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Where the Light Fell
In this searing meditation on the bonds of family and the allure of extremist faith, one of today's most celebrated Christian writers recounts his unexpected journey from a strict fundamentalist upbringing to a life of compassion and grace--a revelatory memoir in the tradition of Educated and Hillbilly Elegy.
Raised by an impoverished widow who earned room and board as a Bible teacher in 1950s Atlanta, Philip Yancey and his brother, Marshall, found ways to venture out beyond the confines of their eight-foot-wide trailer. But when Yancey was in college, he uncovered a shocking secret about his father's death--a secret that began to illuminate the motivations that drove his mother to extreme, often hostile religious convictions and a belief that her sons had been ordained for a divine cause.
Searching for answers, Yancey dives into his family origins, taking us on an evocative journey from the backwoods of the Bible Belt to the bustling streets of Philadelphia; from trailer parks to church sanctuaries; from family oddballs to fire-and-brimstone preachers and childhood awakenings through nature, music, and literature. In time, the weight of religious and family pressure sent both sons on opposite paths--one toward healing from the impact of what he calls a "toxic faith," the other into a self-destructive spiral.
Where the Light Fell is a gripping family narrative set against a turbulent time in post-World War II America, shaped by the collision of Southern fundamentalism with the mounting pressures of the civil rights movement and Sixties-era forces of social change. In piecing together his fragmented personal history and his search for redemption, Yancey gives testament to the enduring power of our hunger for truth and the possibility of faith rooted in grace instead of fear.
"I truly believe this is the one book I was put on earth to write," says Yancey. "So many of the strands from my childhood—racial hostility, political division, culture wars—have resurfaced in modern form. Looking back points me forward."
Raised by an impoverished widow who earned room and board as a Bible teacher in 1950s Atlanta, Philip Yancey and his brother, Marshall, found ways to venture out beyond the confines of their eight-foot-wide trailer. But when Yancey was in college, he uncovered a shocking secret about his father's death--a secret that began to illuminate the motivations that drove his mother to extreme, often hostile religious convictions and a belief that her sons had been ordained for a divine cause.
Searching for answers, Yancey dives into his family origins, taking us on an evocative journey from the backwoods of the Bible Belt to the bustling streets of Philadelphia; from trailer parks to church sanctuaries; from family oddballs to fire-and-brimstone preachers and childhood awakenings through nature, music, and literature. In time, the weight of religious and family pressure sent both sons on opposite paths--one toward healing from the impact of what he calls a "toxic faith," the other into a self-destructive spiral.
Where the Light Fell is a gripping family narrative set against a turbulent time in post-World War II America, shaped by the collision of Southern fundamentalism with the mounting pressures of the civil rights movement and Sixties-era forces of social change. In piecing together his fragmented personal history and his search for redemption, Yancey gives testament to the enduring power of our hunger for truth and the possibility of faith rooted in grace instead of fear.
"I truly believe this is the one book I was put on earth to write," says Yancey. "So many of the strands from my childhood—racial hostility, political division, culture wars—have resurfaced in modern form. Looking back points me forward."
320 pages, Hardcover
First published October 5, 2021
About the author
Philip Yancey
266 books2,284 followersA native of Atlanta, Georgia, Philip Yancey earned graduate degrees in Communications and English from Wheaton College Graduate School and the University of Chicago. He joined the staff of Campus Life Magazine in 1971, and worked there as Editor and then Publisher. He looks on those years with gratitude, because teenagers are demanding readers, and writing for them taught him a lasting principle: The reader is in control!
In 1978 Philip Yancey became a full-time writer, initially working as a journalist for such varied publications as Reader’s Digest, Publisher’s Weekly, National Wildlife, Christian Century and The Reformed Journal. For several years he contributed a monthly column to Christianity Today magazine, where he also served as Editor at Large.
In 2021 Philip released two new books: A Companion in Crisis and his long-awaited memoir, Where the Light Fell. Other favorites included in his more than twenty-five titles are: Where Is God When It Hurts, The Student Bible, and Disappointment with God. Philip's books have won thirteen Gold Medallion Awards from the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association, have sold more than seventeen million copies, and have been published in over 50 languages. Christian bookstore managers selected The Jesus I Never Knew as the 1996 Book of the Year, and in 1998 What’s So Amazing About Grace? won the same award. His other recent books are Fearfully and Wonderfully: The Marvel of Bearing God’s Image; Vanishing Grace: Bringing Good News to a Deeply Divided World; The Question that Never Goes Away; What Good Is God?; Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference?; Soul Survivor; and Reaching for the Invisible God. In 2009 a daily reader was published, compiled from excerpts of his work: Grace Notes.
The Yanceys lived in downtown Chicago for many years before moving to a very different environment in Colorado. Together they enjoy mountain climbing, skiing, hiking, and all the other delights of the Rocky Mountains.
Visit Philip online:
https://www.philipyancey.com
https://www.facebook.com/PhilipYancey
Catch his monthly blog:
https://bit.ly/PhilipYanceyBlog
In 1978 Philip Yancey became a full-time writer, initially working as a journalist for such varied publications as Reader’s Digest, Publisher’s Weekly, National Wildlife, Christian Century and The Reformed Journal. For several years he contributed a monthly column to Christianity Today magazine, where he also served as Editor at Large.
In 2021 Philip released two new books: A Companion in Crisis and his long-awaited memoir, Where the Light Fell. Other favorites included in his more than twenty-five titles are: Where Is God When It Hurts, The Student Bible, and Disappointment with God. Philip's books have won thirteen Gold Medallion Awards from the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association, have sold more than seventeen million copies, and have been published in over 50 languages. Christian bookstore managers selected The Jesus I Never Knew as the 1996 Book of the Year, and in 1998 What’s So Amazing About Grace? won the same award. His other recent books are Fearfully and Wonderfully: The Marvel of Bearing God’s Image; Vanishing Grace: Bringing Good News to a Deeply Divided World; The Question that Never Goes Away; What Good Is God?; Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference?; Soul Survivor; and Reaching for the Invisible God. In 2009 a daily reader was published, compiled from excerpts of his work: Grace Notes.
The Yanceys lived in downtown Chicago for many years before moving to a very different environment in Colorado. Together they enjoy mountain climbing, skiing, hiking, and all the other delights of the Rocky Mountains.
Visit Philip online:
https://www.philipyancey.com
https://www.facebook.com/PhilipYancey
Catch his monthly blog:
https://bit.ly/PhilipYanceyBlog
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,017 reviews
May 17, 2021
I have read all of Philip Yancey's books over the last 20 years and consider him the best theological writer since C S Lewis. His books are readable and full of grace.
Yancey always writes from personal experience. This memoir shines new light on all of his writings. Yancey's father died when he was a child because his parents chose to trust that God would heal his polio rather than leave him in an iron lung. His mother dedicated both of her sons to the Lord and was determined that they would be missionaries some day. Her dual personality: spiritual in public and wildly emotional at home, drove both sons away from the church. Philip's brother Marshal remains an atheist while Philip came to grips with his upbringing and found true faith.
This book is an important supplement to Yancey other writings. I feel like I need to reread all of them with the insight I have gained into his life. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for providing an advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
Yancey always writes from personal experience. This memoir shines new light on all of his writings. Yancey's father died when he was a child because his parents chose to trust that God would heal his polio rather than leave him in an iron lung. His mother dedicated both of her sons to the Lord and was determined that they would be missionaries some day. Her dual personality: spiritual in public and wildly emotional at home, drove both sons away from the church. Philip's brother Marshal remains an atheist while Philip came to grips with his upbringing and found true faith.
This book is an important supplement to Yancey other writings. I feel like I need to reread all of them with the insight I have gained into his life. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for providing an advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
August 7, 2021
In this very personal memoir, Philip Yancey describes his life journey from his fundamentalist Christian upbringing to the life he leads now as a celebrated Christian writer. He talks freely of his dysfunctional family and his, what I would call abusive, upbringing by his religious zealot mother. He discusses in great detail his questions regarding his faith and his struggles between his religious upbringing and the outside world at large.
The writing is extremely engaging and I was able to relate to many of his struggles with various religious questions about faith and grace. I think I would enjoy reading some of his other works.
