Deep, The Way It Is: Review of Winn Collier’s Biography of Eugene Peterson- A Burning In My Bones

About five years into my life as a pastor, I was ready to quit and apply for law school. And then I picked up Eugene Peterson’s book on pastoral faithfulness “Working The Angles.” I have since learned that my story is not all that uncommon. Reading that book not only nourished my aching soul but gave me a vision for becoming the kind of pastor I could live with being. I have since read every word that I could find that Eugene has written. It feels like I knew him (Eugene Peterson passed away in 2018, I wrote some reflections upon his passing here) and have become acquainted with many people who did know him and spent time with him and his wife, Jan, at their house in Montana. I have so enjoyed hearing their stories that paint, in even more vivid resolution, this man who has had such a profound impact on me. 

Winn Collier’s biography of Eugene’s life, A Burning In My Bones, is the closest most of us will get to hearing the man speak in his gentle, raspy voice but it is a work of profound care and insight. Collier writes with a sermonic eye for words and pastoral intuition offering not only a recounting of events but insights into the man whose life touched, among countless others, the  likes of Phil Jackson, Pat Robertson, and Bono. Collier doesn’t write specifically for pastors but he honors Eugene’s lifelong goals of inspiring and restoring the pastoral imagination of American pastors. Collier frames his recounting of Eugene’s life centrifugally from his pastoral vocation. A prayer in Eugene’s journal illuminates Eugene’s how Eugene’s greatest ambition aligned with his daily work in the parish.

All I want to do is become a saint—but secretly, so no one knows it—a saint without any trappings…Every detail of routine and imagination, every letter I write, phone call made, gesture and encounter—gathered and placed on the altar and bound—every day another trek to Moriah (Kindle location 2985)

Eugene lived chasing congruence, secret sainthood and Collier traces that journey masterfully, allowing the seemingly mundane events of Eugene’s life to add up to something much holier, much more glorious than than they appear at first glimpse. William Stafford, in his poem Bi-Focal writes, 

“So, the world happens twice—
once what we see it as;
second it legends itself
deep, the way it is. 

Collier invites us into the legend, into the depths, into the weight of the way things really are in the life of a man who lived a life before the Lord. And he does so by highlighting the furnace that forged Eugene’s sainthood: the local congregation, the community “of sinners gathered before God” where “one of the sinners is called pastor” (Working The Angles). 

Collier achingly draws out the sense that all pastors have from time to time that we are under-appreciated and alone. Collier tells the story surrounding the introduction to “Working The Angles” where Eugene would “level some of the sharpest words Eugene ever wrote about the conflict between people’s expectations and the work of a pastor” (Kindle Location 2491). Eugene and Jan were about to head off for a sabbatical, they had joined a friend for a tour of the Holy Land. They walked the streets that Jesus, Jacob, and Jeremiah walked sharing the same views that the biblical writers had gazed upon as they pondered the inspiration from the Spirit. It was a rich trip. But, as it goes for leaders, the moment Jan and Eugene touched down back in Baltimore, Eugene received a phone call from a person in the church: people were talking (there’s always a phantom mob), criticizing Eugene, thinking that he was using his upcoming sabbatical as a cover for leaving the church. Collier includes a journal entry of Eugene’s following this contentious meeting with leaders in his church. Eugene writes:

I was furious after Tuesday night’s session meeting… On Wednesday I got through my visits a little early and stopped at the church: from 5:30 to 6 o’ clock I locked myself in the sanctuary and yelled/shouted/prayed for half an hour. Got all the tensions out of my stomach…Haven’t done this for a long time, but it was wonderful, even though temporary. (Kindle location 2492)

Eugene’s insights and observations shared in his books about pastoring were not from the idyllic setting of a “successful church,” rather they were the product of trying experiences from churches just like the one’s we all attend and many of us lead.

Collier gives us insight into the tensions Eugene often felt internally, rarely feeling like he belonged, like Moses in Midian. Collier includes the journal entry from Eugene:

Maybe I need to explore and examine exactly what this Bel Air “exile” means: the cultural depravation, the absence of friends, the separation from mountains and wilderness, the constant fight/struggle for pastor/writer identity (nobody asking me to do what I do best —and what at least a few people across the country affirm is my best). Does this add up to suffering? I feel that it does. (Kindle location 2608).

And perhaps most relatable of all, for every pastor who pastors in the Peterson-sense of the word, is this sense of not measuring up as a leader and at the same time wanting more for the people that we lead than they often want for themselves. Collier relays Eugene’s own sense of the all-too-familiar post-Sunday letdown, where the sense of possibility meets reality where there just aren’t enough people or enough money. Again, Collier expertly lifts Eugene’s voice to the fore as Eugene writes:

And now I reflect back on yesterday—the bittersweetness of each Sunday— the energy and sense of reality; and the hurt of so many absences. Why isn’t everyone there? Why isn’t that sanctuary full on Sunday morning? If worship is as good as people say it is, if I preach this well, if the community is flourishing— why aren’t more people pulled in, more people faithful? This is a deepening hurt and sorrow. I feel the personal rejection, but also the God-rejection—it is not me they are being so feckless with, but God. Do they have any idea what they are missing? What a poor trade they are making.(Kindle location 2618)

A pastoral prayer if there ever was one. 

Collier is not shy about the tensions and shortcomings in Eugene’s life. He features candid conversations with his son Eric, who tells of both glorious long car rides across Eastern Washington and “Timothy’ meetings with his father probing the pastoral vocation and, yet, feeling as if their was always an emotional chasm where he always wanted more from his dad ^[1]A book released this past year, Letters To A Young Pastor, features letters from Eugene to his son, Eric, discussing the pastoral vocation. It fills out this tension nicely and is itself a beautiful … Continue reading. Collier describes Eugene’s battles with alcohol and the very real struggles that Eugene and Jan endured in their overall, quite happy marriage. Again Collier lets Eugene’s voice shine through as Eugene writes, “I think I have not so much been fulfilled in marriage as deepened, chastened, honed, and simplified” (Kindle location 2660).

I wish I could have shared that space, heard Eugene’s whispery voice over the stillness of that mountain air for myself. But for all of us who have been blessed by Eugene’s life and never had the chance to meet him, Winn Collier’s biography, is a beautiful and honest narration of Eugene’s beautiful and honest life.  It’s been said of pastors that we really only get one sermon, we just preach that one over and over again in different ways. The best sermons have compelling stories, practical applications, a good bit of mystery and tension, and focus all of our attention on the grace of God in Christ. Through Collier’s pen we hear Eugene’s life as enacted sermon, a life of congruence. A Burning In My Bones is a work worthy of the man, and worthy of its title as the book is sure to inspire Christian leaders to see how a holy life whether widely known or lived in obscurity “legends itself” and is an invitation for us to fix our eyes upon Jesus and join Eugene in the unwavering quest for congruence.