2012: RD12 by Motte Brown on 11/17/2009 at 1:54 PM
If you want to enjoy Hollywood's latest disaster flick, 2012, you may have to suspend your disbelief more than usual. Also this week, Bob and Cheryl talk about the mildly entertianing The Box and the raunch fest Pirate Radio.
In a sense, I am my stories. And because we're all brimming with stories of our own, we love to hear other people's, too. They entertain. They inspire. They teach -- even if we don't always realize what they're teaching.
Jesuit psychotherapist Anthony de Mello wrote that "the shortest distance between a human being and Truth is a story" -- which may explain why the Bible is full of them.
So begins (well, kinda -- I deleted a couple of his first few sentences) the first article in Paul Asay's 8-part series that, as he wrote in a related blog, "explains why we at Plugged In do what we do."
It's a great intro to the topic of cinematic storytelling, something I brought up a couple of months ago in "Bedtime Stories." Over the next several weeks this octalogy is going to provide some fascinating food for thought and discussion.
Check out Paul's article. Then either leave a comment here or over on the Plugged In blog. If you've got a question specifically for Paul, and you'd rather not leave a comment, you can e-mail him directly at letters@pluggedinonline.com.
So it’s Halloween again. I haven’t thought much about the day since my kids outgrew it about 10 years ago. Still, I wonder if it’s me or if the holiday has changed.
When I was a kid, the entire neighborhood swarmed with kids in costumes, going from door to door with plastic pumpkins to hold their treats. Don’t go to that house. She’s giving out RAISINS! We used to really go all out on our costumes, too. One year my brother was The Mummy and wrapped himself from head to toe in strips from a cotton sheet. (This mummy was a slight shade of pink, since that’s the only old sheet my mom would let him use.) He started to unravel midway through the night and went home early because he’d become so frustrated. I was a mad scientist that year, complete with rubber bald wig, lab coat, and two beakers of water and dry ice to simulate a frothing mad-scientists experiment.
Even though there are a fair number of kids in my neighborhood, few go door to door anymore. I think it’s a combination of paranoid parents and the fact that shopping malls now offer indoor trick-or-treating. It might also be because a lot of people just turn out all the lights and don’t answer the door. The one constant, though, is the late-night ring of the doorbell, just as you’re getting ready for bed. At the door is a group of sullen teenagers who don’t even bother with a costume and just stand there with a pillowcase, expecting freebies.
My dad didn’t carve mere jack-o-lanterns with triangular eyes and a crude mouth with square teeth. He used a razor to shave layers from the thick pumpkin skin, forming a complex three-dimensional face, kind of like this, except he’d use paint and dye to bring out the details. No one puts out jack-o-lanterns anymore since so many wind up being vandalized. But they do something quite unknown when I was young: decorating their entire front yard in a Halloween theme, each trying to out-Griswold the other with fake tombstones, ghosts, and assorted monsters.
The other thing different is schools now have Halloween parties, although I wonder how long that will continue. When I was a kid we didn't have Halloween parties; we had Christmas parties. Go figure.
Even adult Halloween parties seem to be a thing of the past. I did attend one when I worked in Washington, DC. A colleague, a sci-fi buff, came in a Star Trek uniform. It was a red shirt, and he’d burned a perfectly circular hole through the uniform’s midsection. “It’s a phaser blast,” he explained. “I’m the expendable crew member!”
Up to this point I’ve deliberately avoided the entire subject of whether Christians should even participate in Halloween. Focus on the Family takes no position on the topic, since some constituents see no harm in their kids playing dress-up and having fun so long as nothing occult or Satanic is involved. Others think that we should stay as far away as possible from anything that smacks of Satanism or witchcraft. Yet others see the opportunity to drop a few evangelistic tracts or copies of Clubhouse into the bucket along with the candy. (And don’t even think about not including candy if you choose to do this.) Still others use the occasion to have a Harvest Festival at their church. That’s what my church did some years. It’s good fun, good food, with a generous dose of square-dancing thrown in.
So what about you? Any good or bad Halloween memories? Do you celebrate it at all? Why or why not?
PluggedIn.com's Bob Waliszewski reviews new releases Amelia and Astro Boy as well as a not-so-new release that's tearing it up at the box office, Paranormal Activity.
Like me, you may be looking forward to seeing the film Where the Wild Things Are. I remember the story well from my childhood. In "Deep Down, We're All Wild Things," Tyler Huckabee explores the redemptive themes of the story by comparing the plight of its main character, Max, to all of us.
In the story, Max gets in trouble. And so, as a means of dealing with what he views as unfairness, he gets mad and goes to the place where the wild things are. Huckabee writes:
We’re familiar with that. We’re in the same place that poor Max finds himself: a world that we just can’t quite seem to get the hang of. We’re being fired from our jobs. We’re being hassled by our landlords. We’re being dumped by our significant others. And then there’s God, and He’s the one I’ve sort of been leading up to.
God’s pretty easy to get mad at. The world’s gone all wrong, life is impossibly difficult, He seems to be the one to blame. Maybe you’ve given your all to Jesus, only to find that He wants a little bit more. Maybe you think you’ve got a better way figured out, one without all those pesky rules, but you just can’t shake the feeling that God’s sitting on your shoulder, insisting that His way is better. You’re mad, ready to run away, but it’s impossible.
Sometimes I've just been mad about the way life is going. I don't necessarily blame God, but I wonder why He's allowed certain things. Huckabee writes:
We’ve felt Max-like fury at the forces in our lives, be they personal, professional or divine. We fantasize about being in charge, and getting the unmitigated approval of our peers, bosses, professors, pastors and crushes. And, of course, our sometimes boundless rage at God, who deals out disappointment and discouragement so liberally. We snarl, like the Psalmist, “Why do the wicked prosper?” We pitch fits like prodigals, running away and indulging our wild sides.
It’s an act God probably expects from us, given how often it happens. He’s been dealing with His angry servants since the very beginning. In the Bible, God fields the rage of such giants as David, Job, Jonah and Moses with patience -- never shushing their complaints with any sniper-like lightning bolts from the sky. He listens; He lets them have their say. “The LORD is like a Father to His children,” the Psalmist says in Psalm 103:13-14, “tender and compassionate to those who fear Him. For He knows how weak we are, He remembers we are only dust.”
This article illuminates a truth: the propensity for us to run to something we can control when we don't like what God is doing. Just like Max runs from his mother's discipline because he believes she is being unfair, we sometimes run from God's way because we don't like it ... or trust that He has our best interest in mind. But as one friend told me, "the illusion that I'm in control or doing my own thing is just that ... an illusion." Ultimately the journey away from our loving Father yields emptiness. Sendak’s tale illustrates this.
Max doesn’t set up shop with the wild things. He tames them and goes home. Supper’s still hot, mom still loves him and everything’s the way he left it. His imagination has bled out the anger, and his fantasy world hasn’t lived up to the real thing. He’s had his tantrum, and he’s calling it a day. Max’s return journey is the most important point of his trip. He knows when it’s time to move on.
As the book says (its only words): "The king of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all." And that's really what we all want.
Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. —Psalm 73:25
Being recently married, I am naturally interested in a good TV wedding. And so I couldn't resist recording Jim and Pam's wedding (from NBC's show "the Office") even though I've only seen a couple episodes of the show.
Anytime we talk about TV shows, we're bound to step on toes, but I wanted to make some observations about Jim and Pam's wedding because, quite frankly, it was particularly horrid. Not what I expected from a TV show that millions of viewers tune in to weekly.
First of all, I was shocked by the lack of preciousness surrounding what is a precious thing: marriage. As a recent bride, I tuned in hoping for some romance, but the most romantic line (teased repeatedly in the preview) was uttered by the groom in his toast: "I think deep down I always knew I was waiting for my wife." Aw. That was sweet ... but that's where the warm fuzzies ended.
As far as I can tell, "the Office" follows the lives, personality quirks and interpersonal dynamics of people who work in a typical, boring office in everytown, Pennsylvania. These individuals exhibit varying levels of dysfunction -- primarily social. Shot in the style of a documentary, the show explores the inner workings of the office and makes viewers privy to all its gossip.
So Jim and Pam's wedding was more about the other characters in the office than about them. One plot point was the fact that Pam was five months pregnant and was trying to keep the fact quiet because of her old-fashioned grandmother. At one point (after the beans were spilled), the office boss stood up and delivered a monologue on the virtues of unmarried women having consensual sex and how it needed to be celebrated. Another subplot followed the antics of the single men from the office trying to score with women and the boss hitting on the mother of the bride.