Thanks to Convergent Books through Netgalley for an advance copy. This book will be published on October 5,2021.
The writing is extremely engaging and I was able to relate to many of his struggles with various religious questions about faith and grace. I think I would enjoy reading some of his other works.
Thanks to Convergent Books through Netgalley for an advance copy. This book will be published on October 5,2021.
September 13, 2021
This book was not on my radar until I received a marketing email from Random House inviting me to read the book- because I had liked the book Educated by Tara Westover.
Philip Yancey has been a writer of religious themed books for decades, but this one is a true memoir of his upbringing. His parents were southern fundamentalists from Atlanta, Georgia who planned on being missionaries to Africa. But after having two sons (Marshall and Philip), the father died from polio at the age of 24. He had been fighting the disease attached to an iron lung machine at the hospital, but his religious sensibilities propelled him to leave against medical advice. The mother, grief-stricken at her husband's burial site, dedicated her two son's lives in service of God.
The now widowed Mrs. Yancey never even considered re-marrying, but steadfastly and determinedly raised the two boys on her own, deriving some charity income from her home church in Philadelphia as well as teaching bible study in various capacities. They moved practically every year, the boys having to keep changing schools, because of the need to find cheaper living accommodations. Eventually they wound up buying the cheapest version of a trailer which could be moved to various locations as needed (at one point church grounds where Mrs. Yancey taught), but at least it was theirs.
The author Philip was the younger of the sons. He learned to read well before even going to school, by his own design. He would see his mother and aunt mysteriously gleaning information from newspapers, and was hungry to crack the code. They weren't allowed to go to movies (not that they had the money anyway) or watch TV, so reading became a gift where one could travel in one's mind. Older brother Marshall had an exquisite talent for playing the piano, and also for standing up to their fire and brimstone mother. When Marshall decided to transfer out of one Bible study college for a more liberal one, Mother Yancey became so incensed that she "cursed" him that God would either paralyze him or make him lose his mind.
The book also covers Philip's personal journey in being called to God. He attended the same Bible college that his brother first went to, but struggled with his faith and mightily questioned everything including college rules, the integrity of his professors, etc. He also served as a vessel of communication between his psychologically challenged brother and difficult (and probably also psychologically challenged) mother.
I do enjoy reading how people survive through life's challenges, like keeping a roof over your head and providing for two children as a widow. I also found it fascinating reading about all the different living situations Philip found himself in, and how he adapted/survived. His eyes became open to the scourge of racism which he had been accustomed to growing up in the south during the sixties. Overall, this was an enlightening and interesting read.
Thank you to the publisher Convergent Books / Random House for providing an advance reader copy via NetGalley.
Philip Yancey has been a writer of religious themed books for decades, but this one is a true memoir of his upbringing. His parents were southern fundamentalists from Atlanta, Georgia who planned on being missionaries to Africa. But after having two sons (Marshall and Philip), the father died from polio at the age of 24. He had been fighting the disease attached to an iron lung machine at the hospital, but his religious sensibilities propelled him to leave against medical advice. The mother, grief-stricken at her husband's burial site, dedicated her two son's lives in service of God.
The now widowed Mrs. Yancey never even considered re-marrying, but steadfastly and determinedly raised the two boys on her own, deriving some charity income from her home church in Philadelphia as well as teaching bible study in various capacities. They moved practically every year, the boys having to keep changing schools, because of the need to find cheaper living accommodations. Eventually they wound up buying the cheapest version of a trailer which could be moved to various locations as needed (at one point church grounds where Mrs. Yancey taught), but at least it was theirs.
The author Philip was the younger of the sons. He learned to read well before even going to school, by his own design. He would see his mother and aunt mysteriously gleaning information from newspapers, and was hungry to crack the code. They weren't allowed to go to movies (not that they had the money anyway) or watch TV, so reading became a gift where one could travel in one's mind. Older brother Marshall had an exquisite talent for playing the piano, and also for standing up to their fire and brimstone mother. When Marshall decided to transfer out of one Bible study college for a more liberal one, Mother Yancey became so incensed that she "cursed" him that God would either paralyze him or make him lose his mind.
The book also covers Philip's personal journey in being called to God. He attended the same Bible college that his brother first went to, but struggled with his faith and mightily questioned everything including college rules, the integrity of his professors, etc. He also served as a vessel of communication between his psychologically challenged brother and difficult (and probably also psychologically challenged) mother.
I do enjoy reading how people survive through life's challenges, like keeping a roof over your head and providing for two children as a widow. I also found it fascinating reading about all the different living situations Philip found himself in, and how he adapted/survived. His eyes became open to the scourge of racism which he had been accustomed to growing up in the south during the sixties. Overall, this was an enlightening and interesting read.
Thank you to the publisher Convergent Books / Random House for providing an advance reader copy via NetGalley.
January 17, 2022
I read this book because it was on some “best books of 2021” reading lists. This book was really a rant about his family and legalistic Christian upbringing; basically a Christianized version of Hillbilly Elegy, but Hillbilly Elegy did it better (with more language of course.) Leaves you feeling uneasy because there’s little hope ever mentioned by the author (who is known for writing on grace!) If Yancey is going to go on for hours about how he was mistreated (and I agree he had a rough childhood), it would have been nice to have the gospel described and applied at the end of the book. We hear about requests for forgiveness, the word “grace” mentioned a lot, but not much of either applied to those who hurt Philip and his brother.
May 30, 2022
It doesn’t seem like there should be any route out of his angry fundamentalist upbringing that leads to grace, but somehow Phillip Yancey found a way. He says this is a prequel to his other books, explaining how and why he has come to spend so much of his life writing books that raise questions about suffering and grace. I’ve honestly not read many of his works, but I’m hungry to hear more from him after reading this book. So for me, this book really will be a prequel. For many, though, it will help explain how God brought him nearer and nearer to his own heart, almost in spite of his “Christian” home. I was rapt with attention up until the final page, and found myself wiping tears several times near the end. He says “An idea cannot be responsible for those who claim to believe it” and this book is really his way of explaining how he was able to excavate through the troubling teachings of his youth to find the pearl of the gospel. Ultimately he concludes that the gospel of grace is still true, still beautiful, still good, and still worth finding. What a story. Don’t wait on this one.
Reminds me of Educated by Tara Westover in some ways. Would make a great book club read.
Reminds me of Educated by Tara Westover in some ways. Would make a great book club read.
April 17, 2021
When I opened my advanced copy of Where the Light Fell, I couldn’t put it down. The lyrical stories lifted me off the page, moving me swiftly from one scene to another. I traveled back in time to Philip Yancey’s childhood and teen years. I winced at his pain and celebrated his achievements. Some of his tragic experiences appear impossible to reconcile with the presence of a good and loving God.
And yet, much like the Japanese art of Kintsugi – in which broken pottery is mended with seams of golden lacquer, creating a much more valuable object – Philip gradually reveals a glowing thread, wonderfully woven through each episode, one that beautifies even the most sorrowful scars.
I have gained a deeper understanding of Philip’s motivation for writing, and a richer appreciation of the steep price of his eloquent words. Where the Light Fell: A Memoir
And yet, much like the Japanese art of Kintsugi – in which broken pottery is mended with seams of golden lacquer, creating a much more valuable object – Philip gradually reveals a glowing thread, wonderfully woven through each episode, one that beautifies even the most sorrowful scars.
I have gained a deeper understanding of Philip’s motivation for writing, and a richer appreciation of the steep price of his eloquent words. Where the Light Fell: A Memoir
May 8, 2021
I will be pondering this book for many days. Philip Yancey calls this a prequel to his other books. The formative years he describes explain an adult lifetime of writing about pain and grace.
His family, like all families, has a generational legacy of dysfunction. But Yancy's family dysfunction is combined with legalistic religiosity, the social dysfunction of the 1950's South, and the profound personal tragedy of losing a father.
Yet a thread of grace runs through the story. Yancey's relationship with his brother, his kind grandparents, the gifts of intelligence and musicality all contribute goodness and hope. There is no tidy ending. Knowing the grace of God does not explain life. But it does allow a person to accept the messiness of it with that same grace - or at least a version of it.
