IVP - Strangely Dim

The Quality of Change

Forty years ago today Bobby Kennedy died of a gunshot wound in California, marking the abrupt and unsettling end of a surprisingly hopeful kind of era. In its e-newsletter today, Sojourners quotes Kennedy's speech in Capetown, South Africa, two years to the day before his death. His words offer a fitting kick-off to all our weekends:

Moral courage is a rarer commodity than bravery in battle or great intelligence. Yet it is the one essential, vital quality of those who seek to change a world which yields most painfully to change.

Where Have You Gone, Bo Diddley?

Rock legend Bo Diddley has died. You can read of his passing here.

My high-school band, Little Queenie, covered Bo Diddley's song "Who Do You Love?" which is a quintessential example of his signature style: "Shave and a Haircut" rhythm; aggressive, raunchy guitar; embittered, defiant lyrics:

I got a tombstone hand and a graveyard mind,
I lived long enough and I ain't scared of dying.

That lyric is emblematic of a particular strain of the blues, one that leans into the emotional navigation of a difficult life. Diddley came of age musically at a time when recording artists were routinely exploited by their labels, and so his career is as littered with bitter reflections on the industry as it is with great music: "I am owed. I've never got paid. . . . A dude with a pencil is worse than a cat with a machine gun."

Speaking as a dude with a pencil, I offer my regrets for the bitterness that Bo Diddley carried with him. I hope for a day when we can all put our pain to rest, when our best art will be created not out of anger but out of joy.

Keeping in Touch

When some of you saw the title "Keeping in Touch," I imagine your sweet hearts leapt with hope that this post is my firm, telling-the-world, turning-over-a-new-leaf resolution to finally be better about staying in contact with all of you. Unfortunately, I've tried the firm resolution route before and failed every time. Which is why you still don't hear from me.

But. You do, after all, have Strangely Dim to let you know I'm still alive and to give you a peek at what I'm thinking about. And here's the latest thing I'm ruminating on: keeping in touch with the world. I know--that sounds a little ambitious for someone who couldn't even keep a penpal growing up because I didn't write back often enough. But a number of events recently--both personal and global--have impressed on me anew the importance of learning about other people's reality. I'm scared by how easy it is--particularly, it seems to me, in the suburbs where I live--for me to go through a day thinking largely about myself--my own needs, my own schedule, the details of my day. Some of this, of course, is necessary; I need to pay my bills and do my job and show up for my commitments. As a follower of Christ, though, I'm seeing more and more how essential it is to be connected in some way to the reality of others--whether it's praying for people and situations all over the world through International Justice Mission's prayer-request lists, or reading a book like Greg Mortenson's Three Cups of Tea that gives me a picture of the hardships and hope of people in Pakistan or Afghanistan, or attending a benefit for an organization like World Relief that helps resettle refugees who've experienced deep trauma in their home countries, or keeping up with the news out of China and Myanmar.

These are small attempts, granted. Even with them I still get quickly and easily consumed by my own worries and concerns. Some days I wonder (like you might be wondering now), what's the point? How does a thought for others--my own little glimpse into their reality--help them out?

Well, maybe it doesn't. Maybe I am fighting a pointless battle or even just playing a game to make myself feel more spiritual. When I hear of the suffering of others, I do often feel the uselessness of my far-away compassion and thoughts. But what's the alternative? To turn a deaf ear? To be "ever hearing but never understanding; . . . ever seeing but never perceiving," as Jesus described the crowds to the disciples in Matthew 13? Jesus could never be accused of that--and as his follower, called to be like him, I don't want it to be true of me either.

The fact is, self-absorption is too natural for my sinful self that, if I'm not intentionally looking for ways to learn about or be reminded of someone else's reality, I'll start to believe (with help from our culture and advertising) that my life and reality are what matters most, and what most people experience--when really nothing could be further from the truth. Ironically, one reason I need to remember others is for me--to keep me from the self-centeredness that is tantalizingly easy to slip into. My small attempts are, in part, my way of keeping perspective on the world--both God's view of it and my place and role in it.

Furthermore, caring about--even when I can't actually care for--others is teaching me more and more about the heart of God that beats so compassionately and lovingly for the refugees, the children forced into slavery and prostitution, the homeless in Myanmar and Chicago. My glimpses of these people's realities give me a deeper glimpse into the heart of God.

