In anticipation of the upcoming sci-fi directed by Denis Villeneuve, I’m re-reading the genre-defining Dune.
I first read it a few years ago, after seeing it in a list of “100 books you need to read before you die” (or something like that.) Science fiction has been just about the only genre that can keep my interest through an entire book. Since reading it, I’ve gotten through almost all of Frank Herbert’s Dune titles.
One thing that has always stood out to me is the figure of the “Fremen” in Dune. Set on the desert planet of Arrakis, the Fremen are a group of people who live in the constant stress of water-scarcity. Their entire lives revolve around preserving moisture and carving a living out of the desert. As a result of their harsh living conditions, they are a people with keen senses and strength.
(Spoiler Alert!) In fact, they are such a strong people that they can easily overpower the legendary – and seemingly invincible – Empirical troops with nothing but their knives and wits.
The description of the source of their strength is something that I’ve wrestled with ever since reading it. Their strength derives from the fact that almost every moment of their lives is threatened by harsh realities. The giant sand-worms that can devour cities. The sandstorms that can tear flesh and turn bones into dust. The constant threat of dehydration. All of these factors – and more – has shaped these people into a deadly force. They are trained by their environment to be ever-vigilant, ever-aware, and ever-practical. No conflict is beyond their ability to conquer, because every day is a battle for survival for them.
It makes me think of our current culture, and I wonder if living in comfort is a great threat to our existence than it is a benefit. We are accustomed to convenience. We are used to people giving us what we desire. Our needs are of no real concern to us; there is always water, always food, and always someone willing to offer shelter. (Yes, there are those who do live in threat of starvation, dehydration, and exposure, but I am speaking to our general way of life).
We are not used to living in conflict – true conflict. The harsh realities of simply existing are kept away from our awareness and replaced by less-threatening realities such as where we will spend our vacation and how to afford a car payment.
I saw a quote the other day that gave me pause. “Having ‘just enough’ is the worst thing that can happen to us. It gives us no sense of urgency to move forward.”
Shifting this conversation to something more practical, I wonder if the Church has become too comfortable. We have gotten used to being widely accepted in our culture, having our beliefs written down in governmental documents or etched in monuments. We are startled and caught off-balance by even a simple challenge by someone who does not agree with our beliefs.
Rather than patiently reading the landscape and standing firm in the midst of political and social changes, we act as though we are owed something. We have gotten soft and complacent in our comfort. We are too afraid to be seen as bullies, or homophobic, or racist, or misogynistic, and we care more about how we are perceived by people who hate us.
Not only that, but such fears have led us into complacency. We are stuck in the 1950s, unable to understand – let alone address – the changes we are faced with. In particular, we see the effects of this among our young adults who are leaving the Church in droves.
Have we become unwilling to take risks? Satisfied with ‘just enough,’ have we silently shuttered our doors and windows in favor of self-isolation and a slow death?
Or are we willing to go out in boldness and face the elements, learning once again how to live in a climate the constantly threatens our existence?
Strait Talk 