I have been helping Dr. Spittler, the former provost at Fuller Seminary, move his library out of his office. Dr. Spittler hasn't worked at Fuller since 2002, but the seminary has graciously given him a space on campus for the past 5 years. Recently Dr. Spittler was asked to move out of his office due to space restrictions on campus. He has a remarkable amount of books, what he called "40 years worth", surrounding the walls of his office. On my part, moving the books has taken some sweat, and on his part has taken tears. I stood and talked with Dr. Spittler today after we ran out of boxes to continue with the project. Tears filled his eyes as he was reflecting upon his life and work that was represented within the metaphor of his personal library. It was an intense moment as we spoke of the changing world that we dwell within. As Dr. Spittler was tearing over the lament of the boxing of his books, I have been reflecting that those moments of boxing his library probably also stood for a bigger shift with implications not only for the individual of Dr. Spittler, but also for the world. A student in class was reflecting upon the modern architecture of Fuller's new library that has begun being constructed. He was disappointed that the ethos of the building did not contain more of a postmodern texture. I liked the thought, but the thought was trumped as the professor responded with another. He said, "We can question the architecture of the new building, but the real question is... Why are we even building a library?" I have proposed this thought to a mixed bag of people and the trend seems to be consistent. This question makes more and more sense to younger people. The older the individual, the less sense this question makes.
While Dr. Spittler shed tears this morning over the packing of his library, I think that he was authentic in lamenting over the ending moments of his professional work, but I also feel that there may have been more behind those tears. Maybe those tears also represented a shift that scares many and is being ushered in by a new generation of those who are now caring for one of humanities most precious of resources, information.
Mini Putt
1 comment:
The tears may be sensitivity to the end of shared joys of service now ended and a lonliness for those interchanges. It could be awareness of the end of a lifetime of giving. Or, too, it may be response to a very real awareness of the current processes that collect that precious resource for the "new world" and OFTEN throws out the past as though there is nothing to be learned from the past. This is truly a mistake...we are indebted to those who go before us...the likes of Luther, Wycliff, Nguen, Lewis, too many to name.
There is a joy in the texture of a book. There is a closeness to the origin that is lacking, at least for me, in looking at a screen, printed in a common font, that goes away with a flick of the mouse. There is a strength and permenancy (to a point) in the fabrics and papers by which the words come to us.
Perhaps too there is an error in thinking for we who love books... do they become precious? The written word does have it's place. So too the net! God Bless the variations. luv GM
Post a Comment