Frederick William Dwelly died over 50 years ago, but his vision for the place of worship that both made and broke him still pervades. His influence is there in the philosophy of inclusion that typifies the Cathedral's religious and educational activities; in the liveliness and relevance of services; and even in the rust and unbleached cotton of the cassocks and surplices, and the cream, black and red of special service papers. In the estimation of many eminent figures in the Church of England Dwelly was nothing short of a liturgical genius, but one whose life history could so very easily be lost. It was this realisation that spurred former Cathedral Education Officer Peter Kennerley to embark upon research into the great man's life and legacy. Using letters, sermons, newspapers and the testimony of those still alive who knew him, the author paints a fascinating, though inevitably incomplete, portrait of a truly inspirational man who was full of contradictions. He was ground-breakingly liberal in his views about interdenominational cooperation, but he could also be dictatorial. He knew how to make everyone who was involved with the Cathedral feel valued, but though widely loved he was greatly held in awe. It was certainly impossible to say 'no' to the first Dean of Liverpool Cathedral! Such a mixture of character traits is, however, what made Dwelly such an attractive, charismatic and effective dean. His foibles were at once his weakness and his strength; yes, he was less than perfect, but in the end his human faults merely served to make people warm to him. This is the book that might never have been written. For Peter Kennerley, the sifting of the archives has been a huge challenge which at times he has doubted his ability to overcome. The material available to him has been both copious and tantalisingly vague, and he has had to distil from it the essence of a man who in many ways is impossible to portray with total clarity. What is certain is that everyone who knew the Dean, everyone who knows the Cathedral, as well as all students of religious and liturgical history, will be grateful to the author for committing to posterity the life and work of such an intriguing, controversial and pivotal figure, and for doing it so well.

Sociologist Jeffrey Guhin spent a year and a half embedded in four high schools in the New York City area - two of them Sunni Muslim and two Evangelical Christian. At first pass, these communities do not seem to have much in common. But under closer inspection Guhin finds several common threads: each school community holds to a conservative approach to gender and sexuality, a hostility towards the theory of evolution, and a deep suspicion of secularism. All possess a double-sided image of America, on the one hand as a place where their children can excel and prosper, and on the other hand as a land of temptations that could lead their children astray. He shows how these school communities use boundaries of politics, gender, and sexuality to distinguish themselves from the secular world, both in school and online. Guhin develops his study of boundaries in the book's first half to show how the school communities teach their children who they are not; the book's second half shows how the communities use "external authorities" to teach their children who they are. These "external authorities" - such as Science, Scripture, and Prayer - are experienced by community members as real powers with the ability to issue commands and coerce action. By offloading agency to these external authorities, leaders in these schools are able to maintain a commitment to religious freedom while simultaneously reproducing their moral commitments in their students. Drawing on extensive classroom observation, community participation, and 143 formal interviews with students, teachers, and staff, this book makes an original contribution to sociology, religious studies, and education.