Month: July 2019

Redeeming Stranger Things

Redeeming Stranger Things

I’ll admit, I haven’t always been aboard the Stranger Things hype train.

I even wondered once or twice if the wildly popular series might have made a better T-Shirt than a TV show.

Think about it. A shirt—or perhaps a line of posters—could retain the brilliant casting and the flawless 80s aesthetic without the occasionally-dragging plotline, the silly monster, and tired trope of alternate dimensions. (I mean, come on, you’re telling me there could be a secret but successful Russian plot to utilize technology and undermine US stability by releasing a “monster” that cares only for himself while reeking societal destruction. That couldn’t happen.)

Note: I had thought that.

But the final episode of Season 3 redeemed the show for me.

One reason is that Peter Gabriel’s version of “Heroes” is perhaps the greatest “soundtrack song” of all time. (Fight me.)

But that wasn’t the only one.

Alongside classics like The Goonies and The Sandlot, the most compelling theme of Stranger Things is the possibility of redemptive friendship in a communion of misfits.

This comes across most memorably when Dustin (played by Gaten Matarazzo) sings a nervous, then progressively more jubilant, duet with his ham radio girlfriend, Suzie. The Neverending Story never seemed so fantastic.

And then there is the heart-wrenching final scene that explores one of the most painful and universally memorable of childhood experiences: a best friend moving away.

I’ll never forget my own daughter Penelope—with jagged bangs she cut with mommy’s scissors—running toward me sobbing because it was the first day after Christmas break, and she had learned (in front of the whole class) that her best friend, Lila, had moved to a different school. “I didn’t even get to tell her bye!!!” she sobbed.

If that doesn’t break your heart, then you’re as soulless as that gelatinous monster in the TV show.

Stranger Things taps into that feeling.

“We few, we happy few”—we band of misfits.

That’s one aspect of what the church is supposed to be: a “peculiar people” (1 Pet 2:9), not (please note) because we act genuinely crazy in a breathless conformity to Cable News and Talk Radio paranoia—but because real holiness and sacrificial love will always be “strange things” in a culture obsessed with image and abdominal muscles (like Billy, the pool hunk).

To that point, another virtue of the season finale is the way even Billy is humanized and drawn into the communion of misfits through the conduit of past pain and present forgiveness. A lesson here is that even “cool kids” feel like oddballs, even as they scoff at Dustin, El, and their ragtag gang.

To try to “fix” this peculiarity of the church is an obsession within some segments of evangelicalism (see here). And there are sometimes good reasons for it. “Weirdness,” after all, is not always a virtue. But in other cases, the attempt to excise peculiarity from God’s people has made us less like Jesus and more like the poolside housewives who gaze longingly at Billy as he strides–bronzly, and behind his mustache–to his lifeguard chair.

I heard a youth pastor say once that his church focused “primarily” on reaching the cool kids (prom queens, quarterbacks, “Billy”), because the less cool kids would then invariably “follow” after them.

It may have seemed like good “strategy,” but it was the opposite of what Jesus did.

Christ’s model was more about redeeming the “strange things” (fishermen and former prostitutes), and then pulling “Billy” into this alternate (Kingdom) dimension through the conduit of sacrificial love and unconditional forgiveness.

Stranger Things, for all its faults, gives a glimpse of that dynamic: the communion of saints as the communion of misfits (communio sanctorum as communio peculiare).

So I take back my initial “hot take” about it being better as a T-shirt.

(But mark my word: the monster is still stupid.)

 

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How do I approach time management?

How do I approach time management?

A former student asked me if I’d write a post about how I manage time successfully.

Answer: I don’t always.

And writing a “How to” on the topic is like writing a book about prayer. No one does it without a sense of hypocrisy.

Still, here are a few things I try to do:

1. Don’t spill things on the laptop.

I did that last week. Much time was lost. Also, half my screen is currently cloaked in a dark haze. Maranatha.

2. Get up early, even when you don’t have to.

I rarely work late. But I do get up early (5:45am), regardless of whether it is “Summer Break” or not. It’s amazing how much one can accomplish when few people are awake to interrupt you, and when the coffee flows like rushing river in a repetitive early 2000s worship chorus.

My early wakeup is bookended by an equally geriatric bedtime (9:05pm). Though in my experience, very little “time management” happens after that anyway.

3. Avoid unnecessary meetings.

Like the plague. This is a touchy one because it’s not always possible, and it can prevent one from “climbing the ladder” in certain settings.

But if you are trying to make the most of your time, unnecessary meetings are Dementors that will suck your soul and leave you wondering why a single, carefully-worded email would not have sufficed. Not all meetings are like that, but some are.

4. Reading before Netflix

Since a fair amount of my work (writing, preaching, teaching) benefits from time spent reading, I bookend my morning research (usually theology) with evening fiction or biographies. This summer that has involved some Steinbeck, Alan Jacobs, C. S. Lewis, and Cormac McCarthy (Blood Meridian [#yikes]).

If I do writing before bed, I can’t sleep. I just rehash it all night long in a kind of editorial fever dream. But reading fiction for about 45 minutes before switching to Netflix helps redeem the evening time. It makes me a better writer; and it’s fun — unless I’m reading Blood Meridian.

5. Sabbath

When I moved to Boston for Seminary, I didn’t know a single person. And as an over-achieving firstborn, I felt like the best way to maximize productivity and stave off loneliness was to work seven days a week and in the evenings too.

(Fun fact: I also had mono, so you can guess how well that turned out.)

The next year, Brianna moved closer, and I started taking evenings and Sundays off. In short, I took a Sabbath. One might think this made me less productive, but it actually did the opposite. My grades were better. My mood was better. My soul was healthier. And (after a tonsillectomy) my mono finally left the building.

Sabbath: It’s almost, like, a commandment.

6. Name your non-negotiables

There are only so many hours in a day. And on many occasions that means that something on my “to do” list isn’t going to get done. The question is just which “something” that will be.

I have a few non-negotiables that will happen regardless of Hell or high water: (1) Early morning time in Scripture; (2) at least some time writing and researching every weekday; (3) evenings with family; (4) four to five workouts per week with my buddies (if I’m in town).

This blog isn’t on that list. Nor is Netflix. Nor is time spent reformatting a New Testament lecture that I’ve given twenty-seven times.

Some of my non-negotiables may seem odd since they have nothing to do with my job requirements. I am not required to publish. Nor am I required to workout or spend evenings with family. But those things matter; they make me feel alive; and that enables me to do the stuff I don’t like nearly as much.

Your non-negotiables will be different. But it’s helpful to “name” and “claim” them (~Kenneth Copeland).

7. Figure out what can be done on “Empty” and what must be done on “Full.”

The cerebral frontal cortex is expensive to operate. That’s the part of the brain that controls much of our higher cognitive skills, emotional expression, problem solving, memory, and language. And it takes a lot of energy to run well. Mine starts shutting down around noon (see Point #2).

That means that I need to save activities that I can do “on Empty” for the afternoon, while reserving activities that require more “cerebral bandwidth” for when I’m full (i.e., full of caffeine). Sermons must be written on “Full”—so too with books and any creative activities. Grading, answering emails, dish-washing and (oddly) workouts can be done on “Empty.”

In fact, doing the workouts on “Empty” often has the surprising effect of making me feel “Full” again when I head home to be with the kids.

CONCLUSION

There are a hundred other things that could be added to such a list. But I’m probably not very good at those. And I’m out of time.

 

Interested in understanding the Big Story of the Bible? Check out my new book: “Long Story Short: the Bible in Six Simple Movements,” available with Videoteachings to help church small groups.

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