A Song for Lya--A Review

Just finished reading A Song for Lya by George R. R. Martin. It’s a 1973 Sci-Fi book about a couple of para normals (I think that’s what we call them today) who can read others thoughts, feelings, and past histories. They are not “normal” to use their vocabulary and they know it. They are registered Talents. As such, they have the capacity for deeper relational intimacy than a Normal. That’s a key part of the book. Relational intimacy is a huge theme in this book. It was given to me by a friend.

The book’s plot is about a group of humans on the planet of Shkeen somewhere in the universe. The Shkeen’s however, have a unique feature to their culture. They all commit suicide before they are fifty by means of a religion the humans called The Cult of the Union. Every Shkeen is a member of it. There are no heretics. They are Joined to the religion at forty and go to Final Union before age fifty. Missing out on Final Union is considered tragic. Final Union is consummated by submitting oneself to a parasite like creature called The Greeshka which, in the end, consumes the willing participant. The consummation completed, the Shkeen are in union with each other and with the universe in general and receive a universal feeling of love, good will, and understanding. The human authorities don’t mind Shkeen religion but some of the humans on the planet are now joining the religion and passing into Final Union. They call in the Talents to figure out why. That’s when things get interesting. I’ll not tell you how the book ends.

The book is fascinating. Their definition of morality is particularly interesting as their sense of righteousness insists that they love everyone. But, as the author states, “…they can’t do it, they’re too human…They wind up [for example] in monogamous relationships, because a really deep sex-sharing with one person is better than a million shallow physical things, in their culture. The ideal Shkeen would sex-share with everyone, with each of the unions being just as deep, but they can’t achieve that ideal.” The book is also a study on sex, and frankly, its shallowness as viewed by the west (my interpretation).

This book tugs at what we all want—intimacy, love, being understood and understanding, caring for one another, being happy for what fulfills ourselves and “the other”. It’s a pretty good book. It taps deep into human desire. But like all other religions, the Shkeen religion (and the one I think the author is advocating) is radically different from Christianity. Even in its Sci-Fi backdrop, the author couldn’t create something uniquely different from religion in general. For one thing, in the end, Final Union leads only to pantheism, where you are simply part of a greater whole—a body of nothingness which is something dream like, and relational, and loving, and caring. Its awful is to miss out on that. It is dark, lonely, unfulfilling—almost like hell without the punishment and fire parts. Interestingly enough, hell is described as outer darkness in the New Testament (Jude 6).

There’s also no resolution for their “immorality” however they define it. There is no atonement, no forgiveness, no resolution for the problem of evil, no judgment of evil, no righting of wrongs done. They become what they want to become through the Greeshka—the parasitic organism with no ability to think or feel—but apart from being consumed by it, that union, and the freedom and love that comes with it, doesn’t occur. It’s submitting to the Greeshka’s consumption and parasitic growth—it gets bigger as it consumes Shkeens—that brings relational wholeness and love.

I liked the book. But here is where Christianity and Shkeen religion diverge. In Christianity sin is dealt with by someone else. Sin is what keeps us from being everything we can be. Sin robs us of the our freedom—in fact it enslaves. In the Shkeen religion sin is present but frankly, never really addressed. There is no final judgment or escape from sin, there is no righting of all wrongs by a just and fair judge, there is just deep darkness and loneliness when Final Union is missed. Again, as in any other religion, its dependent on what you do to gain Final Union, whereas in Christianity, our union with God isn’t accomplished by something we do but by what Christ has done for us on the cross. Instead of consuming us, God in the person of Jesus comes to be consumed. Instead of becoming part of God, we enter what theologians call union with Christ through Gods Spirit, and worship a God who is much bigger than we are. Instead of something we do to gain great joy the joy comes from something God does for us, and from who he is. The celebration isn’t rooted in us joining to each other in some great Union—the Greeshka doesn’t think or live or interact, it just eats. But in Christianity, we are joined relationally to a God who at his root is love. Ironically, that union in Christianity is celebrated by eating and drinking of Jesus flesh and blood—also known as the Lords Supper, the Eucharist, or Communion (1 Cor 11:23-26).

