Abba’s Child: The Cry Of The Heart For Intimate Belonging, by Brennan Manning

[Note: This book was provided free of charge by Tyndale Press/Nav Press in exchange for an honest review.]

It was the title of the book that first drew me to reading it, and then when I got the book I was concerned because I hated the other book I had read from the author with a passion [1]. What is bad theology, though, often springs from the legitimate longings of the heart, and such is the case with this author. To be sure, Brennan Manning lived a complicated life, with a struggle against alcoholism, and a long period in the Franciscan Order, including early fame, before leaving the order and marrying. He gained an early celebrity following as a writer, but later turned against it, describing it in this book as being an Imposter seeking fame. It is that chapter of this book that has made this a famous book, yet even here this fame is misunderstood, for although we see in the fame of our age a great deal of attention seeking, it springs from insecurity and vulnerability, and desires our compassion and not our scorn, and the use of this writing by many has been to heap scorn on others.

This book demonstrates in large amounts that the author has sought to wrestle for honesty and candor in a world that values surface appearances, to struggle to show love to others, even the unlovable for many of us (myself included) have deep fears of being unlovable because of the darkness we have suffered in our lives. As the core of this book is the struggle to accept that we are loved by God as we are, and that God loves us too much to want to see us remain as we are, but wants us to become like Him, and that our obedience to Him should spring from a security in His love and in the overflowing repercussions of that trust. In focusing on in that love, this book is a very good one, perhaps even a great one. Certainly, by pointing to love, and to a realization that Jesus Christ did not come to change the law, but change the motivation of obeying it from a desire to appear righteous and justify ourselves to obedience out of love and springing concern for the well-being of others, the author points to the truth of the matter. This is so even if he imperfectly understood the law and certainly was no greatly obedient person in the course of his own life, and even though it is difficult to show love and tenderness to those who hate us and attack us.

The author also wisely recognizes that this book is more about application than about intellectual understanding. Such intellectual wisdom it possesses is largely due to the astute and thoughtful quotes included from other writers. Yet the focus even here is on application, for love is not about knowing, but about doing, even doing when it is difficult and unrewarded. By pointing to the present reality of God’s presence, even in times of trial, even in dark moments, even in loss and brokenness (and especially then), the author avoids pat answers and wrestles with the darkness we all struggle against. And it is that wrestling and that struggling that allow us to become more like our Lord and our Savior. Hopefully, in that struggle we see enough truth about God and about ourselves neither to present a false appearance to the world nor to have a false picture of God. For we are all God’s children, and as imperfectly as we may be loved by ourselves, by our family, and by those whom we love, we are perfectly loved by God, even where we struggle to see it. And once we know we are loved, we can properly show love to others in turn. Small wonder that this little book (it is only a little more than 150 pages) should be so loved, for who did not want to read that they were loved for who they are, in spite of all the ways that we are broken in our fallen world?

[1] See: https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2013/08/07/book-review-the-ragamuffin-gospel/