Rev-e-rie

Reading jaylake 's blog has been a melancholy experience for me recently. In terms of productivity, one normal Jay equals one and a half mere mortals: a full-time job, a formidable web and personal-appearance presence, a flight-intensive relationship with calendula_witch , time devoted to his child the_child ... and, oh yes, a writing career that involves producing 2500 words each day and a couple of novels a year.

Okay, two mere mortals.

Lately Jay has been chronicling his experience with cancer and with chemo. He's been rather explicit about it. In view lately has been his pain at diminished energy, increased sleep, and fewer words coming from the processor. It's temporary. We all expect that he'll recover completely. Still, for now, he resents it, I think.

The rest of this post jumps from that point into Christianity, a realm Jay visits occasionally but does not inhabit. On the other hand, it's where almost all my resources and images originate; for me, it's what Jay calls "mythical truth." (A myth is defined as a story that has power.)

The central Christian story involves a man, Jesus, who is so filled with God's presence as to wield God's power: over nature, over illness, and even over death. Productive? I should say so.

And yet the most powerful image of the faith is of a man nailed to a cross, totally helpless. Not free to move his arms, not free to stand straight, not free to catch a breath; experiencing indescribable pain in the shoulders, the back, the sides, the hips, the knees, the feet. He's hungry and thirsty. He's not in control of his bowels or his bladder. This man cannot provide for his mother but must pass her care into the hands of a friend; this man is mocked by the leaders of his own tribe and faith, and is condemned by his government, which puts a label above the dying man: "head Jew." "That's your god up there on that cross!"

To which Christians, then and now, say: "yes."

Because for us, being godly, living the abundant life, is not finally about making the bestseller list (though Jesus did), nor about people liking you (thousands liked Jesus, for a while), nor about wielding power--over others, nor even over our own lives. For us, it's about loving God as best we can, loving our neighbor in word and especially deed, and trusting that finally God will honor that way of life.

Because of course - so the myth goes - God honored Jesus. Jesus rose from the dead with the God's seal of approval: Yes, Jesus can be trusted; yes, Jesus' way leads to both truth and life; yes, finally there's victory over death; yes, Jesus somehow opens us to the final victory of love over hate, peace over violence, good over evil. Somehow the helpless man on the cross becomes the gateway to lasting life.

This has practical implications for the Christian. It means that when St. Paul is "helpless" in prison, he can still solidify an entire religion. It means that when Jesus' eleven closest disciples die "helplessly" for their faith, their deaths are an expansion, not a constriction. It means that, though Adolf Hitler might shut the "helpless" Bonhoeffer away, Bonhoeffer wins. It means when Paul Brand walks among the despised and unclean lepers, he's doing the most important work in the world.

It means when the bodies of our elderly break down, the plot of their lives gets more interesting. At the breaking point, they say, I lose the God of my old ways, I cannot work my way into heaven, but I find God in new ways, and accept the gifts of life gratefully.

It means that when, after the years and years that stretch ahead of us, we fight our damndest against death, and die anyway, yet we live. 

Well, I meant just to hold up a helpful image or two, to tell a story that has some power. I ended up preaching.

At my best I'm not as productive as Jay at his worst. But it's about impact, not production, and this I'd say: perhaps Jay's productive life has led to great impact now. This trip through the valley has opened the eyes of many of us who are well, bolstered many who are not, and deepened, it seems, Jay's own self.

And by the way - to allude to another great philosopher - he's not dead yet.
 

12/31/09

I know, I said my next blog would be about productivity. But I'm on vacation, and who wants to think that hard?

So instead, let's talk about Death of a Starship. (That's right, you've stumbled upon The Blog That Reacts To the Blog that Jay Lake Writes: All Jay, All the Time.) 

Starship, Jay's newest novel, has just been published, This isn't a review - reviews, like theology, takes thought, which I've already ruled out. But I had a reading experience that I've never had before. Namely, I read a draft of this novel before it was published.

So when I bought the book, I read it in parallel with the draft on my computer.

It was like being invited behind the curtain by the Wizard of Oz. Here is where Jay cut an infodump, there he added explanatory material, in this spot he fleshed out a character, there he traded an almost-right word for the right one.

I also discovered that my input was pretty much useless for the last half of the book. The plot gets moving there, and I must have gotten caught up in the story, because I didn't mark much. On the other hand, Jay must have been pretty happy there too, because HE didn't change much; a few touches for clarity, is all.

