When We Were on Fire: A Memoir of Consuming Faith, Tangled Love, and Starting Over

I will preface this by saying I'm about two years older than Addie (judging by the years and events stated in the book) and, as a devout Christian (then and now), I lived through many of the experiences she shares of 90s teen Christian culture. That is what drew me to this book. I would say nostalgia in this book would be very real for anyone who grew up in the 80s and 90s. This book is Addie's story, in her own words. She grew up "on fire" for Christ. All the trappings of 90s Christian pop-culture were a big part of her teenage faith (WWJD bracelets, browsing in Christian bookstores, zany Christian T-shirts, DC Talk, etc.). Other aspects of evangelical Christianity, which are not dependent on the decade, also permeated Addie's life, such as camps, mission trips, youth group, etc. She is bold in faith...until she is burned one too many times as a young woman. This Christian subculture she had loved so much failed her. Things that once meant deep truth to her became empty cliches. Addie recounts her plunge into depression and rebellion, and briefly recounts her journey back into church and fellowship. Her counselor and her loving husband really help her through. Okay, here is my take on it. First, I'm going to say I don't even like the term "evangelical", although I am one. I feel this word is more associated with voting blocs, and also gives unbelievers and more liberal Christians a way to label and put negative connotations on us. I say I am a Christian. My definition of that comes from the Bible. Most people understand this without my having to say the word evangelical. Having said that, I don't feel her goal in this book was to rant at evangelicals (she even admits at the end that they attend an evangelical church again). I think she is sharing her struggles with some of the ways evangelical culture failed her. And you know, that shallow 90s pop-Christianity failed me too, once upon a time in 1996. I was in high school. Our church had become more "seeker-friendly" and I got kicked out of the church by the pastor because I led some kids to the Lord at Vacation Bible School. That was bad PR, I guess. It was humiliating. Totally different than Addie's experience, and yet similar in that we were both failed by the outer trappings of pop-Christianity. After this, I had my heart broken by a Christian boyfriend who was very inappropriate. Again, it was different than Addie's boyfriend story, but still similar enough. So, my heart went out to her as I read. Here is where my story is very different. First, I couldn't stand DC Talk (sorry to their fans! No offense intended). My tastes veered more toward Steven Curtis Chapman and Rich Mullins. Second, as I was a little older than Addie, I was never as into the "cool" Christian culture of the day as she was. It seemed kind of fake to me, and never made me feel very close to Christ. There were a few things I did and had (like a WWJD bracelet and a very trendy mid-90s Teen Study Bible), but mostly I wasn't into the trendy stuff. Even more different was the way I reacted when I was wounded by these fellow believers. I lost faith in people and retreated within, but I never left the faith, the church, or the Bible. I never redefined my faith. God and people were always two separate entities to me. My faith is based on the unchanging truth of God's Word. It needs no redefinition. Here are my conclusions about this story. Addie's faith was in people. Her eyes were on people. She looked to people to validate her and meet her emotional needs. She seldom was without a boyfriend. All of this was unhealthy and set her up for failure. I noticed that very seldom in this book does she recount an actual experience with the Lord. Even her salvation story at age 5 was based on a nightmare about hell, not on conviction of sin by the Holy Spirit. I'm not saying that wasn't real salvation. But I did notice the lack of actual connection between herself and God throughout the book. People seemed to be her lifeline. Other than when she was planning her mission trip, I never see her even trying to seek God or hear His voice, and even then, she was following her boyfriend's instructions. I really never saw her develop a mature, independent relationship with God. Maybe that's what she is doing now. She talks about redefining faith, but doesn't say what her basis is for this redefinition. If she is redefining it based on what the Bible actually says, than I agree with her. But she doesn't actually say what the basis of the redefinition is. Another concern I have is that she really takes issue with a lot of the Christian phraseology. She calls them cliches. Some, perhaps, are, but phrase like Born Again are straight out of the Bible. If we're going to call ourselves Christians, we can't take exception to God's word. And it needs to be noted that evangelical Christians are not the only group to have jargon. I have had Catholic, Mormon and Muslim friends, and they definitely had some vocabulary of their own that would need to be explained to an outsider. So, specific lingo shouldn't be seen as a purely evangelical thing. Every subculture has it. This was long, but there was a lot to interact with.

