Finding a suitable summer reading list

Memorial Day weekend is come and gone. And if my greatest accomplishment is to have survived another Lent and Easter in the pastorate and another year as a lecturer at the university, my greatest joy is the thought of a couple of months of program-free living because it leaves me time to read. Not like so much of my reading these days, which turns out to be a multitasking grind. Read for lectures while exercising on the stationary cardiovascular machine, read the magazines while listening to the news and eating. Read the newspaper while ordering coffee and networking at the espresso shop. This is about real, delicious, sit-down-in-a-good-light, take-a-deep-breath-and-plunge-in reading.

A good place for a summer vacation is a place that's beautiful enough to make you feel you've arrived, and which is quiet enough that full immersion reading can occur without interruptions. This summer I'll drive 750 miles, paddle and carry a canoe for a day and half for a six-day stay on a deserted island in the northern wilderness. All I need to do is chop firewood and swat an occasional deerfly. Book heaven.

The average American, according to the research, reads five books a year. And even a bibliophile like me needs to get a pretty good jump on that goal in the summer. So the assembly of a summer reading list is more fun than making a Christmas list.

I'll share my list with you, if you'll share yours with me. And, when we're done, we'll both know a whole lot more about one another than a month of Sundays-after-church chat would tell.

Last summer I got to go to Cambridge, Oxford and London. This summer I will read a book about the 50 scholars from those three towns who were engaged by King James early in the 17th century to create the great English translation of the Holy Bible, named in his honor, of course. "God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible," by Adam Nicholson, was just published by Harper Collins. That'll get me out of this world and into another century, where I can breathe.

Then I've got a delicious collection of 11 essays, really historical snapshots, of the African-American religious experience."This Far by Faith" is written by Quinton Dixie, a professor of religious studies, which makes it credible to my departmental chair, if I should need to justify my pleasure, and by Juan Williams, author of that wonderful bestseller about the civil rights movement, "Eyes on the Prize." And, honestly, the short essay form fits in perfectly with an iced tea break during an afternoon in the garden.

Right now I have started "The Healing Touch," a guide to healing prayer for yourself and those you love (Baker Book House, 2002). It is written by Norma Dearing who is a charismatic Christian that worked for many years with a Catholic healing ministry and is an Episcopalian. That's a rich recipe. This is my "practical" book for the summer, and already I can say that it is encouraging and empowering reading.

Then I've got one for the lazy days beside the sky blue waters, Dan Brown's bestseller, "The Da Vinci Code" (Doubleday, 2003). It was recommended to me as a fascinating mix of fiction and history, art and mystery. What more can a humble preacher ask without blushing?

Lastly, I need to round out the list with something that was written more than 100 ago. My favorite T-shirt signals my deepest anxiety -- it reads "So many books ... so little time." So every summer needs to have at least one of those classics that I always meant to read, but haven't made time for yet. I think I'll read one of Anthony Trollop's comedies of the English Church. He is considered a "lesser novelist" but his ability to satirize anyone who's in the bad habit of taking themselves too seriously is perfectly aimed at my summer target of getting some perspective on life in rural townships.

So, off I go to Barchester Towers.

That's the beauty of books. There are one of the only ways where "long ago and far away" can make you feel so much better living here and now.

Bob Towner is rector of Christ Episcopal Church in Cape Girardeau.