I found the book intriguing. But there was no solution to the universal problem of evil, no recognition of the Holiness of God, and no sense that God is anything personal. But the idea that we can know, be known, and loved beyond our wildest imagination is compelling which is why the author wrote the book. Isn’t that what we want? To be fully known and fully loved and to do so with others. Only through the person of Jesus Christ will that actually take place. There is a great article in the NY Times August 21, 2013 entitled A Pact to Make the Heart Grow Fonder in the Fashion and Style section. Its about a couple that spent a year testing their love for one another. The relationship ended for a variety of reasons but it was a compelling compliment to the book.

For the record, sex played a big part in the authors attempt to explain intimacy. And interestingly enough, it proved faulty and incomplete. It makes me sad because there is so much more to love than sex. By the way, this is not an erotic book!

Sabbatical--A Reflection

I’m on sabbatical. It’s a time of reflection, a time to rest and change the way I work. Its not a vacation. I hear people say to me, “Gee, I wish I had a sabbatical.” Maybe, perhaps, but maybe not. Sabbatical is work, but it’s not a vacation. I just work differently. It would be like transferring from one department to another for a short period of time or going back to school on paid leave for a while.  

At any rate, its an investment in my ministry, myself, and in my marriage. Fatigue, stress, and struggle can add up and create a cumulative effect of exhaustion. That’s where I’m at--tired. The kind of work and ministry I’m in has an edge to it. Typically in an interim situation, people don’t want you there. They are often glad you are there, but then they don’t really want you there. What they want is to get through the transition and back to the routine as quickly as possible. Transition, change, conflict, etc equals pain and we don’t like pain. That’s American Christianity for you! It’s a little unsettling but that is what it is. Today in the newspaper there was an article about the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt destroying churches in response to the military take over of the government. (See NY Times, August 21, 2013). Interim work in a place like Egypt would never work. The Coptic church is just glad to be alive and in existence. They deal with life and ministry at a totally different level. The pastors there will get their sabbatical and their reward in heaven! But for us in the west, to adequately do what is needed, Sabbatical is important.

 

I’m using my sabbatical to accomplish three things: (1) Rest and rejuvenate. My sabbatical adviser suggested I work five, six hour days a week and spend the evening relaxing and doing recreational activities—running, surfing, reading, hanging out with my wife and kids. Anything fun. (2) Personal formation—I have a coach and a study plan to grow in areas I want and need to grow in academically. I’m using the time to read a lot on the gospel, moralism, ministries of mercy, and biographies. I’m also reading some books for fun—just plain fun stuff. A little George MacDonald and others. (3) Spiritual formation—just being with God. I do this through silence and the plan is to spend a half day just in silent reflection every couple of weeks.

 

This is a good discipline. Today I go on vacation. Part of my sabbatical is to surf the hurricanes coming up the east coast—something I’ve not done for about three years. Part of it is to read some books that are more difficult like Jonathan Edwards Religious Affections or The History of Redemption. I’m enjoying that.

 

Meanwhile, my other team members are working at other churches or working at getting into other churches and covering for me while I’m on break. It’s all good.

Microphones I've Met

I do a lot of public speaking so I’ve spent a considerable amount of time getting wired for sound. Over the years I’ve had my share of wrestling matches with micro-phones. Some of the more memorable ones include:

•Microphones that you need a Ph.D in to turn on. They hide the “on” button and the goal is to figure out where the blessed thing is. That’s why you see public speakers looking at the microphone like some inquisitive scientist. It tests your observational skills.

•Microphones that the battery stops working-- regularly. There is no warning. They just stop working, usually when you need them to work the most. They go on, then off, then on, then off.

•Microphones that go around the ear and around the front of your head. They are the size of a tooth pick and usually the cord goes down the “back” of your shirt with a clip to the collar. They always fall off me. One turn of the head and it’s off the ear and dangling down my back or shirt. Irritating!

•Microphones that dangle around your neck like a noose, then you drag a cord behind you. My kids still talk about the day I had one of those on and inadvertantly stepped on the cord, tightening the noose around my neck, and choking me mid-sentence while trying to soberly make a deep theological point. Not good!

•Microphones that just clip onto your shirt like a tie clip. Very simple and my favorite!

