Monday, August 26, 2013

Thanks Be To God


When an Evangelical Christian attends a liturgical church, what he notices first about the worship service is that other people seem to know something one is supposed to say and when one ought to say it. The priest may be praying or a congregant reading scripture when suddenly the congregation just starts saying something or performing some motion at the same time.

The visitor may feel lost, confused and left out because he just doest know the dance. For some, it is a very unpleasant experience. He may leave the church muttering about “vain repetitions,” or “forms of Godliness without power,” and such. It may not dawn on him that his own familiar worship service is also full of corporate responses that others find off-putting; such as raising ones hands, responding “praise the Lord,” or “all the time” if the worship leader suddenly shouts out “God is Good.”

Every community has ritualized responses like these though. We salute the flag. We say the pledge of allegiance. We all shout “play ball” together after singing the national anthem. That is the way American community works. Similar kinds of communal responses emerge in every community, that is if it stays around long enough.

In the church, believers have traditionally said “thanks be to God” after the public reading of scripture. The practice goes back to an era when few churches (and even fewer individuals) had Bibles. Handwritten copies of the entire Bible were huge. They were also extremely extremely expensive. Even by the time our great-grandparents came around, Bibles were still massive and usually kept in one place.  So hearing the Bible read could be a moving experience. People needed a way to respond together.

Admittedly, people are not always, or even normally, filled with great joy when they go through the ritual of saying “thanks be to God” after the reading. They may not even be able to tell you what they just heard. For many, perhaps most, it is a learned repetition. It just means something like “well, that parts over; on to the next part.”

However, the meaning of any ritual is only offered, not forced upon those individuals who perform them. The hearer must determine if he really is grateful for the reading from God's Word or whether he even paid attention to it as it was read. We cannot know what occurs in our fellow believers when they mumble, “thanks be to God.” We can only determine what we mean when we say those words.

The other day, I was reading from the Rule of St, Benedict. Benedict said that if a troubled person or someone who just takes up our time interrupts our work, we should should take a moment before responding and say to ourselves, “thanks be to God.” Benedict’s point is that we must instruct our hearts to shift away from viewing the moment as an interruption. 

We must tell our hearts to view the moment as a potential visit from God.  A bearer of God’s image and likeness has suddenly appeared, perhaps in the guise of a child, or a mentally ill person, or simply a lonely pest.   

Benedict chose these words deliberately. He knew full well that the phrase, “thanks be to God, was what believers said after the reading scripture. He understood that for a premodern Christian, the reading of scripture was supposed to be treated like a tape recording of the prophets and apostles. So the people’s formal acknowledgement of that reading was an instruction to their own souls. It was a way to teach one's souls to honor the Word that had just come coming through the saints of God.

We must remember too that the liturgical readings of scripture were not designed to placate anyone’s taste in reading material. After hearing “the desert shall blossom as a rose,” we can enthusiastically say “thanks be to God.” However, when we hear a passage that ends with, “lest I come and strike the earth with a curse,” we also say “thanks be to God. When we hear the reader say “straight is the path and narrow is the gate that leads to eternal life,” we also respond “thanks be to God.”

Some scripture is not immediately uplifting or inspiring. Nonetheless, it is God who is speaking and we given Him thanks. 

Many of us in professional ministry are doubtlessly terribly important. We have much better things to do than meet with whiners, grumblers and time-wasters. We have books to write. We have sermons to
prepare. We have many earth shaking things to accomplish. We can’t do all these things if we pay close attention to everyone who emails us, phones us, or just walks into our office and starts to chat.

So what do we do?

Well, according to Benedict, we should say “thanks be to God.” And then he adds, “auscuta!” That means listen. Really listen. It’s the same word doctors use when paying careful attention to the someone’s heartbeat through a stethoscope. The doctor not only listens, he attends, he focuses upon, or, to use the medical term, he auscultates.

That great saint of the church, John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens as we are making plans.”

Behind the chat, the small talk, the jokes and the banter, a soul is trying to connect with another soul. A lonely heart is seeking to be heard. That is often a form of prayer because people sometimes want a God who wears some skin. That would be those of whom St. Paul said, "Christ in you the hope of glory." 

For those of us who grew up in communities that emphasized the gift of tongues, perhaps it is time to ask God for the gift of ears. 

