Hope in the Face of Danger

We live in what some consider a scary age. Even if you avoid all the dystopian books and films, real life provides more than enough worries. Thank God that C.S. Lewis offers wise counsel to help us cope with our fears without despairing.

The Department of Defense just released its 2019 report from the Electromagnetic Defense Task Force. The 2018 Report, which lays the foundation for the latest electromagnetic pulse (EMP) study, is also available.

These reports make fascinating, though sobering, reading. Their warnings are applicable not only to the United States, but to everyone depending on modern conveniences such as electricity. The EMP threat comes, after all, not only from nuclear attacks, but also from coronal mass ejections which are spawned regularly by the sun. (NASA agrees with the potential dangers.)

As the report says, “The potentially catastrophic effects of these types of natural or man-made EMP events are not science fiction but science fact and have been well studied and documented for nearly six decades.”

Warning people about the dangers—and preparations that can easily be made in advance to survive them—is the mandate of the Task Force. I imagine one of their educational recommendations they suggest might come to resemble the “Duck and Cover” training provided to students in the 1950s and 1960s.

How Bad Could It Be?

Pretty terrible, if the worst circumstances align. The reports support the findings of a previous Congressional study that “an EMP-induced blackout could cause a long-term nationwide grid collapse and the loss of up to 90 percent of the population through starvation, disease, and societal collapse.”

Ninety percent. This would be nothing less than apocalyptic. Yet, even in such a scenario, we would not need to surrender to hopelessness. I’ve discussed this in the past.

Most of the fatalities would result from starvation, since food production would drop dramatically, and there would be no fuel available to move it to markets. The even more ominous threat would come from our fellow citizens. Describing this, one contributor to the report cites three certain factors that are not currently considered in any official plans: human desperation, starvation, and “living without the rule of law” which has its own acronym, WROL.

C.S. Lewis’ Response

The danger of EMPs was little known during Lewis’ life. Nonetheless, he did write about the possibilities for global disaster created by the existence of hydrogen bombs. And Lewis’ response was the Christian one—do not despair, since these threats change almost nothing. Even without them, we humans are mortal. Likewise, barring the creation of a new heaven (which is coming), even the expanding universe we inhabit is destined to fade away.

Our ultimate hope comes not from the material creation, which itself shares the scars of humanity’s fall. We are not simply physical beings. Created in the image of God, you and I possess a spiritual nature. And God will deliver us from this final dissolution.

Lewis describes this dilemma extremely well in his essay “On Living in an Atomic Age.” And this video helps to illustrate Lewis’ words.

As Lewis says,

If we are all going to be destroyed by [an event such as an EMP], let that [event] when it comes find us doing sensible and human things—praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep” dwelling on our vulnerability. Such terrible events “may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.” (On Living in an Atomic Age)

Preparing for Disasters

When we lived in the Midwest, where winter storms could readily strand motorists for a day or more, we carried a “survival kit.” It was a wise precaution, though by the grace of God we never needed to use it.

Off the West Coast of the U.S. and Canada, lies a mounting danger. The Cascadia Subduction Zone generates earthquakes and mega-tsunamis every 500 years or so . . . Today tsunami escape routes have become a normal component of disaster preparedness for those living on the Washington and Oregon coasts.

Each individual and family must determine their own course when it comes to disaster preparation. If my family had settled in Texas where two tornadoes passed near our home while we lived there, I would not have relied on taking shelter in a hallway beneath an antique table. I would have prepared for the potential threat by having a home built with a basement designed to serve as a tornado shelter.

The problem isn’t that people take precautions that often prove unnecessary—at worst they have expended money that purchased only peace of mind. The problem is that some people become consumed by the prospect of a national or global disaster. Their fear can grow to the point where it is all they can think about and the rest of their life often ends up in ruins.

It is to people in this group—those we might call extreme doomsday preppers—that C.S. Lewis speaks most intentionally. He offers sound advice that can help restore balance to the lives of those who have been crippled by fear.

It will be very interesting to see how the recommendations of the Electromagnetic Defense Task Force are implemented. Particularly their challenge to actively educate the public. Hopefully whatever program arises will be reasonable and constructive, and avoid excessive drama. But, living in our increasingly hyperbolic world, I’m not confident that will be true. Prepare to hear more about this subject in the years ahead.


The image above was captured by NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory and the “Sun-flanking STERO-B spacecraft” in 2012.

A Dire Norwegian Crime

pulpitrockActually, the title may be slightly misleading, since we don’t know the nationality of the people who risked their child’s life over a 2,000 foot cliff . . . but the scene of their crime was one of Norway’s amazing natural wonders.

Preikestolen, is known in English as Pulpit Rock. It is a rare geological feature, a pillar of rock thrusting 1,982 feet from the ground, with three sides a sheer drop to the rocks. It stands majestic, adjacent to a picturesque fjord.

It’s lovely to behold. But only a fool would want to walk out on it, right?

I mean, just look at it. Doesn’t anyone else notice the huge fissure that splits the pulpit right in half? As I look at it, I can just imagine it splitting down the middle with the exposed side crashing down like an enormously oversized and exponentially elongated domino . . . but a domino made out of granite exposed for eons to the frigid Nordic winters so when it strikes the earth it will shatter into a million and a half fragments like a sheet of ice. Well, that’s what I see when I look at the pictures.