•And the newest one, it goes around the back of your head and clips over the front of your ears and the microphone sticks down in front of your face sort of like a football helmet. My latest experience with that one warranted this post.

“We have a new kind of mic for you.” The sound guy told me. “Oh great,” I thought. “Here we go again.”

“New kinds of mic’s never work for me,” I said, “I’d prefer to use a clip on—like a tie clip,” I responded. The fact is, I have a small head, small ears, glasses, and not a ton of hair right there to hold them in place. One turn of the head and it inevitably falls off. But he was not to be outdone. “Dude (he was from the west coast), I know what you mean. But this one’s fool proof. You’ll love it. It slips behind your head and around the front of your ears.” He was maybe thirty-one and experienced. “Why not?!” I thought. “Lets give it a try.” The week before, I’d managed to get my clip on mic—after the service had started! But I got it. This week I would not have the same luck. 

Fifteen minutes before the worship service I tried it on. Just getting the cord down the back, not front, of my shirt was a five-ten minute ordeal—alone in the bathroom. It was a wrestling match with the battery pack dangling down like a plumb line. By that time, I was longing for my clip on, but it was not to be found. The service was ready to start by the time I’d come from wrestling with the Mic so there was no sound check and my spiritual life was a bit frayed but I was cool.

Things went from not so good to just plain not good when I got up to preach. After I started speaking, the head gear (which goes behind your head and then over the front of your ears like a reverse face mask on a football helmet) was too big so it slid down the back of my head, then the cord leading to the battery pack got stuck in my shirt—that was the issue that went unresolved in the bathroom—so when I turned my head the crazy thing jacked up and pushed on my glasses, so that the actual mic itself was closer to my eyes than my mouth and my glasses were closer to my eyebrows not my eyes. I speak out of my mouth—not my eyes. During the sermon I was repeatedly pulling the thing out of my shirt—which must have looked really professional—and it would just slip back down again, feel weird, jack up my glasses, then I’d go through the whole giration again. By the third service I finally figured out how it worked and then understood why the guy in charge of sound said I’d love it. But it was a journey.

I still prefer a clip on!!

I Turned One Today

On March 27 our third grandchild, Aurelia, turned 1. Check out the video. She had two extravagant parties that weekend, one on Saturday, the other on Sunday which was a family affair. She was dressed in a lady bug costume and seemed to revel in all the attention being paid to her. Honestly, the party wasn’t for her. She was clueless. It was for adults, for parents of young children who will soon have their child’s first birthday—and who may compete for a better “1^st birthday” party with other parents—or for young couples without children who naively say to themselves, “Awww, isn’t she cute?! I want a baby.” Then they get pregnant, and if you have kids you know the rest of the story. They are easy to acquire but expensive and exhausting to raise. At any rate, it made me think about aging. Richard Rohr, in a book entitled The Wild Man’s Journey, comments on aging when he wisely challenges young men to remember the following scenario when considering their lives:

Life is hard

You are going to die

You are not all that important

You are not in control

Your life is not about you

Pretty blunt stuff, eh?! The prevailing wisdom of the day is different. Life is ascent. You must climb higher and higher, make more money, achieve greater success, stay at the top, win. But the hard realities of time can create aged cynics, bitter old men and women, who refuse to accept life’s paradoxes and mysteries. Rohr challenges his readers to consider becoming what he calls wise fools. I think he calls it a spirituality of descent. You grow wise not by ascending to the heights of human achievement but by embracing and descending into the low realities of life.

These are sobering thoughts. As I reflect on being 1 its reminded me of the sobriety of life and even the reality of death. Aurelia’s just starting. My mom’s 90 and close to the finish line. I’m 56 at this posting. I’d rather be a wise fool than a cynic any day!

You Have a Torn Labrum

2009 Boston Marathon--Time: 2:57:06

“You have a torn labram. The MRI says you have a torn labrum in your right hip." 

