An Incomplete Manuscript

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"What we must notice at this stage is that, both in the Old Testament and in the New, the present suffering of the world – about which the biblical writers knew every bit as much as we do – never makes them falter in their claim that the created world really is the good creation of a good God. They live with the tension. And they don’t do it by imagining that the present created order is a shabby, second-rate kind of thing, perhaps (as in some kinds of Platonism) made by a shabby, second-rate sort of god. They do it by telling a story of what the one creator God has been doing to rescue his beautiful world and to put it to rights. And the story they tell…indicates that the present world really is a signpost to a larger beauty, a deeper truth. It really is the authentic manuscript of one part of a masterpiece. The question is, What is the whole masterpiece like, and how can we begin to hear the music in the way it was intended?

The point of the story is that the masterpiece already exists – in the mind of the composer. At the moment, neither the instruments nor the players are ready to perform it. But when they are, the manuscript we already have – the present world with all its beauty and puzzlement – will turn out to be truly part of it. The deficiencies in the one part we possess will be made good. The things that don’t make sense at the moment will display a harmony and perfection we hadn’t dreamed of. The points at which today the music seems almost perfect, lacking just one small thing, will be completed. That is the promise held out in the story. Just as, in one of the New Testament’s greatest claims, the kingdoms of this world are to become the kingdom of God, so the beauty of this world will be enfolded in the beauty of God – and not just the beauty of God himself, but the beauty which, because God is the creator par excellence, he will create when the present world is rescued, healed, restored and completed."


N.T. Wright in Simply Christian:Why Christianity Makes Sense. Harper Collins hardcover p 47.

And Now Vampires...

My friend Ron pointed out that not only are Dragons being misappropriated by the popular culture, so is the vampire. To this I must shout an Amen.

The vampire myth goes way back, but as far as I can tell became prominent and common in modern western circles with the publication of Bram Stoker's novel. Having read that book and performed in a chamber theater production of a theatrical adaptation of the book (as Jonathan Harker, the hapless solicitor) I have a powerful appreciation for the story and it's layered exploration of the human condition.

Also among my top list of favorite books are the Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. Her vampires are certainly of a different order than Count Vlad Dracul, but also layered, complex, dangerous and yes, evil. Yet their evil is not as simple as Dracula's. It is not the monochromatic malevolence of the monster, but more of a reflection of the evil that lives in the hearts of all humans. These vampires struggle with all the questions that we humans struggle with, but along a parallel track -- and that makes their struggle in some ways easier to empathize with. It helps us see their nature -- both good and bad -- more clearly. These vampires are undoubtedly plagued with a curse, and that curse, although it has completely changed their destinies and natures, it also grants them certain kinds of blessings.

Lewis dealt with this sort of "problem" briefly in his introduction to the Screwtape Letters. There is a problem in writing of the Adversary. The temptation is to make him flat, one dimensional, pure evil. But really, you can't. It is not possible. He is dangerous because he is (for instance) intelligent, witty, attractive, etc. Intelligence and all those other qualities are  good things in and of themselves. You can't say that bad creatures cannot have good qualities, for then they would largely cease to be.

Of course that tells us something about the nature of evil and our condition. Evil cannot create of itself, it can only pervert and ruin that which is good by twisting it and bending toward evil purpose.

In Anne Rice's books, you see this complexity exquisitely played out in her vampire characters. Yet while you sympathize with her characters, you don't find yourself desiring them. They are attractive at a certain level, but certainly repulsive. They seek redemption from their condition, but must also accept that they are killers. Their survival requires the shedding of blood -- and it never stops. Ultimately they are doomed by their appetites and tied to the earth. She uses them as more than just symbols. As I said, they are a mirror which Ms. Rice holds up to our faces so that we can see ourselves -- and the view is not pretty.

Now comes Twilight and it's ilk.

Again, I am writing having neither read the books nor seen the movies. I probably will do one or the other or both eventually. I'm not on a crusade, nor will I cordon myself off from their "impure" influences. I know that my ignorance and inexperience opens me up to criticism. Very well. Have it it. Instruct me. But first I will have my say.

