Book of the Month: "The Book of Revelation" Graphic Novel

I have a confession to make:  I got in a bit over my head on this book of the month thing.  I'm currently wrestling through a pretty complex and philosophical work that I don't see myself finishing within the month, so I decided to cheat a bit, and offer a review of a shorter graphic novel--"The Book of Revelation" translated by Mark Arey and Philemon Svastiades, adapted by Matt Dorff and illustrated by Chris Koelle.

The book is a graphic interpretation of the New Testament book of Revelation--it contains a new translation of the full text of Revelation with multi-panel and full page illustrations to supplement the text.  I purchased the book because I am familiar with the work of illustrator Chris Koelle who has produced some of my favorite contemporary Scripture based artwork (see "The History of Redemption" www.historyofredemption.org for a few examples).  Koelle has a fascinating ability to synthesize ancient Christian art and modern graphic design techniques and principles to communicate the ideas and emotions behind God's Word.  Here are a few thoughts about the work:

MY MAJOR RESERVATION:  As a follower of Jesus and a life-long student of the Bible, I take Scripture seriously.  I believe that it is God's Word in the most literal sense possible, inspired and authoritative.  That being the case, I am a little uncomfortable with messing with Scripture in any way-- particularly messing with a book that explicitly says, "if anyone adds anything to [the words of this book], God will add to him the plagues described in this book."  Revelation 22:18.  That's a serious warning, and I wondered if it was wise to add illustrations to a book that pushes the limits of imagination, let alone depiction.

Ultimately, I am comfortable with the idea, because the book reverently submits the artwork to the text, making the words of the Scripture central.  In fact, I would say, the book is much like one of the Bible commentaries that I find so useful.  It places the inspired Scripture in front of us and and offers some historical, cultural, or linguistic thoughts which are not inspired, but may be nonetheless true, and helpful for bringing us to a deeper understanding of the inspired words.  I came to think of "The Book of Revelation" graphic novel as a commentary that used pictures instead of words to offer the illustrator's insight into Scripture.

MY NIT-PICKY COMPLAINT:  The book contains the text of a new translation of the ancient Greek manuscripts of the book of Revelation.  The translators' credentials for producing a new version of the text are not listed in the book, but based on a lot of personal study of the book of Revelation, it seems to be a decent translation. I did have a few nit-picky complaints--for example, instead of translating Jesus' promise to the church of Pergamum in Revelation 2:17 as the receipt of a "white stone," the translators make it a "white writ of acquittal."  That is one valid interpretation of what the white stone might mean but it is not what the original Greek says.  I prefer translations that, as much as possible, keep within the limits of the language and don't stray into interpreting the ideas.

Now that I've bored you with nit-picky translation notes, let me get to the good stuff:

MY RECOMMENDATION:  The book is fantastic.  I read through all 22 chapters of the book of Revelation in about an hour and a half on a Friday night (not something I'm sure I would have accomplished, had there not been supplementary illustrations).  I've studied and read the book of Revelation so many times that I think I had grown a bit numb to the beauty and terror, hope and horror within the pages.  It is truly a gripping picture of the culmination of history and the ultimate and inevitable victory and rule of Jesus Christ.  The illustrations consistently portray Jesus as the central figure of history, whether He be the suffering Servant of the cross, the conquering Lamb at the center of heaven's worship, or the celestial indisputable King of the cosmos.  Although no form of art could do justice to the glory and beauty of Christ, Koelle does a fantastic job of reminding us that Jesus is more noble, powerful, and wonderful than we may have remembered.  I was also reminded of how terrible God's wrath will be on those who resist the rule of His Son.  It's been quite a while since I've felt the level of horror in the book of Revelation that I saw portrayed in the pictures.  As disturbing as some of the images may be, however, the illustrator remains careful not to stray into gratuitous violence or gore.  The horror and judgment of the sinful world is more implied than explicitly sketched out.  I was even impressed by the depiction of the angels--I tend to imagine angels as fairly innocuous beings (like people with wings).  Koelle however illustrates them as fierce passionate otherworldly beings--creatures that would truly have to remind us not to be afraid if we encountered them.

In the end, I think the best parts of the book were not the fantastic images of demonic locusts, seven headed dragons, and worldwide cataclysms (although it was fascinating to see how these complex characters and events were depicted), but the nuanced reactions of the author, John, as he beholds and records His vision.  John is shown responding in dumbstruck awe, in disgust, in terror, and in overwhelming joy.  He tearfully embraces Jesus like an old friend.  He stands shell-shocked by the glories of heaven.  He recoils in disgust at the prostitute, Babylon who seduces the earth.  And as I observed John's reactions, so vividly drawn, I remembered that I too am asked to react to what God is revealing here.  I too am to enter into a thankful embrace of Jesus, a deep awe of the glories of God, a bitter disgust at the nature and consequences of sin.  And to that end-- to the purpose of entering just a little further into the beautiful story of what Jesus Christ has done, what He is doing, and, ultimately, what He will do--I can recommend this wonderful little piece of art.

