The Lidless Eye

Maybe it's the poet in me, but I love the Psalms.  And I think my very favorite is in the lectionary for Sunday, Psalm 139.  That's the one that starts:

O God, you have searched me and known me.
  You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from far away.

Maybe it's kind of funny that it's my favorite.  After all, that psalm kind of makes God sound like Sauron and his all-seeing Eye.  Or maybe Big Brother watching you.

Or this classic restroom prank!

But that's not how I read the 139th Psalm.  I actually find it comforting, not creepy!  For example, when I have the opportunity to pray with a group through the sharing of joys and concerns we frequently respond to each little prayer with words like, "God of Grace, hear our prayer."  When the people are done voicing their prayers out loud I like to end with this thought, "The Psalmist tells us that God knows what we are going to say before the words can even form on our tongue.  And so we know.  We know that God has heard our prayers, both those spoken out loud (or typed into Second Life chat) and those spoken in the silence of our hearts..."  I don't know about you, but I find that comforting.

But that's the pastoral perspective more than a geek perspective.

When I look at Psalm 139 as a geek, I'm struck by the idea of labels—of identity.  The word "geek" probably has Germanic roots, "geck" meaning "fool" or "freak."  The word eventually came to be synonymous with a certain kind of freak show act—one where people did insane things like bite the heads off of live animals.  (I don't condone that, by the way.)  I don't know how it came to mean somebody who loved something so much—be it comic books or video games, or the work of J.R.R. Tolkien—that they're considered socially retarded.

But the first person to watch someone wax poetic about the work of Jack Kirby and say, "What a geek!" can't have meant it as a compliment.

And despite the whole geek chic phenomenon, that pejorative still at the heart of what it means to be a geek.  I know I've quoted her before, but I still think that Felicia Day said it best:  

The substance of what it means to be a geek is essentially someone who’s brave enough to love something against judgment.  The heart of being a geek is a little bit of rejection.

So, what happens when it's you that people are comparing to the freak that can only make a living biting the heads off animals?  What happens when it's you that Julie Smith is accusing of being:

...a bright young man turned inward, poorly socialized, who felt so little kinship with his own planet that he routinely traveled to the ones invented by his favorite authors, who thought of that secret, dreamy place his computer took him to as cyberspace—somewhere exciting, a place more real than his own life, a land he could conquer, not a drab teenager's room in his parents' house.

The only positive thing you can do is stand up and define yourself as something worthwhile.  As someone who grew up Christian, I was able to do that by turning to scripture like Genesis 1:27 or Psalm 139 and define myself as created, declared good, and unconditionally loved by God.  So when I read this psalm, I didn't see Sauron or Big Brother.  It's more like reading that my best friend and biggest fan will always, always be there.  It's like hearing the truth of Fred Rodgers's ministry:  God loves you just the way you are.

That truth made it so much easier for me to do what every geek ends up doing.  You see that people are going to judge you for loving what you love.  And you love it anyway.  And then you stand up and say, "Yeah, I'm a geek.  And I'm proud of it.  And I don't care if you judge me for it."

God loves you just the way you are.
Be good to each other,
Rev. Josh
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