Second Breakfast

I’m in a mostly-black church, and we’re starting to sing gospel hymns. I pick up the hymnal and I know it is going to be unfamiliar, and I can’t find the hymn I’m looking for, so I give up and just start singing along. We’re walking around the sanctuary singing, and I see a pile of little books of published sermons in the corner with ornate cover frontispieces that tell me that the church I’m in is in Ypsilanti, MI. Everyone is friendly and I feel welcome despite the fact that I’m in an unfamiliar place among strangers.

The song we’re singing is a 1-4-5-1 gospel number, and the leaders who are singing the verses are mostly white people, who are singing about the evils of racism. The chorus (I could still sing it when I woke up, but as the morning has progressed I’ve forgotten it), went either “A-li-bah-mah” or “A-li-ham-brah”. The former is of course a southern state, the latter is either a bluegrass band, a Moorish fortress in southern Spain, or a city in Northern California.

I awoke, singing.

This is the second time I have read Pullman’s “His Dark Materials” trilogy. I picked it up a few years ago at the prompting of a scholarly friend of mine who was trying to find adult folks who had read, what they thought of it, and what they thought it meant. I enjoyed them as good fantastic and children’s literature (and a good adventure story), but boy I can’t say I entirely got what Pullman was getting at with this Victorian yarn involving an alternate world where humans have animal/daemon companions (an extension of the soul?), adults who behave abominably toward children, talking warrior-bears, magical “Dust” falling from space which is imbued with all sorts of meaning, and great deal of metaphysics.
What prompted to to re-read “The Golden Compass” this time is that New Line Cinema has made it into a film set for release this December (website, IMDB). Based on the previews and stills, this looks to be a visually beautiful adaptation of this book, and should be exciting to watch.

But even after a second re-reading, I still don’t feel like I quite understand what Pullman is doing. The Lyra protagonist character is interesting and sympathetic, and she thrives despite being ignored by and used as a pawn in a complex game played by her mother and father. What’s most interesting I think about the book is Pullman’s creative use of langauge as a means of establishing the “alternate” feeling of his world, which is much like ours in geography and peoples, but different in some important ways that is revealed as the story unfolds. He does do a good job of treating his intended young readers as intelligent people, so there is no special exposition except for a one-sentence introduction, and it takes a little patience initially to figure out what is going on and why.

But underlying this whole story is a big set of questions about good and evil, God and humanity, and the relationships between all of them. And after reading the three books the first time, I can’t say I really recall feeling like I knew what Pullman was getting at. Hopefully this time ’round I’ll be clever enough to appreciate it.

I kid you not.

www.mormonsexposed.com

Mostly Safe for Work

From Dave Walker, a wonderful cartoonist and blogger in the UK:

“The thing about evangelism is this: People can spot it a mile off and they run a mile (so they generally end up two miles from it, depending upon the relative speeds of the evangelism and their running). I have found that evangelism is probably the least effective form of evangelism. If you want to communicate your faith to someone else the best way to do it is not to try.”

This is the second of Feiler’s books I’ve read which follows his journeys to the middle east and the stomping grounds of the Old Testament.  Feiler’s quest is both personal and journalistic, and the result is as much a story of transformation and encounter with the stories and characters of the Bible as it is an exploration of those historical places today, the people who live there now, and the deep connections they have to the land and the stories that shape their history and identity.

I found the strongest moments of the book to be those centered in the Sinai, particularly Jebel Musa (Mount Moses), aka Mount Sinai.  These are places that most of us will never have the opportunity to ever visit, and Feiler is an effective guide.

These books are also an accessible way to become more familiar with the stories of the Old Testament, and in beginning to understand their connection and relevance to our contemporary world.