I’m never sure whether I’d be better off trying to write a review or just post what I get out of a book like this, and so we’ll just write and see where that gets me to. First of all, we’ll get the vitals out of the way. You should read this book. It is very good. I borrowed this book but will probably end up buying it because it is chock full of analogies and thoughts that I plan on quoting in the future. So do yourself a favour, go out and get a hold of a copy.

The second thing that I needed to get out of the way is the obvious correlation between the sentiments in Bell’s “Velvet Elvis” and Brian McLaren’s “A Generous Orthodoxy”. Both are poets and storytellers at heart, although whereas McLaren’s book feels like you are listening to a well-taught sermon, Rob Bell writes as if you are having a conversation with him. He writes the way he talks, and he talks the way he thinks. The biggest difference is that whereas when you’re reading Brian McLaren you feel like you need to stop and recap to make sure you understand what he’s just said, with Bell you feel like you need to slow yourself down so that you don’t miss some of the gems that are held within.

In a funny way, Velvet Elvis starts putting some of the flesh onto the theology of McLaren’s generous orthodoxy. He talks of theology and doctrines as springs on a trampoline, the ideas that we jump on to get closer to understanding God.  And then when we jump off the bounce that someone else is getting, we jump higher than we possibly could alone. It’s a beautiful image that is profound in both its meaning and its simplicity.

One of the most confronting parts of the book involve Bell telling the very personal story of his struggles with being “superpastor”. Bell’s story as a pastor is an incredible God story. His first service in planting Mars Hill Bible Church with a team of 13 people saw 1000 rock up. No marketing, not even a sign out the front of the church, just something incredible happening. And the church didn’t stop there, before long they ended up buying a shopping centre, and on the story goes.

But Rob tells the story of the pressures of being “the superpastor”. Suddenly everything becomes about pleasing people, about having time for everyone and meeting every expectation and being who people want, or even who you think people want you to be. And it’s hard not to relate to that (although perhaps not quite the whole 1000 people thing). It’s pretty easy to fall into line with what we start believing we have to do.

Velvet Elvis seems in many ways to be Rob Bell’s manifesto. And I really love his assertion that everything is spiritual, a view which forces people to start taking God in every part of our life, seriously as a concept. It’s the same thing that bible teachers the world over have been trying to convey to flocks the world over, but Bell communicates that desire as well as anybody I’ve heard.

I could keep writing but I’m already starting to babble. Read it. Possibly even twice. Pray about what it says. Let God speak to you. It’s a good book!