The Pilgrim’s Protest

By Gina Russo

In the fall of 2006 years of unresolved doubt began to surface and I found myself trapped in layers of uncertainty and fear. I reached for books like lifelines laying on the torrential surface of my struggle. Having a similar church background to Philip Yancey, I checked out a stack of his books from the library and gobbled their contents. The insights were refreshing and I found myself relating to his childhood a great deal. On a whim, I sent an email to him via his publishing company, Zondervan. Weeks went by without response and I assumed he was fairly busy with his own life.

On a particularly dark day, my roommate and I attended a performance of Handel’s Messiah at the Koger Center. For those not familiar with the production, Messiah is a brilliant classical arrangement with aria’s that are essentially Scripture. I heard the ancient prophecies from beautiful voices but found myself frustrated. “I don’t know what this means or why I should care,” I thought. As we drove home my roommate began quoting John Donne’s Holy Sonnets and we analyzed their meaning. I wanted God to batter my heart, but didn’t know where to find him.

As we came back into our dormitory, I decided to check my email, and much to my surprise discovered one from Yancey’s personal email address. The contents were precisely what I needed to hear, and I sat down on my bed and sobbed.

A few months later I discovered that Yancey’s favorite classical piece is Messiah, and one of his favorite author’s was Donne. I have no doubt that the events of that night were entirely God directed, His way of getting my attention.

When Yancey came to CIU I approached him to ask about a possible interview. I began to share with him the story of the previous semester, but before I could give all the details he interrupted and said, “That was you?” I nodded and went on to explain the events surrounding that night. Yancey informed me that he had a copy of the email to remind him why he does what he does.

When Yancey came to CIU I approached him to ask about a possible interview. I began to share with him the story of the previous semester, but before I could give all the details he interrupted and said, “That was you?” I nodded and went on to explain the events surrounding that night. Yancey informed me that he had a copy of the email to remind him why he does what he does.
His two day speaking engagement was marked by love, grace, and good humor. I was intimidated to interview one of journalism’s greats, but Mr. Yancey was comfortable and unassuming. Two days after his speaking engagement I received another email in which he informed me that I and members of The Pilgrim’s Protest staff were in his prayers. On Wednesday, April 4th I met with Yancey outside the Rossi Student Center to discuss fame, CIU, spirituality, and the life of the writer.

Why do you come back to CIU?

“I feel some loyalty to the school because I met my wife here [laughter], I began my faith journey here in a sense, and I also feel a sense of responsibility to people who are like me When I was a student, I found that almost all the chapel speakers talked to the ‘good kids’ who are nodding their heads, who just think this is wonderful to soak in. And as I mentioned I was not one of those people [laughter] and nobody in chapel addressed themselves to me. So I like to come back and address myself to the people like me. I may irritate the 80% of ‘good kids’, but hey, they get it all the time.

What are some practical steps towards nourishing the internal life?

It’s relatively easy for me because most of my life is internal. As a writer, that’s what we do—we observe, we sort things out. And I’m mostly nourished by writers because reading is a safe place where I’m in charge. Nobody’s yelling at me, nobody’s manipulating me, and I can shut it off at any moment. People here talk about ‘quiet time’ and I would say that’s one spiritual discipline that’s really worth nourishing and people have different ways of filling that time. You have to intentionally preserve it because all of life tries to fill us with noise, whether it’s iPods, MP3 players, CNN or whatever your thing is. As soon as people get in the car or as soon as they get in houses they turn on noise. One thing I learned is that God doesn’t force Himself on us. He doesn’t twist arms, and so we have to make a space to get to know God. That’s something that I would recommend that students preserve from their time here. It’s an external here, but it’s an important internal for the rest of your life.

If reading is a safe thing, would you say writing is a vulnerable thing?

Yes, it certainly was early on. After awhile it doesn’t feel so vulnerable. It feels more vulnerable to my wife than to me because she thinks, “You’re exposing yourself.” But when I write I do it alone. I’m exposing myself to myself, and then other people just happen to be looking in. That’s their issue. It doesn’t bother me. When I’m writing if I start thinking, “Well, how will this make me look?” that’s bad. If I think instead, “Is this true, is this accurate, does it truly reflect who I am,” that’s all I can be responsible for. And how other people judge me or handle that, that’s really their issue. Over the years I’ve learned that this [writing] is what I can control. I can control whether or not I write with authenticity and integrity. And the vulnerable part, that’s really more other people’s issue, than my issue.

Unless you’re an editor of a student newspaper of course, and then you are very vulnerable.

How do you keep yourself from believing your own hype?

It’s not nearly as much of a problem for any writer as for say, a musician when you’re up on stage every day with people throwing their underwear at you and screaming. The writing act is always done in isolation. The fact that people say, “Your last book was so great,” feels good, but that doesn’t really help me with the book I’m doing right now. The fear, the terror is always there, and the more successful you are the more the sense of terror increases because you have to live up to that standard. The ‘celebrity’ part of my life is such a small, unreal part of my life. I feel like I live most of my life in a cave and then every once in awhile I’ll go outside and there are these lights and people interviewing me and I blink and perform and then I go back into the cave. The cave is where the real world is for the writer, or any artist I suppose. And the other thing I try to do is be around people who have never heard of me. So I’m part of a reading group in Denver that consists of University of Chicago alumni. None of them have ever read any of my books or have heard of me, and they would say, “Christian writer? Should we allow him in this group?” It’s really a different temptation than say for someone like Chuck Swindoll or Max Lucado who are deeply immersed in Christian culture. Their answer to that question would be completely different from mine.