Part of the whole process of “search,” engaging in the process that hopefully leads a minister within our liberal tradition to a “call,” that is employment, is lots and lots of self-revelation. One thing I’ve said a lot in a lot of different contexts, including here at this blog, but out of various interactions with folk along the way to that election this past Sunday to serve at the First Unitarian Church of Providence, really, really hit me: was how much I owed Science Fiction for what I call my “first education.’
As someone who moved just a tad less than once a year throughout my childhood and youth, while I attended school wherever we were, there was no sense of continuity and I have to admit the formal actual education part of all this was spotty. Fortunately, the family read a lot. My mom loved mysteries. And my father read Science Fiction. Voraciously…
Last Saturday evening as I was standing in front of a hundred and fifty or so people rambling on about my life, I alluded to how I began reading books on my own. It’s a well worn story, I’m sure I’ve written it here several times. But, it’s my story. I was thirteen or so and rummaging around boxes of stuff in the garage looking for my dad’s Playboys, when I stumbled upon a cache of those old Ace editions of Edgar Rice Burroughs novels with cover illustrations by Frank Frazetta.
This began a twenty-year romance with Science Fiction.
My taste buds would eventually shift and it has been years and years since I’ve read a Science Fiction novel. (My “trash” today is the mystery genre…)
But, how much I owe Science Fiction for opening worlds of possibility.
All this said, I’ve just noticed how on this day in 1988 Robert Heinlein died.
I was particularly a fan of what was called “hard science fiction.” And my favorite authors were probably Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke and Heinlein. My holy trinity for a number of years. Each said a lot to me in my formation as an adult. I’ve mentioned both Asimov and Clarke elsewhere. And that would be appropriate as I probably owe them the most. I don’t recall mentioning Heinlein, although I hope I have…
If not quite as important as Asimov and Clarke to me, he was very, very important. Heinlein’s fierce devotion to the individual was very revelatory. His advocacy of polyamory opened my constrained Baptist eyes to the idea that even human sexuality was not necessarily the way the dominant culture claimed it was. And his devotion to clear thinking, most of all, and which he shared with Asimov and Clarke suggested a route that would, frankly, eventually take me far away from his philosophy, and to what I would become.
My, oh, my; what I owe that man and those authors.
Thank you.
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