First, before I get my main thesis, I’d like to thank everyone at the Roanoke Public Library in Roanoke, Indiana, for having me give a lecture on fantasy writing last Thursday. It was a small crowd (stupid weather!), but it was fun. I’d love to come back, especially if you have room for one more lecturer.
Since I spent a fair amount of time preparing the lecture and I’m sure some people didn’t come but wanted to, I’m going to expand it a bit and make it into a multi-part series for my vlog, “But I Digress….” Expect the first video soon!
Anyway, as I was going to say…
A few weeks ago, I got involved in a short but heated discussion between a friend and her sister (they shall remain nameless) on Facebook. My friend had posted a photo of an angel someone made of snow. Being that we’re both Whovians (“Doctor Who” fans), I commented, “Don’t blink!” (This was a reference to the nefarious Weeping Angels). My friend then went on about how they were also the evil Snowmen from another episode, so you couldn’t look at them or blink. Her sister then commented, saying she looked at the photo and blinked and nothing happened. At first, I thought she was being sarcastic, but I realized she wasn’t. The sister then said she didn’t understand how anyone could be “obsessed” with fictional things like this when real life had more to offer. My friend, myself, and one other person tried to explain things to her. Since I came into the discussion later, I just posted this quotation from my friend “Jack”:
When I hit adolescence, I started getting the feeling that kids my age didn’t watch things like cartoons. That was the age one “outgrew” them. We were supposed to do better things with our time…like chase the opposite sex in a hormone-crazed frenzy and read books like Twilight (how is that book more mature than cartoons?). But guess what? I kept watching the cartoons I thought were good. In secret. Yes, I was embarrassed that I enjoyed watching shows “Beast Wars,” “Spider-Man,” and “Batman: The Animated Series.” I wanted to be seen as mature and grown-up, at least in public. I spent most of teenage years living this quasi-double life. I was quite a serious lad at the time. It took college to lighten me up.
Now I make no secret that I enjoy cartoons, comic books, and other “childish” forms of entertainment. Seriously, look at my video collection:
Part of that is the nostalgia craze that’s been going on for over a decade, which has made these things more acceptable. But there are still those who would look at this and say, “These shouldn’t be on a grown man’s shelf.” They’d cite 1 Corinthian 13:11 as evidence that such a person was immature.
But here’s the truth: only children worry about being perceived as grown-up. Many children at one point or another wished they were adults. They worry about what people will think of them if they “act childish.” With age, however, comes the attitude that what people think doesn’t matter, and the wisdom that true maturity comes from how one treats others and his responsibilities.
Yes, people read comics, watch “Doctor Who,” and play video games as an escape. They’re called “escapist entertainment” for a reason. It’s a stress relief because life is often hard. The problem is when one lets it become an addiction, a source of one’s self-worth. I’ve seen this happen. It’s sad. But anything, no matter how good it is, can become an addiction. There’s a difference between someone who has an occasional sip of wine and an alcoholic.
There’s also something to be said about cultivating an imagination. People who are imaginative see things like nobody else. They invent, they create. Ideas are their playthings. Without people like them, we wouldn’t have technology, culture, and philosophies. Heck, I keep hearing stories about how much of the tech seen in “Star Trek” and its spin-offs keeps inspiring real gadgets!
Art enriches our lives. It illustrates truths. It provides a lens that puts life into perspective. It expresses things we might have trouble articulating (hence why most couples have a favorite love song). We see ourselves in all our beauty and ugliness. It gives us ideals to strive for. It expresses our deepest longings.
In other words, it helps us figure out life. And life then in turn enriches art. The two need each other like a husband needs a wife, and vice versa. Without it, there would be no color to life. We would be robots.
Most importantly, art is an expression of being God’s image bearers. God created the universe. It isn’t purely functional. It’s full of color and wonder and adventure. I drove through Pennsylvania and Maryland a few months ago and was blown away by the rolling hills, mountains, and multicolored leaves. I grew up in house that was constantly surrounded by mischievous animals. And need I mention the wonder of the night sky? God is an artist.
Think about that next time you want to criticize someone for being an “out-of-touch child” just because he made his own lightsaber.
