Missing the Forest For Pine Needles

No.282: January 23, 2026

Welcome to The Square Inch, a weekly newsletter on Christianity, culture, and all of the many-varied “square inches” of God’s domain. This is a paid subscription feature with a preview before the paywall, so please consider subscribing to enjoy this weekly missive along with a frequent Pipe & Dram feature of little monologues/conversations in my study, and Wednesday’s “The Quarter Inch,” a shorter mid-week note.

Dear Friends,

If I don’t make a concerted effort, all this newsletter would discuss is religion and politics. Our recent Pipe & Dram series has been very heavy on the religion, and we need a break. As for politics, this is me trying not to talk about the “framework” of a future “deal” over Greenland masterfully achieved through the aggressive and brilliant machinations of a President who could have had it all by just asking nicely (the Dutch call this “kicking through an open door”), or the “deal” the President has achieved regarding Tik Tok that flagrantly violates a Federal law he himself signed, or about that apparently cruel social media post to Iranian protesters a couple of weeks ago that said, “Help is on the way.” I mean, we’ve got three more years of this so we’d better pace ourselves.

So let’s instead talk about lighter items.

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I have been slowly slogging through Diarmaid McCullough’s mammoth biography of Thomas Cranmer, the 16th century Archbishop largely responsible for the shape of the Anglican Church during the Reformation period. After 250 pages I have truly given up. I know this is an award-winning biography and I am supposed to be impressed—and I am, to some extent. His knowledge and grasp of the historical details and scholarship is almost beyond belief. But that also happens to be why the biography is a stultifying bore. There comes a time when a reader just has to admit it.

Nowhere within the covers of this 700-page doorstop is a simple overview of any kind. No overhead perspective. No discussion of why Cranmer even matters. McCullough begins in media res (in the middle of things) and basically walks you through Cranmer’s life, day by painstaking day, week by painstaking week, all the way through his earthly journey. McCullough can tell you the exact day and time of day Cranmer set out from Canterbury to some estate or another, but he can’t be bothered to address things that might actually interest a reader. McCullough misses the forest for the pine needles, and then actually misses some important pine needles.

For instance, early on we learn that Cranmer, while among the Lutherans in Germany, got married. Then, to his great chagrin, he was unexpectedly appointed Archbishop of Canterbury by King Henry VIII. He had to keep his marriage a secret! And then, at least over the next 250 pages, we learn … nothing about his wife. Where did she live? What was she up to? Did he ever see her? Did they have children? Not a peep. Just endless recounting of letters back and forth between Lords and Bishops and Continental Reformers. Lest you think that maybe the narrative didn’t allow any real opportunity to talk about his marriage, there was at one point a major crisis: Henry was going to mandate clerical celibacy in the church! Thomas Cromwell, on behalf of Cranmer, got the King to soften his stance. Yet even in recounting this event, McCullough has nary a word to say about Thomas Cranmer’s wife. I find it completely bizarre.

I’ve gone back to working my way through the autobiography of Whittaker Chambers, Witness. He, at least, explains how all the cloak-and-dagger stuff actually means something.

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I received some money for Christmas, and I try to make it count. This week I received a two-LP Deluxe Edition of U2’s 2004 album, How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb. It’s a delight. Remastered for vinyl, it sounds incredible. And I’d pretty much forgotten how great the album is. When it came out twenty-two years ago, I was so enamored with it that I started a blog pretty much for the purpose of writing a massive review. The Banty Rooster was the name of the blog, and I kept that going a long time. Alas, it’s gone now for good. No archives or anything.