Volume 1 of Saga contains the first six issues of the acclaimed series, beginning with the birth of a daughter to two soldiers on opposing sides of an endless war who have fallen in love. They are searching for some place where they might be able to live in peace, but the war stretches toward the edges of the galaxy, and every possible force in it is against the fledgling family: magical creatures, advanced technologies, royal Robots complete with static-y CRT monitors for heads, sentient cats, mercenaries (including one with eight legs and even more guns who is named The Stalk), and the ghosts of a planet’s murdered children.
At the center of all that weird is the series’ best feature: human emotions, needs, drives, and relationships. What I most wanted when I reached this volume’s end was more. I do, however, give it this moderate critique: I have a hard time thinking about plunking down cash for each brief volume as it is released (two out now, the third later this Spring). This is a qualm which would admittedly never occur to me if I were actually a comic book reader, rather than someone whose main experience with serial comics was The Sandman after it was a completed series.
And so asking how to realize the true self is much like facing a large field covered with snow that has not yet been walked on and asking, “Where is the path?” The answer is to walk across it and there will be a path. One cannot find out how to realize the true self and then set out to reach the clearly visualized goal. Rather, one must walk on in faith and as one goes on, the goal appears–not before, nor within, nor beyond us, but it does appear.
James Finley, Merton’s Palace of Nowhere
When I was young, I was taught that the center of the Christian life was to “walk by the Spirit” (Galatians 5:16), a verse which was interpreted to mean that the Christian life is to learn the voice of the Spirit and then to obey. The problem: in the most-of-the-time when God isn’t speaking, then what do you do? One answer: do nothing.
Since then I have learned that the Christian tradition has developed precise language for this. The dynamic of waiting and only waiting I experienced then and which I tend toward now is what the Christian tradition has named Quietism, and the pole opposite Quietism is Activism. Both poles are problematic, Quietism being disembodied and solitary (and therefore anti-) Christianity and Activism being Peter cutting off Malchus’ ear at the arrest of Jesus.
The contemplative life springs from the conviction that there is a way to be grounded in God and to navigate between those two poles. Yes, we do work out our own salvation, but we never forget that we do so with fear and trembling.