" I was curious before I started reading, how is Dobson going to define "living like Jesus"? Does it mean approximating the lifestyle of a 1st century Jewish man, from sandals to tzitzit? Living as closely to the instructions in the Gospels as possible? Actually replicating literal events from Jesus' life, which you would think would be pretty much impossible for a mere mortal? While it seems that the second item would be the most logical one for a Christian to pursue (albeit a very challenging project) Dobson goes mostly for the first (and--I report with a cringe--takes a couple of attempts at the third). Unfortunately this means that the book quickly devolves into something like the Twitter feed of a religiously scrupulous obsessive-compulsive. We sit with Dobson as he agonizes about whether Jesus would have cheese on his chili at Wendy's. We are stuck with him as he blathers about ordering himself some Jewish ritual undergarments online--only to realize after paying that he has just broken the Sabbath. I have myself experienced semi-observant Jewish life first hand, so these details don't even bear the intrigue of exoticism for me. And I confess, as someone who tends towards the legalistic mindset myself, I feel liberated by the way Jesus freed people from having to obsess over this kind of minutiae. It is not what goes in to your mouth but what comes out. It is more important to eat and to heal than to observe every dot and iota of the laws of the Sabbath. And finally, that in Jesus there is no Jew or gentile, male or female--it seems to me that Dobson has majorly missed the point.
Speaking of male or female, the fact that Dobson dwells so much on playacting that he is a Jewish dude like Jesus brings up another problematic question. If "being like Jesus" means not trimming your beard, wearing men's ritual undergarments, and keeping kosher, what does it mean to "be like Jesus" if you are a woman? I'm not surprised that this never seems to cross Dobson's mind--his gender politics are retrograde even for a guy who used to work for Jerry Falwell (as he did). His wife is a non-presence in the book, in fact women are almost altogether absent from the entire narrative. Looking at the Gospels again, this doesn't seem very Jesus-like either. There certainly were women all over the place in the life of Christ. Seriously, though, how utterly useless to Christian women is a mindset that to be like Christ you must somehow physically emulate his dress and appearance. Again, Dobson does a great job of missing the point.
Then there are the numerous tedious and long-winded irrelevancies in the book. Dobson decides he is going to force himself to listen to the Gospels 52 times in 52 weeks. On his iPod. (The irony here goes apparently unnoticed.) He decides to take up not just the rosary (we are supposed to, as alleged fellow evangelicals, to be SHOCKED! just SHOCKED! by this) but the Orthodox prayer rope, and Episcopal prayer beads. We get to hear at excessive length about why he voted for Obama even though his friends mocked him for it. He spends a lot of time hanging out at a Reform synagogue, an institution and worship service that historically speaking bears about as much resemblance to what Jesus knew as does a Catholic mass. Mostly I think we are meant to admire how admirably open-minded Dobson is, but I was left less than impressed.
The man takes things so terribly literally, too, it produces some cringeworthy scenes. Perhaps they were meant to be humorous, but for me at least the humor fell flat. Contemplating the idea that if you have two shirts, you should give one away, he pares down his custom-made suit collection, going on in some detail about whether he is meant to give away half of them, or a quarter, or two thirds, or what. In response to "take up your cross and follow me" he dons some ridiculous 10 inch long wooden pendant and describes how embarrassed he was to be seen wearing it all day. Considering the temptation in the desert, he packs some camping gear and goes on a trip to the woods of Michigan. This is some ridiculous stuff.
In the end I was just glad when I was finally done reading this book as I had grown tired of Dobson's fussy, somewhat overbearing company. If someone were going to have the gall to write a book like this in the first place, they should have at the very least left behind Wendy's and the iPod and taken it all the way--or attempted to do so and see how long they could last. Would have been far more entertaining at least. "
— Katie, 1/28/2014