A Christian Worldview from Silicon Valley

I’ve been to some amazing places on this earth, some of them highly populated and some of them extraordinarily devoid of population. Some of those places have been startlingly beautiful, some of them have contained great works of art, and some of them have been sculpted into great works of art. I consider it a blessing to both see and appreciate all of that.

But the greatest joys of life — at least for me — involve people. So I was just a little sad this afternoon as I said goodbye (temporarily, but for a while) to Sterling Stuckey and his amazing wife, Harriette, who, in passing through the Bay Area for a season, came into my life and the life of PACC and made us all better for it.

Sterling is, in some circles, kind of a famous fellow, I suppose. He might say, with a wry smile, “Oh, I don’t know about that.” But he had stopped by the church today to give me a copy of the manuscript for his latest book, African Culture and Melville’s Art, a work that will be published this year by Oxford University Press, and anyone who can get a book like that published by a major house, let alone write it, has got something going for him.

The book’s subtitle is The Creative Process in “Benito Cereno” and “Moby-Dick.” Probably not what one would call “light reading,” but I’m looking very much forward to it.

Why? Not because the title itself interests me, although it does interest me very much, but because of Sterling.

By many of the world’s standards, one might not think that Sterling and I would have much in common. But he showed up one day at PACC, and in fairly short order we learned we had three important things in common: we love creativity and the artists who created; we love to think; and we love God.

As time went on we found out that we disagreed on a few things, too, and that enriched our friendship as much as our agreements. (See “love to think,” above.) But my point is this: my life is richer because Sterling and Harriette passed this way. I hope and expect to see them again, and look forward to it.

In the meantime, my goal is simply this: to enrich the lives of those I meet, even in places where I’m just passing through.

I’ve been thinking for many years about the idea of freedom, and I’m certain that there are nooks and crannies I have yet to discover, as well as many rooms into which I’ve only glanced.

One of those rooms is human slavery, a condition in which one person becomes the legal property of another and is forced to obey that person. On my own I can only explore this room intellectually, having never been a slave or a slave owner. I can explore it emotionally with the help of those who have known slaves or been slaves, and one who has helped me do a little of that is the poet Elma Stuckey, mother of my friend Sterling Stuckey. Her work in The Collected Poems of Elma Stuckey has touched me and taught me.

But there is one room at the intersection of freedom and slavery that I do know something of, and that is the spiritual room. The apostle Paul knew about it too, and what a person to write about it! He was, of all men, most “free.” He was an Israelite, a Pharisee, highly educated by the best of Rabbis, and he was also a Roman citizen. In his culture, in his time, no one could be his master.

Except that he made himself a slave to Christ, because he realized that otherwise he was a slave to sin.

There is amazing freedom in being a slave to Christ, and it is a condition I highly recommend. Most of us don’t, of course, think of our relationship to Jesus Christ in that way. We think of him as our brother, our savior, our friend. We sometimes even say that he is our Lord or our Master, but that doesn’t mean we are his slaves.

Or does it?