I once heard a professor say that you could learn a lot about people in the culture by looking at popular TV shows. He used the TV show "Friends" as an example and said that the show's popularity betrayed the culture's desire for a close-knit community where there was always a friend who cared about you and a group to share life with. Insightful, I thought.
So after wasting the good part of an hour watching "the Office" wedding, I began to wonder what this show could tell me about the culture. One thing that occurred to me is that "the Office" is about narcissism. It is an exaggeration of the idea that when it comes down to it, we're all just looking out for ourselves. While selfishness is a fact about every human; it's funny to watch it played out to such an extreme. It makes you feel a little better about yourself because -- well -- you're not THAT self-absorbed. Losers.
Even at their friends' wedding, the members of the office continue to only think about themselves. The bachelors are all about about meeting (and sleeping with) someone, the office gossips are jealous and bitter that they're not the ones walking down the aisle, the boss wants to be sure to get attention by making an unwanted toast. That's why the marriage felt stripped of its preciousness. Marriage is about complete deference to the needs of another, which was completely out of place in the context of this show.
In the end, the show attempted to make the point that the wedding was about Jim and Pam and they needed to just separate from their selfish, dysfunctional office mates and make it "their day." (At one point the bride said, "If this is our day, why did we invite all these people?") But even this weak salvage attempt failed to inspire. If these people did, in fact, exist, how are Jim and Pam to get a good start to marriage surrounded by such a horrible group of "friends?" Apart from the couple's care and compassion for one another, I struggled to find anything redeeming in this much-anticipated TV union.
From what I understand, FOX's new dramedy Glee is pretty popular with the young adult demographic. I too was drawn to its quirky premise about a high school glee club. I mean, who can resist a seemingly innocent coming of age plot about nerdy teens?
Oh, it's quirky alright. And mildly entertaining in a High School Musical sort of way. But this show is anything but innocent. In fact, it can be pretty raunchy. It also mocks every family value in the book, particularly marriage and abstinence.
Get this, the producers actually want the viewer to hope the main character's marriage breaks up. And of course it's the president of the abstinence club who get's pregnant. Lame.
At first blush, this creation of producer Ryan Murphy (Nip/Tuck, Popular) appears to be a lampoon of Disney’s High School Musical movies and Fox’s own American Idol. But upon closer inspection, the musical dramedy Glee also shows signs of incorporating sleazy elements from Desperate Housewives and Two and a Half Men.
Don't be fooled. The worldview behind Glee is as liberal as it gets. I wouldn't be surprised if the writers consulted Planned Parenthood for plot lines.
After last night's episode, I vowed I would never make my wife sit through that one again. I'm not kidding when I say that Glee grieves the spirit.
The sordid David Letterman story is revolting on many levels. So are many celebrity scandals, and there never seems to be a shortage of them. Yet this one somehow feels a little extra-grimy, at least to me. But why?
Is it the fact that all these women worked for Letterman? Is it the fact that all this went on for such a long time, as he kept betraying his "long time girlfriend" (now wife)? Is it his familiarity -- the fact that he's someone you can see on TV every day, even if you don't go looking for his show?
Yes, yes and yes. But there's something more. It's the way we've been conditioned to respond to this sort of thing by people like, well, David Letterman.
Letterman has built much of his career on cynical snarkiness. He eats up scandals when politicians or other celebrities are involved: To him, they're comic gold. A lot of people will now be struck by his hypocrisy. But that should concern us less than our complicity. How many of us have watched Dave smirkingly zing his targets and snickered right along with him? Even many of us who don't like him haven't been above laughing when he went after someone we liked even less. (Exhibit A: Bill Clinton. I'm guilty as charged.)
If we follow Letterman form, we'll just transition from smirking with Dave to smirking at him. But cases like his -- and the cases of people whose sins he's exploited -- should feel like tragedies, not comedies. They should make us feel sad, not superior; appalled, not amused.
Let's try breaking the cycle here. Letterman's case calls for sincere confession of sins, repentance and forgiveness. Even now, it's not clear that Letterman thinks much in those terms, or that he'll be meaningfully humbled in the long term. ("I'll be darned," he joked with his audience, "Dave had sex.") But for the rest of us, let's work to react not as Dave has taught us, but as Christ has. And that includes praying someday Dave will react that way too.
I can't tell you how many books I've bought that I've never read. Put it this way: It's enough to make me feel guilty about buying any new ones. So it's rare that I actually read a book twice, let alone more than that.
Ah, but The Screwtape Letters -- now that's an exception. I must've read it half a dozen times. C.S. Lewis' tale of senior devil Screwtape's lessons in temptation to his nephew Wormwood changed my life. It awakened me to all kinds of ways Satan finds to make me stumble: Thirty years after I first read it, I still find myself starting to fall into one of those traps, then recognizing it, stepping back, smiling and saying "Nice try, Wormwood."
So when Ashley asked who wanted to promote the new Screwtape Letters audio drama from Focus on the Family, I stuck my hand up and said "Me! Me! Me!" Or words to that effect.
The broadcast won't be out for a few weeks yet, but check out a preview right now and see how much fun the Focus radio theater team had putting this together. Notice, BTW, that the actor playing Screwtape (Andy Serkis) is the same one who played Gollum in the Lord of the Rings movies.
This team always does top-notch work. See for yourself, and let's get a good buzz going.
Hosts Bob Waliszewski and Cheryl Wilhelmi discuss the top movies this week, including Tim Burton's "9," the murder-mystery chiller "Whiteout," and the new-to-DVD "Henry Poole Is Here."
We're excited to announce the premiere of our new movie review for young adults called Reel Discernment featuring Plugged In's Bob Waliszewski and Cheryl Wilhelmi. Each week Bob and Cheryl will give us a quick look into what we can expect from the new releases. Here is this week's description:
I think there is a difference between not being on Facebook and being anti-Facebook. I am the former, but not the latter.
Actually, that's not true. I am not the former either. I did join Facebook two years ago in response to a youth group reunion page. But my page has sat empty and lonely ever since. (Truth be told, I didn't realize Facebook had created a page -- just thought I had gained access to the youth group page.)
So, yes, I have let the phenomena that is Facebook pass me by. But I am not a foaming anti-Facebook-ite. I really can see the draw. There have even been times when I have had Facebook-envy. I am, without question, the last one in my circle of acquaintance to get the latest news.
Them: "Oh, didn't you know that she closed on her house/is going out-of-town this weekend/has taken up knitting?" Me: "Oh, no, I didn't know that." Them (questioningly and ... or am I paranoid? ... a little accusingly): "But it's on her Facebook page."
I have even, I think, risked some professional street cred. Boundless has friended me several times. Each time, I think I hear Ted's voice, "Heather, get on Facebook and into the 21st century!"
But it appears that by missing the tide of Facebook popularity, I may now be on the cusp of the latest trend: leaving Facebook. I love going from a dinosaur to hip without any effort.
According to a recent New York Times article, "Facebook Exodus", "while people are still joining Facebook and compulsively visiting the site, a small but noticeable group are fleeing — some of them ostentatiously." Like one user who got sick of the commercialization and corporate regulation and now sells t-shirts that encourage others to "Shut Your Facebook!" The young man told the Times:
"The more dependent we allow ourselves to become to something like Facebook — and Facebook does everything in its power to make you more dependent — the more Facebook can and does abuse us. It is not ‘your’ Facebook profile. It is Facebook’s profile about you.”
Others are leaving because "Facebook seemed to claim perpetual ownership of users’ contributions to the site." Still others, according to the article, got bored, felt that their "real" friendships were suffering, or got a little antsy about "guarding" their online persona.
For me, it was simply pre-addictive intentionality. I have enough of a struggle regulating my online time. I decided, for me, best never to go there.
But I just added another reason in the last few weeks. It's summed up well by a young lady in the Times article named Caroline Harting who explains why she left the online social site: "Facebook was stalking me."
"One day, on another Web site, she responded to an invitation to rate a movie she saw. The next time she logged on to Facebook, there was a message acknowledging that she had made the rating. “I didn’t appreciate being monitored so closely,” she wrote. She quit."