Book of the Month: Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson

It’s going to take a bit of discipline on my part, but I’m going to try to read a new book every month and throw out a few thoughts on it.  We’ll start with a bestselling biography for the most obvious of reasons:  it was given to me as a gift, and didn’t require a trip to the bookstore or library!  Here’s some thoughts on Walter Isaacson’s authorized biography Steve Jobs:

The good:  Steve Jobs, of course, was one of the original founders of Apple and one of the driving forces behind its rise to become the most valuable company in the world.  I’ve never known a world without Apple products (the Apple II computer was released the year I was born, although only a handful of people ever owned or used one).  To someone who grew up alongside the personal computer, this book was a fascinating history of the technology behind an invention that all of us now take for granted.  I now know that many of the things I keep on my desk—from my phone to my ipod to my laptop did not suddenly appear out of thin air—they were the result of incredibly creative people working incredibly hard for an incredibly long period of time.  My own work ethic was significantly challenged by Apple’s determination to work hard to make excellent and innovative products.

The salty:  If  you happen to be one of the remaining three people on earth that haven’t read it, be warned:  there is some pretty rough language and a few vulgar comments scattered throughout the book.  Most of the offensive comments are direct quotations from Jobs himself, who prided himself on his brutal (and at times sadistic) honesty toward his friends and enemies.

The sad:  One verse haunted me as I read about Job’s life:  “What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul.”  (Matthew 16:26).  Steve Jobs was arguably one of the most successful entrepreneurs of the last 50 years.  He built an enduring company that made innovative and useful products and he became very wealthy doing it, but Steve Jobs never found peace.  Early in the book, we see a young Jobs challenging the existence of God and staging a dramatic exit from his childhood church.  The book closes decades later on the eve of his death as Jobs ruminated on the odds of there being an afterlife.  I find it terribly sad that someone who led such a remarkable life never knew the hope of a salvation that outlasted this temporary life.   

The slightly creepy:  The Apple II was originally sold for $666.66, a price set by Steve Jobs himself.  Also, Steve Wozniak admitted a fascination with repeating the number 6 and chose a phone number ending in 666.  With a proliferation of outlandish guesses as to who the antichrist is, why hasn’t a pastor or television preacher ever suggested one of the founders of Apple Computers?  My guess is none of them want to give up their iPhones.

 The challenging:  The book mentions several people and companies who were offered incredible opportunities to get in on the ground floor with Apple (one poor guy signed on as a part owner, and then backed out.  He could have been a billionaire, but now lives on Social Security).  Most of these individuals shied away from the chance because they were afraid.  Computers, at that time, were for hobbyists and geeks—no one knew if there would be a broad market for them.  No one wanted to take the risk of losing money or quitting their job on a bet like that.  Even Steve Wozniak, the engineer behind the first Apples tried to play it safe, keeping his day job at Hewlitt Packard and making Apple a side hobby.  Eventually, it became clear that this was too big to be a hobby—he would have to commit wholeheartedly or step aside and let more willing engineers push forward.  He chose to take a risk, and is still reaping the rewards for that choice.  Perhaps it is a bit of a leap, but I began to examine my own faith.  Am I willing to take risks for Christ or am I content to play it safe with my faith?  Following Jesus cannot be a side hobby where I still keep my day job.  He requires laying everything else aside.  It’s a risky business, to be sure.  I could lose everything I have here on earth, but the eternal dividends are greater than any stock option Apple could ever offer.

Puddleglum

My daughters and I just finished reading through The Silver Chair, the fourth installment of C.S. Lewis' celebrated Chronicles of Narnia.  This is the second time we have read through the series as a family, and the eighth or ninth time I have read through the series as an individual.  There are still paragraphs that cause me to blink back my tears and force me to steady my voice because of their beauty and truth.

As a child, I was introduced in a very real way to the love and power of God as I entered the land of Narnia in my imagination and met its lion-king, Aslan.  I was profoundly impacted by the truths I read and a seed of faith was planted in me at an early age through the Chronicles.  Now, I get to watch my own children with their wide-eyed wonder as chapter by chapter we explore Narnia.  I get to see the same seed of faith taking root in them, and I pray that by knowing the fictional character of Aslan in their imagination, they might better know the true person of Christ in reality.

One of my daughter's favorite Narnian characters is the hilariously pessimistic Marsh-Wiggle (a lanky froggish creature of Lewis' invention) named Puddleglum that we meet in The Silver Chair.  Although he takes an overly serious view of life, Puddleglum is often the clearest voice of reason and faith to his traveling companions, and it is he that ultimately saves their party from one of its gravest dangers.  When they become trapped in a dismal underground kingdom ruled by a diabolical witch, the Narnians are nearly convinced by the witch's clever arguments.  With logic that mirrors that of many cynics and critics of Christianity, she proposes that the dark claustrophobic cavern they are now in is the only true reality-- that everything else is simply wishful thinking.  There is no sun, no wind, no Aslan ruling over Narnia-- all of these things are merely the products of their childish imaginations.  It is Puddleglum who finally breaks the spell by saying, "If what you are saying is right, then we are just four babies playing games.  But isn't is strange that four babies can make up a play world that licks your real world hollow.  So I am going to stick by my play world.  I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it.  I'm going to live like a Narnian even if there isn't such a place as Narnia."

Amen, Puddleglum.  Me too.