Martin Mosebach has riveted readers with this work, [which] puts the lie to [the] observation that “our problem is that we no longer have martyrs. We only have celebrities.” As a matter of fact, we hear that the Middle East has had a flood of conversions to Christ from Islam, precisely due to the noble witness not only of “The 21″ but of hundreds more of common folk who have preferred death to betrayal of their Lord and Savior.

Mosebach’s The 21 is an excellent example of a book that clearly states its goal and successfully achieves it. The choice of diction, the stylistic approach, the commitment to not overgeneralize, and the deep understanding of history and theology all come together to take the reader on a remarkable journey into the heart of Coptic Egypt.

The 21 incorporates travel writing, history, theology and culture. . . . Mosebach seeks to individualize the collective killing on the Libyan beach, heading up each of the chapters with the name and photo of one of the men. He writes vividly and with clarity.

In this remarkable book, Mosebach doesn’t simply avoid the standard Western narratives but turns the tables on them. He is not interested in providing a lurid account of barbarities from which we, in our secular sophistication, are immune, or in explaining away the miracles in the lives of the devout poor, or, still less, in telling us how to regard radical Islam, formulate a foreign policy for the Middle East, or help persecuted Christians abroad, much as they could use our help. Rather, he wants to show Christians – in the West and elsewhere – what these migrant workers can teach us about living our own faith. 

A close look at the plight of an ancient Christian community… an account that alternates between tragedy and triumph – between senseless deaths and staunch perseverance, past and present.

Richly rewarding… In a strikingly brief space, Mose­bach has much to tell us about each of the martyrs as individuals and about their families. The 21 is also deeply informative about the state of Coptic Egypt, and about martyrdom, and even about Coptic liturgy. The book’s only flaw is that it is so emotionally moving that it is difficult to read without frequent breaks.

Mosebach, in his pilgrimage to Egypt in search of the stories behind [these] murders, discovers how deeply the men’s Christian faith had prepared them to face such gruesome deaths. While the Coptic expression of Christianity in Egypt has a significantly different shape than my own, the overlaps in beliefs and allegiances cannot be missed. How is it that my own generally comfortable version of Christianity has distracted me from the sorts of trials and suffering commonplace to so much of the church around the world?

What’s most striking perhaps about Mosebach’s work is how it stands in such sharp contrast to our own vapid understandings of death, loss, and meaning in the secular West. Through the spiritually rich but physically impoverished lives of the Copts, we’re offered a glimpse of our own society’s much more profound destitution.

The 21 is not for the faint of heart, particularly at the outset. But it is an important book, given that it describes the persecution of a group of Christians who are at the heart and root of the faith today. To turn away from this story would be to dishonor the 21 men.

There is some good writing in the book, describing the forlorn landscapes of Egypt far from cities and tourist sites, and suggesting the impressive atmosphere of ancient accommodation between Muslims and Christians.

Take[s] us deep into the lives and churches of these Coptic believers, with Mosebach exhibiting an attention to detail befitting his novelistic gifts.…We gain a rich impression of what shaped the lives and faith of these martyrs, and we witness how their martyrdom reverberates to this day through their families, churches, and communities.

A unique blend of deftly scripted travelogue and inherently engaging memorial to the endurance of Christian faith in the face of murderous hatred, The 21 is an extraordinary and unique account that is as thoughtful and thought-provoking as it is ultimately inspired and inspiring.

Mosebach’s work gives us a vivid portrait of an experience and an event that the Western world struggles to fully understand… in a place where religious belonging shapes people from their birth, where being a minority means facing a daily struggle, even at the cost of extreme sacrifice, as is well proved by the twenty-one protagonists of the video. This good book takes into account those aspects of religious affiliation that would deserve to be better considered in an all-inclusive analysis of geopolitical issues: it would help to better understand the reasons that drove the twenty-one terrorists to kill and the other twenty-one to face that kind of death.

Although I would like very much to visit Egypt, I think I never would have seen all the things Mosebach was able to see. What he has written is a meditation on the profound sense of prayer he found in the Coptic Church, the depth of mystery in her liturgy, the valor of the witness of a minority that has been persecuted for 1,400 years, the reality of faith to be experienced in the poor and the powerless.

With hostility to public Christian worship on the rise in both Europe and the United States, the Coptic Church has something to teach believers in the West about what a resilient and flourishing Christian minority looks like. It is in this sense – and not only because of recent episodes of persecution in Egypt, however real and tragic – that this exceptional German writer has given us a timely and important book.

Mosebach has a novelist’s insight and way with words. The 21 is also a fine piece of journalism. It helps us to understand, if not the ferocity of the killers, the quiet heroism – the ordinary heroism, perhaps – of the martyrs.

Mosebach asks us to not look away but rather to look directly into the faces and lives of these martyrs. By doing so we of the lands of plenty and waning faith may find something that we have lost and may yet regain…but not without cost.

Mosebach is not interested in investigating ISIS. His purpose is to discover the power of the Coptic church in the lives of its followers – a power he makes clear is not that of a death-embracing cult but that of a vibrant, joyful church. Indeed, reading this account gives the reader a glimpse of what it must have been like to be an early Christian during the persecutions in ancient Rome.

Mosebach provides striking images of a singular Christianity unfamiliar to many Christians outside of the Middle East.… Through immersive scenes and finely drawn portraits of the people he meets, he exhibits a clear admiration for the Coptic devotion on every page. This will appeal to Christians as well as readers wanting to understand the lives of minorities in Muslim countries.

Few contemporary writers have delved so deeply into the disturbing experiences of such an entirely different world and way of life.

Martin Mosebach is undoubtedly one of the most intelligent, original, and powerfully eloquent poets of the present day.

Mosebach has mastered a rare art: maintaining deep respect for the other. … Not a single detail loses its magic in this moving, impressive book: it reads like a ray of light, illuminating Western blind spots and foreign worlds.

Martin Mosebach is a superb journalist. Virtually nothing escapes his gaze, and he glosses over nothing.