Last week, I sat on a plane and wept (Think ugly cry) as I finished Addie Zierman's When We Were on Fire . I'm sure my poor seat mate thought I was crazy but it couldn't be helped. Addie's words moved me deeply.Having followed her blog for quite some time, When We Were on Fire was the Christian book I most anticipated this year. It did not disappoint.When We Were on Fire traces Addie's journey through evangelicalism, first as a church kid, then as an on fire youth group kid, and finally into college, when everything faith-related began to fall apart. It also explores the rebuilding phase – the process through which Addie reformed her faith as an adult.I loved this book. Quite simply, the writing in it is stunning, simultaneously relatable as well as profound. I laughed one moment and cried the next.As strange as it is to say, I also loved this book structurally. Each chapter begins with Addie's definition of an evangelical cliché like Invite Jesus into one's heart or Saving oneself for marriage. Addie then uses her strong voice and narrative to explore the manifestation of that cliché in her life as well as how that manifestation impacted her faith journey. No doubt, this is where Addie's memoir is strongest. It's a rare thing for someone to be able to analyze their own culture with such profundity, accurately assessing both it's strengths and weaknesses.I especially appreciated this as a youth worker. Through this lens, I saw not just images of my own faith journey within Addie's book but also reflections of so many of the youth with whom I have worked. Though I fear some may take Addie's words as an indictment against youth ministry and the church, I saw in them hope that we can learn from our mistakes and impart in our students a stronger, more consequential faith.In Addie's words, I also found hope that even if we church workers do everything wrong, Jesus is stronger; Faith is stronger; And so, too, is the pull of church community. As such, though the process may be painful and wrought with difficulties, it is always possible to rebuild one's faith into something that gives meaning to all aspects of life.That, too, is something I appreciated about Addie's memoir. In it, she doesn't just explore the disillusionment of her faith but also it's rebuilding. Take, for example, her exploration of the three-minute testimony which, early on, she defines as a “short, polished account of one's conversion to Christianity. It covers only the highlights of one's faith story so that it can be memorized quickly, delivered simply, and pulled out at a moment's notice.” Like so many others in the evangelical world, Addie learned a formula for giving this kind of testimony: Life before Christ, how you came to know Christ, followed by life after you received Christ (particularly highlighting the changes He made and what He means to you now.)Near the end of her book, however, Addie confesses that just as it did for so many others, this formula for testimony fell short in her life. Her faith journey could not actually be summed up in three minutes because it was not neat and tidy. Among other things, she concludes, “Your life after Christ is not static or an end result. You are not suspended in grace above the fray of life. You are looking at God through a kaleidoscope. Your life moves, and the beads shift, and something new emerges. You are redefining, figuring it out all over again.”And this is perhaps my biggest takeaway from Addie's book: As youth workers, one of the greatest gifts we can give our youth is the knowledge that their faith will not stay the same.Certainly, I hope the faith we are helping teens form now will continue to be the foundation for their future faith. Nevertheless, I pray my teens – I pray our teens – will know it is OK and even good for their faith to change as they grow in wisdom, understanding, and experiences. I pray we will equip our teens to continue pursuing Christ in all facets of their lives, knowing that “life after Christ is not static or an end result” but a life “in motion, in transit, in flux” throughout which they are always, ever “beloved”.

