I know that it has been a while since I’ve written. For a while, I’m pausing here. Why? Do I owe an explanation? If I’ve taken the time to write, and you’ve taken the time to read and write back then the answer is yes. I do owe an explanation. TIme. Time is the explanation. We all have the same amount of it. No one is more busy than any one else. We just spend our allotments of time differently. For a season of almost two years, this blog was a wise use of time as I poured my heart out to a friend and opened my mind to those with whom I disagreed. Honestly, in some areas – – I’ve been convinced. If time is a zero sum game, and I argue that it is, what was I missing? The pages of my paper journal are sparse. My academic productivity has waned. And I’ve read many new books and learned new things that may take me several years to absorb. One revelation of this blog to me was my own personality and just how strong my trait of introversion is. I think that I need about a thousand pages and a thousand miles to think in the best way I know how – – prayer during long journal entries and long runs. Will I return and share some of those thoughts and prayers? I hope so. I don’t want my solitude to be selfishness, but for now I ask your leave to enter the solitude that has never left me lonely. Russell may continue to write here in my absence if he chooses. There are several other competent and compassionate interlocutors both here and elsewhere. In fact, Mrs. Pascal and I are looking forward to dinner with two of them on Sunday night.
Thank you for joining this season in my life. I pray blessings on this season in yours. I have learned so much more about skeptics and atheists. Two things are most important – – I know that I love them and I know that the time spent listening was well spent. I’ll see you later – – here or elsewhere.
The great moral leaders throughout time have sought a narrative that could drive humanity one step closer to compassion and connectedness — one step further from the divisiveness and pain that comes from focusing too much on ourselves. What follows is one of the most profound short stories I’ve ever read. It contains parts of a philosophy that I’ve tried to adopt, and one that I hope you will also consider if you haven’t already.
By: Andy Weir (author of the book that led to the recent movie blockbuster, “The Martian”)
*****************
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
*****************
That’s where the story ends, but there are several adaptations which you can watch on YouTube. Here’s one…
I may not be able to convince myself enough in the veracity of the Bible to use its lessons as the central foundation for morality, but I can take the good where I find it. While there’s no evidence that Andy Weir’s short story is true (we probably aren’t collectively a budding God and we probably aren’t reincarnations of each other), I find great moral wisdom in its central message. It harmonizes with my belief that there’s no justification for being certain that we would be any different from our enemies if we were born as they were.
If we could believe that our neighbors literally might be, in some real sense, ourselves (and they could because we could have been born as them) — that would help us struggle against those naturally selfish tendencies to forcefully promote our desires and opinions over theirs. It would make the call to “love our neighbors as ourselves” both more obvious to secularists and more attainable for everyone. Collectively, such a fast-track to genuinely caring about our friends and our enemies would change the world.
Every person you can think of is a person, like you are. We share hopes, joys, fears and pains. If you could master the art of seeing your interlocutors as literally yourself (with the exception of a few circumstances outside of your control), would your words change? Mine often would.
I’ve cc:ed you on my open letter to Dr. Robert Jeffress, pastor of First Baptist Church Dallas, Texas. For point of reference, I’m responding to his sermon here:
Dear Dr. Jeffress,
My name is Pascal and I am a follower of Christ. I have done so since I was a child, trained by imperfect but godly parents who loved me and taught me to to love scripture. I had not heard your name or seen your face before you chose to address the world in the guise of addressing your congregation. My first impression was that you must be a Republican politician. Red tie. Dark suit. Dour expression with forced smiles. When I searched your name, most posts were from Fox News. First impressions can be illuminating. Malcolm Gladwell would call it a blink. That was type 1 thinking – – a heuristic reflex that recoiled and said – – this man is a Pharisee. In this open letter, let me return to type 2 and carefully respond to what you carelessly constructed.
