I’LL BE HONEST: Les Miserables was pretty much over for me when Anne Hathaway wrapped up “I Dreamed a Dream.” Which makes the video below all the better. It’s Oscar time, of course, so it’s time “for your consideration . . .”
Thanks for the head’s up, Grantland.com.
SOMEWHERE IN THE EXCITEMENT of JJ Abram’s being announced as the director of Star Wars Episode Seven VII, I forgot one of the unspoken rules of childhood: you can love Star Wars or Star Trek, but you can’t love both. That was true for me: no matter how many times I saw an episode of the original series or even the animated one, Star Trek never came close to the place that Star Wars had in my imagination and heart.¹ I was reminded of this in the video that was recently posted to YouTube by AVbyte. Check it out.
Special thanks to Michael Giacchino, who pointed this video out on Twitter. Wouldn’t it be great if he got to do the music for Episode VII?
_________________________________________________________________________________________
¹ The first Star Trek movie that I remember being excited about was First Contact, and that was because it involved the Next Generation crew, which I still really am not much of a fan of. The cool part about First Contact? It starred Farmer Hoggett from Babe.
2013 HAS BEEN ROLLING like steam train. I got back from Tennessee to be greeted with a new semester. On the third day of the new semester, Spirit Week commenced. That week, as always, is a joyous trial. Then, this past week, sickness hit the campus just in time for junior camp. And so now, three-day weekend done, I’m finally settling into a groove (maybe) knowing that the steam train only slows because you’re chugging up a hill.
Which makes me glad that this song, “This World” by Caedmon’s Call, has come to mind over these last few days. This world, with its everything and its nothing. This world, with its poor in spirit and full of self. If you haven’t heard the song (either in a while or ever), I encourage you to take a moment and listen.
IN CASE YOU WERE LIKE ME and missed The Golden Globes last week, here’s Tina Fey and Amy Poehler’s opening “monologue” for the event:
I may not always agree with everything they say or skewer with their stand-up or on their respective shows (the soon-to-end 30 Rock or the genuinely optimistic Parks & Recreation), but I do have great respect for their craft. Both women have brought a much-appreciated touch of intelligent, hopeful humor to their primetime roles. Andy Greenwald of Grantland recently posted a quality article about the two and their contributions that every fan of comedy should read. And when you get done reading that, take another 8 minutes and enjoy that opening “monologue” again. Your under-used funny-bone be glad you did.
I WAS QUITE PLEASED to see that Donald Miller had posted a blog entry about the Inauguration. I was more than pleasantly surprised when I discovered that his post spoke well of Douglas Coupland’s Life after God, a series of interconnected stories revolving around a narrator who has left God behind. And yet, as the story ends, the narrator declares:
My secret is that I need God– that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.
One key turn for the narrator, Miller points out, was the presidential inauguration he visits while on the East Coast (as opposed to being home in Canada). It is this point that Miller draws connections between God and inauguration, the hints of our need not for royalty but for a King. That “Perhaps before we get too excited or too deflated about this week’s inauguration we can remember the One that is to come.” We are a forward-looking people. Not that we forget the past or ignore the present, but we live in light of the one who is the Light, whose reign is sure, and whose kingdom knows no end.
You can read all of Miller’s entry here.
Photo courtesy the Washington Post
I’VE HAD OVER 600 STUDENTS pass through my classroom over the last six years. And while each connection is different, I’d be lying if I did not confess a great deal of care for each of them. I don’t sing much at school these days; it’s a bit of an awkward proposition. But if I did, I’d find a way to sing this song: Andrew Peterson’s “You’ll Find Your Way.” Since I can’t sing it for you, I can at least point you to it.¹
_________________________________________________________________________________________
¹ I am mindful of the words of Augustine, mainly because my Faith & Literature class is about to start reading selections from his Confessions: . . . for you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you. We should be relentless in our searching, restless. We may not always understand what we’re looking for, but I can’t help but believe a lot of it is a search for the God who loves us.
WHERE CAN WE GET APPLICATIONS for this school?
