, etc. — most by authors with clearly Amish names.

This brings home to me the fact that we should not idealize or idolize any group of humans, for “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

Likewise, we should not idealize any past era, because, again, people have always “sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”

And everytime we put a man or woman, or a group of people, on a pedestal, they will sooner or later fall off that pedestal and fail to meet our expectations.

Nevertheless, I shall continue to enjoy them, as a welcome counterpoint to the real world with all of its conflicts, division, and violence.

I have just finished reading “Fatherland” by Robert Harris, a police procederal set in 1964 in a Germany that has won the war. The idea for the book came to him while covering the “Hitler Diaries” affair as a journalist. Here is the synopsis of the book from Amazon:

Berlin, 1964. The Greater German Reich stretches from the Rhine to the Urals, and keeps an uneasy peace with its nuclear rival, the United States. As the Fatherland prepares for a grand celebration honoring Adolf Hitler’s seventy-fifth birthday and anticipates a conciliatory visit from U.S. president Joseph Kennedy and ambassador Charles Lindbergh, a detective of the Kriminalpolizei is called out to investigate the discovery of a dead body in a lake near Berlin’s most prestigious suburb.
But when Xavier March discovers the identity of the body, he also uncovers signs of a conspiracy that could go to the very top of the German Reich. And, with the Gestapo just one step behind, March, together with the American journalist Charlotte Maguire, is caught up in a race to discover and reveal the truth—a truth that has already killed, a truth that could topple governments, a truth that will change history.

It was a fascinating read, with historical actors at a time when outside fiction they had already been dead for varying timespans. The book does not distort history: No historically bad guys were white-washed, and no historically good guys were turned into monsters. The most surprising aspect of the book is that the world seems so far unaware of what has become of Europe’s Jews – they are assumed to have vanished into the vast territories somewhere to the east.

I was impressed with the care the author took with the German words used throughout the book — he’s the first English-speaking author I have come across to use the proper plural of “Autobahn“: “Autobahnen“, not “Autobahns“.

The book became an instant bestseller in the English-speaking world; its reception in Germany was initially rather negative it was widely considered anti-German (Der Spiegel: a “demonization of the Federal Republic”), and no German publisher wanted to touch it; it was published in Switzerland, and only years later the paperback was published by a German publisher. I did not think it was anti-German nor a demonization, but this shows how hard and painful it still is for Germans and Austrians[1]  to be reminded of their guilty national heritage. Eventually a more objective reception prevailed.

I shall not bother to find and watchthe movie version: according to Wikipedia it does not faithfully follow the original, and has a totally different ending.

Fatherland, by Robert Harris, Hutchinson, London, 1992, https://a.co/d/2vJ1Kl8

1. (I explicitly mention Austria here because, contrary to the popular myth in this country that Austria was the first victim of the Nazis, many Austrians were involved in the atrocities of the Third Reich, starting with Hitler himself. One of the main figures in the book is the Carinthian Odilo Globocnik, Gauleiter in Vienna and then SS and Police Leader in the Lublin district of the General Government (Poland).[↩]

In a recent Facebook conversation Chad Bird was asked to recommend a Bible translation. Here is his reply:

«For many years, I have been using the NASB (New American Standard Bible). It leans more toward the literal in translation, thus making it harder to read at times. A more readable translation is the ESV (English Standard Version), which is commonly used in many denominations. Every translation is imperfect, of course, because one can never bring 100% of a language into another language. But those two are the ones I use the most. If you are looking for an even more readable translation, you might check out the CSB (Christian Standard Bible).»

For what it’s worth, I fully endorse this recommendation. For an added perspective I would add the CJB (Complete Jewish Bible) to these three.

And as one who has done a lot translation work I would underline this sentence in Chad’s answer:

«Every translation is imperfect, of course, because one can never bring 100% of a language into another language.»

That is so important, yet so easily forgotten.

As for Bible translations I would warn against the currently popular Passion Translation comes to mind which is very much a paraphrase in the service of a specific, highly controversial theological perspective[1], and of course the Jehovah’s Witnesses New World Translation which is likewise biased in the service of a particular theological system.

In general, more mainstream paraphrases such as The Living Bible or The Message are o.k. and can be helpful as long as one does not lose sight of the fact that they are just that, a paraphrase rather than a translation.

1. New Apostolic Reformation. I highly respect some of the proponents of this movement while considering others equally higly problematic.[↩]