I feel like Facebook is stalking me too. Two weeks ago, I checked my e-mail to find 12 messages from "friends" who wanted to, well, be my friend. Huh? How did they know to find me? Surely a dozen friends were not just moved by the Spirit to seek me out. The next day: fifteen invites. Now besides getting a little too prideful about how many friends I must have, I was starting to get a little creeped out. A day of investigation later and I found out that "Facebook" (that ironicly faceless entity) was recommending me all over the place.
"Be Heather's friend," it told them. It forgot to mention that I didn't want any.
"Quit!" I cried at my computer screen the next day as I deleted five more requests. "I don't want to be a friend. Leave me alone!" Again, not enough to turn me anti-Facebook but enough to give me the willies and bring flashbacks of that Orwell book I had to read in American Lit.
So, what about you? Are you enjoying Facebook or feeling like some of the people in this article?
One writer told the Times, "I have noticed the exodus, and I kind of feel like it’s kids getting tired of a new toy. Facebook is good for finding people, but by now the novelty of that has worn off, and everyone’s been found.”
It seems some people are tired of being found. And some of us never wanted to be.
I never struggle with watching too much TV in the summer. I'm fairly picky about what I watch and most, if not all, summer programming is just plain bad. However, Fall is right around the corner. And I'm already getting excited about the season premiers of "my shows." Which, I'll confess, is a reflection of an inverted priority ... love of television.
I ran across this blog post from Randy Alcorn which may help as I war against my desire to be entertained. It's a list of ways to "take charge of the television."
1. Keep track of how much time you spend watching. 2. Decide in advance how much TV to watch per week. (e.g. No more than six hours, only two nights or weekends). 3. Use a schedule to choose programs for the week (perhaps at family time)— then stick to your choices. 4. Keep your television unplugged, store it in a closet, and/or put it in a remote part of the house (prevents mindless flip-on). 5. Periodically "fast" from television for a week or a month. Notice the "cold turkey" effects. 6. Choose programs that uplift rather than undermine biblical values. 7. Use the "off" switch freely. If it's wrong and you keep watching, you're saying "I approve."
More,
12. Spend an hour reading Scripture, a Christian book or magazine, or doing a ministry for each hour you watch TV. (It's not enough to get rid of the bad—go out of your way to renew your mind by filling it with the good). 13. Consider dropping cable, Showtime, HBO, or any other service that you determine is importing ungodliness or temptation into your home. 14. If you find you can't control it—or you're tired of the battle—get rid of your television.
I'll add one more of my own,
15. Consider subscribing to a digital recording service (e.g. DVR or TiVo) so you can watch what you want, when you want. That way, you'll always be able to prioritize more worthwhile pursuits when they conflict with your favorite show.
All of Alcorn's suggestions are worth considering. I personally like the challenge of matching the time I spend watching television with time spent reading Scripture, books, or doing ministry. I would love to be able to say I spend as much time in the Word as I do the tube.
Steve and I bought some good (dark) chocolate and a bag of gourmet popcorn at Whole Foods before going to see Julie and Julia. It was a warm-hearted movie full of endearing husbands and wives, realized dreams and of course, delectable food. (Not the kind of film you'd want to share with a bucket of stale, fake-buttered popcorn.) The movie was fun and funny, lighthearted and uplifting. It even had a subplot where Julia Child's equally tall (6 ft. plus) sister meets and marries a man much shorter than she, to the great delight of all concerned. It's a hopeful movie that we all (we went with another couple) enjoyed. Really, aside from a few foul words and one-too-many martinis, it was worth the price of admission.
Which brings me to the real reason for this post. Why on earth did I have to sit through sneak peeks of multiple horribly offensive and shockingly violent upcoming TV shows and movies? I think someone must have grabbed the wrong package of trailers for this audience. I doubt many of the hand-holding married couples out for a night at a foodie movie will get very excited about any of the films they previewed. I doubt they pre-sold any tickets.
It makes me wish Plugged In would preview not only films, but the previews shown before the films. Note to the theaters: I'm not going to the movies anymore. Next time I'll just rent the DVD.
Disclaimer: Boundless had nothing to do with the production of "Hitched or Ditched" on The CW.
"Hitched or Ditched" is a one-hour reality show focusing on couples who are in long-term relationships but have not yet taken that big leap into marriage. Nominated by a friend who believes it's either time for the couple to tie to the knot or break up, each episode features a different couple who accept their friend's proposition to set a wedding date in one week’s time.
Throughout the week leading up to the big day, the couple is put through a series of personalized exercises that test their relationship, all while planning their dream wedding. They may have to confront their problems ranging from mending relationships with future in-laws to dealing with jealousy issues. When the wedding day arrives, the couple will make the final decision - will they tie the knot or call the whole thing off?
This week's episode:
Boston couple Anissa, 22, and Jesse, 31, have been dating for four years and their up-and-down relationship has left them looking for more. When Jesse's brother presents the couple with a surprise invitation to their own wedding, Jesse, a mortgage banker, struggles to convince Anissa's family that his playboy past is behind him, while Anissa, a systems analyst, defends their relationship to a long list of discerning friends and family.
When Jesse gets cold feet the night before the wedding, Anissa questions whether he will ever change his ways. There are five days until the wedding; will they be HITCHED OR DITCHED?
Final Disclaimer: This blog post is not an endorsement of "Hitched or Ditched."
Michael Jackson is dead. I heard it first through a CNN email news alert yesterday only minutes after it was confirmed. I read some of the follow-up stories and tributes, reminisced with coworkers, then drove home to a marathon set of his music being played on local radio.
I didn't cry. Despite being an icon of my generation, MJ sufficiently distanced himself from the public, the press, and, well, reality -- so as to not endear himself personally to many in recent years. It was easy to forget he was still around sometimes.
But I remember him. And I certainly remember his influence on me and my peers. I recall one day in junior high, the day after Thriller was released. One of my classmates walked into choir class at Graham Middle School with a shiny new copy of the album (the LP, of course). She had stood in line hours the night before to purchase it, and now placed the record on a table, still gleaming in its plastic wrapper, as we gathered around to gaze upon it in wonder. I still remember the hush over our circle as we admired Michael's crisp white suit and back-lit frame. He amazed us. And when Thriller went multiplatinum and MTV, Pepsi, Disney and others took MJ's image and shaped it into something otherworldly, we thought he was unstoppable.
But time and life proved otherwise. Fast-forward about 20 years. I was sitting at Focus on the Family, listening to Christian apologist Lee Strobel speak in an employee chapel. Lee looked out over the crowd and issued what I think he called the 1:1:1 Challenge. He asked us all to think of one unsaved person to pray for at 1pm each day, for one minute. I love challenges, and being an overachiever who happens to have many non-Christian friends, I decided to do a 5:5:5. I thought of several friends and family immediately. But I wondered about a fifth. I asked God to help me think of the person whom I believed to be most out of his reach -- someone who, if I was being honest, I didn't think would ever come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. And just like that, into my mind popped Michael Jackson.
And so every day for weeks, then months, then years, I prayed for the salvation of Michael Jackson. I followed him casually in the news, and it never looked good. He got weirder, wilder and more erratic in his behavior. But I continued to pray. Because that's what God called me to do.
As of today, I have no idea where Michael Jackson stood spiritually at the time of his death. But God knows. And God will decide what He does with Michael's soul. It may sound cliche, but it's devastatingly true: The King of Pop will be called to give an account to the King of Kings.
Friends called me yesterday, and, knowing my prayer connection to MJ, asked me if I'm OK. I am. For my part, I extend my sympathies to Jackson's family, friends and fans. And I'm going to keep praying. Because the power that was Michael Jackson was real, especially to a pop-loving girl in the 80s.
But the power that is Jesus Christ is greater -- great enough to snatch souls from the fires of hell. And it is this power that gives me life. And it gives me hope for that next person I'll be called to pray for. I can't wait to find out who it'll be.
According to this blurb in Variety, Facebook is coming to a theater near you.
Columbia Pictures is in advanced talks with David Fincher to direct "The Social Network," the Aaron Sorkin-scripted film for Columbia Pictures about the formation of Facebook.
The film will focus on the evolution of Facebook from its 2004 creation on the Harvard campus by sophomore Mark Zuckerberg to a juggernaut with more than 200 million members.
It's interesting that Hollywood chose to make a movie about the formation of Facebook instead of creating a story (or stories) about how the advent of social networking has affected our lives. You know, like what they did with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan in "You've Got Mail."
What about you? Does a movie about the evolution of Facebook sound compelling enough to go see?
Our friendNathan Clark George performed at my church on Sunday. Which was a real treat. He's in Colorado all summer leading worship at Horn Creek retreat center for the various Christian groups coming through.