These dimly lit vampires seem to be of a different ilk altogether from either Stoker's or Rice's. They strike me as childrens' vampires. Granted, they are for older children, who will be attracted to their barely suppressed sexual longing, and will identify with their anxiety for love and belonging. I say they are childrens' vampires because it seems they are treated as if they were simply people of a different color or culture. When faced with such differences, popular culture tells us we should behave toward them like children. It's as if we were all young girls, staring longingly at her toothy paramour, thinking:

"If we only understood them, if we only took the time to listen to them and get to know them we could see that really, they are just like us. Can't we all just get along. Really? Because he is soooooo cute, and I think I  would really like to have his little vampire babies."

So they seem to be childrens' vampires, and girls' vampires as well. They seem all to be of the type that will have the adolescent femme swooning. The POV of the stories is that of this girl, who operates as the universal archetype of verging womanhood in all of us. Perhaps that is meant to be a corrective for ages of paternalistic masculine symbolic domination. OK. Whatever. I'm still not sure it's really a good idea.

As much as I love teenage girls, both (once upon a time) from the perspective of a teenage boy, and (more recently) of the father of a soon to be teenage girl, I think we must admit that teenage girls, as a group, tend to have a rather peculiarly astigmatic view of reality.

Is it possible that by positioning us all as teenage girls, we are pulling the fangs from vampires too? As literature, what do these stories show us about our own natures, our own condition? I'm not sure I agree with Mr. Wilson (who occasionally has been known to overstate his case) but he does offer one possible view I cite as an example.

I am not alarmed. This sort of thing is to be expected, and as I get older I will find more and more opportunities to decry how the world is just going to heck in some kind of basket or other. I don't like to read too much into such things.

But I do feel like something is being lost here. I don't guess it is the end of the world, but I find myself asking when the symbols of evil are all tamed and domesticated, how will we find new ways to look into the dark jungles of the heart that are full of all manner of wild and authentically terrifying beasts? What pictures will be use to see ourselves and know that we need a way out? What mirrors will aid us to see our need for that redemptive heart surgery?

I guess we will see.

Fecal Badinage

U. Utah Phillips may be my favorite old communist. He is a maker of song, raconteur, unabashed socialistic union partisan and general rabble rouser. For all that he is a true and authentic delight to listen to. He maybe even more favorite to me than Pete Seeger. You just got to appreciate a man that can carve a tale with such callous-handed mastery, wielding words like the sharpest wood chisels and an old honest-to-god 50 grit voice. Rural ribaldries. Raucus rusticana. Fecal badinage. Oh the language!

Phillips passed on this last year. His presence will be missed.    

Tim Sample Sample

I spent many hours hanging out with friends retelling "Bert and I" stories. Tim Sample is the latter day embodiment of the spirit of Downeast comedy. The most amazing thing about this is I grew up listening to real people that really talked much like this. This of course, is how Maine sounds - and Maine sounds slightly different from New Hampshire, Vermont, or Massachusetts, etc. The differences are subtle but clear for those who have the ear. Today it all runs together

To me these speech patterns are musical, the turns of phrase poetic. My girls don't understand why every once in a while (okay...more like at any given moment) I will lapse into my version of some form of New England brogue.

All I can say is that it amuses me.

That's Bad! No..That's Good!

Old Sai was a farmer, old and well respected in the village for his wisdom, and his ability to prosper. Recently he acquired, at great expense, a fine draft horse to use in his fields. He had not had the mare very long when it ran away. His neighbors gather to and his neighbors console him in his bad luck. Sai, however, simply says, "What makes you so sure it isn't a blessing?" His neighbors think he must be getting a bit senile.
Then, a few days later, the horse returns with a stallion by its side. This time the neighbors gather to celebrate and congratulate him on his good fortune. Sai simply says, "What makes you so sure that it isn't disaster?" The neighbors look at him quizzically, as if he simply can’t make up his mind.
Several days later, Sai’s only son is riding the horse into town and he gets bucked off and breaks his hip. Again the neighbors gather to console him and again Sai simply says, "What makes you so sure that it isn't a blessing?" 3 months later a large force of raiding nomads come across the border. The army comes to the village and presses every able-bodied man into service. In the ensuing battle, the Chinese army loses 9 out of 10 men. Nevertheless, because the son was still recovering from his broken hip he was not called to war, and so the father and son survived to care for each other.