 “Spell it,” I said cryptically. The voice on the other end of the phone was my friend and physician. I trust him but the connection was bad and I wanted to get it right. “L-a-b-r-u-m. Labrum.” He said. “It’s called a labral tear.” I paused, thanked him for the news and ran up to my computer to Google “labrum.” It’s the cartilage in the hip. Somehow I ripped mine. Its not an irreparable injury. Frankly, physical therapy and maybe easy surgery will correct it. Its not badly torn—at least I don’t think so. But its torn and it took me out of the Boston Marathon. It would have been my 9^th in a row. My friends shake their heads and say, “Overuse! You train too hard.” Maybe. Or maybe not. I like to be focused and running hard—and surfing in the winter—forces me to do that. I want to read a lot and work my body hard because it forces me to have physical and mental integrity—something people seem to lose as they get older. But its disappointing. Truth is, I’ll probably trot the first 3.1 miles and, after crossing the 5K line, stop. Jan will pick me up. We’ll drive to mile 21 and I will watch the rest of the race with her as a spectator. A family friend from Seattle will be with us. Her son is trying to break 2:30! He’s one fast dude.

I enjoy running the Boston Marathon more than any other race. In fact, if I could just run one race a year, I’d choose Boston. The leaves aren’t out yet and there is a freshness in the air that’s unusual. Running through beautiful New England towns is exhilarating. Its honestly delightful. For me, it brings me into the presence of God. Beauty and loveliness should do that. They are pointers to God. “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty” (Ps 84:1) says the Psalmist. He’s referring to the temple described in the Hebrew Scriptures, but as a follower of Jesus, that loveliness is seen in Gods common grace reflected in sights and smells of nature, people, and activity. An ocean wave that crashes, wind that blows the trees, a good meal, laughter, fun, even running 26.2 miles can be worship when centered on a creative God who gives hints of his glory in the joy of living. More than that, it even points to the sacrifice of Christ in the cross—a very ugly thing in a very beautiful world.

I’m grieving the loss of this race. But the disappointment is a reminder that life’s short, we are broken, and yet God is good. He does what he does for his glory and our good. "No good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless" (Ps 84:11). Hard to accept that isn’t it?! Hard to understand, isn’t it?! Think about it. What's it mean?

A torn labrum is a minor inconvenience, that I suppose could turn into a major problem. But that’s a very temporal problem. I’ll probably heal up and I’ve already qualified for the 2014 Boston Marathon thanks to running Yonkers and Athens in the fall of 2012. If you think about poverty, racism, school shootings, and war—all major reminders of a broken world—an injury that’s unintentionally self inflicted is pretty minor. But it sure can seem big when life in the greater scheme of things is forgotten. Sin is ugly. Life is short. People are small. God is big! There is a solution to the evil in this world. If you mix that all up and are either forgetful, or incognizant, of the solution, life becomes very dark."No good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless!" Whose walk is blameless? How do we become blameless? Think about it!

Addendum: I ran the first four miles then dropped out. The issue seems to be more an abdominal hernia than a torn labrum. At any rate, it has all paled when considering what happened at the finish line with the bombings. 

Les Miserables--the Movie

I went to see Les Miserables New Year’s eve night with Jan. Great movie. It was riveting. I’ve seen the play twice but the visuals that are available in the realm of film were powerful. The singing was pretty good. Even Russell Crowe sang fairly well.

The whole theme of redemption was very evident in the movie. I’m not saying that this was a theologically accurate film. I’m not saying the writers and musicians were making a theological statement. But the contrast between legalism (Inspecter Javert) and license (those manning the barricades and others in the culture) and the balance of Jean Valjean who experienced grace and forgiveness is striking. At one point he notes, that the life prior to his conversion was dead. It’s a great movie. Go see it.

Newtown—The Anatomy of Response

Mike Hucabee may have been smarter to say nothing after the masacres at Newtown, CT a few weeks ago. The former Governor of Arkansas was asked, “Where’s God? in all this.” His response: “…for fifty years we’ve systematically attempted to have God removed from our schools and public activities but the moment we have a calamity we wonder where he was.” Apparently some of the responses to his comments were less than kind, particularly by those from the left.