“As Christians we follow the Bible. We follow the New Testament specifically. You cannot find a verse anywhere in the New Testament that commands us to kill unbelievers.” Jeffress, above: 1:50-
Your polemic was actually very short on the scripture that I love. Let’s go to that scripture to evaluate your words. First:
Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. James 3:1
Jesus’ brother James is talking to both of us. We both teach. You teach the scripture as a vocation and presumably well for you were called to teach at a powerful church in one of America’s largest cities. By posting on YouTube you are teaching more people than could ever crowd that building and reaching those who would never darken its doors. What about scripture? What does scripture say about itself? Second:
All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness,so that the servant of Godmay be thoroughly equipped for every good work. 2 Timothy 3:16-17
Your assertion that Christians follow the New Testament specifically is constructed in a way that dismisses the Old Testament. As a debater, I understand why you did it. The Old Testament is rife with verses that say exactly what you assert the Qu’ran says. As a believer, I must remind you that our whole story of redemption – – creation, fall, chosen tribe to bless the earth, saviour and much of what we learn about government comes from the Hebrew scriptures – – our Old Testament. Paul, who wrote the precious verses to his young pastor mentee Timothy above, loved scripture and said that it was useful. Christians follow all of scripture. What is scripture useful for? It is useful for one thing I’ve honestly never used it for before – – rebuking error, even from a pastor-politician.
You said that God does not intend man to live without borders and that securing borders is the God-given priority of government. Be careful. Using God’s name in vain does not only mean swearing. It means speaking for him without sufficient study and respect. A false prophet uses God’s name in vain. In support of your argument you quoted this:
From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. Acts 17:26
Paul was speaking in Athens on Mars Hill to believers in all current faiths, including those who believed in no God. To read the words in context belies your thesis. What does scripture say that God intends for the people of the world?
After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. Rev 7:9
At the outset of your speech, a version of which I expect to see at the Republican National Convention for which you were auditioning, Christ-following was constrained – – even reduced – – to the New Testament. False. Scripture rebukes you. That allowed you to conclude that Donald Trump was right. Shame on you. What does scripture say about refugees and immigrants? Again and again – – it says this:
When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God. Lev 19:33-34
I realize your position. You are an elder. I recognize that scripture warns me to take accusations against an elder very seriously and to do so only in the presence of other mature believers. That is why this letter is as open as the video that you posted.
You are wrong. You have misrepresented scripture and handled it poorly. You have used your pulpit for politics. Change. Bring back the prophecy of truth telling, not punditry. Go back to the full counsel of scripture. Repent (turn around) and pray for God to humble your heart. He will if you ask. I’ve been there and he’s forgiven me of my foolish pride too.
Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved,a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth. 2 Tim 2:15
A brief companion to yesterday’s reflection on how a family must sometimes fight to preserve itself and maintain integrity. Families also don’t leave. They don’t stop when members do painful things. They love deeply, especially in the context of disagreement and disappointment. That is not acquiescence to wrong. It is the decision to love someone even if her opinion is wrong. It is the decision to love when you just can’t like. It is patient and kind, neither envying nor boasting. It is not arrogant, rude, irritable or resentful. It rejoices in truth, not wrongdoing. It does not insist on its own way. It bears, believes, hopes and endures and never ends. This is the love of a family in a fight and it is so damn hard.
By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:35
Even when you’re wrong family, I love you and will not leave.
This won’t be long or profound. There is no image I borrowed to entice you. It is only a heartfelt response to the last week and the people I love – – my family. My family is now nuclear after the passing of my mother this year preceded six years ago by my father’s death. One wife and three sons. My older brother and I are not close at all. My sister and I love and respect each other, but are not entwined, let alone enmeshed.
This family is the family of Christ.
I call myself a follower of Christ rather than a Christian for reasons that are apparent to any who have tried to unpack the baggage of the latter term. I want to follow the example of Christ as a man, and I acknowledge the divinity of Christ as the firstborn over creation. Perhaps that is the litmus test for a Christian. Is Christ divine? ‘No’ or ‘I don’t know’ are legitimate answers held with integrity by those I consider friends. But, for orientation, my answer is ‘yes’ and now is not the time to argue why. It does, however, identify me as part of the family of Christianity in at least the primary color of its enormous spectrum.
If you’d like to read this post by Russell’s wife, it gets very close to my heart on this. If you choose not to read, I’ll summarize the thesis: she is confused and disappointed by Christians who don’t welcome Syrian refugees or Muslim refugees in general. Further: those who don’t welcome Muslims, or [insert other human here] confuse and disappoint her.
Do I, a member of the family of Christ, share her disappointment?