Yesterday, I noticed that USAToday.com excerpted from a Christianity Today article featuring Nathan on how the recession is affecting Christian artists. Here's what he had to say:
Nathan Clark George has taken minimization of overhead to an extreme — by living with his family in an RV and by playing smaller churches that can't afford big-name acts.
When they know they can't pay you, thankfulness is way up, because they know you're sacrificing, just like they are. People have been very generous. They have handed me a ham, or they've given me broken guitars, since I've blogged about how I like to fix old guitars."
(Check George's blog where he cheerfully recounts some heart-stopping/wallet-sapping misadventures with their van but keeps making music.) George tells CT:
This recession, along with the general industry collapse, is getting rid of the whole stardom mindset, and that's a great thing. If I never make it big and sell 400,000 copies of my CDs, that's just fine. I don't think the Bible says we need stars. The Bible says we need servants."
Nathan and his family of seven (soon to be eight) have been living in their RV for four years, traveling across the country for gigs in
coffee houses and churches. I would think that's taking minimization to the extreme. And probably atypical from other Christian artists, which he acknowledges.
"People in coffee houses appreciate the scripture songs as much as anything else," he says. "I'm just a musician who is willing to go anywhere and sing for anybody. I really don't follow the Christian music scene so I don't know where, or if, I fit in. I just try to be cognizant of where God wants me and try to stay within that framework. Even if it means another year in the RV."
Because the Bible says we need servants, not stars.
With the weekend release of Up, Pixar has once again left toy merchandisers frustrated. Back in April, the New York Timesnoted that while Pixar consistently delivers artistic triumphs, toy retailers haven't appreciated the challenges of selling toys based on movies about rats, rusty robots and now an old man.
But Pete Docter, the director of Up says Pixar believes "that telling the best stories they can is a better way of ensuring a good financial return than mimicking the content that worked for other animated releases." Docter's explanation of Pixar's approach appears in an excellent World magazine review by Megan Basham:
"What makes people want to buy stuff is that they like the story and the characters. The dolls are like a souvenir of the movie, so if you like the movie, you'll want a souvenir, and if you don't, then you won't. Our job as far as merchandising goes is to make the characters in the movie likeable. I look at the character of Carl [the old man] and think, 'Who doesn't want an action figure of an old guy like that?'"
Basham closes the review with an interesting perspective on Pete Docter's method for developing compelling characters:
It is a story's ability to draw people into common experience that Docter, who is like his Pixar colleague Andrew Stanton a Christian, says best allows him to exercise his faith in his work. "There's something of the divine in the way we respond to stories and how we're created as people—that we're so driven by relationship that even when we know we're just looking at a bunch of drawings, we still connect emotionally. In making these worlds I feel closer to God through working out the details of my creation as He must have worked out the details of His creation."
Taking our big kids to Up over the weekend, Candice and I were amazed by how effectively Pixar can connect with audiences of all ages. We laughed and cried and were inspired to be more creative. That's what great stories do.
"Can you read me a story, Papa?" my daughter asks as I tuck her in for the night. Of course I've got time to read VeggieTales or The Velveteen Rabbit or Boz or Belle or something from her Children's Bible.
I try to take my time reading to her, pausing and inflecting words just so to make the story more engaging.
And sometimes we put aside the books and just tell each other stories we've made up from our imaginations. Her favorites: the fairies' magic bouncy house and the mysterious rooms beneath our home that you can only access through a hidden trap door behind the stove.
In our neighborhood, parents are doing the same thing for their kids: giving them a pleasant narrative before they drift off to sleep. Indeed, it's not just our neighborhood, but all around the world, and for as long as people have existed on this planet. Old Testament prophets told stories, Jesus told stories, medieval playwrights told stories.
And it's not just kids who enjoy a good night-night story. I remember reading the missionary biography Bruchko, where the Amazon tribe would gather together in their hammocks at night and tell each other stories by firelight. What great times enjoying creativity, enjoying community, enjoying a story.
If nobody is around to tell you a story, whether a parent or fellow tribesman, you can always pick up a book and read by night light.
Or you can flick on the TV and have someone far away unfold a story for you.
Yeah, all this went through my mind as I read Motte's recent blog post, "Entertainment Cravings." Motte felt embarrassed for having watched three movies over the course of three nights. Though it's likely that his having watched "Paul Blart: Mall Cop" was, as he said, a "waste," I don't think there's anything necessarily wrong with watching TV. It's simply another medium through which to engage a story.
While we've published a few articles challenging us to watch less TV, and to use wisdom as we decide what to watch and how to interpret what we watch, you won't find anything on Boundless saying that TV -- an electronic audio-visual medium -- is by nature shameful.
It's true that too much passive watching can dull our senses. It's true that at times we may find ourselves addicted to it, craving relief from the TV rather than looking to the Holy Spirit for comfort. And it's true that having a friend share a story with you is much more personal and relational. But here's the thing: A story told by the cold tube in the corner is at its most fundamental level simply a story.
So tonight, as you curl up in front of the TV with your chicken wings or Pad Thai, consider that you're engaging in a tradition that spans the globe and spans all of history. You are enjoying a good story before bedtime. And that's something for which to be thankful to our Creator, the greatest storyteller of all.
Last Friday, I became a member of Blockbuster for the first time in five years. Then, over the long weekend, I went on a movie watching binge, renting three movies in three nights.
I'm not proud of it. In fact, I'm quite embarrassed by it. But it happened. Now I'm left to wonder why.
It could be that I really don't watch a lot of movies throughout the year, whether at home or in the theater. So a lot of (seemingly) good ones pile up that are on my radar for one reason or another.
Or it could be that we're fresh off season finale week and all of our television shows are over. So we're going through some entertainment withdrawals.
And I do think I am going through some sort of withdrawal. Which is why this John Piper article caught my attention today. It's an audio transcript with someone asking, "How do I break this hold that entertainment has on my heart?"
Pastor Piper gives some very practical advice involving prayer, immersing yourself in the Bible, joining groups that talk about serious things, and sharing your faith. But this final thought was most helpful, at least to me:
One last suggestion: think about your death. Think about your death a lot. Ask what you'd like to be doing in the season of life, or hours or days, leading up to meeting Christ. I do that a lot these days. I think about the impact of death, and what I would like to be found doing, and how I would prepare to meet him and give an account to him.
Sobering advice. Especially after wasting an hour and a half last night with Paul Blart: Mall Cop. Somehow, I don't think Christ would be amused. I sure wasn't.
I was excited to see a new CD released by The Newsboys today.
Books don't always follow the Tuesday trend, but today also happens to be the day a new book by Dr. Al Mohler was released. It's called The Disappearance of God: Dangerous Beliefs in the New Spiritual Openness. It's inexplicable how Dr. Mohler finds the time to write as much quality stuff as he does...and to say interesting things on Twitter on top of that.
I read your column blog "Blessed By Blessitt" and I was very touched. You really got the point and message. God bless you. Thanks for the profound words. It truly is about Jesus, knowing and following Him and having Jesus change us. May you be blessed in all things. Was refreshing to read your words.
Peace,
Arthur
Thanks for writing, Arthur!
By the way, I'm reminded of one other part of the movie that actually upset me. Tell me what you think:
Arthur recounted his walk through an African country, and how he heard about a retreat center for missionaries in need of rest. He planned to stop there and stay for a couple of days in order to regroup and refresh. Upon arriving, however, the missionary couple in charge told him he couldn't stay, informing him that the rooms were reserved for "real" missionaries, or something to that effect. There was vacancy, and he was willing to pay, but was turned away. The couple was sorry, but they couldn't break "protocol" and welcome him.
Oh my word, I burst into tears in the theater!
The story continued: Arthur started down the hot, dusty road, wondering where he'd stay for the night, and saddened that his much-awaited opportunity for rest was not to be. After walking for a while, he turned around to see a couple chasing him down the road. They caught up and asked him if he was the guy walking around the world with a cross. He said yes, and they replied that they had heard about him, and would he be willing to stay with them for a few days, get some rest and share of his travels? He gratefully accepted, and returned with them to their home, wondering who these kind folks were to take him in and meet his needs.
They were atheists.
So Arthur was turned away by the Christians, and welcomed by the atheists.