We’ve had a bit of an “Oh that’s bad….No that’s good!” the last couple of weeks. Let me try to outline it for you.

My wife got into a car accident.
Oh that’s bad.
No, that’s good. Nobody was hurt.
Oh. That’s good.
Well, not really. The insurance company declared the car a total loss.
Oh. That’s bad.
No, actually that’s good. They gave me a pretty good settlement for it, and we got a much newer car that I won’t have to make payments on for at least a year.

Or there’s this one…

It snowed a LOT this year.
That’s good.
Well, not so good. The snow and ice really built up on our roof.
Oh, that’s bad.
Not too bad. Fortunately we have a very steep pitch on our roof.
Oh, that’s good.
Actually, not so much. It all came crashing down a few weeks ago and crushed our back deck.
Ohhh. That’s pretty bad.
It looks like it’s going to be good. The insurance is going to buy us a new deck to replace the old one. We’ve been wanting to replace it for a few years, but didn’t have the money. Now we can.

Those are true stories. Makes me wonder about all the other stuff that’s going on. Who can really tell in the middle of any given event what the ultimate outcome or purpose will be?

This theme is pervasive throughout Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Remember this speech by Sam as he contemplate what he has learned about adventures.

We shouldn’t be here at all [Sam says to Frodo], if we’d known more about it
before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way the brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of sport, as you might say. But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually -- their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t. And if they had, we shouldn’t know because they’d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on -- and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same -- like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren’t always the best tales to hear though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of tale we’ve fallen into?"

Then there is that wonderful exchange at the end where Gandalf puts everything into perspective.

"What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature [Frodo declares] when he had a chance!"
"Pity? [Gandalf replies] It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure that [Bilbo] took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity."
"I am sorry" said Frodo. "But I am frightened; and I do not feel any pity for Gollum."
"You have not seen him," Gandalf broke in.
"No, and I don’t want to," said Frodo. ". . . Now at any rate he is as bad as an Orc, and just an enemy. He deserves death."
"Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends. I have not much hope that Gollum can be cured before he dies, but there is a chance of it. And he is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, or good or Ill, before the end; and when that comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many -- yours not least."

What part do I have to play? What drama is being played out in the minutiae and broad strokes of my life? I am not quick to deal out death in judgement, but I am often quick to deal out judgement on the circumstances of my life. There is more to my life than cars and decks. There is business, a marriage, a church, and all manner of accounts. A wife, children, friends, colleagues, clients and patrons. These and many other parts fit together but all of it is always changing. Some of it is easy, and some is not so easy. Pleasant and unpleasant – it’s all mixed together, but I can’t really always tell what is GOOD at the moment. Sometimes not even some time later.

Is this an element of faith -- to wait on events without judging them? To trust somehow that it's all OK, even when it seems strange to think that?

If I recall correctly, my Buddhist friends say that life is suffering and that suffering arises from desire or attachment. When one comes to understand that the meaning of an event can change in a moment, is this a step toward enlightenment? We must be careful about attaching ourselves to strongly to the meaning of any event, for it’s ultimate meaning may be inscrutable. We may simply be wrong.

On the other hand, the Apostle Paul encourages us the be content in whatever state we find ourselves in. Crushed deck? Be content. Smashed car? Be content. Ilness? Surgery? Poverty? Be content.

Not an easy place to cultivate, but I think we are learning. It’s a strange road with an unclear map and many curves around which we cannot see. What is around the next bend? Is it good? We shall see.