I do. Deeply so. It is like the disappointment I felt when I first discovered why Southern Baptists were so named. It was like the disappointment that stained my subconscious even after the apology twenty years ago for that evil stance on slavery and racism. How could that be prospectively tolerated 170 years ago then willfully maintained for 150 years? Didn’t my family read the scripture? Didn’t my family think? Didn’t we argue? It was like the disappointment I felt after learning that Martin Luther was a rabid anti-Semite. I thought Jesus was Jewish. What did I miss? How could such a brilliant theologian have such a hateful blind spot?
So, here’s the thing about a family. We will confuse and disappoint each other. We will hold diametrically opposing views at times ensuring that one of us is wrong. I’ve certainly been on the wrong side of many arguments. On this one, I’ll stick to an anchor of scripture:
He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8
Why would a follower of Christ cast out the refugee? Why would the follower of Christ not welcome a fellow creature of God? Why would the follower of Christ fear death from a bullet or a bomb? I just don’t get it. Isn’t this life to be lived to his glory with gratitude and the next life to be eagerly anticipated?
I love you family – – but you are wrong. The brothers and sisters who want to love, want to accept, want to understand will need to disagree and even fight within the family to keep the family together. Are we not light? It doesn’t feel like it now.
There is a problem in all of us. For every in-group, there is an out-group. We are each rejected by many people in some way and we likely reject others whether or not we know it, just by the nature of the identities we adhere to. Neuroscience shows that each of us subconsciously values some groups of people more and others less in some ways. The problem is, when we don’t learn about this and take real and regular action to fight against that tendency, it can lead us to dehumanize others. Unchecked it very often leads many of us to devalue some groups of humans so much that the moral laws we normally follow regarding how we treat other humans no longer apply. One key weapon that exacerbates this is propaganda. In this time of terrorism and racial divide, we all need to be vigilant. We need to examine ourselves every day with every news article, Facebook post, Tweet, comment from a friend or family member, political debate and media report. Each bit of information that comes in has the ability to shift the needle of our heart away from the humanity of a group that isn’t our own. When this goes unchecked long enough, we believe the lie that “they” aren’t as valuable as “us.” Then… death.
I’m going to ask you do something. Please, watch this video. It starts slow, but it is so good and relevant to the recent events that I’m willing to beg you to engage with these ideas. If it helps even one person realize that we’re all capable of dehumanizing and withholding normal morality towards other groups, and you and I are not exempt to this – I’ll gladly beg. Please, watch it.
That was just a clip that wasn’t very explanatory of the video. Please see the full episode called “Why Do I Need You?“ from David Eagleman’s series on PBS called The Brain.
I’m not writing about this solely because of the deep sorrow we now feel about what happened in Paris. A friend recently posted these links along with the statement, “It is estimated that around 100 people, many being innocent men, women, and children, die in Syria EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. What happened in France is tragic. So is the murder of ANY human.” Here’s the death toll count and a wikipedia article about the casualties. This is about human nature. And I don’t mean to universalize it. It’s about my nature. It’s about your nature. We each need to understand how you and I work and how to combat the things about us humans that lead to suffering – in us and those around us. I’m working on it as well. It’s about raising the bell curve, and we can only do that collectively – as a collective of individuals.
Compassion fatigue. That’s a term my wife used last night and I love it on so many levels. But for some groups, the phrase falls short of the deep bias that we don’t see because so many of our neighbors share it. I’ve heard about the “blue eyes–brown eyes experiment” from the video several times before and found it extremely useful for helping people visualize the injustice and irrationality of prejudice. In today’s racially divided world full of terrorism, I think we all need to consider what it means and find a way to convey that meaning to others.
I, like many of you, am now seen by some others as a terrorist. It doesn’t matter that, in my case, my “atheism” isn’t a belief that no God exists. I much prefer weak agnostic weak atheist possibilian, with a big focus on the possibilian part. Technically, I’m as much of a theist as an atheist since much of the time I think some causal prior intelligence is as likely as no prior intelligence. Some moments I think it’s even more likely. Just owning the atheist label has marked many of us, as most labels do, with a misrepresentation of our actual views.