I remember seeing the first trailer for Monsters, Inc. years ago and not being impressed at all. And then, when I went to see it upon release, I was more than pleasantly surprised.
This kind of “goody” is part of what makes creativity so great. Just something to put out there to make people stop and smile. Such things may not make the world go round, but they do make parts of the trick a little more enjoyable.
I wonder if financial aid is available?
TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF IS ONE THING; jumping trees is something else entirely.
Turns out that’s exactly what C. S. Lewis did following the events of World War II. According to an article posted at Christianity Today titled “Why C. S. Lewis Didn’t Write for Christianity Today,” Lewis made a complete shift from his apologetic to fiction-writing self. ¹
Following the writing of Miracles, Lewis moved from (his version of) straight-forward apologetics to (his own version of) straight-forward fiction. That earlier approach, the article suggests, was “tailor-made for men at war.” But after the war? Turns out he wanted to write stories to “help get past the eyes of watchful dragons.” It wasn’t an easy shift, just as I imagine apologetics can be a difficult thing.² But it was one he found necessary and important. Because of it we have treasures beyond just Narnia: the Space trilogy, The Great Divorce, Til We Have Faces. These are books that work their own magic in their own telling and work their magic well.
I am mindful of this, here at the beginning of a new year. How interesting that Lewis, who did his work so well, would move from one mode to another, seemingly willingly. It gives one hope for the long road. Not that any of us are necessarily masters of what we are already doing, but that we can (even later in one’s professional career) make new paths that become just as vital as the old ones. To understand the need for that shift and to be willing to make it. That is good courage, and that is heartening here for me as this new year begins.
___________________________________________________________________________________
¹ As a child, I remember thinking that the shows that my afternoon shows (The Jetsons, The Facts of Life) were all first-run shows. It was years before I realized that they were syndicated reruns. The same with most writers’ works. Even when we have a list of publication dates before us, it can be difficult to see any flow or shift. We take them as we get them. I’ve read a good bit of Lewis, but I had yet to make this connection.
² One of my favorite classes to teach is my “Introduction to Christian Thought” class, which is mostly apologetics. It can wear on me, speaking of the faith in a certain way that is more from the outside than the inside. Quote from Lewis found in the article: “That is why we apologists take our lives in our hands and can be saved only by falling back continually from the web of our own arguments … from Christian apologetics into Christ Himself.”
(photo courtesy of assistnews.net)
THERE IS A MOMENT at the end of Life of Pi where Pi (the survivor) and Richard Parker (the tiger) finally reach land. Pi, collapsed on the beach, finds his throat so dry that he cannot speak, cannot utter a word as Richard Parker, his nemesis and sole link to his old life, slowly slinks into the jungle, never to be seen again. With the quiet whish of a tired tail, both a defining relationship and a way of life are over.
When I moved to Hawaii almost ten years ago, I was mostly optimistic about my prospects at making some kind of life. I found most of my connections through work and church (as most relationships require some kind of medium for regular connection). Ebb and flow as they did, they were still good. 2012 was the year many of those connections changed. While some of that change started earlier, this was the year I felt it most. Church friends left. Work friends left. Shifts in families happened. I fumbled my way through most of it.¹ And in the end I sat there, mostly like Pi, unable to say much of anything. And what was there to say? “Stop? Don’t do this?” I may have tried in some cases, but to no avail.² Life moves on; the tiger has left the beach.
A friend once told me that when things change in life that are beyond you, any opportunity for “renegotiation” is rare. Once the initial “deal” has changed, coming up with a “new deal” is difficult if not impossible. I’m curious to see how that plays out in 2013. I choose to believe that some kind of recovery is possible, though what new thing you find might look and act a little different. I do know, as I end 2012, that significant parts of my way of life over the last nine years are over. And I grieve that, though not as one who has no hope. The tiger has left the beach, but something else is on the horizon; “there’s another hill ahead.” Make no mistake: 2012 was a solid year full of good moments with great people in beautiful places.³ I am a million ways grateful for all of them. But 2012 had more than its fair share of “Richard Parker” moments. That’s why I’ll give him some credit here at the end of the year.