In response to the responses Huckabee said something to the effect that we’ve escorted God out of our culture and marched him off the public square, then we express our surprise that a culture without him, actually reflects what its become. Honest truth, in his response to the responses he actually made a pretty good case for some of the social ills of our society. There are certainly natural consequences for turning our backs on God. St. Paul says essentially the same thing in Romans 1. But the timing of his comments, and the way they were made, were probably unhelpful. James Dobson did essentially the same thing not long after, but his were even more severe. There’s a great post called The Callous Theology of James Dobson by Peter Wehner that does an excellent job of exposing some of the problems with what some Conservative Christians do when they attempt to find some deep theological explanation for the evil we witness in places like Newtown. Maybe I’ll include it in another post subsequent to this one. But this is very real to me because the church I’m currently pastoring as in interim is twenty minutes from Newtown, CT. Some of our congregants knew one of the victims—a little boy. It breaks my heart.

Here’s a thought: Maybe Huckabee and Dobson should just not say anything when things like the tragedy in Newtown happen. I think that probably would be a good idea. Scripture says, “Weep with those who weep…” (Rom 12:15). In other words, there is a time to weep and when its time to do that, you do that. Throwing peoples problems or pain back in their face in the middle of their grief, even if the problem is their own (which in the case of Newtown, you can’t say that it is) doesn’t usually help. Its like smacking your head on a short doorway because you didn’t duck—something I’ve done far too often in my life in spite of my limited stature. It’s my fault for not ducking, but in the middle of my pain I don’t need someone saying to me, “You idiot! Why didn’t you duck?!” I need, “Wow, that hurts. Sorry.”

Furthermore, the Mike Huckabee’s and the James Dobson’s of the world are in danger of being just like Job’s three friends. Job experiences great tragedy and his three friends, if you want to call them that, jump to the conclusion that he’s not right with God. In fact, the opposite was true and in the end, they were rebuked by God himself for their poor theology. Read the story! Job never found out why he suffered. Then again in Luke 13 a tower falls and kills eighteen people. Some people ask Jesus about it. He says, “Do you think these guys are worse sinners because of this? I say, no. But unless you repent, you too will perish.” In other words, there is an evil in our world that will touch every one of us. We can’t get away from it. It’s original sin and the problem of the curse. You can’t blame this entirely on a culture that has turned its back on God. You can’t connect the dots like that.

To blame the Newtown killings, Hurricane Sandy, the 9/11 attacks or any other tragedy on our national sin can’t be validated. This is particularly true since it assumes certain sins are far worse than others: homosexuality and abortion are the sins of choice today for those of us on the religious right (which I guess would include me). We don’t seem to think that the racism and slavery that plagued the south for hundreds of years, and other national attrocities committed over the life of this country seem to matter. Given the reasoning of some today, maybe we should say the attacks on Pearl Harbor were retribution for centuries of racism or something else. Hey, why not? There’s enough evil in our national treasure chest of history to warrant that explanation.

I’m not saying that the trajectory of our country is the way I’d like it. It bugs me that God is not welcomed in the public square. But I’m equally bugged that people on the right and also on the left seem to so effortlessly connect the dots and provide us the definitive reasons why these things happen. I realize that the social commentators of the day feel the need to respond and explain things. I know that they are bugged, perplexed, and saddened so they are trying to make sense of it all. But its curious to me that in this case they seem to blame either the social inadequacies of current gun control legislation (usually those on the left) or the personal moral failure of individuals, or the nation (usually those on the right). And while both make a good point--government exists to protect its citizens so we need legislation that protects us and its citizens must act virtuously in order for society to function well--neither of these responses solves the real issue. Neither of them seem to adequately consider original sin or the darkness of the human heart. My point is that the problems not going to be resolved simply by legislating or moralizing!

Christmas is about Gods solution: God comes in the person of Jesus Christ, innocent and small as an act of divine love only to grow up still innocent, and yet be nailed to a cross as an act of divine justice. The empty tomb is the proof that love and justice have met and been reconciled. The incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ is the demonstration that God is infintely loving and infinitely just.

The Newtown massacre is heartbreaking. But as a member of the Christian community, I wish those from the right would stop feeling the need to explain things by blaming these kinds of tragedies on our national sin. I really don’t see how that can be proven and I don’t see that its even biblical. It just makes people mad and solidifies the caricature that Christians are moral snobs out of touch with reality.