The last thing I want to do is write about events of suffering and pain and death. When I experience activation of the pain matrix (see the video for what the means), I’m not drawn to writing about it. I usually suffer in silence. If it’s about the loss or pain of another that I cannot affect, I want to hug my children and my wife. I want to hit the pavement, the trail, or the gym. I want to spend time in quiet contemplation, identifying and grieving with the families, those suffering in the hospital, and the families of those who caused such devastation, and yes I even offer up prayers. Where I’m drawn though, is to the terrorists themselves. Always to them. I don’t know if this is normal and I understand that many will disagree. I did not lose my child to the actions of a terrorist, so I cannot possible imagine how I would feel or judge those who default to hatred. I only know that my heart gravitates to those who are committing or have committed the atrocities. Christians may find themselves unconsciously whispering, “There but for the grace of God go I.” I identify with the notion I’ve repeated many times on this blog.
We should be both humble and allow some uncertainty in our ideas about the universe and God because statistically some of our ideas must be false, especially some closely held ones since those are, on average, the least objectively examined ones.
We cannot know for certain that – if we were born in someone else’s environment with their DNA (neither of which any of us have any control over) and shared their exact experiences – that we would be any different from them.
These are both relevant to everything I write on this blog as they are central to my philosophy and why I respect those who disagree. Part of my goal is to illuminate the first point (1) so that all cultures can exercise some caution and expand their understanding of the flawed reasoning that plagues us all (cognitive biases and logical fallacies).
The second point (2) is an explanation for why I respect all people, even when I do not share their conclusions or opinions. They are me. I am you. I’m not saying that things are completely deterministic. Quantum uncertainty affects some percentage of our decisions in some ways, but we are still bound up in our DNA and experiences. Everyone’s beliefs are rational and justified to them at the time. There’s another level at we each judge another’s beliefs or actions, and we form groups and collectively judge them. That is necessary for societies to function and we all understand it. The point in this post is to explain that I, personally, may disagree with you but I don’t judge your beliefs too harshly, because I can see myself in your actions and in your beliefs. I did not choose to be me and not to be you when I was born. Can you offer me the same courtesy and recognize that you could have been me? Can you do the same for the victims? My father once said that there is a fine line between being willing to die for a belief and being willing to kill for one. Can you see yourself in the beliefs and actions of terrorists, were your birth in accordance with theirs? Can you love them? And not because you feel God commands it, but because you identify with them as a human. Not a sub-human. A person… just like you.
I am certainly not advocating that we justify their actions. Because I understand someone does not mean I lay down my objections to the consequences of the beliefs and actions they impose on others. Nor would I want you do allow me to trample another. But we all already know how to hate, and rage, and seek death, and prosecute, and yearn for revenge. I know of few who will benefit from a post encourage such a response to the perpetrators of violence. That’s built into being human. I do believe we need to fight against the ideology that leads to terrorism, but terrorism is just one example of those on the other side of the bell curve. The best way to do it may not be involve being completely devoid of understanding and compassion for those engaged in the extremist beliefs (potential terrorist are one example). This post isn’t about how to hate jihadists (if you aren’t one) because that’s natural. It’s about the part we don’t often see through the rage – the subtly shifting compass needle of compassion that eventually prevents us from caring about those whose views we see as extreme.
I’ll be picking up Radical: My Journey Out Of Islamist Extremism to help me understand the culture that creates beliefs that would lead to terrorism. I think if we’re serious about loving others who disagree with us then beginning to identify with the hardest-to-relate-to will move us a long way in that direction. Things like – certainty that God calls you to some beliefs and actions towards other groups, witnessing genocide of your people caused by these “other” groups, belief of a reward in the afterlife for certain faith and actions, continual “anti-other-group” propaganda poured into you from your in-group throughout life – these things and more continually reinforce that belief that the “other” group is sub-human. We could be them. I hope they can look at you and see the same of you. They may hate you, but if they only knew they could be you, and that you have reasons for you beliefs that make sense to you, if only they’d take the time to get to know you.
I disagree with terrorists, but I respect them as people just like I respect you. I don’t want them to dehumanize me, and I want to be careful not to dehumanize them. For the sake of our shared existence, and our shared humanity, I pray for them. If there’s a God listening, perhaps it may help on some level. But ultimately, I pray because it helps me synchronize my heart with theirs. Wars, and the fear of them, will rob us of our humanity as we blow past compassion fatigue and into red hatred. Our only hope is to actively and intellectually carve off the calluses that our nature secretly encases around our heart. Cling to the message of Jesus, or Buddha or the scientific rationality that our similarities outnumber or differences. Let us build on those similarities. Maybe, in time, as we try to understand one another, our similarities will diffuse the power of the ideologies that lead to human-human suffering and death.