Perhaps the word we await to come through some anointed, appointed and highly respected leader may come instead through a recovering drug addict, or even through a simple minded chatterbox.


Thanks be to God. Auscuta. 

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Fred Is Sleeping With Freda!

People are saying Fred is sleeping with Freda.

What's the church going to do about it?

People often say such things to pastors. When he hears them, he knows the implication is clear: a situation has become unbearable and it is his responsibility to straighten it out.

Unfortunately, he also knows that people's concern for holiness is usually selective. The type of person involved and activity in question has a lot to do with whether congregants think a sin is serious enough to require church discipline.

Church concerns fall into an unwritten hierarchy of seriousness. Sexual sins are more serious than slander, and actually more serious than nearly anything else. Partying is more serious than heresy. Grandstanding is worse than greed. And so on. 

Many things the Bible defines as sinful don't even show up on a church's radar. Those "lesser sins" seem more subjective, less clear, not to mention less interesting, than the obvious, in-your-face, “Fred is sleeping with Freda,” or the even more serious,  “Fred is sleeping with Billy Bob."


So these are the types of offenses that usually make their rounds in churches.

By the time the offending activity gets to the pastor's attention, the story has usually been circulating for days through the coffee shops, emails and phone calls. The energy has been swirling around the stories until the fury becomes a storm.

Sooner or later, someone decides to talk to the pastor, to see what's going on.

"Did you know Fred is sleeping with Freda? It's causing a ruckus. What are we going to do about it?"

Of course,  “what are We going to do about it,” nearly always means 'what are you, our pastor, going to do about it?"

If the pastor suggests that barging into a situation without first hand knowledge is not a good idea, he will likely be presented with all the evidence accumulated by the concerned congregants.

One person will insist, “ I saw such and such with my own eyes,” “or “my cousin Sally Mae, who never lies, was there when such and such occurred and she is amazed that our church could possibly condone such a thing, and there was a day when church leaders – well, I suppose we are just in a different time, sigh …”

However, if the pastor responds with something like, “O.K., I will to go with you to speak with the offending person. You can tell him (or her) what you just said to me,” the answer is nearly always some version of “Oh, no, my name can’t be used in this because my daughter is on the basketball team with his cousin and goodness knows that if it were known that I was the one who told you ...”

If the pastor still doesn’t act in a timely manner; won't "bring things out into the open" or "deal with the situation,"then the talk begins to shift from the original preoccupation with the offender to a concern with pastor's incompetence or lack of spirituality. It becomes obvious the pastor lacks conviction or courage, or something else vital to be a ‘real’ spiritual leader. 

The pressure is on at that point. There is not a pastor reading this that won't agree.

But here’s the deal. Church discipline is not the responsibility of a spiritual policeman. It is the work of a healer, a dispenser of grace and redemption. Healers don’t go on witch-hunts; they weep over the destructiveness of sin.  Church discipline is a discipleship tool, a spiritual formation process. It is not a mechanism to maintain the church’s self-image. Healthy Church discipline is meant to be therapeutic, not punitive. The Savior who was ‘not willing that any should perish,’ and who ‘came into the world not to condemn the world but that through Him all might be saved,’ is not interested in stoning sinners. He is interested in dispensing divine grace, which alone has the power to transform sinners into saints.

Furthermore, we should only offer church discipline to those who invite it. Otherwise, what passes for church discipline is really an unwelcomed intrusion into lives not yet open for intimate levels of spiritual care. Much damage results from that sort of spiritual trespassing and the seasoned Christian leader resists it.

The truth is, most church people have little interest in ever becoming a disciple. They want to be saved, to be sure. They want to enjoy a “relevant, moving, worship service that meets their needs.” They want to get married and buried in the church. But they are uninterested in Bible study, prayer, and other spiritual disciplines. They are especially uninterested in the type of spiritual formation that requires a real relationship with a seasoned spiritual leader. In fact, many church leaders, including pastors, are uninterested in either offering or receiving discipleship at those kinds of levels.

Given this state of affairs, what usually passes for ‘church discipline’ is actually a process to remove those situations and persons that cause personal distress for influential people. That is what we usually mean when we say that “the pastor ought to do something about that.’