Depressing. And only appealing to a narrow audience: 30-something females who grew-up in the Evangelical subculture of the U.S. Instead of a coming-of-age story, you get a self-centred character who should have sought professional counselling a decade ago. It reads like the predictable conversion story of an apostate Evangelical towards Liberalism. The overt pessimism of this selfish introvert is difficult to empathize with. She does nothing to help herself and blames the church for debilitating insecurities.Also, some readers will not appreciate being thrust into the protagonist's role, as written-in as another first-person. The book not only takes awhile to get going but by 20 pages, you are thoroughly depressed already.Whether a New Evangelical or in response to current struggles of post-modernism, the author's theology is now more process-oriented, no longer defined by a particular spiritual event. While experience obviously affects faith and the application of Scripture, the author wallows more in her own self-pity. Childbirth finally forced her to grow-up and accept responsibility for her own faith/ journey/ walk. While I identify with the context (age; subculture; legalism; spiritual manipulation; unheralded paranoia; musical taste; dress code; school rules; lack of grace; clinical depression; linguistic rebellion; etc), I mildly admire her honesty, though her version of authenticity seems more trendy and salesworthy than helpful. Her redemption is more genetic than spiritual, more dependent upon psychology than God. But wow... what a husband! Although most of the religious rules espoused here do seem petty, she neglects to explore their intent. Maybe her parents should have made a rule against 14 year-olds dating adults! While all of this here may seem even less encouraging than the book itself, I was absolutely disgusted with the nonchalant way the topic of drinking and driving was addressed.

This book reads a little bit like the Old Testament book of Job. Everything lost and those who are supposed to help let you down. Confronted with the harsh realism of her life, readers may be shocked to find no epiphany, no discerning wisdom that brings the author through in the end. Pain, regret, love and loss are common themes. At many points, I wondered how she overcame her darkness (if it was indeed hers and not a corporate responsibility), or even if she did, since there is a very earthly side to her redemption, a very material side. The deeper qualities of duty, responsibility, and respect are present only in the book’s most silent characters. You cringe while you read, ashamed at aspects of the evangelical church, similar to the experience of watching “Jesus Camp.” The reality of it all just makes it more painful. It has the bitterness and cynicism of the movie “Saved” but comes across as more genuine. Although the author emphasizes there is nothing cliché about individual human experience, I believe it is the very cyclical and repetitive nature of this work that make it so relatable and readable. We all sleep and we all wake up.

I've read this book through twice and loved it both times. I understand how someone who didn't grow up in the church might have a hard time relating to Addie's story, but I don't think that makes it any less powerful. I also don't think a story needs to have dramatic "eureka" moments or a pat moral ending to be important and relevant. I loved this book because it spoke to my personal experience: that the church is sometimes a hard place to grow up in, that losing and refinding your faith is difficult and scary, and that perhaps the evangelical church needs to think a little more carefully about how it sells faith to its young people. I tried really hard to have The Fire as a teenager and never found it.Memoirs aren't morality tales. Addie isn't saying losing faith or being depressed or feeling manipulated are either right or wrong, she's just describing her experience. Christian teenagers need a lot more role models who are willing to describe their honest experiences without whitewashing them.

I feel that this book is aimed at a younger female Christian audience. All respect to the author, she is a talented writer, but there’s no real relevance here for me as an older man, it reads like a tragic teen romance novel, not for me.

I stumbled on Addie's blog one month ago, more or less, following a link a friend posted on facebook. She had shared Addie's post about marrying young, but after reading it (and a good deal of the comments below it), I read more posts, and then I also bought this book (kindle version) and finished it in less than a week (good for me.)I come from a different environment than Addie - well, I'm Italian, and I was raised Catholic - but so many experiences and emotions rang true for me too. I've been active in youth groups (one lifetime ago, it seems), have flipped in and out of church for years, had one major return to faith, and then mostly abandoned it, when the unanswered and unanswerable questions became too much. Still, some of the best experiences in my life were given to me by religious communities, and I haven't discarded the idea to go back, eventually, one day (not now.)But what really drew me into Addie's blog first, and then into her book is your prose - she is able to make daily routines feel interesting by the way she embroider them into words. I read almost half of her book on a Sunday, and then took snippets out of working time to finish it. Addie's writing just flew.I loved the calm, quiet way Addie speak of religion - without ever coming out as preachy, loved the honesty about depression (I haven't been technically depressed, but I suffer from anxiety and OCD from time to time), and loved how thought-provoking everything was. A great reading.