Finding the Gospel in the Cerulean Sea
Vikki Randall
"I am but paper. Brittle and thin. I am held up to the sun, and it shines right through me. I get written on, and I can never be used again. These scratches are a history. They're a story. They tell things for others to read, but they only see the words, and not what the words are written upon. I am but paper, and though there are many like me, none are exactly the same. I am parched parchment. I have lines. I have folds. Get me wet, and I melt. Light me on fire, and I burn. Take me in hardened hands, and I crumble. I tear. I am but paper. Brittle and thin."
- The House in the Cerulean Sea
Imagine, if you will, a story about a mid-level manager—a bureaucrat caught in a soul-less system governed by official Rules and Regulations. Imagine this mindless bureaucrat, as part of his regular duties, is assigned to perform a routine visit to a group home for special children. He arrives at the isolated island where the home is located, only to find that one of the residents is, in fact, the antichrist.
What would your expectation be of such a tale? Would it be one you’d like to read? What would you assume about the emotional tenor? What form do you think the antichrist figure would take? What would they look like? How would they act?
Take all those expectations and assumptions and now turn them on their head. That’s the surprising twist that is what has become my favorite novel, The House in the Cerulean Sea, by T.J. Klune. It is a beautiful and compelling story. I’ll try not to give too many spoilers, because it’s one you’ll want to read and experience for yourself. But there are some key themes that resonate with this peculiar time we find ourselves in, a time marked by deep divisions.
Many years ago, I went with my now-husband, Rory, to his hometown of Vancouver, BC. It was my first time visiting the Pacific Northwest. We went walking in the rainforest there, under a lush canopy of trees. Underfoot was a thick layer of leaves in shades of green and gold. At some point the conversation turned to banana slugs, and I mentioned I’d never seen one.
Rory laughed and pointed down. For the first time, I realized that thick undergrowth of green and gold was moving. The ground we were walking on was completely covered with slugs. I wasn’t expecting to see them that day, so didn’t notice them until Rory pointed them out.
The mental map we hold of the world—our expectations and assumptions—determine to a surprisingly large degree what we do and do not see. We all think we’re seeing clearly, but our mental picture really dictates how we see and interpret reality.
The House in the Cerulean Sea is a story about changing our mental map and challenging our assumptions. The residents of the seaside village close to the island regard the residents of the group home with fear and suspicion. They are guided by a familiar slogan, “If you see something, say something.” And so they are hyper-vigilant, always on guard, watching for “something” that might threaten their idyllic existence. Their mental map of the world outside their safe little village is of something threatening and scary.
We are so prone these days to seeing the world, and our country in particular, in similar terms. Our mental map of the nation we are living in is often of threat and danger. We are so very divided politically and socially, economically and theologically. Those political and cultural divisions have spilled over into our friendships, family and even our churches. Our social media and especially our news sources are siloed, reinforcing those assumptions and expectations.
There is a human tendency to divide into “tribes”—us/them. Black/white, gay/straight, native born/immigrant. We are especially aware of it in our political division between Democrat and Republican. We see it at play in the scapegoating of LGBTQ+ folks, immigrants, the poor, and people of color. This tendency to divide the world into us/them seems to be inherent to the human nature—perhaps even our “original sin”. We see it in pretty much every nation throughout history. We even see it in the Bible. And yet, the story of Jesus is of one who is constantly breaking down barriers. The message of the gospel is the good news of a world that may be broken, but is also beautiful. We are invited to reframe our mental map and embrace the diverse beauty of the world God created and called good.
The us/them instinct is a natural tendency because it feels good. It reinforces group cohesion. When you are part of the “in group” you feel united in a common identity—even though in fact you have become more divided. Our social media algorithms are built on this and feed into it. Progressives have seen this at play in the GOP and rightly call it out. But we need to be careful as well to guard against our own tendency toward scapegoating the right.
