It's an interesting book, though limited in scope—while Meacham does a good job contextualizing Lewis' civil rights work in the 1960s, it doesn't paint a full portrait of the legendary activist.

... an unembarrassed hagiography.

... hagiographic.

Readers who know little about Lewis will find an often moving story, but it will prove unsatisfying to anyone seeking a deeper understanding of the movement.

The story of Lewis’s life, beginning on a sharecropper’s farm in Troy, Alabama, where as a child he delivered sermons to chickens, is familiar ground.

Meacham makes a persuasive case for his claim that 'John Robert Lewis embodied the traits of a saint in the classical Christian sense of the term.' At a moment when events have once again forced Americans to confront the evils of racism, His Truth Is Marching On will inspire both courage and hope..

Meacham concisely chronicles his subject’s highs and lows and, most importantly, his personal sacrifices—not least of them being severely beaten on the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma in 1965 while leading a protest march. Given his remarkable accomplishments, Lewis is that rare historical figure who deserves his lionization. Refreshingly, Meacham offers a distinctly human portrait of a man who struggled with anxieties, fears, and occasionally despair, a leader who dug deep to find the courage to keep going in the face of nearly insurmountable cultural resistance. From his humble beginnings to his recent death, the author clearly demonstrates Lewis’ bravery and survivor’s instinct.

A profile in courage and faith under fire emerges from this vivid portrait of Georgia congressman and civil rights icon John Lewis.