Does anyone else just blaze away upon hearing this? I mean really, the point isn't about atheists showing kindness...far from it. My atheist friends are some of the most understanding, generous, caring people I know. My point is that we Christians, who have been given a mandate, spelled out in Scripture<, to care for the needs of others, can still miss the mark so obviously and egregiously. Heaven help us!
Thoughts? Have you become more aware of the needs of hurting people recently? What's gotten you there? How are you intentional in this area? Have you missed an opportunity, or messed it up? What did you learn as a result?
Last night I saw The Cross: The Arthur Blessitt Story. I went to a late showing with two friends. We were the only people in the theater, and it was our final opportunity to see the film before it got bumped today for the likes of X-Men, Ghosts of Girlfriends Past and Obsessed.
I loved it. Not because it had awesome production quality, script, score or cast. It was pretty sketchy on all those fronts. I loved it because I love what I learned from Arthur Blessitt. For those who don't know, Arthur Blessitt spent 40 years carrying a 12-foot wooden cross around the world. He's been in every country, major island group and territory. Along the way he talked to businessmen, drug addicts, terrorists, aborigines and world leaders, passing out tracts, stickers, a hug and a handshake. His message is simple: "Jesus loves you, died for you, and wants a relationship with you." The film shows him praying with people, feeding them, talking to them, and, more importantly, listening to them.
Blessitt carried the cross through war zones and jungles, across freeways and deserts, and around riots, brothels, Muslim army camps and beyond. He summarizes his experience by saying that he was following his call. God told him to preach not to churches, stadiums or via satellite, but to the next person he meets. He did that for forty years, and has some amazing stories to tell. At the end of the film, after quietly recounting everything from miraculous escapes to encounters with the Pope and Yasir Arafat, Blessitt says, "All I've been is God's donkey. I want to lift Jesus up."
What I learned from this film:
1) I am weak. I don't believe God enough. I don't believe his power, his protection, his Word, his love and his desire to draw people unto himself, in his way and in his timing.
2) If we have such a big God, we're silly not to follow him. "There's no safer place to be than in God's call," says Blessitt. And sometimes that call is just one step forward.
3) What does it look like for me to be "God's donkey" and lift him up? What if I redirect all attention from me to the cross? Hm.
4) When we tell people about Jesus, if he wants their hearts to change, they will. It doesn't matter who they are or what situation they're in, or how lame I am in presenting the Gospel. Again, it's not about me. [a theme is surfacing here]
5) Sometimes this reformed girl likes getting a little charismatic. I did the "JESUS" chant with Arthur during the movie, and even shouted "Amen!" a few times. Liberating.
Check out the movie if you get a chance. Find theaters here or wait for it to come out on DVD. I'm sure it will.
Several years ago, I saw a made-for-TV-movie about P.T. Barnum--the famed American showman from the 1800's who founded the circus that would later go on to become the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey circus. I remember very little of it, except for one particular scene.
In the movie, Barnum had heard of a famous Swedish opera singer, Jenny Lind, who had toured with amazing success throughout Europe. Barnum sank every penny he had (and some that was not his) to secure Lind to tour through America, though he'd never even seen her perform.
The scene I remember is when Barnum finally meets Lind backstage before one of her performances. She is small and she is plain and he is clearly shocked at her lack of, shall we say, charisma or star qualities. She recognizes the disappointment in his face and takes him a little bit to task on it. He should have more faith. Appearances aren't always what they seem.
Don't worry, she says finally with a wry, little smile, when I sing I become beautiful.
At that, she walks out on stage. Barnum watches closely and finds himself, like the audience, swept away by her amazing voice. He understands.
I thought of that scene yesterday, as I watched a video clip of Susan Boyle (you can see it here). Boyle is a 47-year-old unemployed woman who decided to compete in the television reality series, Britian's Got Talent.
As Boyle first stands on stage, you can see that the judges are clearly unimpressed. Simon Cowell even rolls his eyes. But, by the time she finishes her rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables, the crowd is on its feet and Cowell is smiling from ear to ear.
I rather doubt if the scene between Barnum and Lind actually took place. But there was a piece of truth in it, I think. Even if we don't meet the world's threshold for physical beauty, we can become beautiful by what we do.
God's Word speaks to that, as well. In both 1 Peter 3 and 1 Timothy 2, Christian woman are encouraged to seek the inner beauty of a "gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight" and to "dress modestly ... with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God."
If that's the kind of beautiful that's of "great worth" to God, then I know where my focus should be. So, today, I will strive to be beautiful, and it has absolutely nothing to do with how I look.
Last night I watched Bolt. After scrolling through the movie choices at my local grocery store, it seemed like Bolt would be the cleanest and most enjoyable. Plus, I like kids movies.
I wish I could say my media choices were always so innocent. While I try my best to stay away from anything trashy, I get into trouble when I go to see a popular chick flick without checking out the Plugged In Online review. Or even sometimes when I let my radio dial stay on a certain station with sketchy lyrics for days.
Today's featured Boundless article conveys a message that is not entirely comfortable to the modern Christian. While I try to avoid overtly "un-Christian" movies, music and TV shows, I relish my freedom in Christ and right to choose. In "What You Watch," author Bob Waliszewski starts with some familiar ground:
A lot has been made of the concept "garbage in equals garbage out." Occasionally we hear warnings about desensitization. Sometimes even the culture worries about media influence (cigarette advertising, for instance). Although these concerns are valid, I think it's more than that. I believe that during repeated exposure to problematic media, a follower of Christ could find his or her fervor for God dwindling.
I have an e-mail from a young adult who explained how this happened in his life, dampening his spiritual excitement and stunting his spiritual growth. His lack of passion wasn't due to dabbling in drugs. It wasn't because of sexual compromises. It wasn't rebellion. But for him, it was his poor entertainment decisions. Sadly, this is the story for many Christians.
The cumulative spiritual effect of poor media choices is something to consider. Here's a weird example. A few years ago, I watched the first three seasons of Gilmore Girls on DVD. (The content in seasons one through three is generally clean, but read the review!) In the series, the mother, Lorelai, 32, and her daughter, Rory, 16, eat sweets and junk food incessantly (and somehow remain perfectly thin). During the months when I was consuming the show, I found myself snacking more and more. The junk food culture of the Gilmore's world began invading my real life.
Think of this in terms of moral values. Watching one movie with questionable content may or may not be damaging to your spiritual life. However, a constant media diet of characters and scenarios that conflict with God's way cannot help but invade your thinking. What about being culturally relevant? Waliszewski writes:
Sadly, I believe we have many among us who use the excuse of becoming culturally relevant to justify their unhealthy media consumption. These are Christians who claim that their knowledge about movies, TV shows, albums, and so on, helps them to witness. But does the exposure to pollution really enhance witnessing abilities?
In my experience, no. I've watched a few movies I shouldn't have, and they've never provided a single opportunity to share Christ's love with someone. In fact, I believe those who do not know Christ sometimes feel comforted by the innocence of a Christ-follower. It is a position on life that stands out. What do you think? How have your media decisions shaped you?
Last week, I was intrigued by a headline in my local paper: "New Take on Bible Stories: NBC's Kings a modern David-and-Goliath tale."
So I started reading the description of this new NBC drama. Evidently, there's a King Silas, the monarch of a fictional kingdom called Gilboa, who takes his orders from a higher power. There's a protagonist, David Shepherd (wonder if his middle name is "the"), who performs a heroic act of saving someone by facing down a tank called ... you guessed it ... Goliath.
"Hmmm," I'm thinking, "a modern day David and Goliath? I wonder how that got by the TV execs?" It didn't take me too long to find out.
"So we drew from a lot of different sources, and we just let the story take us wherever it was going to take us," says creator-executive producer Michael Green. Translation: We like using the familiarity of the Biblical account to draw people in, but have absolutely no intention of honoring it.
Chris Egan, who plays "David Shepherd", seems to realize where a lot of their source material is coming from, but tries to maintain a kind of tolerant-speak: "I think the story is fantastic, of a king with a young guy who he thinks could be a protégé (his son is viewed as weak), could be an enemy, could be a rival, who knows? But he takes a chance with him. And, of course, it's ordained by somebody else. It's got nothing to do with what Silas does in the end. It's far greater forces at work like fate, kismet, Sanskrit, karma, whatever you want, whatever language, whatever religion or whatever you can refer to."
David and Goliath? Fate, Sanskrit and karma? I threw the paper across the breakfast table in disgust.
