Balaam son of Beor was riding his donkey down the road with a mission to curse Israel, when an angel from God suddenly stood in the path. The donkey saw the angel, and halted. Three times, the donkey balked and Balaam –– who could not see the angel –– beat his beast rather than turn back.
After the third time, the Lord opened the donkey’s mouth and the creature asked Balaam why he had beaten her. Eventually the angel appeared to Balaam as well, warning him against cursing the Isrealites.
This story from Numbers 22 is the background for Tyler Blanski’s book, “When Donkeys Talk: A Quest to Rediscover the Mystery and Wonder of Christianity.” The idea of riding a donkey carries Blanski’s narrative of his own down-to-earth discovery of a Christianity that is both mysterious and real.
In his youth, Blanski writes that he was a greasy, long-haired skateboarder who led worship at a megachurch. He confesses that he did not take the Bible very seriously and saw Christianity as “therapy” rather than “life-rattling” and true.
But Christianity, he says, has “deep magic” in everything from the atoning blood of Jesus to the unifying power of the Last Supper. The story of Balaam became his theme song for his mission to dispel the modern notion that science and our society, which he calls “Atomland,” can explain the world.
“The love of God is more real than the law of gravity. Angels are everywhere. Any donkey could be a talking donkey. We just need God to open our eyes as he did Balaam’s,” he says.
Blanksi packs metaphysical bags with medieval and modern Christian literature, and sets out on an intellectual journey on an imaginary donkey to discover what it means to be a Christian as God intended.
He keeps up the contrivance fairly well, referencing his donkey at least once in every chapter.
Having steeped himself in Medieval and Renaissance literature at Oxford and the classical languages at Hillsdale College, Blanksi is undoubtedly intellectual. He has studied the Bible and a vast array of teachings (he quotes St. Augustine, G. K. Chesterton, and C.S. Lewis like old friends), and writes with a keen understanding of theology.
Blanski’s literary structure in “When Donkeys Talk” is traditional. He divides the book into seven sections, and provides archaic little plot summaries at the beginning of each section. Then he prepares the reader for his thought unit with a couple of relevant excerpts from works like Miguel de Cervantes’ “Don Quixote,” Wendell Berry’s “Life Is a Miracle,” or the Bible.
Be prepared, however, for a bit of a ramble. While his structure is classic, his style is loose and conversational. Literally. Many of Blanski’s chapters consist mainly of conversations he had with friends about the idea of the mystery of Christianity.
The reader gets to meet his college buddy, “Stephen the Philistine,” his Christian friend Britta, his Jewish agnostic friend Oliver, and several others. As though his donkey is tied up outside of cafés or friends’ houses, Blanski stops in for a chat about his “crazy-ass” theory and records the conversations.
While he may lull the reader to sleep with occasional long-windedness, Blanski’s book is not exactly a safe adventure. It is unpredictable. One minute he is drinking beer and eating pizza and arguing with a non-Christian friend over whether God or natural law governs the universe. The next minute, he is carefully explaining the etymology of the word liturgy.
His jolting, pendulum style is fitting, considering he repeatedly says that “Christianity is not safe.” Christians actually die in baptism and actually consume something magical in the Eucharist, he argues. The elements of faith are frighteningly real, and opportunities for faith surround us in the very world God made: seasons, bread and wine, and talking donkeys.
It is worth the read for anyone pondering an imaginative approach to Christianity. Not imaginary, mind you. Blanski stresses the essential nature of history and tradition, truth and reason. But his quest is “to discover the God who really lives and breathes,” and believe more and more the unbelievable and miraculous nature of that God.
sgilman@hillsdale.edu