Conclusion
As we dehumanize others, we dehumanize ourselves, but we also dehumanize a version of us that we could have easily been (and in some real sense, a version of you that is). We are all biased against other groups in our subconscious. We can only prevent that bias from growing and resulting in dehumanization by consciously fighting against it through attempting to understand those with whom with differ. That’s the point of 1 and 2 above and the recent posts on raising the bell curve. David Eagleman’s video is immensely useful in understanding the complexities we’re talking about.
As a final effort to let this resound, I want to share a story with you that, if it were believe to be true by a society, would lead to the most moral behavior of any society I can imagine. It’s like the Veil of Ignorance but with narrative and a compelling call that echoes for long after the end of the story. It was written by Andy Weir who wrote the very excellent book that just became a blockbuster movie, The Martian…
Please read The Egg and let me know if it moves you. I may put the full contents of that story in a future post.
I had intended to post on stewardship this morning and was thinking about the structure of the post and the planned alliteration before falling asleep last night. I awoke to the morning solitude, strong coffee, an open journal and the internet newspaper.
Again. Terror again. Violence directed at the unarmed and uninvolved. Violence without warning, without defense. Violence by those wanting to die – – a locally uncounterable strategy. And those who started a normal day weep. And those loved ones lost. And I just can’t write about stewardship or even the punchline – – time.
I grieve with you, those who suffer the sudden loss of love now fully recognized. I grieve with you, those in physical pain and mental shock in Paris hospitals. I grieve with you friends and families at the bedsides I have so frequently attended feeling – – helpless.
Dare I grieve for the misguided, angry and evil young men who convinced themselves that this was for God’s glory? Dare I grieve for the mothers of these men and wonder if this was their aspiration? Dare I grieve for those who hold their faith as preciously as I hold mine and see themselves disdainfully numbered amongst the criminally insane? I dare.
Dear God – – I know these few sentences will be a thin slice of what is aching in my heart. Please comfort the broken. Please heal the hurt. Please walk amongst us with compassion and join our suffering as you did in Jesus Christ. Please forgive these most despicable of our enemies and give us the courage to follow your lead. Thank you for being there and for caring when we hurt too much to breathe.
A short post on a long book? The graphic by Minard above is hanging in my study. I first saw it in consultation with our hospital’s statistician. He described it as the best information graphic ever. I purchased the inexpensive print in an Edward Tufte conference on the graphical display of information that my oldest and I attended together 5 years ago. Hobby Lobby did the rest.
The graphic depicts Napoleon’s march to and retreat from Moscow in the War of 1812. And that was the extent of my knowledge until reading Leo Tolstoy’s War & Peace. Like a visit to Israel, reading and reflecting on this book takes time. Tolstoy has fascinated me since I read that his apologetic influenced but did not convince Gandhi. I took Oprah’s advice to read Anna Karenina and found my favorite opening line ever, an explanation for my upbringing, and a hope for my children and grandchildren:
All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way
Like so many of you, my history and future is an amalgam of the clauses of this brilliant sentence. I found that Anna Karenina was a profound portrait of humanity and I found in Levin a man I could admire and even emulate in his pursuit of authentic faith. So, when the the itch to read War & Peace arose, I was ready to scratch. I listened to the story from Audible, just less than 1 hour a day with occasional splurges on the way to the airport. It took a quarter of a year.
And here I am – – done. I wrote the topics that Tolstoy approached in my journal and I’d like to share them here soon. It is astonishing. Calculus, astronomy, medicine, literature, theology, history, philosophy and so much more. The characters, at least 20 major, became friends or even worthy opponents. And here I am – – done. As the Texas Winter begins I can’t help but feel let down. Finishing an amazing book leaves me wistful. Will my life ever be apportioned with the time and knowledge to write like that, even read like that in more than borrowed minutes?
Consider this an introduction if you will. I missed you in the blog and hoped that writing about reading would help get me off dead center. May I ask?
Do you enjoy long books?
Do you feel a let down when they are done?
Have you read Tolstoy?
What were you surprised to learn in War & Peace?
Pascal – – 1:16
photo credit: Charles Joseph Minard’s work, hanging in my study
Dear Russell & Friends,
russell & pascal 