5 Books That Impacted Me In 2025

Some books are read and quickly laid aside, leaving little trace on the thought-life of the reader. Other books settle deeply into the leafmould of the mind and exert an enduring influence. As requested by the editor, here are 5 books that impacted me deeply in 2025.

Barclay, John M.G. Paul & the Power of Grace. William B. Eerdmans, 2020.

Had my instructions been to write a brief review on 5 books that I read in 2025, this one would not have been included on my list as I technically read it in 2024. However, I am currently listening to it on Audible and I attended a conference in October of 2025 featuring the author and several interlocutors, so beyond a doubt, the book impacted me greatly over the course of the past year.

Barclay’s contention is that our contemporary notions of grace have been deeply influenced by modern categories that bear little resemblance to the first century Jewish and Greco-Roman cultural context in which Paul wrote. Post-Enlightenment we tend to think in terms of “pure gift”, given with no expectation of return. However, as Barclay demonstrates, gifts in the ancient world were always given with the expectation of an appropriate return, even if only in terms of gratitude and honour. In essence, he argues that we tend to perfect grace in modern ways that do not reflect the perfections Paul intends. Paul’s use of the term tends to reflect an emphasis on incongruity, in the sense that the gift, or grace of God is given to people who do not deserve it.

“Whereas good gifts were (and still are) normally thought to be distributed best to fitting or worthy recipients, Paul took the Christ-gift, the ultimate gift of God to the world, to be given without regard to worth, and in the absence of worth – an unconditioned or incongruous gift that did not match the worth of its recipients but created it.” (p. xviii)

That was what was so unusual about Christian grace in the first century world: the fact that it was given to unworthy recipients. The quintessential expression of this would be in Romans 5 when Paul states, “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8 ESV) While grace in the Christian context should be understood as incongruous, it should not be understood as “free” or “unconditional” in the sense of not expecting a return. The grace given by God enables an appropriate response in the lives of those who receive it. We see this emphasis in several of Paul’s epistles. In his Epistle to the Ephesians, for example, he spends three chapters expounding the grace of God in Christ, and then a further three chapters encouraging an appropriate, grace-fueled, response. The transition verse is found at the midway point of the letter:

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2 with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3 eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. (Ephesians 4:1-3 ESV)

The grace of God is thus incongruous, but it is perhaps better not to refer to it as unconditional. The word ‘unconditional’ can mean two things: without concern for response, or without consideration of prior standing. The latter is accurate; the former is not. The grace given by God enables and expects an appropriate response. It should produce thanksgiving, praise, growth, holiness, service and fortitude in all those privileged to receive it.

I found this book, and the subsequent conversation around it, sharpening my language and emphases in the pulpit and increasing my confidence with respect to the process of my sanctification as a recipient of this unmerited, abundant and incongruous grace – thanks be to God!

Parris, David Paul. Reading the Bible with Giants: How 2000 Years of Biblical Interpretation Can Shed New Light on Old Texts. Second Edition. 2nd ed. Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2015.

Why is it that two people, who are equally committed to the authority of Scripture, can see such different things when they study the same text? Why is it that an interpretation that seems obvious in one era, will later come to be seen as speculative, or eccentric in another? What is the relationship between text, tradition and reader and how does that relationship influence the range of potential meanings we discern within a particular passage? These are just some of the questions being addressed by David Paul Parris in his book Reading the Bible with Giants: How 2000 Years of Biblical Interpretation Can Shed New Light on Old Texts.

Parris is interested in how Reception Theory might be applied to the field of biblical studies to explain “the twists and turns that occur in a text’s interpretive history” and that would “enable contemporary readers to learn from the gifted commentators of the past” (p. 3). At its most basic level, Reception Theory posits three different contexts that must be carefully considered when interpreting a text. The first context involves the author and the original audience. The task of the reader here is to enter the world of the author and the hearers, to the extent that it is possible to do so, in order to understand what the author intended to communicate and how that message would have been heard and received by those being addressed. As Parris notes, “Determining how a text would have been received in its original context is similar to the traditional hermeneutical method that seeks to determine what the author intended when he penned the text” (p. 8). The second context involves the history of interpretation. Here the task of the reader is akin to the work of an archaeologist who sifts through the various layers of interpretation recorded in the sermons, commentaries, creeds, confessions and art that have reflected upon the text in the past. Engaging with this context requires the reader to assume that “a text possesses a potential for meaning that unfolds over the course of time” (p. 9). No singular reader or community of readers will exhaust the meaning of the text, and not all readings will prove to be equally fruitful, in fact some readings may prove “to be theological dead ends” (p. 9). Reception Theory posits a dynamic theory of meaning, which takes seriously both the text and the interpretations that develop from it; as Parris contends, “We need a concept of meaning that is able to incorporate the historically preserved diversity of readings for any passage without disintegrating into a laissez-faire anarchy of personal preferences” (p. 93). The third context involves an appreciation of our own historical context as contemporary readers. None of us approaches the text in a vacuum. We come with a history, a perspective, a set of cultural assumptions, a set of theological commitments and various personal endowments related to our education, natural gifts and life experiences. Understanding these things, and the influence they exert on us as readers, is a crucial step in the application of Reception Theory to our study and interpretation of the Bible.

