Bookshelf: Catcher in the Rye

Catcher in the Rye

Recently started to volunteer with the junior high group at my church. I confess, I don't remember being that antsy when I was a kid. Of course, we remember what we want to remember! Its been a great celebration of life and faith to be with them. They interact with religious ideas in short blocks of time (attention span is still finite -- do we ever totally grow out of that?) and can do so with intellectual honesty and begin to see that there are consequences of belief. They are taking the first tentative steps in a journey that could last a lifetime with eternal consequences.

My hope for us as volunteers and staff is that we can be their guides and cheerleaders. But in today's world with so many dangers, I suspect there will be occasions we will be asked to be more than that. Kyrie Eleison. Christe Eleison.

A few months ago, I decided to revisit my "teenage" life by reading a book that is often on middle school reading lists, Catcher in the Rye. It wasn't on mine then. I wondered what my reaction would have been if it were. Reading it as a baby-boom/gen X young adult gave me a different perspective I'm sure. At one level, I could relate to Holden because I know from experience something about alienation because all my life I've resembled the "stereotypical shy scientist" nerd type. It took a long time to become at peace with who I am and even to celebrate who I am.

But Holden was stuck. The death of his brother and his isolation were like rip tides that pulled him out to sea. Reading the book's raw descriptions and dialog was heart breaking. I felt like I was watching a auto accident unfold in slow motion. I felt the pang of guilt like I was on the highway stopping to look at the traffic accident: you say, don't look, don't look, but you look.

But it was a picture of humanity and the downward spiral of a lost soul. We need to look at it in real life and in fiction so our hearts do not grow cold. Hopefully, we will be moved to compassion. There were two characters who seem to see through the fog and try to help him. Those in my mind were the "whispers of grace." Maybe they made a difference in what could have been a worse situation? I don't know. The story is told as is and that would be speculative. But I'd like to believe that mattered and that we can matter.