Is our study of the Bible as pure as we think it is? In Free for All, Tim Conder and Daniel Rhodes show how the way we read the Bible is held captive by the dominant culture in which we find ourselves. They aim to expose the cultural authorities that influence our understanding of the Bible and provide a way for communities to encounter the text as communities. This journey into community interpretation of the Bible not only honors the text and liberates its voice, but also catalyzes transformative practices of proclamation, hospitality, ethics, mission, and imagination. Church leaders, pastors, small group leaders, and those interested in the emerging church conversation will find Free for All an energizing resource to infuse their study of God's Word with new life.

Justice and the call for change are in the air. Whether it's extreme poverty, human rights, racism, or the Middle East, news outlets bombard us with stories about the need for justice in the world. But how are Christians to respond to these stories and the conditions to which they refer? Here's help. Editors Brian McLaren, Elisa Padilla, and Ashley Bunting Seeber have amassed a collection of over 30 brief chapters by some of the most penetrating thinkers in the justice conversation, including René Padilla, Peggy Campolo, Will and Lisa Samson, Sylvia Keesmaat, Bart Campolo, Lynne Hybels, Tony Jones, and Richard Twiss. Divided into sections, "God of Justice," "Book of Justice," "Justice in the USA," "Just World," and "Just Church," The Justice Project invites readers to deepen their understanding of the pressures our world faces and to take up the challenge of alleviating them. Never has the world been in greater need of Christians who "do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God." This resource will help them do just that.

Much ministry to children looks more like mere entertainment than authentic spiritual formation. But what if children's ministries were rooted in a mind set whereby we taught children, with our words and actions, how the story of God, the story of church history, the story of the local community, and the story of the child intersect and speak to one another? What if children's ministry was less about downloading information into kids' heads and more about leading them into these powerful, compelling stories? Beckwith aims to help ministers and parents create a ministry that captures children's imaginations not just to keep them occupied, but to live as citizens of the kingdom of God. In addition to providing theological reasons for formational children's ministry, the book offers examples of how Ivy and other practitioners are implementing a formational model.

Networks are everywhere. From our roads to our relationships, from our food supply to our power grids, networks are an integral part of how we live. Similarly, our churches, denominations, and even the kingdom of God are networks. Knowing how networks function and how to work with rather than against them has enormous implications for how we do ministry. In Thy Kingdom Connected, Dwight J. Friesen brings the complex theories of networking to church leaders in easy-to-understand, practical ways. Rather than bemoaning the modern disintegration of things like authority and structure, Friesen inspires hope for a more connective vision of life with God. He shows those involved in ministry how they can maximize already existing connections between people in order to spread the Gospel, get people plugged in at their churches, and grow together as disciples.

A disillusioned writer in San Juan finds himself stalked by a Chinese immigrant student, and as the two realize that they share a similar plight, they move towards bitter-sweet collaborations in passion, grief, literature, and art.

Three novellas set in Romania. In "The Cape," a saboteur prints phony copies of the Romanian party organ, Scinteia, antedating them by three years. The secret police, highly agitated, deduce that a worldwide peace organization is sending coded messages through the paper, derived from the beatitudes. In "Youth Without Youth," an old man is struck by a bolt of lightning and becomes young again. Now endowed with a fantastic memory and comprehension, he receives "thought" messages from the supernatural. "Nineteen Roses" concerns the secretary of a famous writer who finds himself reliving an experience that happened to his employer 30 years ago. The writer disappears and is presumed dead, but is he?

Why do zebras have stripes? Popular explanations range from camouflage to confusion of predators, social facilitation, and even temperature regulation. It is a challenge to test these proposals on large animals living in the wild, but using a combination of careful observations, simple field experiments, comparative information, and logic, Caro concludes that black-and-white stripes are an adaptation to thwart biting fly attack.

Throughout its long history, Japan had no concept of what we call “religion.” There was no corresponding Japanese word, nor anything close to its meaning. But when American warships appeared off the coast of Japan in 1853 and forced the Japanese government to sign treaties demanding, among other things, freedom of religion, the country had to contend with this Western idea. In this book, Jason Ananda Josephson reveals how Japanese officials invented religion in Japan and traces the sweeping intellectual, legal, and cultural changes that followed. More than a tale of oppression or hegemony, Josephson’s account demonstrates that the process of articulating religion offered the Japanese state a valuable opportunity. In addition to carving out space for belief in Christianity and certain forms of Buddhism, Japanese officials excluded Shinto from the category. Instead, they enshrined it as a national ideology while relegating the popular practices of indigenous shamans and female mediums to the category of “superstitions”—and thus beyond the sphere of tolerance. Josephson argues that the invention of religion in Japan was a politically charged, boundary-drawing exercise that not only extensively reclassified the inherited materials of Buddhism, Confucianism, and Shinto to lasting effect, but also reshaped, in subtle but significant ways, our own formulation of the concept of religion today. This ambitious and wide-ranging book contributes an important perspective to broader debates on the nature of religion, the secular, science, and superstition.

What do our clothes say about who we are or who we think we are? How does the way we dress communicate messages about our identity? Is the desire to be "in fashion" universal, or is it unique to Western culture? How do fashions change? These are just a few of the intriguing questions Fred Davis sets out to answer in this provocative look at what we do with our clothes—and what they can do to us. Much of what we assume to be individual preference, Davis shows, really reflects deeper social and cultural forces. Ours is an ambivalent social world, characterized by tensions over gender roles, social status, and the expression of sexuality. Predicting what people will wear becomes a risky gamble when the link between private self and public persona can be so unstable.

Communicate more effectively about science—by taking a page from Hollywood and improving your storytelling skills. Ask a scientist about Hollywood, and you’ll probably get eye rolls. But ask someone in Hollywood about science, and they’ll see dollar signs: Moviemakers know that science can be the source of great stories, with all the drama and action that blockbusters require. That’s a huge mistake, says Randy Olson: Hollywood has a lot to teach scientists about how to tell a story—and, ultimately, how to do science better. With Houston, We Have a Narrative, he lays out a stunningly simple method for turning the dull into the dramatic. Drawing on his unique background, which saw him leave his job as a working scientist to launch a career as a filmmaker, Olson first diagnoses the problem: When scientists tell us about their work, they pile one moment and one detail atop another moment and another detail—a stultifying procession of “and, and, and.” What we need instead is an understanding of the basic elements of story, the narrative structures that our brains are all but hardwired to look for—which Olson boils down, brilliantly, to “And, But, Therefore,” or ABT. At a stroke, the ABT approach introduces momentum (“And”), conflict (“But”), and resolution (“Therefore”)—the fundamental building blocks of story. As Olson has shown by leading countless workshops worldwide, when scientists’ eyes are opened to ABT, the effect is staggering: suddenly, they’re not just talking about their work—they’re telling stories about it. And audiences are captivated. Written with an uncommon verve and enthusiasm, and built on principles that are applicable to fields far beyond science, Houston, We Have a Narrative has the power to transform the way science is understood and appreciated, and ultimately how it’s done.