Perhaps the greatest strength of Parris’ work is its consistent emphasis on the wisdom and fruitfulness of reading the Bible in community. Many people within the post-Enlightenment Western world place unwarranted trust in personal judgment and interpretive method. Parris laments the cultural mindset that assumes that “a lone individual, sequestered in a lab or library, rethinking accepted knowledge on a subject, is able to overturn conventional understanding with a dramatic new breakthrough through the use of a methodology or procedure” (p. 66). Parris’ model commends and requires humility. By exposing the reader to how great thinkers in the past approached the text, Reception History undermines the tendency towards objectivism, which assumes that what the reader sees in the text is simple fact and that if everyone read the passage with an open mind and a faithful heart, they would all see the same thing. Reception History clearly demonstrates the fallacy in that argument and should give the humble reader a moment of pause and a new openness to fresh perspectives on the text.

The application of Reception Theory to the biblical text should also give the reader an appreciation for the potential of a dynamic sense of meaning in the text. As Parris contends, “The idea that a text possesses only one correct interpretation or meaning is related to this modern, objective, methodological approach” (p. 69). Reception History confronts the reader with a breadth of interpretive options to consider.

This book helped to shift something in my own approach to reading and thinking as a Christian. As a modern western person, I naturally incline towards an individualistic approach to the text. As a Protestant, this tendency is further amplified. Without intending to be, I have often been guilty of objectivism, believing that what I see in the text is what is in fact in the text. While the insights of Reception Theory can be abused by those who wish to escape the exegetical boundaries of the text, for those desiring to submit to the meaning of the text, as it is uncovered, the approach outlined by Parris offers a potentially game changing set of insights and tools.

Newbigin, Lesslie. Unfinished Agenda: An Updated Autobiography. Wipf & Stock, 2009.

I read Newbigin’s The Gospel in a Pluralist Society over the summer in 2025 which further inspired an interest in his life and work. I had previously read Foolishness to the Greeks and had begun reading his commentary on the Gospel of John titled The Light Has Come. I read his autobiography in October of this past year. Without a doubt, Lesslie Newbigin was one of the giants of Christianity in the 20^th century. He is less well known in evangelical circles than Billy Graham and John Stott, in large part, because he straddled the line between evangelicalism and mainline Protestantism. He was evangelical by soteriology, but mainline in terms of his belief in and pursuit of ecumenicism. Newbigin was born into a moderately wealthy family in England and was ordained in the Presbyterian Church for the purposes of mission work in 1936. He and his wife Helen were deployed as missionaries to India where they served faithfully for the better part of 30 years. Newbigin was a key player in the formation of the Church of South India in 1947 which brought together Anglican, Methodist, Congregational, Presbyterian and Reformed congregations. He was appointed the Bishop of Madurai in 1949. From 1959 – 1965, while on loan from the denomination, he served in Geneva as General Secretary of the International Missionary Council, and later as the Associate General Secretary to the World Council of Churches. He returned to India in 1965 and was appointed the Bishop of Madras. He retired in 1974 and returned to England where he joined the United Reformed Church, within which he played a leading role for over a decade.

Newbigin was a prolific writer throughout his career. His deep exposure to multiple cultural contexts gave him a unique perspective from which to think about the person and work of Jesus, the nature of the church and the salvation of human beings. Those passions and influences are evident throughout his exegesis of John’s Gospel as presented in The Light Has Come. Newbigin wrote as a person of faith, in pursuit of faith. “I am a Christian believer, and I read the text of the Fourth Gospel as witness to Jesus Christ, the presence of God in human history and therefore the source of truth and life.”[1] Faith for Newbigin, however, was no mere private concern, rather it was something that must be fleshed out in the gathered community:

While the local congregation was essential for Newbigin, the unity of the church as a whole was also a critical concern; he wrote that: “nothing can remove from the Gospel the absolute imperative of unity.” (p. 240). For Newbigin that meant formal unity, a goal towards which he laboured his entire life.

