Homage to a Hero

Yesterday, one of my favorite writers passed away: Madeleine L'Engle. Writing in the tradition of George MacDonald, C. S. Lewis, and J. R. R. Tolkien, she skillfully was able to weave Christian truth into her creative children's fantasies, influencing generations of young people.

I first encountered her in sixth grade when we had to read "A Wrinkle in Time" in Mrs. Gargano's reading class. Not only was I struck by her imagination, but also the fact that she quoted the Bible and referred to Jesus as the ultimate light who defeats "The Black Thing." After reading that book, my cousin and I actually started to write a few "fantasy novels" of our own...but don't look for them at Border's anytime soon!!

Like the Harry Potter series today, her books were often maligned by "reactionary" elements in the Church who did not approve of the "pagan imagery" included. In spite of this, she touched the lives of millions of young people (and even older people). I frequently have gone back to her books, just to be reminded of yet another writer who "baptized my imagination."

Just a few years ago, I found yet another book that she wrote: "Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art." I encourage all of you to read it; it has some great insights that could speak to our postmodern generation. Below are a couple quotes from that book that really stuck with me:

"Stories are in no way an evasion of life, but a way of living life creatively instead of fearfully."

"To paint a picture or to write a story or to compose a song is an incarnational activity. The artist is a servant who is willing to be a birthgiver."

"We all tend to make zealous judgments, and thereby close ourselves off from revelation. If we feel that we already know something in its totality, then we fail to keep our ears and eyes open to that which may expand or even change that which we so zealously think we know."

"There is nothing so secular that it cannot be made sacred, and that is one of the deepest messages of the Incarnation."

"We look into outer space, and because we cannot see a God we can touch, a God we can comprehend with our rational intellects, we invent new gods to take His place, all the little gods of technocracy, little gods who have eyes and see not, ears and hear not, hands and touch not, and who have nothing to say to us in the times of our deepest need."

"I do not understand this death, but I am learning to trust it. Only through this death can come the glory of resurrerction...It is not easy to think of any kind of death as a gift, but it is prefigured for us in the mighty acts of Creation and Incarnation; in Crucifixion and Resurrection. You are my helper and redeemer; make no long tarrying, O my God."

Madeleine L'Engle, 1918-2007

Symphony of Triumph

The following is a piece I wrote a few years back, which my friend, colleague, and former roommate Jeff Vanderhoff always reminds me of, so I figured I'd post it here. It reflects my love for two things: Our Triune God, and classical music. Enjoy! We are all part of a great Symphony, which the Composer skillfully conceived at the beginning of time: Some of us are the Melody, our loud voices ringing out with the Message of the Music... Some are Countermelody, adding movement and variety, and enhancing the Melody with our bold originality... Some of us are the Bass Line, not outspoken or original but steadfast and supportive, without which the Melody would have no stability... All of us, playing our respective parts, make the Symphony a triumph. The Symphony is full of tension and struggle, but in the Composer's wisdom and design, the moments of tension always lead to a resolution of joy, while the most difficult sections are also those which challenge our abilities and make us better musicians. As we play our parts in the Symphony, there are three things we must always consider: We must strive to glorify the Composer by adhering faithfully to the Musical Score, and not glorify ourselves by adding prideful improvisation, for the less we deviate from the Score, the more the Audience will be convicted of its meaning... With the guidance of the Sound Man, we must strive to blend our parts harmoniously, that our performance may be a true reflection of the Composer's art... Finally, and most importantly, we must fix our eyes on the Conductor, who--with His nail-pierced hands--directs all of us to follow Him. The Symphony continues, and as we turn the pages to new and increasingly complex movements in the Score, we must be confident in this: One day, all the members of the Audience--whether they want to or not--will give the Composer a kneeling ovation. The Conductor will embrace each one of us warmly and say, "Well done!" And the Composer, sitting in the Balcony, will wipe the tears of joy away from His eyes as He declares once again that His Masterpiece is very good.