Naturally, there are times when the congregation's safety, or unity requires action. Sometimes, we must help people separate from one another, so they won't cause each other further harm. Not all church divisions end up being unhealthy. In some cases, individuals heal and, after a time of separation, become ready to reconcile.  Time does not heal all wounds, but it does heal many. The story of Barnabas and Paul in the Book of Acts is an example of this.

Sometimes though, church people bully their pastors into becoming agents for their vindictiveness. If the bully is powerful enough, the pastor may comply, mostly to get some peace. But the cost to those affected by the resulting ‘church discipline’ can be extremely high. Furthermore, if the discipline imposed on offenders by the pastor does not lead to his or her redemption and restoration to the church fellowship, ‘church discipline’ becomes a form of spiritual abuse.

Most of the time, it is better not to act, even if the church people get agitated, than to act prematurely or without a desire and a plan for the offender’s ultimate redemption and reconciliation. Until there is a way to achieve these goals, pastors usually should wait, watch and pray.  This apparent pastoral inactivity may result in ‘good people’ getting upset, which is unpleasant for everyone. However, sometimes when a pastor forbears in this way, it helps those ‘good’ people become aware of their own sin.

Good people, who are certainly not ‘sleeping with Fred,’ want Fred's activity stopped, which is certainly reasonable. However, they are unaware of the deeper causes for their discomfort. They may not yet understand that the energy that motivates us to ‘deal with sin’ sometimes turns out not to be a concern for a struggling brother’s soul. Sometimes, it is simply a desire to remove an activity that provokes something yet unnamed and unacknowledged in the concerned Christian’s own soul.
 
Mature spiritual leaders weigh out these things. They make themselves purposefully deaf to the pleas of powerful people who call for his yet unreflected and premature judgment. Seasoned spiritual leaders know that much more is involved than meets the eye when fallen human beings, including the pastor himself incidentally, become highly motivated to ‘deal with’ the sins of others.  


The words of the apostle Paul remain as powerful as when he first wrote them and were written for the times we must deal with Fred:  “if any of you are overtaken by a fault, you who are spiritual restore such a one, in a spirit of meekness, considering yourself, lest you also be tempted.”

Thursday, August 22, 2013

What In the World Is a Peacemaker?


I took part in a public forum today that turned out to be a bit more public than what is normal (or even comfortable) for me.

First, I joined Governor Haslam, Senator Corker, former mayor Bill Purcell, CNN's David Brody and a few other key business and political leaders for lunch. Then, along with several hundred other people, I listened to Senator Corker made a foreign policy speech.

In his speech, Senator Corker referred several times to our church, and to the way we have been addressing the realities of globalization in the American heartland. That took me by surprise. So I thought I should explain to my church family why I attended this meeting, why I am affiliated with the U S Global Leadership Coalition, and what all that means.

It is fair to ask why a pastor would involve himself so openly with those who form our nation's foreign policy.  What realistic contribution can spiritual leaders hope to make to that process? How can a spiritual leader, however well intentioned, avoid getting pulled into the political rankling and horse trading we often assume goes along with this kind of political territory?

Because I have often asked myself such questions, I nearly declined the invitation to open today's meeting. Thankfully, I accepted it. I offered a few remarks about the importance of our country's global role in addressing poverty, disease and education. I prayed for God's blessing on our conversation. Then, over lunch, I enjoyed a pleasant conversation with some of our national leaders about these issues.

Like many of you, I am inclined to dismiss the importance of gatherings like these. It is easy for me to think, "what difference does my opinion make?"

As it turns out though, that attitude is immature. Our opinions actually matter a lot.

One of the leaders of the U S Global Leadership Collision remarked, "several of us have been watching how your church addresses the serious issues of our times. You offer clear and solid principles. Nonetheless, you do it in a way that invites further discussion from those who disagree. There are few examples of that approach now and we think you provide an example of how real conversations among people of differing positions occurs and becomes productive."

Well, thank God for that.

To the extent to which this is true though-- that we really have been addressing serious issues with a clear voice that nonetheless invites conversation -- is the extent to which we have heeded our Lord's words, "blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God."

"Peace maker," Jesus says.

He didn't say "peace keeper."

A peace keeper tries not to open his mouth; he tries to avoid taking a stand. A peace keeper puts his finger in his mouth, holds it up in the air to see which way the wind is blowing to find out what he is going to say. A peace keeper's only objective is to avoid conflict. So he will do whatever is required to do that.

A peacemaker, in contrast, does not avoid conflict at any cost.  He will fight if he must. He will even die defending his values. However, he does not seek to harm, diminish or belittle others. Even when the struggle for justice and truth becomes intense, he remembers that all human beings, including his opponents, are made in the image and likeness of God. He is fighting on the behalf of ideas. He is not fighting people.

Isn't that what St. Paul says, that "our war is not with human beings but with spiritual forces in high places?"

A peacemaker keeps this spiritual reality in mind. He seeks to show genuine respect to those who hold different opinions than he.

The U S Global Leadership Collision, of which I have been a participant, includes among its members every single previous American Secretary of State. It brings ranking members of both parties together for real conversation. Sometimes sparks fly.  Huge gaps can open up between their very different opinions. However, sometimes, these brilliant people solve problems precisely because they hold different opinions. Remaining engaged in conversation with those who hold different opinions, forces one to to look at a topic from another viewpoint than the one he normally holds. For this reason, real conversation with one's ideological opponents opens up the mind and heart in ways that conversation with one's ideological allies does not.

That's why I agreed to open the meeting today. I need the conversation as much as anyone else.

It is always an honor to discuss our local, state and international issues with governmental, business and academic leaders. I have learned to look compassionately at their challenging responsibilities. And, I believe, they try to open their heart to consider how their actions -- and their lack of action -- affects those who have little voice in the way the world is run.

My pastoral role is to keep leaders mindful of the human cost of their political and business decisions. However, it is also my role to understand that their problems are usually more complex and challenging than what it may appear in front of the television. When one is sitting on his couch eating pizza, blowing off steam to his brother-in-la, it may seem that global problems would be solved if only our leaders had enough common sense. But when we sit down with them face to face, and understand the weight of the responsibilities they shoulder, we realize that they need prayer and understanding, just like everyone else. Sometimes, our leaders also need a different perspective, from someone in a different line of work, but who will offer that different perspective with grace.

I want to be a peacemaker. Its just that  most of the time I don't think I can make much of a difference in the world. Then, on a day like today, I realize that some of our nation's leaders really do pay attention.

So, like the Bible says, don't forget to pray for those in authority. Don't rail against them. Don't participate in slander. And, when you have the opportunity, graciously offer your opinion.

You never know.

It might make a real difference.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

What Makes Classical Education Christian?


Somewhere in Rutherford County tonight is a little boy living in an apartment with his mother.

He already knows he is poor; that he is low class; and that he is destined for a life of menial labor. He will never know what the Gettysburg Address was about. He will not understand the phrase "to be or not to be," or anything of its original context. He will not comprehend why grown men tear up at the sound of Handel's Messiah. He will not know, or understand, or view as even relevant the words or deeds he may hear in passing from the likes of Voltaire, Jefferson, St. Augustine, Mahatma Gandhi, or John Calvin. 

This boy, this lost little boy, will use the technological toys he acquires through thrift or through theft to amuse himself -- to drag his mind into ever deeper levels of unawareness of this universe and its meaning.  He will not learn to budget his money. He will not learn to plan his life. He already believes himself to be a pawn of fate, tossed about by forces that seem to him incomprehensible and irresistible. He is a Stone Age child, about to be thrust into a world he will never understand and to which he will never relate.

This child will breathe air for seventy years or so. He will eat food. He will procreate. Then, he will die. He will do all these things without thought, without ever stopping to ponder the meaning of his own existence or the purpose of his own life.

The reason he is lost, the reason his future is so poor, so empty, so devoid of self-awareness, so bereft of any sense of rootedness in time or space is simple: no one will ever tell this child that he is an heir of a vast fortune, accumulated over countless centuries by his own ancestors on both sides of his family.

His mother is Greco-Roman Civilization. She offers him art, science, literature, philosophy and the political understanding she had gathered in her countless experiments building community. 

He Father is the Creator's revelation to ancient Hebrews. This father offers the boy eternal life, personal meaning, and the values and principles that have led multitudes to experience individual and communal flourishing.

The union of this mother and this father represent a fortune so massive that no one will ever fully access it or ever exhaust it.

If by chance, this little boy should ever encounter, through the life and words of some saintly person, the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, he will receive the unspeakable gift of eternal life. However, even then, he may bide his time through this vale of tears, waiting for his blissful eternal home, without awareness of the wealth contained in the Book of Books he carries devotedly under his arm. 

Oh, he may memorize a few verses from this book and repeat them occasionally at proper times and places. But these verses, however comforting, will be little more than clichés. Despite his devotion to the scriptures, he will not know how to access and apply the words of Solomon, Isaiah, Job, or St. Paul to his everyday life.

Although an heir to the vast wealth of Western Christian Civilization, this little boy will live and die within its borders without comprehending, or even noticing, the gifts of mind, heart and community it offers.

Classical Christian education is a formation of children in their own heritage; in the ways of this Christianized Greco-Roman life we call Western Civilization. It develops mature disciples of Jesus Christ and prepares them for citizenship. It gives students the keys to this storehouse of knowledge accumulated over the millennia.

The students to whom this gift is offered are first of all our own children and grandchildren.  For we know that despite any financial security and family stability we believe them to posses, it is possible for them to grow up ignorant of the values of life and mind that sustain those assets. We know that they may yet squander their lives and fortunes on plastic beads and things that glow in the dark. We know that if we teach them how to make a living without teaching them to live a life, their meaningless world will, sooner or later, become unbearable and then collapse.

For these reasons, Classical Christian education is not a brainwashing process. It is not a method to program young minds. It is a way of training students to think. It is an awakening of their minds. It is a discovery of their vocation. It is their preparation for living in community. It is the development of their bodies through a view of sportsmanship that defines athletics as not merely a form or recreation but a way to honor of the human body as the temple of the Holy Spirit.

In short: Classical Christian education is an acknowledgment of that core Judeo-Christian concept: that human beings are made in the image and the likeness of God.

Globalization forces us to notice other notable civilizations; the infinite wisdom of Asian cultures, for example. It also forces us to acknowledge other Christian civilizations. The heritage of Byzantine, Armenian or Coptic Christianity comes to mind. These other cultures contain insights any student should find fascinating and enlightening.

However, it is impossible to even care about other world cultures unless and until we are at home in our own; unless we are aware of what our culture asserts and offers the world.

Providence Christian Academy exists to make these things known to our children. This school insists that the sort of formation it offers is not meant to be the sole property of those relatively few people born into families already possessing a grasp of Western Civilization. This school does all it can to offer that gift to those not so privileged, including people like that little boy whose future appears so dark.

This school, however dedicated to the Classical heritage it embodies, is even more resolute in its desire to be faithful to the centerpiece of Western Civilization -- the Savior of humanity, whose values were probably never more succinctly stated than when he said, "come unto me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me ... learn of me ...

What our ancestors learned of Him produced our colleges, hospitals, art, philosophy, literature .. an entire civilization that although already in formation before he was born,before He was born, accepted His correction and His guidance to become a powerful source of human transformation.  

Thats what this school is about: bringing that lost little boy into the redeeming and transformative reach of this heritage of faith. That is what we mean by Classical Christian education.  It is, quite simply, the most important tool we have in our quest to protect and perpetuate the culture we have received, and which we so fervently wish to pass on to future generations.


This statement was given at Providence Christian Academys annual dinner for parents and teachers, hosted by Stone River Country Club in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, August 20, 2013.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Welcome to Groundhog Day

"We have entered a world without narrative."

That’s what Douglas Rushkoff said about his book, Present Shock.

In all fairness, I have not read it. Since people often misunderstand authors when they read a single sentence or concept out of context, I won’t pretend to know all he meant by that shocking phrase.

All I know is I found it. In fact, it brought tears to my eyes and a flash of grief to my heart.

By ‘narrative,’ Rushkoff means ‘an unfolding story.’ He means our historical way of thinking, writing, experiencing life and understanding the world. Narrative is a story. It has a beginning and an end. In between there is a plot, some characters, a few events, and various emotions.

Mr. Rushkoff says that the digital world is an eternal present. The past collapses into the present so that it is no longer even the past. Nor is there any sequence. One’s second grade friends magically reappear along side of one’s college roommate, his third cousins, work colleagues from previous jobs, and the in-laws of his in-laws. These all populate the same digital space as his present acquaintances, world without end. One's past self and present self merge into a single undifferentiated collage of images and eras. 

