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I speak, of course, of the sun — that blazing orb some 90 million miles yonder, which in our time of health consciousness (read: hysteria) has come to be seen as a menace. The fear of the sun, especially in our part of the world, has become extreme and stark. Many humans dare not walk beneath it without wearing a hat and sunscreen to boot, in the hope of warding off cancerous death rays. These people would no sooner stretch out beneath the sun than beneath the wheels of a bus. Whereas early humans feared that an angry sun might blink off and sought to appease through sacrifice, moderns hear the expression "darkness at noon" and reply: If only! This of course is a terrible mental affliction. The sun, after all, is no bit player in human existence. We couldn't get by without it. To live in fear and distrust of the sun is to be estranged from the universe we live in. If you happen to be white, this fear also leaves you looking like a splotched ghost your entire life, which can be very ugly indeed. A change may be heading our way, however. A new study indicates that the sun can actually protect us from various cancers, including that of the colon, breast, ovaries, and — for the gents — the prostate. Catching some rays, it seems, might soon be seen as an anti-cancer strategy. This not exactly a new idea. It first came to light a few decades back when two epidemiologists noticed the highest death rates from colon cancer were in northern states, which as those of us here in the south know are sun-deprived regions. It was thus conjectured that these higher cancer rates were possibly the result of low Vitamin-D levels. Because the body gets 90 percent of this vitamin from the sun, a link was suggested. Later, scientists linked low Vitamin D to prostate cancer. The news gets better. This spring, researchers reported "the chances of dying from breast, colon, ovarian, and prostate cancer were reduced by 10 to 27 percent for people in the sunniest areas, compared with those to the north, based on death certificates in 24 states," according to a story in the sallow New York Times. "The evidence is provocative, but it's not ironclad," warned Donald Trump — the chairman of medicine at the Roswell Park Cancer Institute in Buffalo. As the story further explains: "Ultraviolet rays prompt the skin to produce a biologically inert form of Vitamin D, which is then converted into an active form, as a hormone called calcitriol. This hormone apparently controls cell growth and maturation and can inhibit cancerous growths. Those of us who do take the sun have always known the orb is our friend. It browns our skin while baking various poisons and vapors from our bodies. It also enlivens our souls. I recall a line the old genius Julian Simon included in a book about his fight against depression, when he spoke of the beautiful and life-affirming sensation of feeling the sun on his back. We know, of course, that overindulgence can cost one one's hide, and perhaps life as well. We also know that from time to time our old friend errs by rising too early in the morning. All told, however, we have remained true friends through thick and thin, lambasting the phobics when necessary and catching rays whenever possible. News that the latter may have helped us keep our guts, etc. free of cancerous tumors is merely a bonus. We do hope that if the findings are given further confirmation this good news will have deep societal impact. A changed perspective won't come easy. Let us be frank: When was the last time anyone in a position of responsibility actually said something nice about the sun? Instead, it's always a warning or a complaint. One senses a fear that sun advocacy might lead to a class-action lawsuit; the shysters can't sue the sun itself, but in today's climate who would be surprised by a suit against suntan-oil companies, beach resorts, and perhaps George Hamilton IV and other prominent sun-worshippers? Fear of the sun is
also part of a larger habit of seeing danger everywhere: hamburgers, cigars,
cocktails, salt, ice-cream cones, cellular telephones, coffee, power lines,
electric blankets, hairdryers, internal combustion engines, water taps,
supersized candy bars, strangers, uncles, priests, artificial sweeteners
— don't get me started. Those who fear a Snickers Bar may have a
hard time making peace with the sun. — Dave Shiflett is coauthor of Christianity on Trial. |
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f one waits
long enough, the old saying goes, enemies become friends (and friends
may become enemies). We are concerned with the first part of the maxim,
for it seems that one of contemporary man's most-feared antagonists is
suddenly in danger of being given a new appreciation.