Overall I was pretty pleased with the characterization of the priest, one of the main characters. He has a few instant identifiers, and he's also got some depth and individuality. I, at least, found I could like him and sympathize with him, and respect his choices in the end.

I've not read anybody blogging about this kind of experience; maybe I'm breaking some kind of fourth wall convention, "talking about Fight Club." Still it's a learning experience I haven't had before.
 

On Jay Lake’s cancer

 

The fact that Jay Lake has cancer has been causing me some serious thought. Here is an energetic, young, quirky, unique individual with a child, a sweetie, a Day Jobbe (about which we know only that it involves misspelling Jobbe), a career writing fiction (2500 words a day), a bunch of friends, and a blog with what? 5000 readers? 

 

Realize at the outet that I’m approaching this as a believer in Jesus Christ, Emmanuel, “God with us.” Jay’s an atheist, and God knows I’m not gonna try for a conversion here. It's not nice to treat people as objects, even objects intended for conversion.  Instead, this is a little Christian meditation rising to the yeast of Jay’s cancer. 

 

Let’s say a couple of things right off the bat. 

 

1. God is not punishing Jay because he’s an atheist. Not only is the theology kind of horrifying--God as The Punisher--there’s also a problem with reality here. I mean, thousands or millions of faithful Christians have had cancer. God can’t be punishing all of them for atheism, right? 

 

2. God is not using this cancer to catch Jay’s attention. Now, there is just enough truth in this to make it a really tempting error in thinking. Here is truth it springs from: Some people find blessing in cancer.  Some people come through cancer and say “I didn’t want this stuff, I wouldn’t want to go through it again, but you know, in some ways it was really good for me. I learned how precious life is, I cherish each moment now, I learned I have many people in my life who care deeply for me,” and, from Christians sometimes, “I discovered that God never abandoned me and am confident God never will.” 

I'm aware as I write this that I have no right to write this.  I don't know if I would be up to that kind of attitude.  But it does happen.   

I’m not saying cancer survivors have to talk like this. I appreciate Jay’s approach of letting the emotions fall where they may, good and bad, blessing and curse. But I know people, some of them quite secular, who really have felt their cancer was a blessing. 

 Here’s what I think happens for Christians. God is with us in all events, happy and sad and scary and serene. But the sheer intensity of the cancer experience makes it stand out from ordinary life, marks it as an occasion for deep meaning, possibly opens eyes to life and love in a way that’s not normally accessible. 

 

Shoot, God’s with us even in death: Jesus went through it (and came out on the other side). I have been at the bedside of Christians who faced their own death with utter fearlessness and even joy. 

 

Again, this is not prescriptive (“Cancer? Don’t worry! Be happy!”). It is descriptive. Some people do come through cancer with a deeper appreciation for life, love, and God. However, that’s a long way from saying God gave them cancer as a wake-up call. 

 

Cancer happens. It is not some kind of awful tool for conversion. For the Christian, though, it holds the possibility of experiencing the sacred. 

 

Next post: Productivity. One of the things that is causing Jay a lot of emotional pain is that he doesn’t have his usual energy, isn’t thinking as clearly and swiftly as usual, and is about to go through chemo and radiation that will make the situation worse. Protestants should sympathize; after all, they named a Work Ethic after us. However, I wonder if the Bible has some wisdom for those of diminished productivity. (It may be a while until the next post happens. I don’t work so fast.)

My latest brainstorm at church is to orient worship around  telling/hearing a Bible story.  Not new, you say, there's scripture in every worship service everywhere.  Yes, but I'm telling the Bible as a story, word-for-word, from memory, a chapter at a time.  OK, not the whole Bible.  I've chosen 37 chapters that will take us from Genesis 1 to Revelation 21, the length of the Bible. 

I thought I'd record some of what happens during the week I prepare for the telling, because it's somewhat different from preparing for a sermon.  I do Bible study, look up words, etc., just as usual.  But these things are now in service of telling the story. 

For instance:  when God says to the serpent, "cursed are you," is God angry?  Sad?  Firm?  Since it's God's piece of dialogue, I have to decide. 

How about the woman's "the serpent tempted me, and I ate"?  A brave admission?  Or does she cast her eyes down and squirm? 

Another decision:  what translation to use?  I settled on the New Revised Standard Version, as both accurate and dignified.  I know there are times when it won't be as clear or as vigorous as, say, The Message; but paraphrases and dynamic equivalence translations either update the metaphors and images or omit them entirely, and embed too many exegetical decisions in the translation, for my purposes. 

(After the story, I connect the story to life, and challenge the congregation to connect the story to their lives.  Which, come to think of it, good stories do by their nature; but I give the congregation time to pursue the question.) 