__________________________________________________________________________________
¹ I have long known that I’m not the best at maintaining relationships. I’m frustratingly passive-aggressive. Maybe one day I’ll get it right.
² It’s such a strange place to be in, and we’ve all been there. How do you hold on to what is good but also move ahead, push forward? I suppose things like high school and college (and even graduate school for some) feel different because they have “terminal moments.” Almost everyone around you walks across a stage and moves on from there. I wasn’t expecting versions of that to happen this far into adulthood. Shows how much I understand things. . .
³ A few of them: senior trip to Maui (sometimes you just have to step up); late April trip to Portland to visit the coast and see former students and spend two days listening to Donald Miller talk “story”; a great baccalaureate and end-of-the-year with seniors; a good summer school experience; a fall break trip to Denver to see dear friends (and their little one) and a part of the country I had never seen before. Yes, 2012 was a great year. But something about that Richard Parker moment stands out as a real through-line for me.
2
012 WAS A GREAT YEAR FOR BOOKS, at least for me. I spent much of the last ten years “catching up” with authors I did not know. And while there are dozens of dozens of important books I have not read, I think perhaps I have at least a bit of a foothold in the mountain of text written these days.
2012 saw new books from Eggers, Tropper, Chabon, Wright, Bissell, Franzen, and (posthumously) David Foster Wallace. I got to meet one author this year, Donald Miller, who I’ve been reading for the better part of a decade. I saw some of my favorite books turned into movies. I found myself revisiting the thoughts of A. W. Tozer for most of the last half of 2012. And I ended the year with the hint of better things to come all-around with the likes of Robin Sloan.
And so, my three most engaging reads:
1. Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. It was an adventure story that connected the dots between books and technology. It was sincere and hopeful. And it introduced me to Sloan, who has solid web presence. He’s a great thinker, perhaps in line with Coupland and McLuhan for me. I look forward to what he has to say in the future. You can read a really interesting write-up of Sloan here. And speaking of McLuhan. . .
2. Every Love Story is a Ghost Story. This biography by D. T. Max of David Foster Wallace was good look at the deceased author’s life that reminded me a lot of McLuhan in the sense that DFW understood the effects of a ubiquitous television culture. From Max’s view, DFW grew to become a kind of morality writer, which I saw hints of in the recent release of Both Flesh and Not, which was one final collection of DFW’s essays. If you had told me at anytime in the past that I would enjoy a decade-old essay about professional tennis, I would’ve laughed a good laugh. But I did and it was enthralling. I know that biographies make you feel like you know someone better even though you don’t. But it definitely added understanding to an author I am still getting to know.
3. The Pursuit of God. I was introduced to A. W. Tozer years ago, in that space between my high school and college selves. I reread TPOG after I bought a couple of copies as graduation gifts for students. Then I found myself working through God’s Pursuit of Man. Then, up through this past week, I journaled my way through The Root of the Righteous. Tozer was no scholar, at not in our sense of the word. And yet there is a ring of truth to so much of what he says. I was excited to see his thoughts crossing paths with the thoughts of N. T. Wright, just as a younger me was excited to sense a connection of views between Tozer and Bonhoeffer.¹
“Your life must be an open city, with all sorts of ways to wander in,” the protagonist in Sloan’s adventure concludes. Books and movies and music and television have been roads for me, roads and trolleys and subways. I am thankful for them, those who write them and act them and sing them. They make the city of my life a much better place.
___________________________________________________________________________________
¹ In reality, Wright’s How God Became King should be one of my three mentioned. It solidified in my mind some things, things that Tozer helped fit in my heart. Whatever some people’s problems with Wright, I cannot help but think he has cleared away some damaging debris that can help us reimagine the kingdom of God. And Tozer? I’ll be revisiting his thinking much more in 2013.
(image courtesy of radionorthland.com)
Space Enough, and Time 