Then, a few nights ago, I caught a section of the History Channel's new special, Battles BC--David: Giant Slayer. The battle scenes in these specials tend to be a little gory for my taste, but I left it on thinking it might prove interesting. Interesting, it was.
It only took about three minutes for my ears to perk up. The narrator described how David and his six hundred men fled from Saul to the Philistines. Then, (the narrator's voice lowered and darkened) David had to prove his loyalty to the Philistines by raiding Israel villages.
"Wait," I told my working-on-the-computer hubbie, "that's not right!"
Hubbie gave me a "hmmm", but I was busy listening again. Then, the narrator continued, the Philistines made David the king of Israel because they knew they could trust him. So David continued on his next mission-- (dark and lowered voice again) the annihilation of Saul's blood line.
"This is such malarky!" I cried as I ran to look up 1 Samuel. "See? See?" I jabbed at Hubbie, who was by now kindly listening to my David rant. "They say he raided Israel, but he didn't. And they say he tried to annihilate Saul's blood line, but he refused to touch Saul and even gave Mephibosheth Saul's lands!"
I was a tad red in the face by now. "Well, hon," Hubbie asked. "Did you really expect them to tell it correctly?"
And it hit me. I did. I did expect them to tell it correctly. Or to at least acknowledge that "though the Bible says such and such, we simply don't believe it and have come up with our own power narrative." I did expect NBC to at least have some semblance of respect for a Biblical account if they were going to name their main character after a man after God's own heart.
But they didn't. And I realized once again that I won't find God's truth out in the world. Only in His Word.
According to Adobe-sponsored Beet.TV, there's a dramatic shift coming in the way we consume media because more and more young adults are watching videos on their personal computers instead of their televisions.
Online video is replacing television for consumers 25 years and younger as part of a dramatic demographic shift. Watching video on a personal computer is becoming the principal way young adults consume video.
On Tuesday, I spoke with Adobe business development chief Bill Rusitzky. For many young adults 25 and under, there is a greatly diminished interest in watching television as video consumption is shifting dramatically to the PC, he told me. He says that as this population grows, there will be a big change in media consumption patterns over the next ten years.
I can see the appeal. Having our programming whenever and wherever we want it is nice. But it's difficult cozying up to a PC, especially with another person. Trying to position a laptop on your knees so that neither of you pulls a neck muscle isn't easy. When the shows over, you feel like you've been on a two-plus hour plane ride. Maybe the trick is standing up and stretching half-way through a show.
I've enjoyed a show or two online. But it's usually one of my second tier shows like Heroes. I'll stick with programming my antiquated DVR for watching LOST on the big screen while resting comfortably on my couch. For me, the "wherever" doesn't matter nearly as much as the "whenever."
There was a good reality television moment on American Idol the other night when Simon told Kris Allen -- season 8's married heartthrob -- that he "brought his wife out" too early. I don't mean that what Simon said was good, just that the unscripted moment it generated (from Kris' wife) was good.
Here's a recap in case you missed it.
Before each performance, AI shows a video of contestants going through their daily lives, pre-Idol. Kris' video was about his five month-old marriage and included multiple shots of the newlyweds in their apartment. After Kris performs, Simon let's him know that he should have kept his wife hidden a little longer. Meaning, he'd get more votes from swooning teenage girls if he didn't make a point of being married. Then, not missing a beat, the AI camera crew cut to Kris' wife (who was in the audience), catching her noticeably annoyed.
Maybe she felt she was being dismissed or disrespected (which she was) or maybe it was because she knows that her husband's looks and talent will get the adoration of many young ladies. Whatever it was, it was sincere.
But is Simon on to something? Can a married guy (or girl for that matter) be the next American Idol? Well, if the marital status of past finalists (top two) is any indication, it seems unlikely.
I can't recall all of the previous finalists, but I'm pretty sure none of them were married. And it's not as though there's been a lack of talented married contestants to choose from. Think of season five's 4th place finisher Chris Daughtry. His debut album has sold more -- a lot more -- than 10 previous Idol winners or runners-up. Did Daughtry's marital status prove prohibitive to his advancing to the finals?
Now I'm not going to make this another culture-against-marriage post. Though I could go there. I just don't want a bunch of tweens skewing the results of, um, my second favorite reality television show.
I confess these things knowing full well that I will be the receipient of scorn. After all, it wasn't high art. It didn't have an intricately crafted script or inventive cinematography or brilliant acting. It wasn't produced by a church. It was cotton-candy McFluff.
I have nothing to say in my defense except that every once in a while a girl just likes a cheeseburger. And, for this girl, if she can have it with a small side of financial wisdom ... all the better.
Of course, maybe, I was just thrilled, like Motte, to watch something where I didn't have to close my eyes during the course of the film. But I think, more than anything, was the fact that I could relate to Rebecca Bloomwood, the main character.
Now, I'm not a shopaholic. Much more likely I'm a debt-a-phobic. But as the opening scene unfolded, with young Rebecca's thrifty parents pleased as punch over her plain, ordinary, painfully useful brown shoes while Rebecca saw the other girls squealing with delight over their glittering pink ones, who couldn't relate? Just because I work to be debt-free, doesn't mean I don't understand the lure of pretty shoes.
As my daughter tells me when trying to explain why her favorite color is "rainbow sparkly," "it's because it's so beautiful, Mommy." We all want to be beautiful. Maybe shoes aren't our thing, but we understand the desire. It's not that we want to be runway perfect. We just want daddies who delight in us and husbands who are satisfied with us alone.
In the movie, Rebecca describes her shopping this way:
"When I shop, the world gets better, the world is better. And then it's not anymore, and I need to do it again."
And that's the problem with earthly beauty. Our shoes get scuffed. Our hair gets out of style. Our clothes wear out. Our manicures get chipped. And we have to do it all over again. Even if we do, magically, somehow get all the plates spinning together at the same time, there's still that knowledge that someday, at some time, beauty will fade.
Rebecca's solution was to buy herself into confidence. On the way to her dream job interview, she stops to buy herself a green scarf. That scarf is perfect. It makes her, she thinks, into the person she wants to be. Yes, the perfect dream job applicant would be wearig that perfect green scarf. Never mind that she has to spread the price among multiple credit cards (because they've reached their limit) and beg the final 20 bucks off the street.
But, through the story (and her out of control credit card debt), Rebecca realizes that stereotypical--but also very biblical--wisdom that money can't buy happiness, even if it is pink and glittery.
Would that I would remember that too. That I would remember that my beauty should not come from outward adornments. Instead, it be that of my inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. Of great worth in God's sight.
How does that look in daily life? After three decades on this earth, I'm still working that out. Is it important to maintain health and attractiveness for myself and my spouse? I think so. Should it be my ruling passion? Absolutely not. How do I maintain a balance? How do I make sure that clothing myself doesn't become more important than clothing the needy? How do I maintain modesty and squelch pride and self-absorption? I think, perhaps, it starts in immersing myself in God's perspective of beauty.
At the end of the movie, Rebecca repents from her high-spending ways and has a giant, designer garage sale to pay back her debt. When the movie was over, I gave a little chuckle and then headed to the store to return some new black boots. Yeah, they were on clearance. But I just didn't need them. And, all of a sudden, they just weren't that pretty anymore.
Lisa called Slumdog, Steve volunteered for Benjamin, and I was left with The Wrestler. Yuck, I thought.
Thankfully (see Plugged In review), it didn't play out that way. In the end, only Lisa and I ended up going (not together). And we both saw Slumdog Millionaire. Which was awesome. But not because the Academy deemed it so. More because it exceeded my low barrier of what I consider a good movie ... when it's non-offensive and mildly entertaining, in that order.
I've grown to give movies a lot of grace if they can just meet those two criteria. (Having a good message is a bonus.) So when someone asks me about a movie I've just seen, I respond with either "waste of time," "pleasantly surprised," or "awesome." Sometimes I'll add an "Aside from ..." with "waste of time" and "pleasantly surprised." For example, "Aside from a couple of s-words and inappropriate uses of Jesus' name, I was pleasantly surprised."
I think part of being sensitively (not necessarily easily) entertained has to do with growing in Christ. The moment not grieving the Spirit matters more than entertainment value is when you know you've cultivated a heart for media discernment.
I knew I had arrived when I gave high marks to a movie like Fireproof. It met my low barrier movie enjoyment threshold, and then some ... non-offensive and mildly entertaining with a great message.