Wil this fly in my churches?  Stay tuned. 

This morning jaylake noted that Christians are "more likely to back torture."  As Christians who actually do try to follow Christ, to love God and neighbor, this is obviously not good news.  So I spent some time on this. 

Christians are more likely to back torture - than whom? I asked myself.  So after following Jay's link, I went to the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, which did the survey.  

The question they asked:  "Do you think the use of torture against suspected terrorists in order to gain important information can often be justified, sometimes be justified, rarely be justified, or never be justified?"

The Pew material doesn't give "Christians vs. everyone else" breakdowns.  The Christians involved are white evangelical Protestants (62% answer "often or sometimes"), white non-Hispanic Catholics (51%), and white mainline Protestants (46%); the non-Christians have one group, "the Unaffiliated" (40%)  There's also a summary line for the population as a whole (49%).  In all other categories, sample size was too small to report. 

White mainline Protestants are actually less likely to "back torture" than the population as a whole, which is some small comfort.  The big bump is from evangelicals, who are more likely than the population.  All of the Christian groups are "more likely to back torture" than the single category of Unaffiliated. 

Then I tried to find the margin of error for the survey; 742 respondents seemed like an awfully small sample size to me, and the largest group they split out - evangelicals - included only 174 respondents.  Pew didn't give the margin of error.  However, their first report on this survey split out other demographics.  There, the closest group to this sample size was 188 respondents.  For that group, the margin of error was plus-or-minus 8% to give a 95% confidence level.  In other words, if we want to be 95% sure the survey is accurate, we should read the line as:  
     41%-57% of   the U.S. population   answer "often or sometimes." 
     54%-70% of    evangelicals 
     43%-59% of    white non-Hispanic Catholics
     38%-54% of    white mainline Protestants
     32%-48% of    the unaffiliated

Which is still stunningly bad, I think.  Those of us who are involved in churches may want to bring this up. 

My own take?  Obviously, followers of Jesus do not torture. 

Those who justify torture often use the "ticking bomb" scenario:  "If a terrorist nuclear device was about to explode in New York City and your captive knew where it was, wouldn't you use any possible means to find out?"  Well.  Let's suppose two things:  1.  I decide to torture, and 2. I get accurate information (which is actually unlikely) and save New York City.  The proper thing for me to do is turn myself in as a lawbreaker and be prosecuted for it.  That's what happened at civil rights sit-ins and marches; demonstrators deliberately broke unjust laws and were arrested for it, in order to demonstrate that the law was wrong. 

This is a review of Jay Lake's Mainspring, focusing especially on the portrayal of the protagonist as a person of faith. 

I've put most of it under the cut.  It's huge, more suitable for some wacked-out university class--except I don't footnote it!  (And also, it's probably a "B" paper at best.) 

 

A caveat: I have chosen to write this before reading Escapement, in order to let Mainspring stand on its own. So by now, everything I say may be inoperative. 

***
 

ABSTRACT: This review attempts to examine Hethor, the protagonist of Jay Lake’s Mainspring, as a person of faith. The plot is driven by a revelation to Hethor, his call to action, and by his subsequent trust of that revelation. Therefore, if the book is to succeed, he must be believable as a person of faith. Is he? I find that he mostly is. Beyond Hethor himself, his world is, I argue, a world split between one culture that’s rationalist, clockwork, and essentially faithless; and one that’s magical, mythical, musical, into which some faith can enter. In the person of Hethor, those poles are reconciled. In the faithless North, he is a person of faith; and to the faith-borne South, he brings unmatched ability with the clockwork earth. 

 

 

( Long boring review starts here... )

 

 

V. Conclusion

 

Hethor’s journey is the story of a maturing faith, which begins in cold rationality, adds revelation, struggles through difficulty (physical and spiritual), pushes on anyway, and finally becomes adequate to accomplish the God-given task. On the whole, I find Mainspring’s depiction of Hethor as person of faith to be believable. Beyond that, the depiction of the Wall is thought-provoking. The Wall is the Corpus Collosum of the world, separating the analytical from the intuitive hemispheres. Hethor becomes the great unifier of the two. And if, as a person of faith, his greatness comes a little too much from humanity and perhaps too little from God, well, his journey is still fascinating and his character faithful. 

