As a young man, I took a copy of Jan Karon’s debut novel with me on a surprise deployment. Two decades later, my copy of At Home in Mitford, a discarded paperback from the Gales Ferry library, still smells like a submarine. When I pick it up, it reminds me of reading in brief snatches in my bed when I was too exhausted to fall asleep. It was a comfort book, but also something more.

My Beloved, the 15th book in the Mitford series, takes Karon’s faithful readers back through the decades as they recall stories of Father Tim, Cynthia, Esther Cunningham, Dooley, and the rest. Nearly three decades after the first book in the series was published, it’s clear Karon isn’t just writing escapist fiction. She’s presenting a vision of a better world.

The plot of My Beloved is simple: In a fit of inspiration, Father Tim writes his wife, Cynthia, an unsigned love letter for Christmas. A comedy of errors follows. That love letter gets lost, then passed around town before it’s finally returned just in time for Christmas morning. As the narrative progresses, readers observe the deep human desire for community. We see the joy of being beloved. It makes us long for a deeper experience of love in this life.

Pause That Refreshes

Karon’s books aren’t likely to wind up in the canon of great American literature. The prose is serviceable but rarely artistic. Her stories typically inspire curiosity to see how predictable events unfold, rather than creating anticipation about a mysterious plot or drawing readers in with penetrating character development. We know when Hope Murphy worries about her bookstore’s “thirty-year-old boiler from which they’d wrung every iota of utility” that Happy Endings is getting a new furnace by the end of the book (27). Yet despite any literary peccadillos, there’s endearing goodness in the stories.

It’s refreshing to see a clergyman consistently portrayed positively. Father Tim is forgetful and sometimes emotionally distant, but he’s decent and good. The tiny community of Mitford, North Carolina, provides the perfect fictional backdrop for the Anglican priest who loves the gospel and wants to serve his neighbors. Through the decades that unfold in Karon’s storyline, we see his struggles to love the unlovely, his joy at the surprising redemption of hardened sinners, and his difficulty in finding his identity outside his vocation. Though the lovable priest retired from his parish in the fifth book in the series, A New Song, we’re continually reminded that ministry is a lifestyle, not just a paycheck.

It’s refreshing to see a clergyman consistently portrayed positively.

Unlike in Karon’s previous novels, the narrative of My Beloved isn’t told primarily through Father Tim’s perspective; each chapter highlights the thoughts (and vernacular) of many of our favorite Mitfordians. Thus, for example, we hear the realization of Esther Cunningham that her husband of seven decades “was the best man God ever put on this green earth, not a jack-leg bone in his body” (295). Ray’s sterling qualities have been evident to readers for quite a while, but it’s good to hear the town’s longtime sausage-biscuit-loving mayor admit it.

Mitford Takes Care of Its Own

In the acknowledgments of Karon’s 2005 book, Light from Heaven, attentive fans of Mitford encounter a clue that she’s doing something more than spinning a yarn. The first name on that list is James Davison Hunter, the University of Virginia sociologist who popularized the term “culture war” in 1991, and whose 2010 book, To Change the World, argues that faithful Christian presence within cultural institutions is the primary means to enact cultural transformation.

In light of that connection, Father Tim’s efforts in consulting with Mayor Cunningham and his friendship with the police chief throughout the series become evidence of something more than small-town charm.

This portrait of a meaningful community begins in her first book, but it deepens over time. The shift is evident as references to Father Tim’s reading change from primarily William Wordsworth and C. S. Lewis to frequent allusions to Wendell Berry. Thus, when the retired priest steps in to help run the Happy Endings bookstore during Hope’s difficult pregnancy, and manages the local grocery store while proprietor Avis Packard is fighting for his life, we see Berry’s “membership” illustrated. In My Beloved, when Dooley decides to renovate the tumbledown cottage on Meadowgate Farm to give the aging Harley and Willie a permanent home, the echoes of Jayber Crow are unmistakable.

There’s more to Father Tim’s saga than a utopian depiction of the perfect community. Mitford isn’t Mayberry, though they’re set in the same state. In My Beloved, efforts to bring Dooley’s family back together remind us of the long-term effects of sin. Though the gospel has transformed her life, Dooley’s mother, Pauline, still struggles with self-centeredness. She can’t understand why some of her children haven’t forgiven her for abandoning them. The lights turn on when Cynthia pointedly, but compassionately, tells her, “You’re not the one who was hurt most deeply, you’re but one of six who were hurt most deeply” (287). Sin leaves scars.

Yet we also see the dawning of hope that can only be found in Christ. Redemption is possible, but repairing earthly relationships is hard. Forgiveness comes through Christ, but pain often lingers. Meaningful community is messy.

Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good

In a 1997 interview, after her fourth book was released, Karon said,

I have a mission to console readers through laughter and by reminding them of God’s love. I don’t want to give them any more stress, violence, murder or rape. I want to give them a town to call their own, a place they can go and live for a week or two.

She never abandoned the wholesome kernel, but her vision seems to have blossomed over the years.

Returning readers will be delighted with Karon’s latest effort. But My Beloved isn’t the ideal introduction to Father Tim and Mitford. So many plotlines and characters from previous novels come together that a first-time visitor is likely to be confused by the fan service. Hopefully, newcomers will be inspired to start at the beginning to see the narrative unfold so they too can call Mitford home.

Redemption is possible, but repairing earthly relationships is hard.

C. S. Lewis was correct when he wrote, “Reason is the natural organ of truth; but imagination is the organ of meaning.” Like Allen Levi’s Theo of Golden, the whole Mitford saga illustrates the way meaning can be found in Christ and in community with ordinary people living ordinary lives. My Beloved reminds readers of fiction’s power to shape our desires for a world that increasingly reflects God’s redemptive work.