Over the course of the last several months, I’ve been reflecting a great deal on the vocation of the artist in light of the apostolic identity of lay men and women—people called by God to not only share the love of Christ with the world through words, but also through action, through the offering of our talents, gifts, and resources for the sake of others. The web being what it is, I only recently stumbled upon a community of artists who are serious about combining their faith with a particular genre of creative writing. I have tremendous respect for these men and women, and I can honestly say that I have been enriched by their prayers and insights.

However, the rhetorical hyperbole of this essay’s title notwithstanding, there are things that trouble and disturb me about supporting and feeding an artificial category like "Christian SF." D.G.D. over at Sci-Fi Catholic and I have been communicating back and forth about this topic quite a bit. Hopefully this essay, written from an unapologetically Catholic perspective, will start a conversation that allows us all to reflect more on what we do as writers of science fiction and fantasy.

I want to say straight out that I don't think Christian SF is bad, just dangerous. What follows is a reflection on some foundational theological principles and then an examination of the two major issues I see with "Christian SF." You can go here to read what Sci-Fi Catholic has to say on the topic. 

The Role of Believers
As disciples of Christ, we don’t simply stumble through life solely on our own, tossed randomly by the waves like so much flotsam. For as St. Paul says:

Or are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? We were indeed buried with Him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life. (Rom 6:3-4)

When we receive the sacrament of Baptism, we are incorporated into the Body of Christ, receiving the very Life of Christ and, therefore, becoming participants in the priestly, prophetic, and royal dimensions of that life. This is why Peter could write:

But you are "a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own, so that you may announce the praises" of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. (1Peter 2:5)

But what does that really mean? A closer examination of the three Offices of Christ reveals some startling truths.

A priest is one who offers sacrifices on behalf of another. Christ, the High Priest, offered His very Body and Blood, His Life, as a sacrifice to reunite man with God. As sharers in this priestly office, we are called to offer ourselves, all that we have, as a sacrifice for others so that they may know the Love, and the Healing, and the Justice of God in their lives.

A prophet is one who reveals the Heart and Mind of God to His People. Christ announced God’s Judgment on the world and proclaimed the Good News of Kingdom of Heaven. As sharers in this prophetic office, we are called to announce the Good News of Salvation to the world and proclaim God’s Love and Mercy in the midst of the darkness, injustice, and brokenness of the world.

A king is one who governs in the name of God. Christ governs His people as a Good Shepherd who gathers and guides His flock. As sharers in this royal mission, we are called to order the things of this world so that they reflect all that is truly and authentically human, evangelizing cultures and social institutions in the light of the Gospel.

John Paul II, in his apostolic exhortation Christifidelis Laici (Christ’s Lay Faithful People) encapsulates the reality of lay participation in the Offices of Christ:

But in particular the lay faithful are called to restore to creation all its original value. In ordering creation to the authentic well-being of humanity in an activity governed by the life of grace, they share in the exercise of the power with which the Risen Christ draws all things to himself and subjects them along with himself to the Father, so that God might be everything to everyone.

The things that we do in our everyday lives—our work, our interactions with people at the supermarket, the way we relate to our families—have particular significance. As Sherry Weddell, co-founder of the Catherine of Siena Institute, often says, "There is no such thing as vocational unemployment in the Church." Each of us has a specific vocation that takes into account this time and this place in the history of the world. Our vocations, then, are particular works of love that only we, as unique and unrepeatable manifestations of the Love of God, can undertake.

Artists, therefore, have particular roles to play as men and women called by God to share Christ with the world:

It is in living and acting that man establishes his relationship with being, with the truth and with the good. The artist has a special relationship to beauty. In a very true sense it can be said that beauty is the vocation bestowed on him by the Creator in the gift of “artistic talent”. And, certainly, this too is a talent which ought to be made to bear fruit, in keeping with the sense of the Gospel parable of the talents (cf. Mt 25:14-30).

 

Here we touch on an essential point. Those who perceive in themselves this kind of divine spark which is the artistic vocation—as poet, writer, sculptor, architect, musician, actor and so on—feel at the same time the obligation not to waste this talent but to develop it, in order to put it at the service of their neighbour and of humanity as a whole.¹

Christian speculative fiction writers, then, participate in the priestly, prophetic, and royal office of Christ whenever we write.

The Goodness of Creation
Though man’s relationship with creation, that initial and intended harmony with the world around him, experienced profound rupture as a result of Adam’s disobedience, the Church has ever held, particularly against the various Gnostic heresies, that the world is not evil. The "stuff" of this world matters. In fact, God used the stuff of this world for our salvation. Thus, Christ became fully human (even as He was fully Divine) for our sake.

Because of this, the world isn’t simply our mission field. Our living in the world is the means through which we, united with Christ, may become holy. The secular isn’t opposed to the sacred. Rather, the secular is a manifestation of the sacred. It refers to those temporal things which God has given to us (men and women) to order and govern. We are called, therefore, to bring the light of Christ into all areas of human endeavor, rendering them more just and more beautiful—i.e., truly and authentically human. In this way, there is no such thing as Christian Politics or Christian Business. There is simply politics or business—areas to which we, as Christians, are called to be salt, and leaven, and light.

The Betrayal of Enclaving
It is precisely here that I have my first misgivings about Christian SF. It is a fundamentally artificial category that walls itself off from the rest of the world. This is a cultural tendency that I have noticed among Christians—the instinct to "enclave," or create a Christian-ized version of some secular cultural category.

You can see a humorous example of that here:

Building a category like Christian SF creates a kind of walled fortress—it keeps Christians out of the SF world (as if the secular world of speculative fiction were not fit for Christians to live in—or read in)—and it tends to keep the world out of "Christian SF."