Here's a link to an interesting set of statements from e.g. the Adler Planetarium, concerning the $3 million projector Sen. McCain was complaining about.  Turns out, you can't get one of these at Best Buy. 

http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2008/10/8/111343/511/549/623891

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Back home and doing homely things, after electing two bishops.  (OK, after watching two bishops get elected.  Twenty-five ballots.)  Tuesday through Saturday, for the second time in a month, I dusted off my video production skills and directed the support video at a United Methodist meeting. 

And Friday, I made a fast run back to Eugene (from Portland, where we met) to see Becky in her theatre camp final production.  They did bunches of songs from various musicals.  She was in "Speaking French,"  from Lucky Stiff, plus all-attender production numbers.  It was cool.  Songs!  Dances!  That's my Becky up there!  

So now I'm back in town.  I preached this morning.  I attended a Church Council meeting.  I took Becky to a pool party (the wet kind).  I did some phone counseling, about which I cannot tell you.  Supper.  Then for family night, we watched WKRP in Cincinnati and had prayers.  Let me see... oh yes, I napped.  

I read other people's journals and some of them can make the mundane sound exciting.  Not me.  But you know what, there's something to be said for routine.  

Happy birthday to Becky!  She's 14, since yesterday (14 on the 14th!).  Her favorite part of the celebration didn't actually involve Kathy or me.  At theatre camp, 51 trained singers and a former Broadway accompanist sang "Happy birthday" to her.  In harmony.  51-part harmony?  I dunno, I wasn't there.  

Also, Kevin had a day off from staff work at Suttle Lake Camp and rafted down the McKenzie River to get here.  OK, the camp staff had a river outing planned, and he caught a ride at the end of it.  So we were together for the first time in, golly, what, a month?  

Good times, and rich Market of Choice cake, were had by all.  

Yesterday, from 4 PM to 9 PM, Kathy, Becky and I twisted balloons at the Lights of Liberty celebration in Springfied.  I find it hugely fun to relate to the kids who want balloon hats or animals.  But we don't do many five-hour gigs twisting for a line, and I forget my moves.  Not how to twist necessarily - but management issues. 

For instance, in all that time I only took one break - 20 minutes for supper.  Ten minutes each hour or two is better.  With three of us there, I could do that.  It's a little harder because there are certain pieces I do that Kathy and Becky don't.  And it's easy to forget because the line never stops and there's always the next child looking forward to her pink poodle.  But if I don't take breaks...  well, yesterday my hands cramped up.  A nice young man waited his 20 minutes in line or whatever and wanted a gold motorcycle.  Motorcycles are of moderate  difficulty; not super hard, but they have an apple twist and a couple of split twists and so on.  Furthermore, gold balloons are metallic (not real gold though!), which makes them more resistant to twisting.  And, without breaks, I had been without water.  So when I tied it off, my thumb cramped and contracted toward my palm.  I pulled it back and tried to continue... several times, but I couldn't do the small twists required.  So I gave the poor guy's mother a business card and said call me, I'll bring a motorcycle by.  

Drank water, rested a moment, and did swans and doggies (easy stuff) till my hands recovered.  

I apply this to life and take it as a parable.  Probably many possible morals, but I remind myself:  self-discipline involves self-care, not self-punishment. 

This gig, BTW, is a family tradition.  The last two years we've done this as a foursome.  But this year, of course, Kevin's at his summer job.  

... our house this morning.  It's July 4, it's Eugene, so it's the Butte to Butte!  A 10 K race from Spencer Butte (south of town) to Skinner Butte (north).  And no Olympic Trials will prevent the true Eugenean from running!  So I must not be a true Eugenean, because I watched it from our street.  We're on the first big hill they have to run up, which separates the serious runners from the runners-for-fun.  Our neighbors brought lawn chairs and we all cheered the runners.  Across the street, a ukele band entertained and encouraged the runners, and they passed out free doughnuts.  My son usually runs, but he's away, so my daughter and her friend joined me in watching, or I joined them.  

We don't always get a chance to do neighborly things, so this was fun.  

And this afternoon, the Raines family will twist balloons into little doggies and things, at the Lights of Liberty.  Then fireworks!  

All in all, quite a 4th. 

A very nice supper, with grilled steak, grilled vegetables, a nice Caesar salad, and fresh fruit.  But what was great was, Becky cooked it, with her friend Tory; at Tory's house.  I am not sure we can expect such provender every evening, but this, I enjoyed.  

Well, maybe.  I just got back from Oregon-Idaho Annual Conference, the yearly meeting of United Methodist clergy and laity in this region.  We passed a resolution that Congress should establish a "Truth and Accountability Commission," to look into the high crimes and misdemeanors of the Bush administration.  So that's done.  (The maker of the motion:  "when your grandchildren ask what you said when civil liberties went down the toilet, do you want to say 'nothing'?")  We couldn't get impeachment through, though.  