Yancey's writing is brave and I'm glad he has shared it.
I was provided an advance copy through #NetGalley #WheretheLightFell
His family, like all families, has a generational legacy of dysfunction. But Yancy's family dysfunction is combined with legalistic religiosity, the social dysfunction of the 1950's South, and the profound personal tragedy of losing a father.
Yet a thread of grace runs through the story. Yancey's relationship with his brother, his kind grandparents, the gifts of intelligence and musicality all contribute goodness and hope. There is no tidy ending. Knowing the grace of God does not explain life. But it does allow a person to accept the messiness of it with that same grace - or at least a version of it.
Yancey's writing is brave and I'm glad he has shared it.
I was provided an advance copy through #NetGalley #WheretheLightFell
July 17, 2024
I swallowed this down in two gulps. There is much to ponder. It had the grip and vibe of Tara Westover's Educated.
I used to read Yancey's column in Campus Life magazine when I was in high school. I was raised close enough to Yancey's fundamentalism to recognize and nod ("Every Head Bowed and Every Eye Closed"); but I'm grateful that my upbringing didn't include the egregious parts of his.
The weakness of the whole "performance model" of Christian living was amplified in this book.
Reading this evoked many emotions: melancholy, sadness, poignance, and chuckles.
After his father died, Yancey's mother gives a "you're the man of the house now" talk to Yancey's brother. Marshall nodded and accepted the weight of that burden as solemnly as a three-year-old could do. He informed Mother that he should take charge of my spankings right away.
I used to read Yancey's column in Campus Life magazine when I was in high school. I was raised close enough to Yancey's fundamentalism to recognize and nod ("Every Head Bowed and Every Eye Closed"); but I'm grateful that my upbringing didn't include the egregious parts of his.
The weakness of the whole "performance model" of Christian living was amplified in this book.
Reading this evoked many emotions: melancholy, sadness, poignance, and chuckles.
After his father died, Yancey's mother gives a "you're the man of the house now" talk to Yancey's brother. Marshall nodded and accepted the weight of that burden as solemnly as a three-year-old could do. He informed Mother that he should take charge of my spankings right away.
February 4, 2022
Maybe this isn't fair, but I'm granting three stars ("liked it" per Goodreads' standards) due to the heaviness of this memoir. I almost stopped reading halfway through simply because of the stories being told--and maybe because I could relate to more than a few.
The writing is impeccable, clear, and honest--what you would expect from a longtime best-selling author. But for a book titled Where the Light Fell, this early autobiography from Yancey felt like a long walk in a dark wood.
Yancey offers the unvarnished truth of his memories, and it's hard to digest. I had no preconceptions coming into this book, but I wouldn't have guessed that this story is the life story of a man who's written so many best-selling books for Christians.
Then again, this book plays into the stereotype that suffering produces art, or that creatives typically have difficult upbringings.
I wouldn't call this book inspirational. Like life, it doesn't resolve the way we want our stories to.
Maybe I did bring preconceptions to this book: I assumed it would inspire me the same way his previous books have. But I have a sneaking suspicion the next time I read one of Yancey's other books, I'll see that those books are where the light ultimately fell.
The writing is impeccable, clear, and honest--what you would expect from a longtime best-selling author. But for a book titled Where the Light Fell, this early autobiography from Yancey felt like a long walk in a dark wood.
Yancey offers the unvarnished truth of his memories, and it's hard to digest. I had no preconceptions coming into this book, but I wouldn't have guessed that this story is the life story of a man who's written so many best-selling books for Christians.
Then again, this book plays into the stereotype that suffering produces art, or that creatives typically have difficult upbringings.
I wouldn't call this book inspirational. Like life, it doesn't resolve the way we want our stories to.
Maybe I did bring preconceptions to this book: I assumed it would inspire me the same way his previous books have. But I have a sneaking suspicion the next time I read one of Yancey's other books, I'll see that those books are where the light ultimately fell.
May 13, 2023
Another memoir win, sealing this as my favorite genre.
It was incredible to get a glimpse into the raw, vulnerable aspects of Yancey's upbringing and family life.
It was incredible to get a glimpse into the raw, vulnerable aspects of Yancey's upbringing and family life.
October 28, 2021
A searingly honest memoir about growing up within a fundamentalist Christian community in the south with an emotionally abusive mother and a brother who was brilliant but damaged. Yancey was raised a racist and he addresses that unflinchingly. His honesty about his shortcomings and poor choices is humble and illuminating. Anyone who has been raised in a religious family will be able to relate to a lot of things Yancey had to deal with, but his own experiences are pretty unique and make for absorbing and reflective reading. Unputdownable.
#netgalley
#netgalley
June 23, 2021
First sentence: Not until college do I discover the secret of my father’s death. My girlfriend, who will later become my wife, is making her first visit to my home city of Atlanta, in early 1968. The two of us stop by my grandparents’ house with my mother, have a snack, and retire to the living room.
Where The Light Fell is Philip Yancey's memoir. After reading it, it clarifies why his books are almost always touching on two subjects: PAIN and GRACE. For the record, I don't think I've read any of his solo books. Yes, I know he's been around forever and ever--five decades. (His books include: What's So Amazing About Grace?, The Jesus I Never Knew, Where Is God When It Hurts?, Disappointment with God, Soul Survivor, Prayer: Does It Make a Difference?, What Good is God?, The Bible Jesus Read, etc.)
What should you know?
It is a memoir. That sounds obvious. Yet, in skimming the reviews of it so far, I've stumbled across some comments like all this guy talks about is his life. Yes, it's a memoir. He's going to talk about his life.
Yancey is a Christian. But. His faith didn't come easy. He may have been raised in a Christian home, but that complicated matters whether than eased them. That's not me making assumptions. That is his reflection. The book doesn't sugarcoat his long, difficult, uncomfortable, uneasy journey from Christian-in-name-only to actual-Christian. He knew how to put on a show, put on a Christian face, talk Christian-ese, pass as a believer, etc. But he felt it was fake, knew it to be fake. This book spends a great deal of time in his squirming struggles to come to terms with who he is and who God is.
Yancey is human. Again obvious, I know. But his memoir is in many ways ABOUT dysfunctional families. As Tolstoy says, "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." The book is about the strained relationships certainly. Readers learn a lot about his mother and his brother.
I'll also add this one shines a light on issues like MENTAL HEALTH and RACISM.
Some might accuse Yancey of being "woke" or going "woke." But if he is, he made that journey decades ago. He was raised racist--and some of that racism was explicitly taught in his Independent Fundamental Baptist church. But also most of his schooling occurred BEFORE integration. He was coming of age during the Civil Rights Movement. And there was tension and conflict. He had to wrestle with ideas and beliefs. He determined for himself that it was wrong, wrong, super-wrong. And that he had to break away from what he'd been taught.
He was raised in an extreme. He grew up Independent Fundamental Baptist. And again he had to wrestle with himself--with ideas, beliefs, etc--to determine what he actually believed. Sometimes that meant departing from the super-strict sometimes arbitrary nature of the IFB. He did attend a Bible college. Rejecting the toxic elements of his past did not--for him--mean tossing God too. But it was a process of separating out what does the Bible actually say AND what do they say the Bible says.
This one might need a couple of trigger warnings. Especially in regards to verbal, mental, emotional, spiritual abuse. It is a heavy read in some places. And it clearly shows the long-term dangers of childhood trauma. Another additional trigger warning about suicidal thoughts and attempts.
It is blurring the lines--a bit--when it comes to comfort zones. At least for me. This book really GOES all the way when it comes to his troubled brother. These are real-life issues. I don't doubt it for a minute. But it's a LOT to take in. And I'm not sure I need to know all the sexual transgressions of his brother in the free love years.
Quotes:
My father isn’t even a memory, only a scar.
Certainly, no one could accuse our mother of “unspiritual” behavior. Unlike some women in our church, she has never worn a pair of slacks, nor does she wear nail polish or makeup, not even lipstick. She never fails to have lengthy personal devotions every morning, and she teaches the Bible for a living. What chance do two adolescent kids stand against such an authority? Mother claims she hasn’t sinned in twelve years—longer than I’ve been alive. She follows a branch of the holiness tradition that suggests Christians can reach a higher spiritual plane, a state of moral perfection. The pastor of her Philadelphia church uses a glove to illustrate the point. “The Holy Spirit lives inside you like my fingers in this glove,” he says. “It’s not you living now; it’s the Spirit of God in you.”