As an evangelical I find myself equally intrigued, inspired, convicted and bewildered by Newbigen. I consider his commitment to the evangelistic reading of the gospel – and particularly the Gospel of John – a model to be followed. Newbigin spent over 30 years reading the Gospel of John in small groups with people from other cultures. He was convinced that the text speaks, and that Jesus speaks within the text. Evangelism for him, even in a cross cultural context, largely consisted of reading the Bible together and building a loving community that embodied the message it was meditating upon. I deeply resonate with that sentiment. However, as an evangelical, I find his commitment to and belief in modern ecumenicism difficult to make sense of. I am convicted by his belief in the importance of unity, but the attempt to pursue structural unity in advance of substantial theological agreement seems foolhardy. As a Protestant, I believe that the true church of Christ exists within a variety of institutional structure and therefore I do not feel the urgency that Newbigin felt to pursue institutional ‘reunions’, as he called them. I agree that formal unity would have an incredible evangelistic and apologetic impact, but I am wary of putting the cart before the horse, so to speak. I believe that we will need to do a great bit of work toward gospel unity before any type of institutional unity would be anything other than a hindrance to our pursuit of the Great Commission.

Augustine, and Edmund Hill, Tractates on the Gospel of John, The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21^st Century. New City Press, 1990. Kindle edition.

Perhaps I should have listed this after my listing of Reading the Bible with Giants by David Paul Parris because it was a natural development of the essential insights gleaned therein. Using Parris’ analogy of the three portraits, I found Augustine’s exposition of the Gospel of John to be mind and soul expanding. While I didn’t agree with everything he said, I found that his reading opened up new and unforeseen possibilities for my own.

Augustine wrote his Tractates on the Gospel of John while engaged in a prolonged and eventually bitter controversy with the Donatists. The Donatists argued that Christian clergy who had denied Christ under persecution could not be restored and that sacraments and ordinations performed by them were to be considered illegitimate. This controversy had essentially divided the African church. In the analysis of Allan Fitzgerald, “Augustine appears to have sensed that preaching on the centrality of Jesus Christ would be an effective way to unite the community. Even though that idea can be found in previous writings, it did not have the force or the coherence that one finds in the commentary on John.”[3] Preaching on the Gospel of John gave Augustine the opportunity to emphasize the centrality of Christ for the life and health of the church, as opposed to the relative worthiness of its human priesthood, while at the same time appealing for reconciliation and formal unity.

While Augustine wrote his sermons on John’s Gospel with one eye on the Donatists, it is equally clear that his other eye was fixed firmly on the pastoral needs of his congregation. It must be remembered that the material gathered in the Tractates on the Gospel of John were originally sermons. It is not a commentary proper, but a collection of homilies delivered to people for whom Augustine had been entrusted with spiritual care. As Peter Brown puts it: “Augustine was certain of his basic role. It was not to stir up emotions: it was to distribute food. The Scriptural idea of ‘breaking bread’, of ‘feeding the multitude’, by expounding the Bible, an idea already rich with complex associations, is central to Augustine’s view of himself as a preacher.”[4] Augustine’s treatment of the Gospel of John demonstrates how one can be polemical and pastoral at the same time.

Given that Augustine’s exegesis is likely foreign to many readers of this brief review, it may be helpful to provide a couple of examples. In dealing with the pericope concerning the Wedding at Cana in John 2, Augustine understands the wine as representing the superior revelation of God in Christ, relative to the lesser revelation of Old Testament prophecy; he says: “that prophecy, when Christ was not understood in it, was water. For, in water, wine is somehow latent.”[5] The gospel of Jesus Christ is thus the “good wine” that was latent in the Old Testament. Whether this is what John intended or not, neither the truth nor the rhetorical value of this insight can be denied.

Augustine’s interpretation of the “two or three measures” later on in John 2, however, provides an example of the type of untethered spiritual reading that many Protestants find difficult to swallow:

In addition to its reference to the Trinity, Augustine also sees a reference here to the worldwide spread of the gospel, for Noah had three sons, from whom came all the people on the earth. Once again, the word count allotted to this speculative reflection seems disproportionate, taking up roughly one-fifth of his entire exposition. While the Trinitarian theology and the missiological optimism he espouses in this section is undeniably orthodox, edifying and encouraging, it is difficult to see how it arises naturally out of the text.

