There is a fifth dimension...

In the post “1407 Graymalkin Lane,” I wrote extensively about one of the reasons I love Silver Lake—namely that it was one of my primary sanctuaries growing up and continues to be a sanctuary for me even today.  And because it is and was a safe place for me, Silver Lake is one of the places I have had the best opportunities to dig into my own theology.  Besides which, it’s where I met my wife and where I was married, so naturally it’s just going to come up every once in a while!

My wife and I have spent several years leading a creative writing conference for high school age youth entitled “The Written Word.”  Unfortunately, The Written Word has run its course—at least as a summer conference—and to be honest I’m kind of mourning its passing.  Like all good Christians, though, I live in the hope of the Resurrection, so who knows?  Maybe The Written Word will ride again someday.  For now, though, I’d like to share at least one of the theological underpinnings of the conference, because I find it especially useful to my geek theology.

The idea, basically, is that we were all made in God’s image.  And one of the ways we were all made in God’s image is that we are ourselves creative.  And so if we pay attention to our creations, we can find echoes of God’s image in them—even if we didn't intend for them to be there!  I used to say “we can find God’s image in them,” but theology is a living, breathing, growing thing and now I think that it’s important to note that our creations, while important and good, are signs—symbols of a truth, not the truth itself.

So why is the idea that echoes of God’s image can be found in our creations important to my understanding of geek theology?  Well, it’s the interpretive lens that causes me to think of Mark 13:1-2 when I watch the trailer for Fallout 3.  It’s why I can immediately think of baptism when I hear Metallica’s “Until It Sleeps.”  Or the plight of post-modern mainline Christianity in an episode of Kitchen Nightmares!  One of the many things that defines us as geeks is our unabashed love of certain forms and genres of storytelling.  I’m a video game geek (or gamer), a sci-fi geek, a fantasy geek, an rpg geek (confusingly, also “gamer”), and so on.  You can see why it feels foundational to identify echoes of the divine in our stories, then, right?

By the way, sometimes I know exactly where I first came into contact with a concept that had a profound impact on my own theology, and this is one of them.  It all goes back to Little Peggy March.  I know, I know, she’s before my time but she fits pretty squarely into the kind of music my father listens to—
What’s that?  You don’t know Little Peggy March?  I think maybe you do.  She recorded a song entitled “I Will Follow Him.”  I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be a romantic peace, but it was most famously covered in the film Sister Act.  There was something about that moment where I realized that the “him” in a love song could refer to God that was a major epiphany for me.  How about you?



Be good to each other,
Rev. Josh
021113

Sue Richards Meets Jane Goodall

When I first started tossing around the idea of this blog, I ran it by a couple of internet communities—my own personal Facebook friends (a bunch of whom self-identify as geeks—go figure) and an online support group for UCC clergy in the 20's and 30's.  One of the most frequent responses I got to the idea was, "What kind of geek?"  People wanted to know if I meant gamers, or computer hackers, or just people who think science is awfully cool.  (One fine wit pointed out that anyone excited about theology might be considered a geek.  Touché.)  And my answer was "yes."  By which I mean to say that I think there are probably enough things common to all of those kinds of experiences of geekdom that a geek theology ought to be able to draw from all of them.  So stand back, I'm going to try... SCIENCE!  Which of course means an experiment.  Please watch the video below and follow the instructions:



How did you do?  I knew what was going to happen the first time I watched the video, and I still almost missed it.  But don't worry about it too much if you found yourself blinded.  According to the research Daniel Simons and Christoper Chabris, fully half of us would not see what was right in front of our faces.  That's right, half.  And what's more, we all believe that we're perceptive enough to catch something that... blatant.  Only half of us would be right.

According to a recent NPR story, researcher Trafton Drew did a similar study with a group of people who are rigorously trained to see stuff—radiologists.  According to NPR:

He took a picture of a man in a gorilla suit shaking his fist, and he superimposed that image on a series of slides that radiologists typically look at when they're searching for cancer. He then asked a bunch of radiologists to review the slides of lungs for cancerous nodules. He wanted to see if they would notice a gorilla the size of a matchbook glaring angrily at them from inside the slide. 

But they didn't: 83 percent of the radiologists missed it, Drew says.

So what does any of this have to do with theology?  Well, I'd say to be wary of anyone that claims to know with absolute certainty the "right" interpretation of the Bible or, worse yet, the will of God for your life.  After all, invisible gorillas exist.  Which leads me into another theological point—Jesus said to not judge each other.  If we really take to heart the fact that we have invisible gorillas, maybe we can be a little more forgiving when other people reveal their own blindness.  And finally, there's the conclusion that Trafton Drew came to in his research, "...what we're thinking about — what we're focused on — filters the world around us so aggressively that it literally shapes what we see."  If we're looking for sinners and degenerates, that's what we'll find.  If we're looking for overbearing Christian hypocrites, that's what we'll see.  If we're looking for the image of God in each other, well...  you get the picture.

Maybe you aren't convinced.  Maybe you want another chance at it, just to prove to yourself (or your neighbor) that you aren't that oblivious.  Well okie dokie.  Here's your second chance:



See what I mean?  I knew something was up and I was completely taken by this one.

Beware of invisible gorillas,
Rev. Josh
021213

PS  If you're feeling kind of down about that last one, don't worry about it, we're in good company.  People who study how our minds work get caught by this, too...