Our three-person family isn’t working anymore. I have no way to put into words the changes going on, but something is tearing me inside. I want to run up to someone I recognize in church and say: “Please, please can you help us. I need someone to know what’s happening at home.” Then I remember my mother’s reputation and realize that no one will believe me. She’s a saint, the holiest woman in Atlanta.
The church has clearly lied to me about race. And about what else? Jesus? The Bible?
Slowly it sinks in that nothing that Marshall or I do will please Mother, that our lives are a stabbing reminder of her own failed dreams and especially the dream—the vow—she had for us. It dawns on me, that’s why she’s so insistent about the Bible college. She can feel us slipping away.
Perhaps, the thought crosses my mind, I am resisting not God but people who speak for God. I’ve already learned to distrust my childhood churches’ views on race and politics. What else should I reject? A much harder question: What should I keep?
Lenin once said that he refused to listen to Beethoven because the music made him want to pat children on the head. There are no small children on the college campus, but now I understand what he means.
Those who appear the least lovable usually need the most love.
Where The Light Fell is Philip Yancey's memoir. After reading it, it clarifies why his books are almost always touching on two subjects: PAIN and GRACE. For the record, I don't think I've read any of his solo books. Yes, I know he's been around forever and ever--five decades. (His books include: What's So Amazing About Grace?, The Jesus I Never Knew, Where Is God When It Hurts?, Disappointment with God, Soul Survivor, Prayer: Does It Make a Difference?, What Good is God?, The Bible Jesus Read, etc.)
What should you know?
It is a memoir. That sounds obvious. Yet, in skimming the reviews of it so far, I've stumbled across some comments like all this guy talks about is his life. Yes, it's a memoir. He's going to talk about his life.
Yancey is a Christian. But. His faith didn't come easy. He may have been raised in a Christian home, but that complicated matters whether than eased them. That's not me making assumptions. That is his reflection. The book doesn't sugarcoat his long, difficult, uncomfortable, uneasy journey from Christian-in-name-only to actual-Christian. He knew how to put on a show, put on a Christian face, talk Christian-ese, pass as a believer, etc. But he felt it was fake, knew it to be fake. This book spends a great deal of time in his squirming struggles to come to terms with who he is and who God is.
Yancey is human. Again obvious, I know. But his memoir is in many ways ABOUT dysfunctional families. As Tolstoy says, "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." The book is about the strained relationships certainly. Readers learn a lot about his mother and his brother.
I'll also add this one shines a light on issues like MENTAL HEALTH and RACISM.
Some might accuse Yancey of being "woke" or going "woke." But if he is, he made that journey decades ago. He was raised racist--and some of that racism was explicitly taught in his Independent Fundamental Baptist church. But also most of his schooling occurred BEFORE integration. He was coming of age during the Civil Rights Movement. And there was tension and conflict. He had to wrestle with ideas and beliefs. He determined for himself that it was wrong, wrong, super-wrong. And that he had to break away from what he'd been taught.
He was raised in an extreme. He grew up Independent Fundamental Baptist. And again he had to wrestle with himself--with ideas, beliefs, etc--to determine what he actually believed. Sometimes that meant departing from the super-strict sometimes arbitrary nature of the IFB. He did attend a Bible college. Rejecting the toxic elements of his past did not--for him--mean tossing God too. But it was a process of separating out what does the Bible actually say AND what do they say the Bible says.
This one might need a couple of trigger warnings. Especially in regards to verbal, mental, emotional, spiritual abuse. It is a heavy read in some places. And it clearly shows the long-term dangers of childhood trauma. Another additional trigger warning about suicidal thoughts and attempts.
It is blurring the lines--a bit--when it comes to comfort zones. At least for me. This book really GOES all the way when it comes to his troubled brother. These are real-life issues. I don't doubt it for a minute. But it's a LOT to take in. And I'm not sure I need to know all the sexual transgressions of his brother in the free love years.
Quotes:
My father isn’t even a memory, only a scar.
Certainly, no one could accuse our mother of “unspiritual” behavior. Unlike some women in our church, she has never worn a pair of slacks, nor does she wear nail polish or makeup, not even lipstick. She never fails to have lengthy personal devotions every morning, and she teaches the Bible for a living. What chance do two adolescent kids stand against such an authority? Mother claims she hasn’t sinned in twelve years—longer than I’ve been alive. She follows a branch of the holiness tradition that suggests Christians can reach a higher spiritual plane, a state of moral perfection. The pastor of her Philadelphia church uses a glove to illustrate the point. “The Holy Spirit lives inside you like my fingers in this glove,” he says. “It’s not you living now; it’s the Spirit of God in you.”
Our three-person family isn’t working anymore. I have no way to put into words the changes going on, but something is tearing me inside. I want to run up to someone I recognize in church and say: “Please, please can you help us. I need someone to know what’s happening at home.” Then I remember my mother’s reputation and realize that no one will believe me. She’s a saint, the holiest woman in Atlanta.
The church has clearly lied to me about race. And about what else? Jesus? The Bible?
Slowly it sinks in that nothing that Marshall or I do will please Mother, that our lives are a stabbing reminder of her own failed dreams and especially the dream—the vow—she had for us. It dawns on me, that’s why she’s so insistent about the Bible college. She can feel us slipping away.
Perhaps, the thought crosses my mind, I am resisting not God but people who speak for God. I’ve already learned to distrust my childhood churches’ views on race and politics. What else should I reject? A much harder question: What should I keep?
Lenin once said that he refused to listen to Beethoven because the music made him want to pat children on the head. There are no small children on the college campus, but now I understand what he means.
Those who appear the least lovable usually need the most love.
July 20, 2021
I read What's So Amazing About Grace?] decades ago and it impacted me greatly. After reading Yancey’s memoir Where The Light Fell, I now understand why the impact was so great: he writes from experience- his own dramatic, personal experiences with GRACE.
I am thwarted from sharing profound highlights; per publisher request, reviews and quotes from the book are not to be published by reviewers until after the book’s October publication date.
Mr. Yancey addresses a broad range of people and I highly recommend it to people of faith, people who have lost faith, or people who never had a faith experience. It is emotionally deep (and sometimes dark), but through the painful experiences Mr. Yancey shares, it is also spiritually moving, offering insights to redemptive truths and important thematic messages. I am gleaning insights about my own life and experiences as I reflect on this powerful memoir.
Needless to say, I will be revisiting Phillip Yancey. I have always enjoyed his books but now I want to reread them with the perspective I have gained from reading his perplexing and powerful memoir.
Thank you Netgalley, the author and publisher for an ARC of this thought provoking memoir.
I am thwarted from sharing profound highlights; per publisher request, reviews and quotes from the book are not to be published by reviewers until after the book’s October publication date.
Mr. Yancey addresses a broad range of people and I highly recommend it to people of faith, people who have lost faith, or people who never had a faith experience. It is emotionally deep (and sometimes dark), but through the painful experiences Mr. Yancey shares, it is also spiritually moving, offering insights to redemptive truths and important thematic messages. I am gleaning insights about my own life and experiences as I reflect on this powerful memoir.
Needless to say, I will be revisiting Phillip Yancey. I have always enjoyed his books but now I want to reread them with the perspective I have gained from reading his perplexing and powerful memoir.
Thank you Netgalley, the author and publisher for an ARC of this thought provoking memoir.
September 15, 2021
Through the first few chapters of this memoir, I worried that I was reading another Educated -- brutal for the sake of being brutal. But Philip Yancey's tumultuous upbringing set the stage for a life lived in pursuit of God despite the pain and temptation the world inflicts. This respected Christian author tells the story of his fundamentalist Southern background and broken family in a way that's both honest and compassionate. I've never read any of his other work, and I think I need to fix that.
I received an ARC in a Goodreads giveaway in exchange for an honest review.
I received an ARC in a Goodreads giveaway in exchange for an honest review.
