Grace Hamman. Ask of Old Paths: Medieval Virtues and Vices for a Whole and Holy Life. Zondervan Reflective, 2025. $29.99. 224 pp.
I was less than a page into Grace Hamman’s new book Ask of Old Paths when a question entered my mind. In fact, I was still reading Jessica Hooten Wilson’s foreword, where she notes, “Books on virtue are en vogue right now.” She is not wrong. This isn’t even the first consideration of the classic vices and virtues I have read for review this year. Blame it on the current trend toward classical education, or the toxicity of our public discourse, or the recent death of After Virtue author Alisdair MacIntyre. Whatever the cause, many Christian writers are thinking about the virtues, which explains the question that entered my mind: “Do we need another book on this topic?”
To be sure, these books are not all alike; each of the recent books on the virtues offers a particular approach. In her book On Reading Well, Karen Swallow Prior examines each of the classic virtues through a different work of literature to show how and why reading great books helps build character. In her book Fully Alive, Elizabeth Oldfield reversed the conversation, examining the vices in order to avoid them. This book also has the distinction of being tailored to a minimally religious audience. Last but not least, Alan Noble has stated his forthcoming work To Live Well will present the virtues as one part of a greater consideration of our cultural moment, continuing the conversation he began in his earlier books Disruptive Witness, You Are Not Your Own, and On Getting Out of Bed.
Ask of Old Paths therefore moves over well-trod earth, but it does so with a special focus on the medieval period that is Hamman’s specialty. Her chief skill is drawing upon the vast and diverse medieval literary and artistic corpus to address our world of social media, artificial intelligence, and other unique temptations of this present age. Human beings have always looked to the past when they need wisdom in the present. Hamman highlights voices we would otherwise ignore, but which have much of value to say to us right now.
What are these virtues we speak of anyway? Hamman describes them as “the fruit of well-ordered love. They are the habits of our values refined, reoriented, acted upon.” By appealing to writers whose works have been mostly forgotten, she aims to “tend to the language of the virtues, to give them back their life and color and otherworldly joy.” The way of virtue is not one of stoic self-denial but of living life to the fullest. “In the practice of virtues, we become more wholly human, more ourselves as images of God.” For Hamman, the key to virtue is a question asked by Christ: “Do you want to be whole?” (Based on a Middle English translation of John 5:6.)
Those who object to the focus on virtue cultivation often do so in the belief that it is an attempt to be justified by our own works. But Hamman is clear: “Our virtues do not earn Christ’s love. Instead, while we were sinners, Christ loved us and died for us (Rom. 5:8). His love gives us the freedom to participate in our own process of becoming whole—an ongoing process into eternity.” She also writes that “our actions of love that constitute our ongoing transformation are both graced and our own, all at once.” This allows virtue to flow out of love and gratitude rather than fear of disapproval. “There is no more need to prove my worth. There is no more measurement of how good of a job I’m doing.”
Hamman also rejects the idea that we should seek virtue to gain reward, whether earthly or heavenly. “A truly virtuous act is done not for an extrinsic reward but for its own intrinsic sake, because it is right and oriented toward love of God or love of neighbor.” Reading that sentence, I was reminded of John Piper’s emphasis on reward as a proper biblical motivation for performing actions of love, a point he has stated in his popular book Desiring God and elsewhere. Yet, while Piper is strongly opposed to the thought of Immanuel Kant on this issue, Hamman’s position is different from both men. She commends the performance of virtuous deeds for their own intrinsic sake but also states that the doers should be neither disinterested nor stoic. It is love of God and neighbor that motivates the Christian in his or her pursuit of virtue and the joyful life.
Hamman’s descriptions of the virtues and vices are often unique and engaging. For example, “A prideful person imagines and esteems herself as greater than she is, like a drunk frat boy trying to walk in a straight line,” or when she says of the temperate person, “A fully abstinent life looks like a conversation. Out of the dance of speech and silence, pauses between words, pauses between bites, we respect and obey; we savor and listen and grow.” I had not previously considered the possibility of a gluttony of speech, but she makes a good case for it.
Throughout these considerations, Hamman appeals to medieval works such as Piers Plowman, Jacob’s Well, Augustine’s Confessions, the Summa of Thomas Aquinas, and her personal favorite, the writings of Julian of Norwich. But contemporary references are also plentiful. In one paragraph, she moves from the Middle English poem The Assembly of the Gods, to the example of Vladimir Putin’s bellicosity, and finally to Geoffrey Chaucer engaging with Aristotle. We see the world through medieval eyes, but we also see the medieval through Hamman’s eyes, and her enthusiasm makes the book an engaging and pleasant read.
Each chapter ends with a relevant biblical quotation, suggested practices for cultivating the virtue in question, and a prayer the reader can recite. This is in line with Hamman’s overall task, which is not simply to teach us about the virtues but to help us live the virtues with our eyes focused on Christ, the giver from whom all good things flow. The book is oriented not simply toward our lives here on earth, but also the ultimate reality of heaven. As Hamman explains, “The virtues always have an end, a goal, a telos. This end is life together with Jesus in the kingdom of heaven.”
Returning to my initial question—Do we need another book on this topic?—I believe the answer is yes, provided it is as unique and well-written as Ask of Old Paths. To the extent that Christians are currently focusing on classic virtue theory, that is surely a good thing. For in an era when technological change and political upheaval are challenging virtue in new ways, we must remember the promise of God that virtue will remain even when the things of this world pass away. “But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love” (1 Cor. 13:13, NASB95).
Amy Mantravadi
Amy Mantravadi lives in Dayton, Ohio with her husband, Jai, and their son, Thomas. She holds a B.A. in biblical literature and political science from Taylor University and received her M.A. in international security from King's College London.
