I was standing in a bookstore and keep picking this book up and putting it down. Finally, a bookclerk who'd been watching me said, "Read the book. You'll like it." I commented that it wasn't the type of book I'd ordinarily read (having science fictioned myself to death in college). He said, "The science fiction doesn't get in the way. Read the book."
This was a passionately moving book, and I'm not entirely certain why. It may not have delivered on all that it promised, and it's necessary to read the sequel, Children of God
to pick up the loose threads. However, sections of it will remain with me always, such as Father Emilio Sandoz's answer when asked, "Explain this mass to me."
There was a silence as he sat still, apparently looking at the dinner plates and chicken bones. “Consider the Star of David,” he said quietly. “Two triangles, one pointing down, one pointing up. I find this a powerful image—the Divine reaching down, humanity reach reaching upward. And in the center, an intersection, where the Divine and human meet. The Mass takes place in that space.” ... I understand it as a place where the Divine and the human are one. And a promise, perhaps. That God will reach toward us if we reach toward Him, that we and our most ordinary human acts—like eating bread and drinking wine—can be transformed and made sacred.