October 15, 2021
Summary: A memoir of coming out of a fundamentalist, racist, and abusive upbringing. One reviewer described this as a prequel to his other books on grace and suffering.
There are few names in Christian publishing that are more recognizable than Philip Yancey. He started his career writing for Campus Life and Christianity Today but became widely known for his books, most reflections on suffering and/or grace. Yancey has written about 30 books, depending on how you count books he contributed to or edited. And he has sold roughly 15 million copies of those books. He has been widely influential.
Philip Yancey is part of my parent's generation, turning 72 next month, and I think it is natural for authors to think about memoirs and influences at that point. It is not that younger authors can't also write memoirs; Danté Stewart's Shoutin' in the Fire is an excellent reflection of an author in his 30s. But memoirs that are written toward the end of life have a different type of reflective ability.
Where the Light Fell primarily deals with Yancey's childhood and early adulthood before he became a writer. This is a book about what influenced him with a final chapter that grapples with that history, one that I read twice. The book is unflinching but charitable. There is a lot of pain here. And a clear view of the impact of generational trauma. Yancey is not a Christian author that tends to tie everything up in neat bows. At the end, there is still pain and disfunction.
Philip Yancey was the youngest of two children, born in 1949, three years after his older brother. His parents had what appears to be a storybook romance. His father was in the military at the end of WWII. He was invited to the home of a church member after attending church soon after becoming a Christians. His mother was living with that family while supporting herself through college to become a teacher. They met and soon married. He soon became wrapped up with her dream of becoming a missionary to Africa. They finished bible school, and he taught at a black bible college in Atlanta as they raised support. But soon after Philip was born, his father contracted polio and died before Philip had a conscious memory of him.
It was only in his 20s while introducing his wife to his grandparents, that Philip saw a newspaper article that changed his understanding of that death. The article talked about how his father had left Grady Hospital, where he was in an iron lung, and went to a chiropractic rehabilitation center because he believed that he would be miraculously healed so that the family could go to Africa as missionaries. Unfortunately, days after leaving the iron lung, he died. Not long later, his widowed mother committed the two boys to be missionaries in Africa as a kind of consolation for the loss of her dream. She raised the boys in a strict fundamentalist holiness tradition. Her meager widow's pension was supplemented by bible teaching, both paid and unpaid roles.
Yancey is generous to his mother in many ways. Providing context to not just the difficult circumstances but also the culture and family history of his mother's upbringing and deprivation. But there is no question that this was an abusive household, primarily with tools of emotional and spiritual abuse. But within the context of overt racist, hierarchical theology and confrontational KJV-only fundamentalism. In being generous to his contexts, he does not shy away from the implications and harms of that background. Nor does he shy away from grappling with his complicity in racism or cruelty toward others.
Part of what his life of grappling with pain and suffering has meant is that grace is essential because we are in a world of suffering and pain. But grace does not mean that everything gets fixed. His still-living 96-year-old mother has never read any of his books. She still believes that Philip and his brother have sinned against God by not becoming missionaries as she desired. His brother has not directly talked to his mother in nearly 40 years, with only a few letters back and forth and Philip as an intermediary. His brother rejected Christianity in his 20s still identifies as an atheist.
The strength of Where the Light Fell is in the grappling, not just the story. Yancey is a talented writer. The book is gripping and challenging to put down. But the value isn't only the prose; it is also the theological reflection that seeks out grace even when it is hard to see.
October 31, 2021
This memoir is, I think, a cathartic exercise for Yancey. It often seems to be a healing experience to recount the toxic events from youth and that is what Yancey does. He takes us up to the last of his elementary school years in the first half of the book. His father died of polio when Yancey was still a toddler so he was raised by a single mom. His memories include having pets, going to the dentist, sticking a raisin up his nose, sibling rivalry, antics during long sermons at a fundamental church, skipping a grade in elementary school, the Cold War, changing schools, southern stories, racist relatives, odd cousins, his mother unraveling, Bible camps and more.
Yancey then writes about high school, his fascination with science, breaking his bones repeatedly, self awareness and personality, attending a Bible college, having his first authentic spiritual experience, his older bother's spiritual crisis and later mental breakdown and drug habit, and graduate school and entering a career in writing.
Yancey does share a few thoughts on his life near the end of the book. He writes about suffering and grace. But the thrust of the book is Yancey's history alone. He writes in the Author's Note, “Looking back, I wanted to understand myself, as well as the environment that helped form me.” (4430/4463) He did so, he says, the only way he knows how, by writing.
I am not sure of the benefit of this book to the readers. It is a good example of how one one man made it through toxic experiences with a mature faith while his brother did not. What is missing, however, is how Yancey did make it through to to being the Christian he is today. Perhaps he has shared that in other books he has written but he does not do so here. So, if you want to read an engaging account of Yancey's experiences, this is your book. If you want insights into surviving similar toxic experiences, you will have to look elsewhere.
I received a complimentary egalley of this book from the publisher. My comments are an independent and honest review.
Yancey then writes about high school, his fascination with science, breaking his bones repeatedly, self awareness and personality, attending a Bible college, having his first authentic spiritual experience, his older bother's spiritual crisis and later mental breakdown and drug habit, and graduate school and entering a career in writing.
Yancey does share a few thoughts on his life near the end of the book. He writes about suffering and grace. But the thrust of the book is Yancey's history alone. He writes in the Author's Note, “Looking back, I wanted to understand myself, as well as the environment that helped form me.” (4430/4463) He did so, he says, the only way he knows how, by writing.
I am not sure of the benefit of this book to the readers. It is a good example of how one one man made it through toxic experiences with a mature faith while his brother did not. What is missing, however, is how Yancey did make it through to to being the Christian he is today. Perhaps he has shared that in other books he has written but he does not do so here. So, if you want to read an engaging account of Yancey's experiences, this is your book. If you want insights into surviving similar toxic experiences, you will have to look elsewhere.
I received a complimentary egalley of this book from the publisher. My comments are an independent and honest review.
November 29, 2021
I could hardly put this book down. I’ve read maybe one and a half of Yancey’s previous books, but after hearing an interview about his memoir I was intrigued. Sometimes you wonder if all the best parts were in the interview, but in this instance the book was even better than I had hoped. There is some mature content in the last third of the book, but Yancey seeks to tell his whole story and the story of his family with honesty and candor. I’m grateful he told his story and hope it helps many others make sense of their own and perhaps even find the grace he has written about so eloquently.
January 12, 2022
I really appreciated this book. Although Yancy is more of my parents' generation, I could relate to his recounting of his childhood in Christian fundamentalism. I love how Yancy has processed his upbringing and how he has held on to what was good and true but also confronted and called out the things that were wrong and misrepresented true Christianity and the teachings of Jesus. This is my first Philip Yancy book, but won't be my last.
May 22, 2022
I’m always in for a good religious memoir. This is a good religious memoir. Does he get everything right? Maybe not. Does he have all of the correct opinions always? Probably not. But I’m not sure I care. This is Yancey processing his life and sharing the sense that he’s made of it with his readers for the purposes of our growth too.
He also frames the whole thing in the present tense. A remarkable choice that few can pull off. But when it goes well (and it goes well here) it’s really so lovely and quite grounding.
He also frames the whole thing in the present tense. A remarkable choice that few can pull off. But when it goes well (and it goes well here) it’s really so lovely and quite grounding.
September 9, 2021
This is my first time in the page of a Philip Yancey book, and I found the writing so smooth and natural that I was drawn right in. This memoir explores the author’s personal life of hurt and suffering—but also what led him to grace. Recommended!
*I received this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
*I received this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
December 12, 2022
This book wrecked me in many aspects. The mother's situation mirrored mine somewhat--without the abuse. Called to the mission field in full-time work, Yancey's mother and father were raising support when he came down with polio. He grew progressively sicker and ended up in an iron lung. After being stuck in the iron lung for a while, his father decided to get out of the iron lung and seek other treatment. [This decision is criticized because he believed God would heal him.] He passed away after several weeks leaving her with two small children. She then could not go to the mission field but worked full time teaching Bible studies.