The challenge of diversity and inclusion versus tribalism and exclusion is the core spiritual challenge behind Christian nationalism, or what David Gushee calls Authoritarian Reactionary Christianity. He notes it is a counter-revolution—a reaction to cultural norms around gender, sexuality, race, and immigration. It is a reaction rooted in a mental map of apocalyptic doom and fear of the “other.” “If you see something, say something.”
As we face an election that will be filled with acrimony, division, and partisanship, how can we learn to reframe our perceptions, to see the “other” in new ways? How do we rightly call out the evils of racism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia and misogyny without becoming a mirror of the evils we seek to resist? We must lean into spiritual practices that help us guard our hearts, beginning with our mental map of the world and the nation.
The wisdom of The House in the Cerulean Sea reminds us: "You fear what you don't understand. You see us as chaos to the ordered world you know... We make mistakes. Constantly. It's what makes us human, even if we're different from one another. You see us as something to be feared. And for the longest time, I've seen you as nothing but living ghosts from a past I'd give anything to forget. But this is our home, and one we share."
Loving God, expand our vision and open our imagination. Help us to see beyond our narrow expectations. Help us to see the diversity and beauty of the world you have entrusted us to. Help us to heal. Amen.
- The House in the Cerulean Sea
Imagine, if you will, a story about a mid-level manager—a bureaucrat caught in a soul-less system governed by official Rules and Regulations. Imagine this mindless bureaucrat, as part of his regular duties, is assigned to perform a routine visit to a group home for special children. He arrives at the isolated island where the home is located, only to find that one of the residents is, in fact, the antichrist.
What would your expectation be of such a tale? Would it be one you’d like to read? What would you assume about the emotional tenor? What form do you think the antichrist figure would take? What would they look like? How would they act?
Take all those expectations and assumptions and now turn them on their head. That’s the surprising twist that is what has become my favorite novel, The House in the Cerulean Sea, by T.J. Klune. It is a beautiful and compelling story. I’ll try not to give too many spoilers, because it’s one you’ll want to read and experience for yourself. But there are some key themes that resonate with this peculiar time we find ourselves in, a time marked by deep divisions.
Many years ago, I went with my now-husband, Rory, to his hometown of Vancouver, BC. It was my first time visiting the Pacific Northwest. We went walking in the rainforest there, under a lush canopy of trees. Underfoot was a thick layer of leaves in shades of green and gold. At some point the conversation turned to banana slugs, and I mentioned I’d never seen one.
Rory laughed and pointed down. For the first time, I realized that thick undergrowth of green and gold was moving. The ground we were walking on was completely covered with slugs. I wasn’t expecting to see them that day, so didn’t notice them until Rory pointed them out.
The mental map we hold of the world—our expectations and assumptions—determine to a surprisingly large degree what we do and do not see. We all think we’re seeing clearly, but our mental picture really dictates how we see and interpret reality.
The House in the Cerulean Sea is a story about changing our mental map and challenging our assumptions. The residents of the seaside village close to the island regard the residents of the group home with fear and suspicion. They are guided by a familiar slogan, “If you see something, say something.” And so they are hyper-vigilant, always on guard, watching for “something” that might threaten their idyllic existence. Their mental map of the world outside their safe little village is of something threatening and scary.
We are so prone these days to seeing the world, and our country in particular, in similar terms. Our mental map of the nation we are living in is often of threat and danger. We are so very divided politically and socially, economically and theologically. Those political and cultural divisions have spilled over into our friendships, family and even our churches. Our social media and especially our news sources are siloed, reinforcing those assumptions and expectations.
There is a human tendency to divide into “tribes”—us/them. Black/white, gay/straight, native born/immigrant. We are especially aware of it in our political division between Democrat and Republican. We see it at play in the scapegoating of LGBTQ+ folks, immigrants, the poor, and people of color. This tendency to divide the world into us/them seems to be inherent to the human nature—perhaps even our “original sin”. We see it in pretty much every nation throughout history. We even see it in the Bible. And yet, the story of Jesus is of one who is constantly breaking down barriers. The message of the gospel is the good news of a world that may be broken, but is also beautiful. We are invited to reframe our mental map and embrace the diverse beauty of the world God created and called good.
