Tara, I so appreciate your thoughtfulness. I like the way you pull in literature to illustrate your point. These three elements are an interesting idea to consider, particularly in light of current trends I see in Christian conversations to focus particularly on embodiment and what we experience in our bodies. *Makes a note to check my bookshelf for the Abolition of Man.* Several years ago, the Bible Project came out with a word study series on the Shema, highlighting what each word - heart, soul, and strength meant in its ancient Hebrew context. It has deepened my understanding and appreciation of these words. Also, my 10-year-old is currently reading, “Perelandra” so I’m sure, “That Hideous Strength” is in our future. Keep bringing the beautiful conversations, my friend.
I love this conversation. If my dad and I read Fahrenheit together right now, we'd come back with polar opposite conclusions of what it might be speaking to our world today, but I do always try to remind myself that he cares deeply too. We just have different viewpoints and different ideas of how that care should be manifested.
Totally! I think it's hardest when the people we think we should agree with and don't are the people closest to us. Remembering that there are still important values that we share has got to be a starting point.
It’s so interesting the way these thoughts are connecting through dystopian fiction for you. I’m currently reading Parable of the Talents by Octavia Butler and making (what I think are) very similar connections. I’m noticing how, against the stark dystopian setting, ideology recedes to the background, and the questions that matter run along the lines of “will you keep watch while I sleep? Will you plant and harvest potatoes with me? Will you watch over these children? Will you bury our dead with ceremony?”—all different ways of asking “is human life sacred to you?” And while ideology recedes into the background, when someone is committed to the false comfort of a lie (through religious escapism or fanaticism, for example) they are unsafe—either unreliable or liable to betrayal and violence.
I guess it’s highlighting how ideology can be a starting place (we all come to this moment with thoughts, with prior formation) or an ending place (being enclosed within a lie). The difference is really a matter of character—of love, if you will—which can be really hard to tease out when our nervous systems are so highly attuned to ideology. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to get at: it’s hard to recognize love in the current climate, but against the stark dystopian setting of Butler’s novels recognizing and investing in love is essential to survival.
I’m thankful for this discussion sis. It’s a difficult one to have and tends to teeter on the uncomfortable edge of giving in or grasping with my cold dead hands. Somewhere in the middle is best but also so much work. I know that I tend to err on the ambivalent side under the guise of being “understanding”. It’s not a constant but catch myself there. Ambivalent is its own ditch that I fall in. Thanks for bringing challenge to light in this conversation.
In other news… a couple of dystopian novels I’ve loved and which have brought up major conversations are the Knife of Never Letting Go series and The Last Cuentista.
The actual disagreeing and how we have those conversations is where it gets really tricky, isn't it? I started writing this newsletter with a much more ambitious goal, but ended up landing on this - the idea that there is something we share, something we agree on. It's super basic, but we have to start there. Moving forward I want to wade into more complex things, but it's going to get tricky. I'll appreciate your input.
I've never read either - and tbh I'm a little maxed out on dystopia right now, but I'll keep those two in the queue!
Tara, I so appreciate your thoughtfulness. I like the way you pull in literature to illustrate your point. These three elements are an interesting idea to consider, particularly in light of current trends I see in Christian conversations to focus particularly on embodiment and what we experience in our bodies. *Makes a note to check my bookshelf for the Abolition of Man.* Several years ago, the Bible Project came out with a word study series on the Shema, highlighting what each word - heart, soul, and strength meant in its ancient Hebrew context. It has deepened my understanding and appreciation of these words. Also, my 10-year-old is currently reading, “Perelandra” so I’m sure, “That Hideous Strength” is in our future. Keep bringing the beautiful conversations, my friend.
I love this conversation. If my dad and I read Fahrenheit together right now, we'd come back with polar opposite conclusions of what it might be speaking to our world today, but I do always try to remind myself that he cares deeply too. We just have different viewpoints and different ideas of how that care should be manifested.
Totally! I think it's hardest when the people we think we should agree with and don't are the people closest to us. Remembering that there are still important values that we share has got to be a starting point.
It’s so interesting the way these thoughts are connecting through dystopian fiction for you. I’m currently reading Parable of the Talents by Octavia Butler and making (what I think are) very similar connections. I’m noticing how, against the stark dystopian setting, ideology recedes to the background, and the questions that matter run along the lines of “will you keep watch while I sleep? Will you plant and harvest potatoes with me? Will you watch over these children? Will you bury our dead with ceremony?”—all different ways of asking “is human life sacred to you?” And while ideology recedes into the background, when someone is committed to the false comfort of a lie (through religious escapism or fanaticism, for example) they are unsafe—either unreliable or liable to betrayal and violence.
I guess it’s highlighting how ideology can be a starting place (we all come to this moment with thoughts, with prior formation) or an ending place (being enclosed within a lie). The difference is really a matter of character—of love, if you will—which can be really hard to tease out when our nervous systems are so highly attuned to ideology. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to get at: it’s hard to recognize love in the current climate, but against the stark dystopian setting of Butler’s novels recognizing and investing in love is essential to survival.
I’m thankful for this discussion sis. It’s a difficult one to have and tends to teeter on the uncomfortable edge of giving in or grasping with my cold dead hands. Somewhere in the middle is best but also so much work. I know that I tend to err on the ambivalent side under the guise of being “understanding”. It’s not a constant but catch myself there. Ambivalent is its own ditch that I fall in. Thanks for bringing challenge to light in this conversation.
In other news… a couple of dystopian novels I’ve loved and which have brought up major conversations are the Knife of Never Letting Go series and The Last Cuentista.
The actual disagreeing and how we have those conversations is where it gets really tricky, isn't it? I started writing this newsletter with a much more ambitious goal, but ended up landing on this - the idea that there is something we share, something we agree on. It's super basic, but we have to start there. Moving forward I want to wade into more complex things, but it's going to get tricky. I'll appreciate your input.
I've never read either - and tbh I'm a little maxed out on dystopia right now, but I'll keep those two in the queue!