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Last night, I finished my “annual” reading of A Prayer for Owen Meany.  (BTW, I linked to an older copy of it on Amazon because the newer one has a picture of John Irving on the cover and not the armadillo.  What’s up with that?  Anyway…).  I read the book for the first time my junior year in college while working at Barnes and Noble and have read it nearly every year since.  I would guess this is probably about my tenth time reading the book.  I put “annual” in quotes because I didn’t read much over the last three years other than my Doctor of Ministry books and resources.  So, when I got the chance this summer to return to Gravesend and to Owen, Johnny, Hester, and the fated baseball, I took the chance.  I so dearly love the heartbreaking but encouraging story of Owen Meany that I know that sometime next year, I will pick up my copy once again and read those words that open the story…

I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice - not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother’s death, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany.

I guess I have to say that I owe some of my own faith journey to Owen as well.  (Note I am not going to discuss any significant plot points because I would hate to ruin the magic of the journey of this book for someone who has not read it.  If I am talking to you, pick up the book right now and start reading.  You’ll thank me later).  When I first encounted Owen Meany, I was in college and still working through my understandings of faith.  I was a fairly “new” Christian and extremely conservative in my outlook.  At the time, I was fairly sure that the Four Spiritual Laws were the end-all-be-all of Christian ideology.  But in the midst, I was struggling with questions that I didn’t feel I had a place to ask.  Questions about good and evil, right and wrong, doubt and faith.  It was then that a self-avowed athiest introduced me to Owen Meany.

If you have ever been into a Barnes and Noble, you will likely have seen the rack of “Staff recommendations.”  As I was working on closing the store one night, I noted that one of my coworkers (whose name I cannot remember right now) put this book as his recommendation.  I found it quite unusual because he spoke often of how he didn’t believe in God and that no one could convince him otherwise.  When I asked him why he had a book about “prayer” (I didn’t know the story at the time), he simply said that it was the best novel he had ever read and encouraged me to read it as well.

So, I picked up a copy (with the staff recommendation discount and my employee discount too - woot) and started reading when I got home that night about 1130pm.  I remember reading until well after midnight and was hooked.  In the book, as Irving describes Owen and Johnny - their friendship, their respective faith journeys, and their questions both in the past and in the book’s present time (mid 1980s) I found myself being drawn into their journey.

As Owen struggled with the concept of his being an “instrument of God” and the questions Johnny has about God’s “plan” through it all, I found many of my questions being asked.  There were not answers offered - simply the expression of the questions, especially by a fictional character whose faith seemed to be unshakeable.  There are several parts that I would quote here, but to do so might give away things of the story that I would hate to ruin for someone.

So, whether you are a Christian, an athiest, or one following another spiritual path in your life, I encourage you to read this book.  If you’ve already read it, pick it up again.

Thank you Owen.  See you again next year.