Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me

Ian Morgan Cron’s memoir of sorts chronicles his life as best he can remember, and sometimes even better than his best memories, as he freely admits to some elaboration in the introduction.  It all begins as he muses over a picture of him in a boat when he was two on a family vacation, and the story ends in the present with him on a family vacation with his own children. 

Cron’s writing reminds me a lot of John Updike in style and content, or I should say John Updike in reverse.  While Updike usually ends with some existential dig at God and Christianity, Cron ends with rebirth and triumph through Christ.  Perhaps the similarity lies in that the two are both Episcopalian: one a parishioner, the other a priest, though it should be no surprise that Episcopalians produce such outstanding writers—they do stem from the denominational lineage of Shakespeare and Milton after all.

I sat down to read this book. When I finished the first chapter, I was astonished.  The writing was good.  Not just passable like other Christian novels I’ve read but literary good.  Cron’s writing is unparalleled in modern Christian publishing.  It was so good, that I read the whole book out loud, chapter by chapter, with my wife at bedtime.

The best part is that not only is the writing good, but his story is absolutely engulfing.  Cron made us laugh at the absurdities of his dysfunctional family, cry in his pain, rejoice in his new birth in Christ, and pray over the struggles he still faces in his new life. 

I don’t know how much more glowing a review could be, but if you’re looking for a good read that is a raw look at grace in process, Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me is the book for you.

I received a free copy of this book from the publisher for review.  All opinions are my own.

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