Apr 8, 2011 2
Why It’s Good to Parody Ourselves in Fake E-Books
A few years ago I began to wonder what a parody of myself would look like. It was a bit painful to consider at first.
Why would I put myself through such pain?
I felt like I was taking myself and my beliefs way too seriously. I feared that I was losing my balance and not putting enough of my faith into practice. I had shifted from the more conservative (possibly fundamentalist in some ways) end of evangelicalism into the more progressive end, and I sensed myself making the same mistakes under a different banner.
A parody of myself would force me to look at myself in a different light, take some of my beliefs to their extremes, and help me figure out where I needed to change and what needed to stay the same.
As I grew more comfortable with the concept of a parody, I began to experiment with a series of posts called “Sarcastic Saturday.” It was quite hard to do, and it didn’t quite pack the punch I wanted as a parody of myself.
So I sat on the idea for a while.
In the midst of the Rob Bell “HellGate” debate, the wheels began to turn.
I began thinking of a parody that would hopefully help all sides step back, laugh a bit at themselves, and hopefully cool things off a bit. At the very least, a parody helps us step back and take ourselves less seriously for a moment. That has done me a world of good in making me a more loving and open conversation partner.
Out of the ideas swirling in my mind, I mashed together a parody of Bell’s book Love Wins with a parody of Twilight and all of the other vampire TV shows and books in pop culture and wrote a novella e-book that I titled Love Bites (you can still download the whole 15,600 word e-book). I didn’t have an agenda other than helping us step back from the angry debates, laugh a bit, and hopefully returning to our conversations with a little less… well… bite.
I want to make it clear that I really like Rob Bell. His book Velvet Elvis echoed many of the things I’ve been thinking (you could say it’s a more accessible take on some of the stuff I say in Coffeehouse Theology).
Hopefully everyone who reads the book noticed another character: Ned Ciwinski. Ned is a parody of myself: a bumbling, dorky writer obsessed with being relevant with theology and culture. One of my friends thought he was the hero of the story, but that was purely a mistake on my part if anyone thought that. I really wanted Ned to just provide comic relief, to get lucky at a few key points with his half-witted ideas, and to provide that parody of myself that I’ve longed to put together.
Ned Ciwinskiy reminds me that I can get lost in my theology and isolate myself to the point that I end up forgetting how to relate to others. To a certain degree, Ned was my round-about way of getting to the excellent point made by Don Miller that Jesus doesn’t need theology experts to advance his Kingdom. Sometimes the theology experts can lose their way.
I currently have a book proposal that I’m sending around that examines what we can learn from the people who rejected Jesus. The majority of those who rejected Jesus were the theology experts of his time. I’ve often written on this blog that the New Testament reads like a horror story for seminary students.
I have a feeling that Ned wouldn’t want to read a book like that, which is why I needed to write a silly story about our theology debates with vampires and a self-absorbed and self-proclaimed theology and culture expert named Ned fumbling his way through the story.
Ricky Gervais once said to Steve Carrell (who plays Michael Scott on The Office), “If you don’t know someone like Michael Scott, then you are Michael Scott.” Along similar lines, if I couldn’t write that story with Ned in it, then the truth is that I could very well become just like Ned—without the vampires I hope.
Refractions