Much of my experience reading Augustine’s Tractates follows this same basic pattern. His exegesis opens up new interpretive possibilities for me, some of which I find intriguing and helpful, and some of which I find implausible and far removed from the words and intention of the text. The Tractates are thus a helpful resource for the reader prepared to balance open mindedness with discernment.

Chester, Stephen J. Conversion at Corinth: Perspectives on Conversion in Paul’s Theology and the Corinthian Church. T&T Clark, 2003.

This is the book I am reading as I close out 2025, so I will deal with it briefly, given that I have not yet had time to fully evaluate its impact upon me. That being said, as of now, more than two thirds of the way through, this book has taken me far longer to read than would be typical for me, given the number of times I have had to stop, think, reflect and journal. I have stopped on multiple occasions in order to draft outlines for several intended blogs or articles – most of which I am sure I will never find time to actually write. These factors together would seem to warrant inclusion on this list.

Chester is interested in a variety of questions: Did the Apostle Paul change religions? Did he understand his call on the Damascus Road as a call to conversion or a call to prophetic and apostolic ministry? Is conversion for a Jewish person different than for a Gentile person? What did Paul expect of his converts in Corinth? What does that tell us about the process and outcome of conversion today?

Chester contends that for Paul, Christianity was not just “Judaism plus Jesus”, it was contiguous but also fundamentally other. Paul’s own experience of succeeding in Judaism, while being ultimately blind to the devastating power of sin in his life, caused him to interpret the grace and calling that he received through Christ as nothing other than a true and full conversion. In Christ Paul was able to see previously unperceived sin and depravity. His conversion was thus a movement from a settled state to a state of crisis. Paul was wrongly content in his Judaism, and only came to see himself as deceived and enslaved through the transformative experience he had with the risen Christ. As Chester asserts, “A clear conscience does not necessarily imply an absence of sin.” (p. 197). It is this conviction of previously unrecognized sin that represents, for Chester, the foundation of the conversion experience.

This motif of “unperceived sin” plays a critical role in Chester’s interpretation of 1 Corinthians 14. He sees ‘prophecy’ as playing a more significant role in the conversion process than ‘tongues’ because it is by prophecy that the secrets of the unbeliever’s heart are laid bare. He understands this to refer to the impact of the word of God, preached and read in the local congregation and used in a prophetic way by the Holy Spirit to convict the unbeliever of previously unrecognized sin.

His exegesis of 1 Corinthians 6:9-11 also yields fruitful insights into the nature of conversion and its impact on the identity and behaviour of the individual. He says:

In essence, conversion creates a new identity that must be worked out, in partnership with the grace that God continuously supplies, in terms of new behaviours. Given that the Corinthians were now children of God, it was no longer appropriate for them to be idolaters or fornicators or swindlers. They must act like who they are. The idea that identity precedes and empowers behavioural change is a fruitful and powerful insight. Chester undergirds this observation by demonstrating that Paul is portraying justification in both forensic and participatory categories. Thus there is a real, ‘legal’ change of status and a new access to powers and potentialities through union with the risen Christ. I look forward to finishing this book in the early days of 2026.

To apply one of the insights gleaned from John Barclay’s Paul & the Power of Grace, if you found this brief review of 5 books that impacted me in 2025 to be a spur and encouragement in your own reading in the coming year, I will consider the labour in producing it to be adequately and appropriately repaid.

SDG,

Pastor Paul Carter

If you are interested in Bible teaching from Pastor Paul you can access the entire library of Into The Word episodes through the Audio tab on the Into the Word website. You can also download the Into The Word app on iTunes or Google Play.

[1] Lesslie Newbigin, The Light Has Come: An Exposition of the Fourth Gospel (W. B. Eerdmans, 1982), viii.

[2] Lesslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society, Reprinted (William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1996), 227.

[3] Allan D. Fitzgerald and Philosophy Documentation Center, “St. Augustine Lecture—2016: Engaging the Gospel of John,” Augustinian Studies 48, no. 1 (2017): 19, https://doi.org/10.5840/augstudies201771830.

[4] Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo: A Biography, A new edition with an epilogue (University of California Press, 2000), 249.

[5] Augustine, and Rettig, Tractates on the Gospel of John, 1-10, 196.

[6] Augustine, and Rettig, Tractates on the Gospel of John, 1-10, 201.