Once we start looking, there are hundreds of ways and places to learn about the reality of others who live an extraordinarily different life than we do. It's something we can help each other do as followers of Christ, called to be like him. Post your comments about who you're mindful of and trying to learn more about. Are there books, movies, websites, organizations that help you get outside of yourself and learn about another person's life? Share them with us. (Then we'll feel like we're in touch again!!)

Let me add a caveat: It's certainly not only the thought that counts. Taking action in the ways we can in the places we're called to is essential. But for all the places we can't, thoughts and prayers really do matter in keeping us in touch with who God is, what his kingdom is like and who we're called to be as his people.

The Books of 2Pac

Have I mentioned that I love Very Short List? I learn of so many cool things on the Internet via VSL, the most recent of which is the "I See Dead People's Books" section of librarything.com. Here I get to see what books, for example, Tupac Shakur found compelling enough to buy and bring home and read.

I'm into Tupac lately, based on conversations I've been having with a relatively new friend. Tupac confronts the mainstream image of hip hop as thuggish; though his lyrics are unvarnished and harshly reflective of street life, he is, as his library shows and his biographers attest, deeply thoughtful and culturally important. Two of our authors go so far as to declare him a type of prophet--"not exactly Elijah or Isaiah. But . . . an appropriate word for a given situation. The connections run deeper than you think. It all depends on what you hear."

I'm comfortable with "prophet" being a category not restricted to people in the Bible or even people in the church--although, as with any salutary term, it can be doled out too loosely. But in general I think the world could use more prophetic-minded people, people willing to offer an appropriate word for a given situation. I quote no less a prophet than Moses, no less a prophet than Joel:

"Are you jealous for my sake? I wish that all the LORD's people were prophets and that the LORD would put his Spirit on them!"

"And afterward,
       I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
       Your sons and daughters will prophesy,
       your old men will dream dreams,
       your young men will see visions.

 Even on my servants, both men and women,
       I will pour out my Spirit in those days."

If You're Sad and You Know It, Find a Robot?

A story on the news last week struck me as extraordinarily ironic. A conference in Amsterdam featured robots--all made from Lego robotics sets--created for a contest to "show how humans can live better with robots," as reporter Jeremy Hubbard stated it. Many of the robots were centered around the idea of emotions; one in particular has, among other features, movable eyebrows and is supposed to help children learn to express and deal with fears.

I didn't need a robot to help me express what I felt after seeing the story: namely, sadness and even some fear. While I realize not everyone is able to express their emotions easily or in healthy ways, are we really at a place where we need robots--machines incapable of actually feeling anything--to teach us and our children how to do it? I hope the only way these emotion-portraying robots help us is to perhaps highlight the places we're failing at human connection and authenticity, and spur us to action.

The Triumph of Evel?

I was flipping through the February 2008 issue of Christianity Today (which, incidentally, features the first of several guest columns by longtime friend of Strangely Dim, Al Hsu--check it out, yo!) and came across the "Passages" sidebar, which reports on momentous events in the church and the culture. Included among such momentous events are notable deaths, and included in this month's "Passages" were the deaths of theologian T. F. Torrance and thrill-seeker Evel Knievel. And, considering that word count and column space are premiums in periodical publishing, it appears that February 2007 marks the triumph of Evel in Christianity Today.

I suppose you could chalk it up to alphabetical order or chronology (Knievel died two days before Torrance), but beyond the order of the list is the troubling question of word count and thumbnail image. Staring me in the face at the top of the "Passages" sidebar is a picture of a man "known for his death-defying motorcycle stunts," decked out in his collared jumpsuit. Ninety-five words about Las Vegas and a late-in-life conversion to Christianity later, we move on to the unpictured Thomas F. Torrance, whose ninety-four-year life (compared to sixty-nine for Evel) included a stint as grand poobah of the Church of Scotland and whose widespread influence on a generation of theologians (including a few of my colleagues at InterVarsity Press), was summarized in a mere seventy-two words.

I mean no disrespect to Christianity Today. I just find it funny, the death of two icons of their generations notwithstanding. It's long been my contention that "evil [or, in this case, Evel] is definitely sexier than good [in this case, scientific theology]." The "Passages" sidebar reminds me that generally, in the eyes of the general public, pop culture is sexier than the work of the church.

This doesn't have to be the case, however. I mean really, if we grant that all of life is under the lordship of Christ and thus legitimately subject to theological exploration, shouldn't the church have a say as to what's sexy? I refer you to the recent thoughts of our colleague at IVP Academic and fellow blogger, Dan Reid, as he puts thrill-seeking in its proper context over at Addenda & Errata.

When you put it that way, Torrance will always come out on top.