If, indeed, the writer has a vocation to offer his gift for the sake of the whole world, then consciously and actively supporting the "Christian SF" enclave is the literary equivalent of hiding one’s light under a bushel. It's difficult to be salt if you stay in a shaker, and leaven that never mixes with the dough won't cause it to rise. Exposure to Beauty is one of the most powerful ways that a person can have an experience of God. There are many in the sf/fantasy readership (and the world) who are in need of that kind of experience—and these folks will never step foot inside a Christian bookstore.

Not in a million years.

While doing some research for my own edification, I came across a great list (at Where the Map Ends) of authors writing "Christian SF" whom I have NEVER heard of. Now, my particular knowledge of authors writing in the sf/fantasy field may not actually mean much in the grand scheme of things, but my point is that I have been reading sf/fantasy for about 30 years and working within that area of publishing for about 10 of those years. The fact that I haven’t heard of most of these authors means that there is a good chance that many other readers of sf/fantasy haven’t either.

And that not only is a shame, I believe it’s also a failure of the Church to more fully live out the Great Commission.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying that no one should create art specifically for the Christian community. We are in need of beauty to strengthen and refresh us as we labor in the Vineyard. However, the creation of stuff specifically for the Christian community is not the primary vocation of most lay men and women artists. Most of us are called to use our gifts for the sake of the common good—for the whole world (baptized and unbaptized alike).

The work of the artist is to present Truth and Beauty to the world—not just to keep their gifts and vision for the Christian community.

Artistic Quality
Living out the vocation of an artist doesn’t necessarily mean beating people over the head with a Christian allegory, either! Tolkien, for example, wrote a classic work of beauty that has actually led many folks to conversion, and he never mentioned God or presented an allegorical tale of Christianity.

In fact, I’m in complete agreement with the author of the Lord of the Rings, who once remarked, "I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence." My first novel, which in no way compares to Tolkien or other masters of speculative fiction, begins with a crucifixion scene and tells the tale of the ultimate redemption of the protagonist—and yet it is a book written in the Dungeons & Dragons world of Greyhawk. It sold extraordinarily well for a first novel (precisely because of its branding), and tens of thousands of readers experienced this story of redemption who would not have otherwise if it were labeled "Christian SF."

Perhaps the category of "Christian SF" sprang into existence as a reaction against a lack of interest in specifically Christian-themed stories from secular SF Publishers. I’m not an expert on the history of this subgenre. I do believe, however, that we would all do well to examine why that reluctance exists. To be sure, there is a great deal of cultural hostility against morality and principles based upon the gospel these days. And one would be foolish not to acknowledge this bias.

However, I think the possibility also exists that such specifically Christian-themed work often lacks artistry. It comes off as too preachy—a thinly disguised sermon or reflection upon the Christian spiritual life. In an earlier post entitled The Beauty of Language, I wrote that "there is no artistry in propaganda." Such a theme is echoed by Martin Harold, an adjunct professor at John Paul II University, in the post Christianity vs. Hollywood that appears on his blog, Fides and Film:

A far more egregious mistake than engaging in a doomed power struggle with Hollywood has been the use of film to create thinly veiled sermons. The Left Behind series among others hides its artistic impoverishment behind good intentions. This is a destructive development; it results in the Christian film industry confining itself to merely catering to a small Christian ghetto. This propaganda mindset has forged an unwelcome gap between the artistic talents of secular filmmakers and Christian filmmakers. Until we learn to engage the secular media and learn from their artistic and business techniques, we will not impact the industry in any meaningful way.....

Here, Harold speaks specifically about film, and you can see further examples of that with the artistically dreadful (but beautifully messaged) films Therese (to use a Catholic example) and Facing the Giants. However, you can find examples in the literary medium as well (the Left Behind series, again).

And this is another example of the negative effect of the "Christian SF" enclave—it supports substandard artistry and allows it to flourish despite the fact that it would not normally stand on its own artistic merits. Because there is so much support for the "Christian SF" enclave, Christians are allowing the message to trump artistic concerns. In effect we are saying, "Sure, this work is not that good, but it has a great message so we need to support it." But when it comes to art, particularly art that should have an impact on the wider world, the execution of the medium is as important as the message that it carries. It’s like an artistic hypostatic union.

Here’s what I’m not saying: I’m not saying that explicitly "Christian SF" is always poorly done. However, I am saying that if our work is to have an impact on the secular world, it must at least meet (if not exceed) the standards of quality set by the secular publishing industry. The "Christian SF" enclave works against that principle by offering a home to substandard works. Artists are, therefore, rarely forced to hone their craft further, and we begin to see the same unwelcome gap between the artistic talents of secular SF writers and "Christian SF" writers as we do in film.

Closing Thoughts
To be sure, there are exceptions to my generalizations, and I’m sure that somewhere someone will be able to point out where I have unfairly judged. But if we are to truly live out our vocations as artists, I believe that we will have to venture forth from our enclaves and engage the secular world, rather than withdraw from it.

It would be fantastic if we had a fiction writing version of Act One, a non-profit whose goal is to:

. . .train and mentor Christians of all denominations to work in mainstream film & television. Stressing artistry, excellence, professionalism, and spirituality, Act One’s goal is not for its alumni to produce “religious” entertainment, but rather film and TV projects that combine mastery of craft with great depth and meaning. As a non-profit organization, we are wholly devoted to the professional and spiritual development of our students.

Even if this doesn’t, yet, exist for us, we are called to shed the light of the gospel on the whole world through our writing. Thus, I believe that supporting the category of "Christian SF" is problematic at best for those of us who write speculative fiction from a Christian perspective. The bottom line is that I am a writer who is a Christian. I write novels that inevitably flow from my worldview. I do not, nor will I ever, write a "Christian novel."

And that’s why I hate "Christian SF."

1John Paul II, Letter to Artists, 1999