This is the beginning of the story of Philip Yancey. He describes the abuse he suffered and how they moved around in their little trailer while his mother taught children's bible studies. They grew up in the south and Yancey name-drops ministries that were racist. He shares about his own racist beliefs because of what he had been taught. One particular scene is very devastating with a racist preacher.
Philip Yancey's brother Marshall's story is particularly devastating.
One thing that was important was the idea that beliefs or theology could affect the way someone acted. For example his mother was of the belief that once you were saved you were perfect and didn't sin. That led her to never apologize or think she was doing wrong when she was abusive.
I know some of these ministries intimately and know that there are many, many wonderful people involved in them. But, just the same it called for a lot of soul searching in my own heart.
This is the beginning of the story of Philip Yancey. He describes the abuse he suffered and how they moved around in their little trailer while his mother taught children's bible studies. They grew up in the south and Yancey name-drops ministries that were racist. He shares about his own racist beliefs because of what he had been taught. One particular scene is very devastating with a racist preacher.
Philip Yancey's brother Marshall's story is particularly devastating.
One thing that was important was the idea that beliefs or theology could affect the way someone acted. For example his mother was of the belief that once you were saved you were perfect and didn't sin. That led her to never apologize or think she was doing wrong when she was abusive.
I know some of these ministries intimately and know that there are many, many wonderful people involved in them. But, just the same it called for a lot of soul searching in my own heart.
July 17, 2023
Completely drawn in and impressed by this book! I Recently I have been engaging a lot with stories about the fundamentalist movement- the Duggar documentary, Jill Duggar’s podcast, this book, and some friends’ personal experiences. I am consistently struck by Jesus’ power to work in the midst of gross abuses of power and a twisting of the real gospel.
Yancey is honest, humble, and gracious in this memoir. He does not mince words, and yet at every turn attempts to recognize the hurt that has most likely influenced other’s behavior. I related to him on his academic ascent to Christianity through authors such as C.S. Lewis, Augustine, G.K. Chesterton, and others. That said, like most other Christian academics, at the end of the day his faith is deeply personal and completely dependent on a faith that is given by grace.
It was also a fascinating read from a historical perspective. Yancey has a unique insight into the fear mongering culture of the 1960s and how the fundamentalist church reacted to the chaos in society. Yancey highlights racism by working through his own mindset as a racist teenager in Atlanta during the 60s. His process of undoing that mindset was grounded in humility and a repentance that was refreshing and inspiring.
Finally- so fun that he completed grad school at Wheaton and lived there for two decades! Overall, I would absolutely recommend. Reminds me of Hillbilly Elegy, Glass Castle, Surprised By Oxford, A Severe Mercy, and Educated in different ways.
Favorite quotes:
When I read a good book, I have the almost mystical sense that all of it has happened to me. Or, rather, I want it to happen to me.
It is a curious thing, don’t you know, Cranly said dispassionately, that your mind is supersaturated with the religion in which you say you disbelieve? - James Joyce
Perhaps, the thought crosses my mind, I am resisting not God but people who speak for God… What else should I reject? A much harder question. What should I keep?
Nature teaches me nothing about Incarnation or the Victorious Christian life. It does, though, awaken my desire to meet whoever is responsible for the monarch butterfly.
In the end, my resurrection of belief had little to do with logic or effort and everything to do with the unfathomable mystery of God.
I assumed that surrender to God would involve a kind of shrinking… On the contrary, God’s good world presented itself as a gift to enjoy with grace-healed eyes.
Yancey is honest, humble, and gracious in this memoir. He does not mince words, and yet at every turn attempts to recognize the hurt that has most likely influenced other’s behavior. I related to him on his academic ascent to Christianity through authors such as C.S. Lewis, Augustine, G.K. Chesterton, and others. That said, like most other Christian academics, at the end of the day his faith is deeply personal and completely dependent on a faith that is given by grace.
It was also a fascinating read from a historical perspective. Yancey has a unique insight into the fear mongering culture of the 1960s and how the fundamentalist church reacted to the chaos in society. Yancey highlights racism by working through his own mindset as a racist teenager in Atlanta during the 60s. His process of undoing that mindset was grounded in humility and a repentance that was refreshing and inspiring.
Finally- so fun that he completed grad school at Wheaton and lived there for two decades! Overall, I would absolutely recommend. Reminds me of Hillbilly Elegy, Glass Castle, Surprised By Oxford, A Severe Mercy, and Educated in different ways.
Favorite quotes:
When I read a good book, I have the almost mystical sense that all of it has happened to me. Or, rather, I want it to happen to me.
It is a curious thing, don’t you know, Cranly said dispassionately, that your mind is supersaturated with the religion in which you say you disbelieve? - James Joyce
Perhaps, the thought crosses my mind, I am resisting not God but people who speak for God… What else should I reject? A much harder question. What should I keep?
Nature teaches me nothing about Incarnation or the Victorious Christian life. It does, though, awaken my desire to meet whoever is responsible for the monarch butterfly.
In the end, my resurrection of belief had little to do with logic or effort and everything to do with the unfathomable mystery of God.
I assumed that surrender to God would involve a kind of shrinking… On the contrary, God’s good world presented itself as a gift to enjoy with grace-healed eyes.
August 22, 2024
This, for me, is a 5 star read. It may not be for everyone. However, what caught me was Yancey's ability to walk the line of telling his story, from his perspective, with blunt but kind, self-reflective truthfulness. He did not shy away from truthful observations about himself, his family, or institutions, including churches and Bible colleges.
His story growing up in a fundamentalist, abusive/neglectful home resonated with my own experiences. Reading it made me feel seen, like I'm not crazy for experiencing things as I did, for I saw myself in both Yancey and his brother, as they tried to navigate faith and life after growing up as they did. The honesty with which he shared his own thoughts... It's not easy to be that honest. But it is so important - so that we can see and understand one another and how life shapes us... and our faith. We should not hide the less socially palatable realities, at least not all the time.
Yancey also speaks to the cynic, to the skeptic, with respect, for he was one. He never shys away from the hard questions. "What's real, what's fake?" he and his brother would always ask.
I was deeply moved when Yancey described the experience that brought his faith from fake to real, from fear to grace. And deeply moved by his journey to find out who God really is apart from what he had been taught about God.
"I came to love God out of gratitude, not fear. Above all else, grace is a gift, one I cannot stop writing about until my story ends."
This book brought me to tears. Good tears. Healing tears.
His story growing up in a fundamentalist, abusive/neglectful home resonated with my own experiences. Reading it made me feel seen, like I'm not crazy for experiencing things as I did, for I saw myself in both Yancey and his brother, as they tried to navigate faith and life after growing up as they did. The honesty with which he shared his own thoughts... It's not easy to be that honest. But it is so important - so that we can see and understand one another and how life shapes us... and our faith. We should not hide the less socially palatable realities, at least not all the time.
Yancey also speaks to the cynic, to the skeptic, with respect, for he was one. He never shys away from the hard questions. "What's real, what's fake?" he and his brother would always ask.
I was deeply moved when Yancey described the experience that brought his faith from fake to real, from fear to grace. And deeply moved by his journey to find out who God really is apart from what he had been taught about God.
"I came to love God out of gratitude, not fear. Above all else, grace is a gift, one I cannot stop writing about until my story ends."
This book brought me to tears. Good tears. Healing tears.
October 9, 2022
Philip Yancey does an incredible things in the books by telling a incredibly traumatic story without shaming or blaming anyone, but simply presenting a tale for consideration. I was particularly intrigued and astounded by his tellings of his early childhood. He poignantly articulated a child's perspective on the world ruled by adults, with the insight gained from the perspective of adulthood that a child does not yet have. It really blew me away.
"I learn that the world has two sets of rules, one for adults and one for children. Children must do what big people tell them, whether it makes sense or not, whether they want to or not. Children must apologize when they’re wrong; adults never do. Like God, adults make all the rules—and according to my playmates, my God-fearing mother has way too many rules... Kids can never make fun of adults, but the other way is fine. “Look at the pouty fish,” Mother says when I’m sulking. “Look at that ugly fish pouting with the big lips.” The lesson sticks. If you show your feelings, they mock you. If you don’t—well, how can you not?"
