Upon his arrival to Emmanuel, Dr. Jason Bembry gave the students the following advice: to read fiction. It is easy to get caught up in theological debates in a place like this. To wonder about which method of understanding the Bible, baptism, communion or any of a plethora of other questions should be answered and addressed. It's easy to get lost in the musings of Barth, Calvin, Aquinas and others. It's easy to focus intently on Greek and Hebrew, attempting to root out what Paul meant in his letters or the message that the Jewish prophets were attempting to convey to God's chosen People.
These exercises are necessary. The academic study of the Christian religion is an integral part of our faith. But there is much more required than just research and theological questioning. I am often reminded that while the information is certainly useful and helpful, I still need to ground myself in the rest of the world as well. A minister who loses connection with those being ministered to is, in the end, not really worth much. Constantly I find myself trying to take the concepts I learn in class and apply them to situations and people I meet on an everyday basis. Some of these people are practicing Christians, and others would have nothing to do with religion, but are interested in seeing me sweat it out.
In short, Dr. Bembry's advice was to remind us seminarians that there is a larger world out there, and we are called to participate in it, to relate to it, to speak into it. Without this ability, all of our questioning and musing really isn't worth much either.
To be honest, I enjoyed hearing the advice, as someone who is a rather avid reader of fiction already. And there are thoughts that even fiction writers can evoke from us, and emotions that can be stirred. I'll choose two passages from two of my favorite books to show you what I mean. They are American Gods by Neil Gaiman, who happens to be (in my opinion) one of the best writers on the planet today, and Terry Prachett, who while less serious than Gaiman, is no less talented.
None of this can actually be happening. If it makes you more comfortable, you could simply think of it as a metaphor. Religions are, by definition, metaphors, after all: God is a dream, a hope, a woman, an ironist, a father, a city, a house of many rooms, a watchmaker who left his prize chronometer in the desert, someone who loves you--even, perhaps, against all evidence, a celestial being whose only interest in to make sure your football team, army, business, or marriage thrives, prospers and triumphs over all opposition.
Religions are places to stand and look and act, vantage points from which to view the world.
So none of this is happening. Such things could not occur. Never a word of it is literally true. Even so, the next thing that happened, happened like this:
-American Gods
I WILL GIVE YOU A LIFT BACK, said Death, after a while.
"Thank you. Now.. tell me..."
WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HADN'T SAVED HIM?
"Yes! The sun would have risen just the same, yes?"
NO.
"Oh come on. You can't expect me to believe that. It's an astronomical fact."
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
She turned on him.
"It's been a long night, Grandfather! I'm tired and I need a bath! I don't need silliness!"
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
"Really? The what would have happened, pray?"
A MERE BALL OF FLAMING GAS WOULD HAVE ILLUMINATED THE WORLD.
They walked in silence for a moment.
"Ah," said Susan dully. "Trickery with words. I would have thought you'd have been more literal-minded than that."
I AM NOTHING IF NOT LITERAL-MINDED. TRICKERY WITH WORDS IS WHERE HUMANS LIVE.
"All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need... fantasies to make life bearable?"
REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.
"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little--"
YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.
"So we can believe the bigs ones?"
YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.
"They're not the same at all!"
YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER ANS SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET-- Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME... SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.
"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point--"
MY POINT EXACTLY.
She tried to assemble her thoughts.
THERE IS A PLACE WHERE TWO GALAXIES HAVE BEEN COLLIDING FOR A MILLIONS YEARS, said Death, apropos of nothing. DON'T TRY TO TELL ME THAT'S RIGHT.
"Yes, but people don't think about that," said Susan. "Somewhere there was a bed..."
CORRECT. STARS EXPLODE, WORLDS COLLIDE, THERE'S HARDLY ANYWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE WHERE HUMANS CAN LIVE WITHOUT BEING FROZEN OR FRIEND, AND YET YOU BELIEVE THAT A... A BED IS A NORMAL THING. IT IS THE MOST AMAZING TALENT.
"Talent?"
OH, YES. A VERY SPECIAL KIND OF STUPIDITY. YOU THINK THE WHOLE UNIVERSE IS INSIDE YOUR HEADS.
"You make us sound mad," said Susan. A nice warm bed...
NO. YOU NEED TO BELIEVE IN THINGS THAT AREN'T TRUE. HOW ELSE CAN THEY BECOME?
-Hogfather
