Boyett, a writer, speaker, and marketing professional, has dotted the Christian literary landscape with his Pocket Guide series, which are like CliffsNotes for big topics like "the afterlife" and "sainthood." Boyett's work has also appeared in Salon, Paste, and Relevant Magazine among others.
Unlike Boyett's previous work, which provides informational overviews, O Me of Little Faith is a foray into Boyett's personal life. The story begins with Jason voluntarily taking off his "happy Christian mask" and admitting that he sometimes wonders "if maybe, just maybe we've made the whole [faith in God] thing up." Jason hopes this confession will help doubting readers identify with him and join him in allowing their doubts to fuel their search for God rather than to abandon faith.
He includes refreshingly human stories, stripped of excessive spiritual gloss, about his five-foot, 70-pound framed high-school self struggling to hoist a bench press bar in the weight room. He uses the metaphor of a stack of turtles for the presuppositions on which faith rests. There are even some accounts of him trying to but never actually speaking in tongues.
All of the real-life anecdotes give Boyett a little more credibility, nurturing a familiarity with readers, so that he can delve into religious terms that don't easily slide off the tongue. He does a good job offering intellectual ideas in bite-size summaries, dropping weighty terms like "ontological argument" and "anthropic argument" before getting back to down-to-earth layman's metaphors like reverse brick laying (dismantling the wall we build between God and ourselves).
Throughout the book, Boyett offers an understanding ear for those who doubt, affirming that hiding questions disservices the seeker. He also offers hope for the rocky moments of faith, noting that doubts don't have to paralyze spiritual growth, but that doubt is an intrinsic part of having faith. The two coexist; they work together.
O Me of Little Faith does not feed readers relativism or a celebration of doubt for doubt's sake. Boyett insists that we use doubt for a purpose: to seek deeper faith. In fact, he doesn't let his readers bask in doubt at all. He insists they try the kind of definitive action that has worked in his own life. Go and serve, he advocates. Adopt Jesus' teachings. Do it even if sometimes—as you follow—you get ahead of your ability to believe in the value of every last thing you're doing. Faith isn't just intellectual assent to a set of propositions, Boyett insists. It is also something we do (James 2).
While we pray for peace, we need moral clarity about this war.
As my doubts about his teachings grew, so did a secret fascination with Jesus.
Christian artists work at the intersection of music and climate change.