There are so many other thoughts I have about this book and the impression that it left on me, but that one sticks out the most.
I highly recommend this to anyone who grew up in the American church, and anyone, really.
"I learn that the world has two sets of rules, one for adults and one for children. Children must do what big people tell them, whether it makes sense or not, whether they want to or not. Children must apologize when they’re wrong; adults never do. Like God, adults make all the rules—and according to my playmates, my God-fearing mother has way too many rules... Kids can never make fun of adults, but the other way is fine. “Look at the pouty fish,” Mother says when I’m sulking. “Look at that ugly fish pouting with the big lips.” The lesson sticks. If you show your feelings, they mock you. If you don’t—well, how can you not?"
There are so many other thoughts I have about this book and the impression that it left on me, but that one sticks out the most.
I highly recommend this to anyone who grew up in the American church, and anyone, really.
February 24, 2024
I thoroughly enjoyed this book! If you enjoy reading Yancey's other works I would definitely recommend reading this one in the not too distant future. It will definitely lend good perspective to his other writings.
This book moved me. It's not just the story of a prominent Christian author. It's the story of a hurting child, a doubting teenager, a disillusioned mother. My heart breaks for the little boys I've known who desperately need their mothers to say more often, "I love you, you have value." It breaks for the Philips and Marshalls and Mildreds in this world.
And yet through it all, Yancey brings out the themes of suffering, grace, and redemption in a beautiful and profound way.
This book moved me. It's not just the story of a prominent Christian author. It's the story of a hurting child, a doubting teenager, a disillusioned mother. My heart breaks for the little boys I've known who desperately need their mothers to say more often, "I love you, you have value." It breaks for the Philips and Marshalls and Mildreds in this world.
And yet through it all, Yancey brings out the themes of suffering, grace, and redemption in a beautiful and profound way.
February 3, 2023
An engrossing memoir -- couldn't put it down.
I was drawn in by Yancey's honesty. He lived through devastating tragedy and heartache in almost every area of his life. He also saw the very worst of the church -- racism, legalism, fundamentalism, hypocrisy.
Yet I ended the book moved by Yancey's hope despite all the pain and hurt he endured. Life's sorrows can harden and crush a person, or by God's grace, can create some of the world's most gracious, kind, and thoughtful people. Yancey is definitely in the latter camp. A great read.
I was drawn in by Yancey's honesty. He lived through devastating tragedy and heartache in almost every area of his life. He also saw the very worst of the church -- racism, legalism, fundamentalism, hypocrisy.
Yet I ended the book moved by Yancey's hope despite all the pain and hurt he endured. Life's sorrows can harden and crush a person, or by God's grace, can create some of the world's most gracious, kind, and thoughtful people. Yancey is definitely in the latter camp. A great read.
November 29, 2021
For forty years, Philip Yancey has been exploring faith through his writing. He’s won the ECPA Book of the Year twice for The Jesus I Never Knew and What’s So Amazing About Grace. He’s influenced millions with his thoughtful insights in publications like Christianity Today, Reader’s Digest, and more. And through it all, you can see how Yancey very specifically picks on some of the most sensitive areas of faith, combating legalism, questioning suffering, and dealing with Christian hypocrisy. While Yancey has inserted personal anecdotes into his books, he’s always written them like a journalist—he’s objective and separate from the issues he obviously cares and writes passionately about.
Where the Light Fell is a memoir that brings all those thematic elements into focus through the perspective of Yancey’s upbringing in a very rigid and fundamentalist home and church. The opening scene is set with his father’s death from polio. What Yancey didn’t know until adulthood was that his father had demanded to be released from his iron lung machine confident that God would supernaturally heal him.
Mrs. Yancey was left a young widow, alone to raise two children, her hopes of being a missionary dashed with the death of her husband. The faith she followed tended to the extreme and Yancey dives into an exploration of childhood in the 1960s as the son of a fundamentalist Bible teacher. Through his life, Philip is able to offer a unique look into a rather unique time in church history where a specific brand of evangelical Christianity was taking root and being practiced.
Yancey’s relationship with his mother is a large thread that weaves through the book’s chapters. Some very painful memories are revisited as he tries to present his mother’s complexity—her love for Jesus and her abusive temperament—not to make any sense of it, but just to share it as it was. His relationship with his brother becomes a large part of the latter half of the book as sort of a contrast to Yancey’s path his life. His older brother went down some very destructive paths, burned a lot of bridges, and has disavowed faith completely because of the upbringing they both had. Philip uses his brother’s story to show how two people with similar backgrounds can have such different reactions to the same things.
Outside of the relational, Yancey also speaks to major social issues of his time, racism in particular. In fact, it was his own changing views on race—the result of being exposed to others of a different race for the first time—that began to tear down the fundamentalism that he’d been indoctrinated with.
Where the Light Fell sheds light on why Philip Yancey has taken the career path he has. The things he explores and questions he asks all stem from the destructive form of faith he grew up with. His story offers perspective on a pivotal moment in church history as the fundamentalist/evangelical church began to be more entrenched in politics. You get a feel for how some of these rural fundamentalist churches operated in the South in the mid-20th century and the fears they had about the future.
And when you think hard enough, you can see how much of that history is playing out today as fundamentalism/evangelicalism continues to politicize faith, question science, and fear a loss of power and influence. In many ways, the events of Where the Light Fell could be easily updated to today and all the themes would still fit. Through Yancey’s eyes and life, we are invited to see where the church has grown, where it has regressed, and where it has stayed stagnant. Though it’s not explicit, Yancey’s message appears to be directed toward so many evangelical young people who are now questioning their faith and deconstructing from the toxic elements they grew up with. That message is this: There’s a Jesus outside of fundamentalism, a Jesus of grace and love and healing. Look for where the light falls and go there. There is a way out and a way forward.
Where the Light Fell is a beautiful work that reflects on an interesting life from one of Christianity’s most well-known writers. Through light and darkness, hill and valley, Yancey takes us through the faith journey of his life, into the places where the light fell. For some, it’s a expose of fundamentalism; for others, a Gothic southern coming-of-age tale; and for some it’ll be a comforting hug of quiet solidarity and a whisper that they aren’t alone in their struggle.
Where the Light Fell is a memoir that brings all those thematic elements into focus through the perspective of Yancey’s upbringing in a very rigid and fundamentalist home and church. The opening scene is set with his father’s death from polio. What Yancey didn’t know until adulthood was that his father had demanded to be released from his iron lung machine confident that God would supernaturally heal him.
Mrs. Yancey was left a young widow, alone to raise two children, her hopes of being a missionary dashed with the death of her husband. The faith she followed tended to the extreme and Yancey dives into an exploration of childhood in the 1960s as the son of a fundamentalist Bible teacher. Through his life, Philip is able to offer a unique look into a rather unique time in church history where a specific brand of evangelical Christianity was taking root and being practiced.
Yancey’s relationship with his mother is a large thread that weaves through the book’s chapters. Some very painful memories are revisited as he tries to present his mother’s complexity—her love for Jesus and her abusive temperament—not to make any sense of it, but just to share it as it was. His relationship with his brother becomes a large part of the latter half of the book as sort of a contrast to Yancey’s path his life. His older brother went down some very destructive paths, burned a lot of bridges, and has disavowed faith completely because of the upbringing they both had. Philip uses his brother’s story to show how two people with similar backgrounds can have such different reactions to the same things.
Outside of the relational, Yancey also speaks to major social issues of his time, racism in particular. In fact, it was his own changing views on race—the result of being exposed to others of a different race for the first time—that began to tear down the fundamentalism that he’d been indoctrinated with.
Where the Light Fell sheds light on why Philip Yancey has taken the career path he has. The things he explores and questions he asks all stem from the destructive form of faith he grew up with. His story offers perspective on a pivotal moment in church history as the fundamentalist/evangelical church began to be more entrenched in politics. You get a feel for how some of these rural fundamentalist churches operated in the South in the mid-20th century and the fears they had about the future.