What I don’t see is a tourist site where I would like to prance out and pose for a photo beside the edge, or pretend to have accidentally fallen off the side.

Nope, not by a long shot.

As one visitor said, “It’s a straight drop. You don’t want to go too close because it’s pretty scary. You’d be pretty much dead if you fall down there.”

Yes, “pretty much.’

Nevertheless, scores of thousands of people every year prove how few cautionary genes they and I share by doing just that. Of course, I do share with C.S. Lewis the conviction that courage is utterly necessary for living a Christian life in an anti-Christian world. Even Screwtape understands that!

Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means, at the point of highest reality. A chastity or honesty or mercy which yields to danger will be chaste or honest or merciful only on conditions. Pilate was merciful till it became risky. (The Screwtape Letters).

But this sort of courage does not necessarily translate into foolhardy risking of one’s fragile body.

Back to Scandinavia

Apparently, Preikestolen is quite a popular spot.

I offer links below to a several videos of crazy stunts people have pulled on the small bluff. Some people apparently also like to go there for picnics. That reminded me of a column I posted about “Rational Fears” related to another frightening dining experience.

Tragically, in 2013 a tourist fell from the precipice while shooting photos. But here is the amazing part of that story: “Local sheriff Odd-Bjørn Næss said it was the first time anyone had accidentally fallen over the edge of Preikestolen.”

Up until I read the sheriff’s statement I had always taken pride in my 50% Norse lineage. One reason was because I considered my ancestors sturdy and honest folk. Yes, I see the sheriff’s “accidentally” disclaimer, and I suspect they do experience a number of suicides . . . but I believe that with all of the foolish behavior transpiring at Preikestolen there must be more fatal accidents . . .

The Crime With Which We Began

Accidents, of course, are not crimes. But this, most certainly is. Some adults, presumably the baby’s parents, put their small child at terrible risk by posing her or him beside the edge of the cliff simply to take some shocking photographs.

Yes, you read that right.

They set their little child, who was crawling at the time, on the brink of a 2,000 foot drop!

cliffchildIf you’re familiar with precious little ones, you know that babies do not always crawl in a straight line. Nor do they always continue moving in the direction you plan for them. Not only that, but they are prone to taking occasional tumbles–perhaps even rolling over onto their side or back. And on this rugged pillar top, mind you, the baby was on an extremely uneven, and possibly slippery, surface.

Simply put, these parents are criminals. In every civilized country I’m aware of, “child endangerment” is a crime. You can read the story about their foolhardy action here, and see the frightening photo from which this small image is cropped. (You can see the original picture and the the accompanying article here.)

Unfortunately, they pixilated the adults’ faces, so they can’t be recognized. Seems to me that they should have allowed them to be identified . . . if not for trial, for public shaming so they would be forced to reflect on the responsibilities one assumes as a parent.

Epilogue

trolltonguePreikestolen is not the only deadly sightseeing destination in Norway. Another goes by the more foreboding name of Trolltunga, Troll’s Tongue. It too has claimed at least one life, and from the photo of the small spit of rock, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to walk out on it.

 

As promised:

A Base Jumper Who Nearly Dies

Free Hanging Off of the Cliff

Insane Italians Slack Lining

There are more examples of the craziness evoked by the image of Preikestolen, but these are representative. I thank God I don’t feel the slightest envy as I watch people base jumping, free hanging, or slack lining.

I’m content to get my adrenaline rushes from reading a great book.

Beware of Beavers

beaverIt’s rather ironic that after my last post on the peaceful harmony of wildlife I would choose to post on the subject of increasing violence among once peaceful forest mammals.

Beavers—of all the unlikely creatures—have apparently been growing more aggressive.

That’s a far cry from the gentle domestic rodents C.S. Lewis introduced us to in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Just consider the politeness of Mr. and Mrs. Beaver when the Pevensie children are meeting Aslan for the first time:

“Go on,” whispered Mr. Beaver.

“No,” whispered Peter, “you first.”

“No, Sons of Adam before animals,” whispered Mr. Beaver back again.

As if we needed another reminder that we’re not in Narnia, reports out of Belarus indicate that beaver attacks are on the rise. In the most serious attack, a sixty year old man was actually slain by one of the web-footed amphibians. Accounts said a major artery in his leg was sliced by its “razor-sharp teeth.”

A frightening picture indeed.

Well, worrisome certainly . . . until we hear the rest of the story.

It turns out the fisherman was assaulting the poor little animal. While we must remain considerate of the grief of the sportsman’s family, it appears he was driving past the beaver—which was presumably minding its own woodland business—when he decided it would be fun to grab it and force it to pose for a picture with him.

Apparently—make note of this lest you inadvertently arouse a beaver’s ire—since they are predominantly nocturnal, beavers become disoriented and irritable when forced to pose for portraits during the daytime.

It’s one thing to enjoy nature’s wildness from a distance. Quite another to interpose ourselves and expect undomesticated beasts to behave with good manners. After all, as we learned when Aslan created Narnia, he didn’t civilize all of the furry beavers:

He was going to and fro among the animals. And every now and then he would go up to two of them (always two at a time) and touch their noses with his. He would touch two beavers among all the beavers, two leopards among all the leopards, one stag and one deer among all the deer, and leave the rest. (The Magician’s Nephew).