Anyone who's spent any amount of time watching American Idol will be struck by one thing: a lot of people see getting on the show as their ticket to changing their entire lives. Never mind that most who try out have little to no talent. Even those blessed with a natural gift seem to want the shortcut to fame and success. Why go through the hard job of learning to improve your talent, working your way through the system, trying and sometimes failing when you can just get on a TV show and, presto, you're catapulted to the top? Listen to how many times you’ll hear some variation on, "This will change my life" or "I really need this" during the show's auditions.Witness the emotional and often profane meltdowns when people see their supposed one ticket to success denied them. Turn your eyes away as contestants debase themselves by outright begging.
Compare this to what happened a few weeks ago during U.S. Airway's very brief Flight 1549 from New York's LaGuardia airport to the Hudson River by way of a flock of geese. (Yes, it seems a great leap of logic from American Idol to here, but bear with me.) A lot of people have described the actions of the plane's captain, Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger, as "heroic" and the plane's safe landing as a "miracle."I beg to differ. That is not to take away anything from the pilot or crew of that flight. They performed magnificently. But what transpired with Flight 1549 was the result of years of hard work and careful training. There was nothing heroic, truly defined, in what Captain Sullenberger did.
Patrick Smith,a professional airline pilot, says it well:
Nothing [Sullenberger and First Officer Jeffrey Skiles] did was easy, but on the whole they did what they had to do, what they were trained to do, and what, we should hope, most other crews would have done in that same situation. I reckon Sullenberger and Skiles would readily admit as much. Not out of false modesty but out of due respect for their colleagues everywhere. It was not heroics that saved the day; it was, to use a word I normally dislike, professionalism.
Sullenberger was a 1973 graduate of the U.S. Air Force Academy and had, over many years, worked his way up to the left seat of a major commercial airliner. He had thousands of hours in the cockpit of one type of aircraft or another. It was that experience—years and years of hard work—that contributed to the happy outcome for Flight 1549. The years of experience and hard work of the all the crew members, including flight attendants Donna Dent, Doreen Welsh, and Sheila Dail, paid off that day.
Back to American Idol. Sure, the outcome of any TV show is not life-and-death, but you wouldn't know that by the way the show's participants act. What bothers me is the attitude of the typical Idolcontestant. Compare it to the cool professionalism of that U.S. Airways crew. Who needs years of hard work and experience to be successful? Just wow the judges and a few thousand adoring fans for a relatively brief period of time. What else could explain a Sanjaya Malakar? A David Archuleta? (Let the brickbats fly!) The numerous winners and runners-up who fade into obscurity once out of the artificial environment of Idol?
We're in danger of becoming a nation of Idol contestants, wanting a quick ride to the good life without the hard work and patience to actually earn it. (Set aside for the moment that many of us define the "good life" quite differently anyway.) What else could explain the election of a callow, inexperienced president who ran as a messiah but has been proved in the past few weeks to have feet of clay—which any sentient being should have been able to predict. What explains our culture's increasing reliance on lotteries and gambling to fund essential functions of government? The mountains of debt racked up by many Americans too impatient to actually save for the things they want?
I know there are a lot of other Chesley Sullenbergers out there. They're the ones we should emulate and praise, not for heroics or miracles, but for doing hard work, day in and day out, and doing it well—often for little reward. Let's see American Idol for what it is: ephemeral fizz that within weeks dissipates into the essential nothingness that it is.
I've got my opinions about music. Of course, they're well-informed. Through the decades of my life I've listened to a variety of artists, a variety of genres, a variety of production approaches ... and have earned the right to my good opinions. The weight of my 1,000+ CD collection is a testament to the weight of my opinion.
And the music you listen to just stinks.
Hm. Or maybe that odor is coming from me. Maybe the high opinion I have of my opinions betrays my musical snobbery. To put that in biblical terms, perhaps the expression of my musical opinion is a sign of ungodly pride.
Do I get offended when someone critiques my favorite song, group or style of music? Well, yes, I do. Well, that may be a sign of idolatry.
Do I trash a song after hearing just the first 20 seconds, or after hearing it only once? Hm, yeah, I do. Then maybe I'm not giving the song a fair shake.
Am I better than you "masses of people" because I enjoy some obscure music, like Silers Bald, Enfield, Melissa Tawlks, Chris Eaton, Arvo Part, the Robert Shaw Festival Singers? Conversely, am I a better person because I enjoy massively popular music, like Stephen Curtis Chapman, Third Day, Casting Crowns, Chris Tomlin? Nope, I'm not.
Hm. Maybe it'd be good for me -- and good for our relationship -- to listen to the music you like, that I don't currently care for. Maybe I can come to better appreciate the Lord's creativity by further expanding the collection of stuff I listen to, even "unsophisticated" stuff.
Bob's closing paragraph sums it up for me:
Let me be clear. No song is above evaluation and there are truly bad songs. We just might serve others and ourselves more effectively if we expressed our musical opinions with a little more grace.
Hm. With a little more grace. Yeah.
So, what was that song you wanted me to listen to?
As you may remember, one of my friends, Eli Bremer, is an Olympic pentathlete. He finished a disappointing 23rd in Beijing, but a happy 3rd at the World Cup Finals in Portugal.
Well, the sad news is that the sport has been experiencing some hard times, and some cuts have become necessary. Seems the financial markets aren't the only things contracting. Yup, the number of events that make up the sport has diminished from five to four. ESPN explains:
Shooting and running will now be combined in a fourth and final discipline. The starting order of the final event is determined by the points accumulated after the first three, so the leading competitors get a head start. The overall winner is the first to cross the finish line.
Now, athletes should be able to ride horses, shoot and run at the same venue. The idea is to make the event easier for fans to follow.
I watched Eli compete when he was in China; the events were broadcast deep into the night and into the morning over the Internet. To be honest, if he weren't involved, this wouldn't be a sport I'd follow. It takes some endurance from those watching to hang in there for up to 12 hours while athletes move from venue to venue, with lengthy breaks between each. Though the change introduces some logistical challenges, I think it's a good one for spectator and participant alike.
I suppose they can continue calling this a "pentathlon," as there are still five disciplines represented in the four events. I'm going to propose, though, that -- out of solidarity with those struggling in this difficult financial downturn with its budget cuts and layoffs -- the sport be renamed "the modern quadathlon."
I'm told that, "whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10: 31). So, as a musician who listens to music, I find myself pondering how I might do so for "the glory of God."
I suppose I could keep from listening to music that tempts me to sin, either because of the lyrics or because of what the music brings to mind. I could be aware of how much time I listen to music, and whether doing so isolates me from friendships or keeps me from my obligations. And I should question when it might be best for me to seek energy and happiness from the very personal Author of music, God, rather than from mere impersonal tones.
Bob Kauflin, pastor and Director of Worship Development for Sovereign Grace Ministries, explored this in a recent post on his blog, Worship Matters.
The foundation for his thoughts on the matter are that sin exists: outside us, and within us. It's therefore helpful to be aware of how music might stir these sinful desires in harmful ways. Indeed, as he says, "Listening to music without discernment and godly intent reveals a heart willing to flirt with the world."
He goes on to list six things to be aware of when listening to music. Ones obvious to me include the lyrical content of a song, the amount of time we listen to music, and the emotions produced within us when we listen to a song. He also lists "submission," "associations," and "conversion."
Submission is always a tough one, though I do realize that just as I am in authority over others, I am under the authority of others. Even in the area of music, perhaps. Hm.
What do you think? Is it even possible to listen to music "for God's glory"? If so, what might that look like for you?
I can't let Ted and Steve get away with going all mushy on us without contributing my own deeply insightful poetry. My initial foray into the category achieved limited renown, but I won't let that stop me. I do it for the art, despite the philistines who don't appreciate it.
There once was a man from Toledo Who loved to go swim in his Speedo He thought he'd be cool Diving in the kids' pool Now his head is exceedingly bleedo.
There once was a man from Las Vegas Who managed a chain of bodegas He ran out of beef tacos With fresh red tomakos Now no money to give his employas.
There once was a man from Havana Who detested the taste of banana Show up with the fruit And he'd give you the boot Then crush you with falling piana.
There once was a concert pianist Who was known to be somewhat dishonest At Carnegie Hall He spun tale quite tall Of throwing a piano the farthest.
There once was an old scuba diver Who fancied himself a MacGyver He defused a big bomb With a stick of lip balm He's now the shipwreck's sole survivor
There was once a ski downhill racer Who was also a bit of skirt-chaser "Don't I know you somewhere?" He asked with great flair Her slap mark is still on his facer.
