RICHARD BAUCKHAM, The Blurred Cross: A Writer’s Difficult Journey with God. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2024. Pp. 194. $21.99 (US)
I had nearly finished reading The Blurred Cross when I was reminded that I had promised to review it for this journal! That may clue you in to this author’s ability to keep readers engaged without needing an additional incentive. Richard Bauckham raises the eternally anguished question of “why bad things happen to good people.” In this instance, why would a widely-published New Testament scholar—whose life mission depends on reading and writing—start to lose his sight?
What else kept me reading this book? Unlike the theological jargon lay readers may expect from scholars, Bauckham has a simple, accessible writing style which kept me turning pages. His eye problem is both a medical and spiritual struggle. A supporter of British National Health System (NHS) insurance, he nevertheless endlessly details the difficulty of getting appointments for his eye injections and the lack of medical explanations. A lengthy chapter on “Providence” (91-110), wrestles mightily with how “all things work together for good for those who love God” (Rom 8:28). Anyone who has dealt with a seemingly intractable health problem or frustrating bureaucracy can relate to Bauckham’s dilemma.
Richard Bauckham is a British Anglican historian, biblical scholar, theologian, and poet. For many years, he was professor of New Testament studies at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland. Among his hundreds of books and articles, possibly his best-known are Jesus and the Eyewitnesses (2006) and God Crucified: Monotheism and Christology in the New Testament (1998). As one indication of his influence, Messiah University’s library catalog lists nearly two hundred of his titles!
However, by 2015 when Bauckham turned 69, his right eye had succumbed to age-related myopic macular degeneration (AMD), probably as a result of his severe near-sightedness (the British call it “short sight”). He could no longer read with his right eye. For six years, Bauckham’s left eye compensated, but by the spring of 2022, reading had become very difficult. For nearly three months from March to May, it looked like his left eye would follow the same trajectory. This section of The Blurred Cross (37-131) details the challenge and struggle with his eyes during that critical three-month period in 2022. Major chapters in this section are called “The Story: Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4.”
Before describing this section, I must note the conversational tone of this “Story.” Rather than theologizing, Bauckham’s reflections and frustrations are dramatically detailed, as well as deeply spiritual. This highly-trained theologian clings to his earthy, trusting relationship with God throughout his ordeal—a model for the reader!
He first travels to St. Andrews in Scotland to spend a few days at the Franciscan friary in the village of Alnmouth. His last day there was March 17, St. Patrick’s Day, so Bauckham reflects on an old Irish hymn called “St. Patrick’s Breastplate” which begins:
Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me.
When he left Alnmouth, he took with him three things God had given him there: 1) direction for his life ahead: “keep on keeping on”; 2) invocation of Christ’s presence with him; and 3) the entire Breastplate Hymn itself, “with its powerful expression of vigorous faith” (47).
“The Story: Part 2” is called “Losing Sight.” Here Bauckham recaps his experiences with the NHS, where he deals with canceled appointments and medical personnel who do not understand the need for urgency in treating his eyes. He does get his first eye injection on April 5, which seems to stabilize the situation somewhat.
“The Story: Part 3” is titled “God Will Be With Me, Whatever.” It feels like this is “the most difficult time in my whole life,” notes Bauckham. His left eye is getting worse, and straight lines he looks at are getting wavy. The NHS eye clinic keeps postponing injections. No one explains what is happening with his eye. But he does get a special magnifier that enables him to read papers and books.
“The Story: Part 4” explains the title of the book. Bauckham discovers a patch of blur in the center of his left eye, which is downplayed by his NHS doctor. His mood is lower than ever. One day he stops at the hospital chapel to pray and receive communion. Above the altar a plain black cross hangs against a white background. “In my sight it was blurred,” he says—”a meaningful symbol of where I was on the way of following the crucified Jesus” (118). It sustained him as he was losing all faith in his doctors.
At that point, he and his doctor friend Susan decide that he should switch to private health care. In the meantime, however, his eye suddenly started to improve from the shots he had received. “Mr. O,” the private ophthalmologist he visited, explained what was happening in a way his previous NHS doctors never did. Bauckham was grateful he could pay for these advantages “and felt for those people who could not pay” (125). Although he continues with somewhat limited vision, he can fulfill his vocation of reading, writing, and teaching.
Richard Bauckham is also a poet. The last fifty pages of his book include various poems he wrote, with commentary, as well as an essay called “Thanksgiving.” Showing gratitude and thanksgiving to God and others is for him a necessary practice.
Though sometimes overly-detailed, The Blurred Cross can provide a model for believers who, in tough times, need to “keep on keeping on.”