This year I have read more fiction than normal (when I completed my first fiction book this year it was one more than I read last year). At the beginning of this year I decided that I was going to begin reading a lot of fiction. That it was going to become part of my normal diet of reading. I read an enormous amount, but my diet of reading is more comparable to a fad diet where you completely cut out major food groups (i.e. the Atkins diet--no carbs, my reading diet--no fiction). Several things made me start to think about the deficiencies in my reading diet. First, I realized that my interaction with authors is typically very black and white, logical, and to most people boring. The books I read contain mainly propositions, but not stories. I "understand" concepts, but sometimes don't "feel" them. I'll get to this later. Second, I realized that stories are an important part of our world. Stories shape our world and have the power to make it beautiful or ugly. Poor stories have been the real power behind the awful and powerful armies throughout history. Good stories have led to hope, redemption, and freedom. My fiction-deficient diet leads me to sometimes be a story-deficient preacher. Finally, as I was buying some books on Amazon one day I realized that the books I typically buy and read are listed way, way, way, down the line in Amazon sales rankings (typically ranging from #9,000 to 60,000+). In other words, I'm typically reading and thinking about stuff that no one else is reading and thinking about, with the exception of other theologically-driven pastors and church planters like myself. These reasons, and a few more, led me to decide I would add fiction into my reading diet.
In step with my personality, not one to wade into the water, I jumped head first into a thousand page novel called The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet. It was an excellent read and just what I needed to capture my attention and help me plunge into my new commitment to reading good stories. Since that time, I've read several other books that were good in their own sense, but none of them were like Khaled Hosseini's bestselling book The Kite Runner. It stands alone.
I read the first couple of chapters a month or two ago. I was very busy at the time and couldn't see myself getting into it and so I put it down until two days ago. Starting over from the beginning I found myself free from distraction and desirous to find out why everyone made such a big deal about this book. Once I started I could not stop reading. Once I finished I could not stop crying.
My tears were tears for humanity. My tears were tears for a broken world. As I cried, I prayed, "Lord, how long will you be? How long before you will restore your creation and make all things new?" Above I said that the books I read typically help me to "understand" concepts, but often times I don't "feel" them. The Kite Runner left me feeling. I just finished preaching a series in my church in which we looked at many different themes related to new creation. For several weeks I thought about whether or not I really long for new creation, whether I really long for the return of Jesus. You see it is very easy as an American to not spend too much time thinking about new creation. After all, compared to the rest of the world we live in what seems a garden paradise. Sitting in our air conditioned homes with our cold water, hot coffee, reclining chairs, ceiling fans, dead bolts, dvd players, soft beds, clean clothes, refrigerators, microwaves, etc., etc., we have little left to desire. For most of us, daily suffering is not a reality. The thought of a new creation is typically a nice thought for me, but it does not burn deep inside of me as it should. It does not call out tears and prayers before the One who will restore.
I hate, HATE, knowing what happens in a movie or in a book. I will therefore not spoil it for you. But to give you a little background, Amazon says:
The Kite Runner follows the story of Amir, the privileged son of a wealthy businessman in Kabul, and Hassan, the son of Amir's father's servant. As children in the relatively stable Afghanistan of the early 1970s, the boys are inseparable. They spend idyllic days running kites and telling stories of mystical places and powerful warriors until an unspeakable event changes the nature of their relationship forever, and eventually cements their bond in ways neither boy could have ever predicted. Even after Amir and his father flee to America, Amir remains haunted by his cowardly actions and disloyalty. In part, it is these demons and the sometimes impossible quest for forgiveness that bring him back to his war-torn native land after it comes under Taliban rule. ("...I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.")
This book not only made me think about, but also feel, forgiveness, shame, grace, deceit, truth, guilt, redemption, love, hope, peace, violence, abuse, desire, joy, kindness, unconditional, courage, cowardice, loyalty, sadness, honesty, frailty, power, powerlessness; I guess to summarize, it made me feel human. Not American, not even Christian, just human. In my own life, I have never even remotely experienced anything like the characters of this book, however I share the experience of humanity. I am a long way removed from the lives of those who live in Afghanistan. Even further removed from the fictitious characters of this book. I am not, however, far removed from humanity. I, like those living in Kabul, am one who has been created in the image of God. I share with them, and the rest of humanity, the capacity to love, hope, and forgive. Furthermore, as a Christian I am commanded to love, hope, and forgive. I often times fail miserably at these commands. But I am comforted in the fact that there is one who succeeded where I fail. Jesus' life and death is the story that makes sense of the other stories.
If it were not for the story of Jesus, I would have finished reading The Kite Runner and then sat in my living room weeping over the despair of the world and the sad condition of man. I would have looked at my children and felt so helpless, so hopeless. I would have grieved that I had been born into this world in which there is so much pain and suffering. I'm sure that many people finished reading this book and did just that. Because of Jesus, I wept differently. I wept in prayer. I wept as I prayed for the despair of the world and the sad condition of man. I wept as I prayed for my children...with such hope. I am not grieved that I was born into this world of pain and suffering. I grieve over the pain and suffering, but I know there is one who was more grieved than me. One whose grief led him to sweat drops of blood. One whose grief led him to take the pain and suffering of the world upon himself. One who's once occupied, but now empty tomb declares that pain and suffering do not get the last word. Death is swallowed up in life. Evil is overcome by good. Because of him, because of Jesus, I prayed as I wept.
There is hope for a broken world. Not in tanks and bombs, but in love and forgiveness. There is hope in a story. A story that is called good news.
As I finished reading one magnificent story I wept. As I considered another breathtaking story I prayed. I recommend them both.
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