We also sponsored a free rock concert by Jars of Clay, a multiple-platinum, Grammy-winning Christian rock band.  Our ticket in:  we had to provide two cans of food for the Marion County food bank.  The Salem--and more distant--community was invited, in fact it was mostly for them, not us.  It was fun, lots of energy, and showed (we hope) a movement toward meeting the spiritual needs of young adults and youth.  

I did tech; I returned to my salad days, and directed the video floor coverage of conference.  I really like directing live, unscripted TV.  There's an excitement there.  Also, when you direct live TV, the camera operators often do what you tell them to.  Um, not that church members DON'T, of course.  

It's not broadcast, but it's still fun. 

Also Becky, the theatre child, ran the sound board, or part of it.  So that was fun.  

We had wonderful worship, all the way from a processional with Latin chant to praise band to light jazz to, well, Jars of Clay.  Worship also included video segments and presentation software.  Our bishop preached often, and he's really a good preacher.  He doesn't mind challenging the conference to change, and he's clear about the direction he sees as necessary, but he's also gracious and appreciative of people.  

We did lots of other stuff too.  

... or, excuse me, a "ceremony of completion."  Becky graduated from 8th grade, and the school had a ceremony.  Becky not only graduated, but also helped produce a video about the 8th graders.  (Wow, produce video... just like I used to do!  *snif*.)  And now she's at an end-of-year dance.  Parents got to peek in and see the decorations,   Then we were shooed out.  I gotta say, it was AWFULLY dark in there...

Pics when they're available!  

And he looks very happy.  

Graduation Day for South Eugene High School, and here's Kevin!  Grandma and Aunt Mary came down from Portland and the Seattle area (respectively).  We had wonderful cake.  Then went to the Hult Center and sat in the eighth or tenth row from the front.  Got pictures, too. 

South Eugene HS is an amazing place; full of high achievers academically, artistically, athletically.  Kevin ran in fast company and kept up.  Tomorrow he's off to summer camp... as staff.  It'll be different around here.  

 I took Kevin to his summer job staff training and waited for him to get done; so I spent Thursday and Friday at Suttle Lake Camp, in the Cascades.  I had my own private cabin (bathroom and everything!) and two days with no interruptions.  

This is the way to write:  roll out of bed when you want to, maybe 7:30 AM; get some writing in while waiting for the Prilosec to take hold; eat some nice shredded wheat; write some more; take a break, walk among the mountain pines and along the ridge; write some more; spread peanut butter on bread and eat it; take the typewriter table out among the pines and firs, and write some more; eat at the potato bar prepared by the camp cook; relax in the evening with walks, reading, and OK, solitaire.  

Oh yes, make sure the sun is out and it's 72 degrees, with just a breath of wind.  

OK, I did some church work too.  But I tweaked and formatted my Writers of the Future entry for this quarter; I worked through two plot problems that have hung up my little novel for two years; I fixed a broken scene; and generated new words to boot.  

I missed my family, but other than that, it was great.  Of course the good thing would be to create like that anywhere, anywhen.  But this was very pleasant.  

...The eighth grade year at Spencer Butte, that is.  Becky and her friend Hannah applied to be the directors of the Student-Directed Play this year, and were chosen.  So they've been working for five or six months to pull it off.  

Saturday and Sunday, it all came together in two performances.  The reviews are in:  "brilliant!"  "Funny!"  "If you see only one production of _Murder's in the Heir_ this year, make this the one!"  And that's only ONE review.  (Well... mine.)  

I was pleased and proud that these two directors could put together an acting-and-tech team capable of holding my interest for two hours.  It's a formidable task, but then Becky and Hannah are formidable people.  It was great to see Becky In Charge - firm but calm (usually) - and wonderful that the result was worth the effort.  

 ... for Kevin.  Next Saturday, he graduates from South Eugene HS.  So the Woman, and Becky, and I hosted an open house yesterday (Sunday) from 5-8 pm.  

Now here at the House of Raines, we face formidable challenges when it comes to parties. 
And so did we.  Have a good time, I mean.  Not wrestle.  

 Just read a long and nuanced review of _Expelled_, the Ben Stein movie claiming Intelligent Design proponents are unfairly "cast out" of the scientific establishment.  The review is posted at www.asa3.org, an organization of scientists who are also Christians. 

Jeffrey P. Schloss, the author, divides the movie into three central claims: