Advent, Sci-Fi, and Safe Spaces 12.2.16


  1. That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis. George Orwell critiqued this work for its non-scientific reality, admonishing Lewis for attempting to widen the sci-fi genre. But Orwell critiques exactly what makes Lewis’s work so…well…Lewis. The heavens break through all too often, disrupting the scientific view of material reality. The faerie world keeps appearing, though the characters are facing a technological revolution. It’s sci-fi meets fairy tale, but Lewis pulls it off. Not interested yet? It’s also an updated Arthurian legend–Merlin and all!
  2. Living the Christian Year by Bobby Gross. Advent is fully upon us, and for those of us who didn’t grow up aware of the liturgical calendar, Gross’s guide to the Christian year is indispensable. Gross structures the book around three periods of the year: The Cycle of Light, the Cycle of Life, and the Cycle of Love. Each section contains historical information on each season and is followed by a weekly reading plan. Though I’m often reading The Divine Hours by Phyllis Tickle, Gross’s book is helpful when it comes to particular seasons.
  3. This article from CiRCE. “Safe spaces” has been such a debated phrase, especially during the election, and especially when it comes to students. Some take the idea too far, while others have no respect for the spiritual turmoil that many people are going through–election or not. But this article points out the shallowness of safe spaces, and how the church provides sanctuary and healing.img_2873
  4. What I’m Really Reading Today: I’m writing a paper on modernity according to Edwin Muir and T.S. Eliot. Why those two? They both write about tradition, time, and  myth. Oh, and Eliot said that Muir was the best English poet of his day. This is my first exposure to Muir’s poetry–here’s a taste:


That was the day they killed the Son of God

On a squat hill-top by Jerusalem. 

Zion was bare, her children from their maze

Sucked by the demon curiosity 

Clean through the gates. The very halt and blind 

Had somehow got themselves up to the hill. 

-From “The Killing” by Edwin Muir

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