Civic holidays like the one that commemorates Martin Luther King Jr.’s Birthday provide an opportunity for me to reflect on what I think about the big stories we (U.S. citizens) tell about our nation, and how my views have changed as I’ve aged and the world has evolved. I find myself increasingly aggrieved by how significant portions of my faith community choose to interpret the significance of Dr. King’s legacy, and whether it does or doesn’t influence our mass voting behavior.

As a child of late 20th century U.S. schooling (both public and parochial), when taught about Dr. King and his legacy the artifact of choice was typically his ‘I Have a Dream’ speech and the March on Washington it accompanied. The speech and event were framed as one additional wrung on the ladder of the U.S.’s inevitable ascent towards liberty.

As I got older Letter from a Birmingham Jail took a place of greater prominence. Having spent most of my life participating in predominately white, conservative Christian communities, it wasn’t until college that I was awakened to the many complications and half-truths found in the K-12 narrative I was taught about U.S. history. The letter’s pointed message towards white moderates (like myself) remains an important and bracing critique.

Now, I’ve entered a stage of life where my civic/public consciousness has me turning more frequently to King’s Mountaintop speech. The speech’s charismatic (pentacostal) prophetic edge, and dogged determination to hold the U.S. to our highest stated ideals feels particularly relevant in an era when Federal policy is defined by cruelty and antagonism towards the most vulnerable members of our social fabric. The speech spends time reflecting on the parable of the Good Samaritan, with a small excerpt here:

And so the first question that the Levite asked was, “If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?” But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?”

That’s the question before you tonight.

I remain committed to practicing the faith (and still hold many of the doctrinal markers) engendered by my upbringing in evangelical Christianity. To our collective shame, many of my fellow white Evangelicals remain the bedrock supporters of a Federal administration that sees an increasing number of its citizens, other residents, and sojourners as threats to be neutralized rather than people who deserve to be treated with the equality demanded by our laws. I was told growing up that character is destiny when it comes to political leadership, and to see this principle abandoned for political expediency leaves a bitter aftertaste I can’t fully rinse out. I (perhaps naively) still believe the character axiom was basically correct.

May the parable of the Good Samaritan and the public witness of Believers like Dr. King–in partnership with the Holy Spirit–work like seeds sown into the hearts of my fellow evangelicals. I pray they not walk the same path as the Pharoahs in the book of Exodus and instead stop their hearts from hardening further.

Find a key excerpt of the Mountaintop speech here:

YouTube Video

Find the full speech here:

YouTube Video

My family has maintained a relationship to Chicago’s Brown Line.

For the years that we lived in central Illinois my parents would periodically take my sister and I to the city for a day or weekend excursion. Ostensibly we were there to visit my grandmother in Bridgeport (a Red Line stop) or my cousins in the suburbs, but we would also find an excuse to take the bikes down to the lakefront for a ride from the Adler Planetarium to the Lincoln Park zoo, or a jaunt up and down lake shore drive. We’d also ride the El. We’d take the Brown Line to Sedgwick and eat at the Old Jerusalem Restaurant.

When I lived in Wheaton I’d keep up the pattern and find excuses to take the Brown Line to Old Town or Lincoln Park. My future spouse lived not far from the Diversey stop for a time.

The CTA maintains a playlist of ‘Ride the Rails’ videos. The production values have improved incrementally over time. I find it comforting to pull one up and ride along for a couple stops. The familiar “doors closing” cadence and the click-clack of the tracks acts a bit like a breathe prayer. The Brown Line remains my favorite.

The artistic director of this film would go on to lead artistic direction for the first Ghost in the Shell film. I wouldn’t call it’s aesthetic vision cyberpunk though. I’d propose something else, like cassettepunk, or maybe CosmodromePunk. I think a lot of the videos this YT channel makes could fall into that aesthetic.

YouTube Video

The Pitt is the first TV show where the reaction videos are more intriguing to me than the drama of the show itself. Maybe its just the anti-science cultural moment we seem to be living through right now, but there is something mesmerizing about watching what I presume to be subject matter experts break down the difference between drama and reality featured in the show.

I’m sure some of the reaction videos are just algorithm chasing, but for now I’ll lean into them and hope we haven’t become socially isolated by our media echo chambers that we can no longer accept expertise as a valuable resource for policymaking.

Side-note: television programming rarely makes me cry, but a particular scene from the show where the main protagonist starts having PTSD related flashbacks to COVID era ER memories momentarily broke me. Our understanding of what happened that first year of COVID has become so obscured by our partisan bickering over public health policy that I feel like we completely forgot the absolute hell our medical providers were subjected to not only by the wave of deaths, but the politicized backlash they received for their efforts to flatten the curve.

The Andor series dropped a season 2 trailer announcing an April 22 release date.

Instead of posting the new trailer, I’m just gonna post one of the many moments of writing that made this show a revelation:

I fear for you.

We’ve been sleeping.

We’ve had each other and Ferrix, our work, our days.

We had each other, and they left us alone.

We kept the trade lanes open, and they left us alone.

We took their money and ignored them. We kept their engines turning and the moment they pulled away we forgot them.

Because we had each other.

We had Ferrix.

But we were sleeping. I’ve been sleeping. I’ve been turning away from a truth I’ve wanted not to face.

There is a wound that won’t heal at the center of the galaxy.

There is a darkness like rust, reaching into everything around us.

We let it grow and now it’s here. It’s here and it’s not visiting anymore.

It want’s to stay.

The Empire is a disease that thrives in darkness. It is never more alive than when we sleep…

Having grown up in evangelical/quasi-fundamentalist spaces I have always been a bit of a sucker for high production value efforts to articulate the Gospel or Christian life. This particular stream of the Way of Jesus may be presumed to be like Ned Flanders in their affect, but generally, are quite sophisticated in their use of media for broadcasting their message (for every cringey God’s-Not-Dead movie there’s also the legacy of pre-bankruptcy Veggietales).

Growing up, Mars Hill’s Nooma video series left a long lasting impression on me. Those short form films combined genuinely creative storytelling, filmmaking, and Biblical teaching. For a 12 year old kid who’d spent his life immersed in Bible stories told with a steady (and stale) cadence they were a revelation. I think they left such an impression because they really tried to honor and work within the medium of film’s strengths and limitations for articulating Christian claims.

All of the above is background to say that I think Practicing The Way’s trailers for their online courses recaptures the old Nooma magic a little bit. I’m glad they’re out there and I hope the teachings they are meant to spark interest for find fertile soil.

The series so far:

Sabbath

”…it’s a rhythm that God the creator built into the fabric of the human body and creation itself.”

Prayer

”…to pray is to commune with the God who is closer to us than we are to ourselves.”

Fasting (my favorite vid so far)

”…it’s an ancient practice whose time has come.”

Solitude (the production values jump from here onward)

”…solitude is the furnace of transformation.”

Generosity

”…little by little He makes our souls incandescent.”

Scripture

”…our part is to remember.”

For at least the past decade, whenever I reflect on the life, legacy, or oratory of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I repeatedly find myself returning to his final speech. Its most famous for the closing soliloquy about the Mountaintop, but in our times the whole speech is worth contending with. Those final prophetic words build on the other 40 minutes of reflection King offers on the state of the Prophetic/nonviolent wing of the Civil Rights movement.

Here’s the portion most folks have encountered (starting at 41:48):

Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the Mountaintop.

And I don’t mind.

Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the Mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!

And so I’m happy, tonight.

I’m not worried about anything.

I’m not fearing any man!

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!!