If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?
You’ve heard this philosophical nugget of a question, yes? It is mind-bending and whimsical, but, in truth, it begs deep consideration: If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one to hear it, does it make a sound? In other words—and let this question sink in—Does the reality of something depend upon us?
Human beings actually ask ourselves this question from almost the moment of birth. And at that earliest stage of development, we decidedly believe that, yes, the reality of something does depend upon our presence. This is the whole idea behind the game peekaboo. Dr. Caspar Addyman of the University of London says that, when the parent hides around a corner, the baby believes the parent has truly disappeared, blinked out of existence, and thus the relief and laughter when the parent reappears.[i]
Last month, the Rector’s Book Club read the most unusual Terry Pratchett novel Hogfather. Pratchett was an enormously popular fantasy fiction writer of dozens of novels, and Hogfather is as bizarre as any of them. In the book, the Hogfather, a jolly Razorback-looking fellow in a red suit who is essentially Santa Claus in Pratchett’s Discworld, has disappeared as a result of a wicked magical effort by the novels villains to make children disbelieve in him. As the children disbelieve in the Hogfather in the story, the Hogfather ceases to exist.
This creates a crisis in the world that runs so deep that even the personification of Death himself tries to fix it. Like a character in a Tim Burton movie, the skeletal Death dresses in Santa Claus robes, takes the reins of the Hogfather’s sleigh, and begins jetting across the world delivering presents, all in the desperate attempt to make the world’s children believe in the Hogfather again and thus bring the Hogfather back into existence.
Throughout most of the novel, the reader thinks this is merely a whimsical tale, but toward the end Death explains to his granddaughter (in this story Death has a granddaughter) why it all matters. Children’s belief that the Hogfather (i.e., in Santa Claus) is real, Death explains, actually makes it real. Children’s belief that there is someone who cares for them all, regardless of who they are, where they are from, who their families are, actually creates the Christmas spirit of generosity and care that otherwise wouldn’t exist. Belief in Christmas wills Christmas into being.
And most importantly, this early insistence that the Hogfather is real teaches children as they grow and mature to insist that other things, even more important things, are real: Duty, Justice, Mercy.[ii] Death says to his granddaughter, “Take the universe and grind it down to the finest sieve and then show me one atom of justice, one molecule of mercy. And yet you [humans] act as if there is some ideal order in the world, as if there is some rightness to the universe…”[iii]
In the story, Death is not saying that these ideals are fake or pretend, but Death is saying that they exist—things such as duty, justice, and mercy exist—only if and because human beings believe in them.
Things such as duty, justice and mercy exist only if and because human beings believe in them.
Terry Pratchett is not making up this notion for his fantasy novel. Philosophers and sociologists since Jean Paul Sartre have long talked about what they call the “social imaginary.” The social imaginary is the collective world of virtues and values we hold most dear, that run so deep that we assume them without even reflecting on them. The social imaginary is both the real world, and only exists because we believe it to be true.
That’s the end of today’s Creative Fiction and Philosophy 101 class. And, it brings us to Christ the King Sunday, the Last Sunday after Pentecost—today—when Christians are invited particularly to imagine what it would mean, what it does mean, for Christ to be king, for Christ to reign in our world. So, to return to a variation of the question I’ve been posing all morning…If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? If children cease to believe in Santa Claus, is the spirit of Christmas real? If the world does not live and act as if Christ is king, then is Christ king?
The portion of Matthew 25 we read today gives us the barometer as we look out at the world: Are the hungry fed? Are the naked clothed? Are strangers welcomed? Are the imprisoned comforted? Does anyone really, truly believe in duty, justice, mercy? Does Christ reign?
To observe the world and ask those questions could lead, and indeed for some does lead, to despondency, cynicism, and a contention that Christ is not in any way king. The social imaginary of our world seems to privilege self-interest over duty, power over justice, and vicious tribalism over mercy.
But to look at the state of the world and render that conclusion is, for us, the wrong way around. Rather, our starting point must be like that of the first disciples who witnessed the Resurrection, or of children, who discover their profound ability to will things into being.
The social imaginary of our world is not unalterable. We are empowered to revise it, shift it, renew it so that the virtues and values by which we live are transformed. This is why, throughout the Gospels, Jesus encourages his disciples with images of salt and yeast, small things that change the taste or rise of the whole. Like the single child who waits upon St. Nicholas with open-hearted wonder and belief, willing the spirit of Christmas into being, our lived dedication to the Gospel—our feeding of the hungry, our clothing of the naked, our welcome of the stranger—makes the Gospel real in our world and ushers in Christ’s reign.
All that is to say, Christ becomes king, when we first believe that he is so. Christ becomes king when we first become subjects. Duty, justice, mercy become real in our world when we first commit to living dutifully, and justly, and mercifully.
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? If no one is there to follow, is Christ the king? But we do follow, and through our faith and discipleship, we become the salt, the yeast, that will renew our social imaginary, that will transform the whole world. It is staggering, the blessed responsibility God bestows upon us. We proclaim Christ as king; we live as subjects of Christ; we follow Christ’s Gospel command as the directing force behind all our discernment and decision. And through our belief, duty extends, mercy grows, and justice for all God’s children becomes real. Long live the king! Hallelujah, hallelujah!
[i] https://www.bbc.com/news/health-24553877
[ii] Pratchett, Terry. Hogfather, 380-381.
[iii] Pratchett, 381.
God in the Midst of the City 