My "restaurant book"* at present is Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body in Simple Language, by Sam Torode, published by Philokalia Books. It takes the four series of talks JPII presented on the topic at his Wednesday general audiences and presents them in language you don't have to be a philosopher or theologian to understand and at a length that win't take a month of Sundays to slog through. (Others have written explanations, which may give more detail and still be comprehensible.)
Several years ago I was at a presentation by Christopher West on Theology of the Body and I was "blown away." West said that both John Paul II and Hugh Hefner rejected the "Puritan" (actually Manichæan) attitude that regarded sex as somehow dirty, which seems to have affected much of Christian popular thought. Hefner, says West, saw sex as beautiful, but merely natural, whereas John Paul saw it as a beautiful way in which husband and wife can become the physical image of God.
My other current book is Terror and Consent: The Wars for the Twenty-first Century, by Philip Bobbitt. He believes that the state is evolving into something he calls the "market state," and contemporary international terrorism is the natural form of opposition movement in the post-cold-war era. I'm not far enough along to know exactly what he proposes. But as the subtitle indicates, he is concerned that we need to deal with terrorism in a way which prevents the terrorists from undermining government by consent of the governed.
* restaurant book — a book I read when I'm dining alone at a restaurant. My previous restaurant book was The Last Lecture, by Randy Pausch. The things that makes a book suitable for being a restaurant book are that it be small enough to handle easily at the table and, more importantly, that it be in short segments so that when the main course comes you don't lose the thread of a complicated argument and have to go back three pages to review while you're waiting for dessert. A restaurant book is useful so that you don't have to eavesdrop on nearby diners.




