Hutchmoot, shaping, hello again Middle Earth

Once upon two weekends ago my dear friend Abbye Pates and I drove up to Nashville, TN, sadly leaving her husband Jeff behind in Memphis, to attend Hutchmoot. What the heck is Hutchmoot you say to me? Well, it's a gathering of rabbits. Or.. um... a meeting of people who read books that rabbits like, or a meeting of rabbit-people.

Well, it's a meeting of people who follow the Rabbit Room blog community, which is Andrew Peterson and friend's website (www.rabbitroom.com) that's named after the room at the Eagle and Child pub in Oxford, England where C.S. Lewis, Tolkien and the rest of their buddies met and discussed their creative work, sharing their lives and faith. Coincidentally, it is where Brian Mulder and I met one year ago this next week to kick off our European galavanting expedition. The shepherd's pie was delicious and I signed the guestbook, perhaps sitting where some of my literary heroes sat in that little pub.

So Abbye and I went to Nashville to immerse ourselves in Story and Song in an effort to grasp a vision for the Kingdom and what it means to live in it and help others find it by using the life and gifts God has given to us. It was a refreshing weekend and too short of one as well.

Walt Wangerin, Jr. was a keynote speaker. Have you heard of him? I read "The Book of the Dun Cow" earlier this Summer and was amazed. It's a beast fable that will surprise you with it's whimsy, intensity, and depth. I'm looking forward to reading the two follow-ups in the series. I should write a string of blogs based on reflections from his talk, but for now I will simply include my favorite quote. This quote drew in my focus to a sharp missional vision for life and art, for Kingdom living and Gospel Story communication. It was preceded by a story of a boy who, through an encounter with deep trauma, had become entirely dislocated due to the destruction of his world. The boy lost all sense of context and meaning for his life and slipped into a nearly comatose reality of despair and lovelessness. But Walt, as his pastor, surrounded the boy with stories of the True. Walt creatively rebuilt a world around this boy by telling the Bible story.

And we, who are poets, shapers, writers, crafters of many kinds, people- who at any and every point of life- express the truth of God's Story are, "for those who have no world, weaving the world around them".

Our lives and work are always creatively expressing this True Kingdom and the identity of the True King Jesus. We choose to live a contrasting story. We embody His righteousness, we incarnate the tale, we sing the songs of Zion in a foreign land. We shine light from an invisible sun.

I grew up reading "The Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien. I've read it four times. Immersing myself in that myth as a child prepared me to commit myself to faith in God's Kingdom that still sometimes feels like a myth when I find myself facing the veil of this world. As a child, Tolkien somehow helped me peek underneath that curtain, smell a scented river from another world, or feel a light in my heart that I knew had a source beyond this creation.

So last night I stepped into Middle Earth for the fifth time. I'm excited to go there. I'm excited to remember that "faith is being certain of what we do not see" and to search again as one who longs for his true home country with Jesus. I pray to lead a life that lifts the veil and invites others to enter into that true Kingdom too.

Tolkien and the power of Creativity

"The Christian still has to work, with mind as well as body, to suffer, hope, and die; but he may now percieve that all his bents and faculties have a purpose, which can be redeemed. So great is the bounty with which he has been treated that he may now, perhaps, fairly dare to guess that in Fantasy he may actually assist in the effoliation and multiple enrichment of creation. All tales may come true; and yet, at the last, redeemed, they may be as like and as unlike the forms that we give them as Man, finally redeemed, will be like and unlike the fallen that we know."
J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairie Stories

Verlyn Flieger in her book Splintered Light: Logos and Language in Tolkien's World goes on to say this:

"Both Tolkien and Barfield regarded the Word as the instrument of Creation and words as instruments of humanity's separation from God and from the universe...Both felt that the task of the poet was to bridge that separation, to use words to reconnect what they had severed. For each of them, words were to be poetic instruments of humankind's ultimate and conscious reunion with God." And again, "Poetry reinvests the world with meaning and rebuilds relationship with it." (pg 47-48)

In Tolkien's essay, these thoughts occur after his explanation that the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, that the Gospel itself is the ultimate case of a true myth. And that myth defines reality, calling us back to a time when the same God who called a dead messiah from a dark grave into the light of Easter morning, also spoke this creation into existence with the words, "Let there be light".

Could it be that God has always used something more akin to myth, poetry, song, and story to bring into realization his creation? For us, these things are considered the less concrete forms of expression. What if for God they are the most substantial means. What if the old stories of the Bible that sound so mythic are closer to reality than any literal language we could conjur? In other words, what if myth is actually more literal?

And finally, what if imagination and creativity are the doors through which we bring into reality a love so fantastic that it sounds like a fairy tale?