Christian fiction now abounds in ways unexpected even a few years ago. Most of it, however, is drippy with sentimentality and banal in its either seeming ignorance or its seeming refusal to acknowledge the existence of evil. Secular treatment of religious themes is often on the other extreme: full of characterizations of all persons holding religious beliefs as either criminally insane or monumentally stupid.

There are numerous exceptions such as the Chronicles of Narnia. But, truthfully, often authors either with no religious beliefs (or silence about their beliefs more so than atheism) or espousing variant religious beliefs, challenge our thinking on religious issues with greater alacrity than those who claim that their fiction was either Christ centered or somehow Christ inspired.

Now available in paperback is Matthew Pearl’s murder mystery in which nineteenth century literary and religious beliefs are tested, along with the fictional historicity of post-Civil War racism in the northeast. The Dante Club is a marvelous historical speculation about nineteenth century authors, Boston, the first black police officer, mental illness afflicting Civil War veterans, the poetry of Dante, and especially Dante’s life and vision of hell.

Also available in paperback is Tim Powers’ engaging mystery, Declare, about the evil powers trapped on our world since The Flood, briefly mentioned in Genesis, and intriguing speculation about how interaction with them might be carried out by the intelligence services of the various nations in existence from 1930 into the 1960s.

Neither of these books is “new” so they are easily obtainable online. These authors have also written several other books, none of which I have yet read. In Pearl’s book, the characters of 1865 are confronted with the needs of many around them but seem oblivious until they realize their dependence upon a black police officer whom they have not previously regarded. The characters in Powers’ book struggle with their own identity and meaning in light of the overwhelming spiritual powers with which they must contend. Thus, if you’re looking for “Christian fiction,” you might do better to look to these authors to stimulate your imagination.

Based upon the recommendation I saw in World Magazine, I obtained and read a novel by Randy Singer entitled False Witness. For a summer novel, it was not a burden to read but I could not give it high marks. It is a paperback you can buy about anywhere. I got mine online.

The novel was an attempt to explore the intrigue of bounty hunters, corrupt lawyers, mobsters, and incredibly valuable technology that falling into the wrong hands, might destroy our way of life. It even included the naïveté of law school students. It was written in a way to maximize its readability, but that always seems to import a certain amount of shallowness. With a governor on violence, there was also a concomitant impediment to self-examination by the characters. Because they did not go too far, they had little to regret, and without regret, there is no twisting of the soul with which to commiserate or self-examine.

The other thing that made it less noteworthy was that the author, to be a “good Christian author,” minimized sexuality and violence while writing about characters that would not have been less violent than they desired, much less than to meet criminal objectives of the highest magnitude. Likewise, Christian characters were noble in the face of sure death and none suffered from cowardice or avarice. In other words, to protect our sensibilities, the author failed to take us where we are afraid to go, failed to take us where we cannot go, and failed to make us confront our own failings, lusts, and weaknesses. In other words, what was the point of the cost, time or effort spent writing it or reading it?

If you like weak tea, well-done meat, and abhor frantic dancing, then you can safely coast through this novel. But if you want a novel that challenges your emotions, challenges your assumptions, and has something lasting to say, this is not it.