A world without narrative is the eternal now, and time shall be no more.

Well, how can one argue? Rushkoff is describing a new reality that is not so unpleasant. I, for one, rather like Facebook.

And, the digital world is indeed magical. 

When I was a boy, my family – including my cousins, great-grandparents and more distant relatives, were all within walking distance. The graves of our common ancestors from the last two hundred years were either up on the hill or a few miles up the mountain where even older graces were located.

My life’s journey took me away me from that village. For awhile, it disappeared as a living reality. Oh, still exists and I love to visit it.  It’s just that most of the voices I hear in my head as I walk its streets  are long gone. Few of the village’s present inhabitants even know this aging gentleman who walks so slowly in front of their house and keeps staring at an old apple tree.

But then, all of a sudden, the graves open! The ghosts reassemble, not on the streets of Chesapeake but on Facebook. I see images,  once closely guarded by a great-aunt in an old scrapbook but now available to everyone. Not only that. The descendants of these old relatives are just a few clicks away. Should I want to find them – and sometimes I do – they are close once more, thanks to the wonder of digital magic.

This is wonderful. It may even be ‘progress.’ That word, which means little more than ‘the next thing’ is what we have used to describe wonders like our new digital community. If progress means anything at all then surely the Internet represents progress. 

But wait a minute! 

Can I use a word like ‘progress’ in a world without narrative?

The word progress implies movement toward a goal – presumably a goal of some sort of human improvement.  However, without a shared story, or narrative, the word ‘progress’ loses what little meaning it had.

Rushkoff said that we have been living within a shared narrative for at least a thousand years. But surely he downplays the point. Where has civilization ever existed without narrative?

I have had the pleasure of living in Stone Age communities for extended periods of time. Those who lived in them already exist in an eternal present, a feat they accomplish without technology any more complicated than machetes. When the sun rises, they eat a piece of bread. Some of them wonder off to fish. Others dig for yucca. Yet others hunt for tabor and wild boar. At the end of the day, some return with something to eat. Others don’t. The community pools the food the lucky ones found.  It teases those who came back empty handed.

After eating, old people tell stories about ancestors and spirits that appear in their dreams.
Young people tell dirty jokes. Adolescent boys brag about their hunting skills to adolescent girls. After a while, the people all wonder off to find a place to sleep. The next day they get up and do all of this again.

It’s delightful until you have an appendicitis attack or need a root canal. Then you have to call a shaman to shake some bones over your belly and hope for the best.

Civilization begins with something like: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. And the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep.  Then God said …”

Civilization continually develops because of sentences like this: “and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, neither shall they learn of war any more.”

Those are Jewish and Christian sentences, of course. I might have used “the Tao that is named is not the eternal Tao,” but that is not my accustomed narrative.  That narrative creates another kind of community than mine. I can learn a lot from studying other narratives, but if there is no narrative, that one isn’t of much benefit.

Art, science, love and hate, war and peace, family and vocation – all these are the products of narrative. Indeed, personhood itself, which is the unfolding story I tell to myself about myself is the product of narrative.

So yes, I recognize my baby pictures and all the other images of the self I once was. In some sense, that self remains in me and with me. But a few things have happened since then. There has been an unfolding story since my beginning. I have had some character development, if you will.

When my old childhood friends call me by an old childhood nickname, it jars me for a moment. I am not offended, certainly. I am just surprised when someone from my past does not recognize, and in some cases refuse to recognize, my present reality or my developed personhood. They see me as I once was, frozen in time, undeveloped, unformed.

So I deny that one can experience an eternal now.  If one embraces a world without narrative, he is not living in an eternal present. He is just returning to Genesis one, to a world that is formless and void and in which darkness moves over the face of the deep.

That world, in which there is no narrative, is without meaning. It is a world of eternal ADD in which one’s attention continually flitters from gnats to bees without sufficient reason to investigate their strange anatomy, their place in the cosmos, or their relation to human life. There is no science, art, philosophy, or theology in a world without narrative. There is not anything much more significant than a continual search for food, sex and sleep.

In short: a world without narrative is an uncivilized march into a world without form, without purpose, and without any compelling reason to live.


One might call it hell. Or, to borrow from Bill Murray's narrative, we could call it Groundhog Day!