“Each Advent, I do something unusual; I reread King Lear. Revisiting Shakespeare’s dark exploration of the dissolution of family, friendship, personality, and nation has become part of my annual rhythm. That might seem odd, particularly during this most difficult of years: With short winter days, and so much national, international, and personal pain all around us, who needs more darkness? As a Christian, I do.”

(Mark Labberton, from this episode)

In this Conversing Short, Mark Labberton shares about his annual ritual of re-reading William Shakespeare’s King Lear, a practice to see darkness as well as see light. Mark reads from his December 23, 2020 essay in The Atlantic, and comments on King Lear’s dark exploration of the dissolution of family and friendship, personality, and nation.

Here Mark reflects on Advent as a season of waiting in the dark, before the light of Incarnation is known and beheld; the vulnerability and struggle of the human condition we all share—and King Lear’s ability to reveal it; the value of staring directly into the darkness; and importance of finding a way to look into the darkness without being overwhelmed by it.

About Conversing Shorts

“In between my longer conversations with people who fascinate and inspire and challenge me, I share a short personal reflection, a focused episode that brings you the ideas, stories, questions, ponderings, and perspectives that animate Conversing and give voice to the purpose and heart of the show. Thanks for listening with me.”

About Mark Labberton

Mark Labberton is the Clifford L. Penner Presidential Chair Emeritus and Professor Emeritus of Preaching at Fuller Seminary. He served as Fuller’s fifth president from 2013 to 2022. He’s the host of Conversing.

Show Notes

• “Why I Read King Lear Each Advent,” by Mark Labberton, The Atlantic, December 23, 2020
• “Each Advent, I do something unusual; I reread King Lear. Revisiting Shakespeare’s dark exploration of the dissolution of family, friendship, personality, and nation has become part of my annual rhythm. That might seem odd, particularly during this most difficult of years: With short winter days, and so much national, international, and personal pain all around us, who needs more darkness? As a Christian, I do.”
• “ Paying attention provokes and distills our humanity. But our distractibility is relentless, especially today, and it may be exceeded only by our capacity for denial.”
• The vulnerable pulse and impulse of being human
• “ My soul trembles as King Lear names and exposes human greediness for love, combustibly combined with the treacherousness of our own self interest. It all hits rather too closely to home, speaking not just to Shakespeare's time but to ours as well, speaking not just to Lear's struggles but to our own.”
• The shocking immediacy of King Lear, still felt 400 years later
• Hearkening back to the darkness of the COVID-19 pandemic
• “Resilient, sacrificing beauties of being human”
• Collective groaning, lament, and grief
• Seeing our troubles acutely, undistracted by hope
• ”The waiting and the darkness begin to give way to hope. And then Christmas is here.”
• “ We need to find a way to look into the darkness without being overwhelmed by it. To be able to stare in safety. Which brings me back to Lear. Being absorbed in the darkness of that story has taught me to breathe in the presence of darkness in our story. In other words, Lear helps me see, feel, and measure life differently.”

Production Credits

Conversing is produced and distributed in partnership with Comment Magazine and Fuller Seminary.