And when you think hard enough, you can see how much of that history is playing out today as fundamentalism/evangelicalism continues to politicize faith, question science, and fear a loss of power and influence. In many ways, the events of Where the Light Fell could be easily updated to today and all the themes would still fit. Through Yancey’s eyes and life, we are invited to see where the church has grown, where it has regressed, and where it has stayed stagnant. Though it’s not explicit, Yancey’s message appears to be directed toward so many evangelical young people who are now questioning their faith and deconstructing from the toxic elements they grew up with. That message is this: There’s a Jesus outside of fundamentalism, a Jesus of grace and love and healing. Look for where the light falls and go there. There is a way out and a way forward.
Where the Light Fell is a beautiful work that reflects on an interesting life from one of Christianity’s most well-known writers. Through light and darkness, hill and valley, Yancey takes us through the faith journey of his life, into the places where the light fell. For some, it’s a expose of fundamentalism; for others, a Gothic southern coming-of-age tale; and for some it’ll be a comforting hug of quiet solidarity and a whisper that they aren’t alone in their struggle.
May 31, 2021
Where the Light Fell by Philip Yancey is probably the best book I’ve read so far this year. It was achingly honest; a bird’s eye view of his strict fundamentalist Christian upbringing.
Philip and his brother, Marshall, suffered through their childhood in the face of a graceless, strict, verbally abusive mother and churches that preached hellfire and obedience at all costs. The result was a definite cost in Philip and Marshall’s lives. They experienced a crushing pressure to be perfect. Philip responded by hiding his feelings and Marshall responded by breaking every rule and rejecting Christianity because what he did was never good enough anyway.
Their experiences remind me of two verses from Matthew. Matt. 23:27 “What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people’s bones and all sorts of impurity.” They were forced to be hyper-focused on looking the part, fracturing their psyches. That is such a heavy burden. Jesus doesn’t condone placing heavy weights and burdens upon another. Matt. 18:6 “But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a heavy millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.”
Philip’s unfortunate life events began with a father who died when he was an infant. His mother experienced her own difficult circumstances in childhood and the resulting hardness in her soul from her pain, along with a strict religious framework, formed a mother who ran a graceless home.
This type of honest book about the way strict fundamentalist Christianity functions and harms, is rare and needed in our time. Fundamentalism rewards outward appearances more than telling the truth. People get off track and focus on the wrong things. In Philip’s case, his mother was one person outside the home and someone entirely different inside the home. Philip, over time, was able to tell the truth and confront his mother, even though he knew it would hurt, himself included. He was able to do so in a careful, loving, grace-filled and gentle manner in spite of the harm she had done to him. The pain that was wrought in their lives will never completely be resolved this side of heaven as Philip openly shared. I hate that the pain wasn’t/isn’t fully resolved. I think most of us have one or two difficult relationships where it’s a struggle to get along because of the person’s behavior and/or mental health. This book will be insightful to you as you navigate those difficulties in your own life. .
This one is definitely worth a read.
I received an arc copy from Netgalley and the publisher in exchange for my honest opinion.
Philip and his brother, Marshall, suffered through their childhood in the face of a graceless, strict, verbally abusive mother and churches that preached hellfire and obedience at all costs. The result was a definite cost in Philip and Marshall’s lives. They experienced a crushing pressure to be perfect. Philip responded by hiding his feelings and Marshall responded by breaking every rule and rejecting Christianity because what he did was never good enough anyway.
Their experiences remind me of two verses from Matthew. Matt. 23:27 “What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people’s bones and all sorts of impurity.” They were forced to be hyper-focused on looking the part, fracturing their psyches. That is such a heavy burden. Jesus doesn’t condone placing heavy weights and burdens upon another. Matt. 18:6 “But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a heavy millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.”
Philip’s unfortunate life events began with a father who died when he was an infant. His mother experienced her own difficult circumstances in childhood and the resulting hardness in her soul from her pain, along with a strict religious framework, formed a mother who ran a graceless home.
This type of honest book about the way strict fundamentalist Christianity functions and harms, is rare and needed in our time. Fundamentalism rewards outward appearances more than telling the truth. People get off track and focus on the wrong things. In Philip’s case, his mother was one person outside the home and someone entirely different inside the home. Philip, over time, was able to tell the truth and confront his mother, even though he knew it would hurt, himself included. He was able to do so in a careful, loving, grace-filled and gentle manner in spite of the harm she had done to him. The pain that was wrought in their lives will never completely be resolved this side of heaven as Philip openly shared. I hate that the pain wasn’t/isn’t fully resolved. I think most of us have one or two difficult relationships where it’s a struggle to get along because of the person’s behavior and/or mental health. This book will be insightful to you as you navigate those difficulties in your own life. .
This one is definitely worth a read.
I received an arc copy from Netgalley and the publisher in exchange for my honest opinion.
October 25, 2021
Yancey's mom said she hadn't sinned in twelve years. She dedicated him and his brother to God, to be missionaries to Africa in the place of their father, who died from polio before he reached the mission field. Their father didn't just die from polio—he died after he had himself removed from the iron lung because he believed the prayers of his supporters couldn't fail.
What do you do with an upbringing like that, raised in trailer parks, schooled at churches which preach that the "mark of Cain" is being Black?
You either, in the words of Augustine as Yancey quotes, put your faith in the things on which the light falls—or you learn to put your faith in the light itself, the true light which you have to disentangle from the false light, the shadows you were raised to believe were the sun.
Yancey's brother, Marshall, chooses the first path, a total rejection of God and any Christian values. You can't blame him. Yancey doesn't. And yet Yancey finds his way—or he is brought back—to the Christ he was told about but never really knew growing up. It's fascinating and painful to wonder how the two brothers ended up in such different places. Yancey doesn't try to explain the mystery but he responds the only way one can: humble gratitude and a desire to offer up his testimony as a thank-you and a glimpse of light to any other troubled seekers.
One of the beautiful parts of his story is that, as the title says, he was brought back to God through those objects on which the light fell—nature and music and the love of a girlfriend. The objects, although they are not the light themselves, can point us to the light, and that is a great mercy.
Overall, a must-read for anyone seeking to understand Christian fundamentalism or wanting an honest, hopeful picture of what deconstruction—and then reconstruction—can look like.
All my life as I wrote, I heard my brother's voice saying over my shoulder: What is real, and what is fake?
(This is a paraphrase because I had to return my library book before I could copy quotes, alas.)
What do you do with an upbringing like that, raised in trailer parks, schooled at churches which preach that the "mark of Cain" is being Black?
You either, in the words of Augustine as Yancey quotes, put your faith in the things on which the light falls—or you learn to put your faith in the light itself, the true light which you have to disentangle from the false light, the shadows you were raised to believe were the sun.
Yancey's brother, Marshall, chooses the first path, a total rejection of God and any Christian values. You can't blame him. Yancey doesn't. And yet Yancey finds his way—or he is brought back—to the Christ he was told about but never really knew growing up. It's fascinating and painful to wonder how the two brothers ended up in such different places. Yancey doesn't try to explain the mystery but he responds the only way one can: humble gratitude and a desire to offer up his testimony as a thank-you and a glimpse of light to any other troubled seekers.
One of the beautiful parts of his story is that, as the title says, he was brought back to God through those objects on which the light fell—nature and music and the love of a girlfriend. The objects, although they are not the light themselves, can point us to the light, and that is a great mercy.
Overall, a must-read for anyone seeking to understand Christian fundamentalism or wanting an honest, hopeful picture of what deconstruction—and then reconstruction—can look like.
All my life as I wrote, I heard my brother's voice saying over my shoulder: What is real, and what is fake?
(This is a paraphrase because I had to return my library book before I could copy quotes, alas.)
November 3, 2021
Beautiful, gut wrenching, and ultimately hopeful. Yancey details his childhood in an extreme version of Southern fundamentalism— a church context I’d describe as spiritually abusive, or close to it. Parts of it are brutal, yet never really surprising: I thought a lot about how fundamentalism continues to shape American politics, culture, even my own denomination, and how little its had to change. This is basically a deconstruction story, but in the best and most beautiful way. Yancey jettisons the bad stuff but longs for the love and grace of Jesus. There’s so much loveliness here, so much witness-bearing to common grace, the possibility of reconciliation, and more. I really enjoyed this and highly recommend it, especially if you’ve got church baggage you need to work through.
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