The us/them instinct is a natural tendency because it feels good. It reinforces group cohesion. When you are part of the “in group” you feel united in a common identity—even though in fact you have become more divided. Our social media algorithms are built on this and feed into it. Progressives have seen this at play in the GOP and rightly call it out. But we need to be careful as well to guard against our own tendency toward scapegoating the right.
The challenge of diversity and inclusion versus tribalism and exclusion is the core spiritual challenge behind Christian nationalism, or what David Gushee calls Authoritarian Reactionary Christianity. He notes it is a counter-revolution—a reaction to cultural norms around gender, sexuality, race, and immigration. It is a reaction rooted in a mental map of apocalyptic doom and fear of the “other.” “If you see something, say something.”
As we face an election that will be filled with acrimony, division, and partisanship, how can we learn to reframe our perceptions, to see the “other” in new ways? How do we rightly call out the evils of racism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia and misogyny without becoming a mirror of the evils we seek to resist? We must lean into spiritual practices that help us guard our hearts, beginning with our mental map of the world and the nation.
The wisdom of The House in the Cerulean Sea reminds us: "You fear what you don't understand. You see us as chaos to the ordered world you know... We make mistakes. Constantly. It's what makes us human, even if we're different from one another. You see us as something to be feared. And for the longest time, I've seen you as nothing but living ghosts from a past I'd give anything to forget. But this is our home, and one we share."
Loving God, expand our vision and open our imagination. Help us to see beyond our narrow expectations. Help us to see the diversity and beauty of the world you have entrusted us to. Help us to heal. Amen.
The House in the Cerulean Sea
A magical island. A dangerous task. A burning secret.
Linus Baker leads a quiet, solitary life. At forty, he lives in a tiny house with a devious cat and his old records. As a Case Worker at the Department in Charge Of Magical Youth, he spends his days overseeing the well-being of children in government-sanctioned orphanages.
When Linus is unexpectedly summoned by Extremely Upper Management he's given a curious and highly classified assignment: travel to Marsyas Island Orphanage, where six dangerous children reside: a gnome, a sprite, a wyvern, an unidentifiable green blob, a were-Pomeranian, and the Antichrist. Linus must set aside his fears and determine whether or not they’re likely to bring about the end of days.
But the children aren’t the only secret the island keeps. Their caretaker is the charming and enigmatic Arthur Parnassus, who will do anything to keep his wards safe. As Arthur and Linus grow closer, long-held secrets are exposed, and Linus must make a choice: destroy a home or watch the world burn.
An enchanting story, masterfully told, The House in the Cerulean Sea is about the profound experience of discovering an unlikely family in an unexpected place—and realizing that family is yours.
- from Goodreads. Click here.
Linus Baker leads a quiet, solitary life. At forty, he lives in a tiny house with a devious cat and his old records. As a Case Worker at the Department in Charge Of Magical Youth, he spends his days overseeing the well-being of children in government-sanctioned orphanages.
When Linus is unexpectedly summoned by Extremely Upper Management he's given a curious and highly classified assignment: travel to Marsyas Island Orphanage, where six dangerous children reside: a gnome, a sprite, a wyvern, an unidentifiable green blob, a were-Pomeranian, and the Antichrist. Linus must set aside his fears and determine whether or not they’re likely to bring about the end of days.
But the children aren’t the only secret the island keeps. Their caretaker is the charming and enigmatic Arthur Parnassus, who will do anything to keep his wards safe. As Arthur and Linus grow closer, long-held secrets are exposed, and Linus must make a choice: destroy a home or watch the world burn.
An enchanting story, masterfully told, The House in the Cerulean Sea is about the profound experience of discovering an unlikely family in an unexpected place—and realizing that family is yours.
- from Goodreads. Click here.