There once was a fast-food employee Who worked despite his ennui. "Want fries with that?" He asked a young brat "Have it your way," he said with lethargy.
There once was a poetry writer Who considered himself so much brighter Than the philistine boor Whose background was poor Too bad he wasn't a fighter.
This week, Ben Roethlisberger and the 5-2 Pittsburgh Steelers travel to FedEx field to battle the 6-2 Washington Redskins ... and their scantily clad cheerleaders.
Forget about the much anticipated match-up between the Steelers stingy run defense and the NFL's leading rusher Clinton Portis, can Big Ben keep from being distracted by the Redskins' cheerleaders who do their pre-game stretching near the opposing team?
"I'm not a big fan of playing there because it is loud, they're really good at home and they try to make their cheerleaders stretch in our tunnel before we come out of the locker room. That's just not good," Roethlisberger said yesterday.
The practice by the Redskins cheerleaders was so legendary around the league that when commissioner Roger Goodell sent out a memo to all teams last year banning the practice some dubbed the "Redskins Rule."
"The couple of preseason games I've played down there, we've seen it," Roethlisberger said.
And it's a distraction?
"It can be, let's be truthful. They've done it before. I've heard a rumor that they're not allowed to do it anymore."
Of course it's a distraction for the players. And it's a temptation for the viewers. It's one of the reasons I'm glad I don't watch NFL games anymore. My wife's loving "Turn away!" still rings in my head. =)
A college professor once asked my class a thought-provoking question: "What makes music Christian?" Is it the words of the song, the heart-state of a composer, the person who sings it? If Eminem sings "Amazing Grace," is it a Christian song? If Michael W. Smith sings "Jingle Bells" (and he has) is that a Christian song?
Well, I think you can make a case that the songs themselves are amoral. Sure some lyrics are more God-glorifying than others, just as some artists are more in tune with God than others. But what is the relationship between Christ and music about Christ?
Here's what has me thinking about this topic. I'm going to step on some toes here, but one of the most popular TV shows today, Grey's Anatomy, is highly immoral.
The hip dramedy joins a prime-time practice already including House, Scrubs, ER, Medical Investigation and Nip/Tuck. It samples from each of these series. The result is a character-based show sprinkled with a few laughs, lots of blood and extremely gray morals.
And so I find it a little surprising that the show regularly—and sometimes prominently—features CCM tunes. Artists featured on the show have included Lifehouse, Mat Kearney, Derek Webb, Patty Griffin, Caedmon's Call and Kendall Payne. Caedmon's Call received an especially dominant play earlier this year.
Caedmon's Call's lyrically compelling song about redemption, "Ten Thousand Angels" will receive a rare and lengthy place on an upcoming episode of the ABC hit drama series Grey's Anatomy on January 10th. Featuring vocals by Derek Webb, the song will play for five consecutive minutes during an emotionally charged final scene.
"It's an honor to be asked to help carry some of the emotional weight of a powerhouse show like Grey's," says Webb. "I think the spiritual significance of a song like "Ten Thousand Angels" will have some really special chemistry with what is bound to be an important episode in the season."
On another recent episode, these powerful Kendall Payne lyrics were heard:
Though the wind and waves Beat against your faith You were on my mind When the world was made Trust in me my child, Trust in me my child.
I find the inclusion of these songs perplexing. Through the music, Grey's is asking people to look past the day-to-day to something deeper and more profound. However, the actions and lifestyles of its characters affirm the opposite. With rampant promiscuity, adultery and homosexuality, their lives reflect the sad truth of Ephesians 4:19: "Having lost all sensitivity, they have given themselves over to sensuality so as to indulge in every kind of impurity, with a continual lust for more."
The show promotes a wholly worldly perspective (1 John 2:16) while teasing the eternal to add weight to its themes. I am reminded of Paul's words in Philippians 1:18: "But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached." I suppose you could say that in some muted way Christ is being preached, but it's a shame that the show itself so obscures the way to the God it's touting.
I pray that the Christ-centered words of these songs would reach the millions of Grey's viewers despite the show's ungodly messages. If nothing else, the incorporation of these songs shows that those who live by their own rules still crave something otherworldly—still long for redemption. And perhaps the truth breaking through is what makes a song Christian.
Some of you have seen the movie Fireproof. I'd like to share with those who haven't yet seen it the comments from those who have seen it. These are all taken from Boundless Line blog posts "Watching 'Fireproof'" and "Kirk Cameron Made Me Cry."
Laurie wrote:
My boyfriend and I went to see Fireproof yesterday. It was excellent. I didn't really care that it was low budget or whatever, because I went to hear the message. The message of the movie is powerful. My boyfriend and I were both crying almost the whole movie through! It was a wonderful conversation starter for us, and very encouraging. We are telling all of our friends to go see it!
Victoria wrote:
I almost didn't see this movie because of some of the negative comments about it, but my husband and I had already purchased tickets. Going in we both had really low expectations about the quality of this film. However, we both thought it was not just a great Christian movie, it was a great movie, period....
I thought it was incredibly well-done, made me laugh in some places and cry in others, and the story kept my attention. Not to mention that although my husband and I are definitely not emotional and almost never cry in movies, we were both BAWLING at the end.
Shame on any Christian who pretentiously dismisses it or is needlessly critical. We should be encouraging others to see this film, not talking it down so much that others would think it is awful and won't see it (as I almost did).
Geneva wrote:
Christians bashing other Christians' efforts is grating on my nerves these days. And for the record, I saw Fireproof and thought it was a great movie.
Ceres wrote:
I just watched it and I loved it! Much better than I anticipated.... Great movie!
Holly wrote:
It exceeded all my expectations.
Josh wrote:
Bottom line, this film is lengths and strides better than their last film, Facing the Giants. These guys have tightened up the plot and the dialogue. Places where I was worried they were going to hammer me, they were subtle instead.
Sure there's room for growth, but they had me crying and I went in cynical, as is my bent. The pacing of the change in their marriage is perfect, and you don't get the payoff until near the end.
Worth seeing.
David wrote:
What it will do is challenge you and your commitment to your marriage. It will strike close to home for many who fight the urge to confront their spouses about their shortcomings. Above all, it will demonstrate the awesome power of restoration and forgiveness that can be found in the Word.
I would encourage you to avoid measuring the success of this picture with a traditional movie industry ruler. Instead, if success must be measured, think of the number of lives that will be changed, relationships restored and renewed commitments to family that will be made. In the end, I think Fireproof, judged by those criteria, will surpass everyone's expectations.
Amir wrote:
It will promote some very important realities dear to Christians and vital to the Christian message: the persevering work of Jesus Christ, demonstrated on the cross; the sanctity of the marriage covenant; that tough marriages are–more often than not–salvageable. For those reasons alone, it is worth the viewing. For the Christian considering marriage, it is recommended for reasons on which I will elaborate....
Still, there are themes that make the movie worth watching: (a) the Gospel is well-represented, especially against the backdrop of a husband’s heartfelt attempt to woo his wife, and her rejection of him; and (b) the sanctity and permanence of the marriage covenant. Those items alone make the movie a good one to see before you get married.
Mrs. R wrote:
I went to see Fireproof yesterday afternoon by myself. The message of the movie was so encouraging to me. I personally thought that it was beautifully done and that this was the best acting I've ever seen by Kirk Cameron.... I would have gladly paid $20 instead of the $10 that I paid to see this movie in order to support these Christian filmmakers.
Alyss wrote:
The amazing message totally conquers any other silly audio/visual technicalities that even the most harsh moviegoer could possibly conjure up. To all the haters: listen to the dialogue, think of all the families/couples that you know whose marriages and lives could be saved if only they applied some of these concepts revealed in the movie.
Karen wrote:
My husband and I saw the movie yesterday. I thought it was refreshing to see people acting more closely to the real life persons in my life. I have friends like the nurses at the hospital, the parents were very much like mine, and the firemen reminded me of stories my dad tells from work. Too often the "good" actors in the movies portray people too perfect, too funny, too everything to be real. The message was good and I'm recommending it.
Lorraine wrote:
I just saw the movie today and it was fantastic!!
Kimberly wrote:
At a preview screening I attended, nearly every man in the building was sobbing or at least had tears. A full month later, all of us as wives can testify that we have been pampered beyond comprehension (big grin), which to me says it all. My hubby is a great guy anyway, but he has gone the extra mile after experiencing quite a bit of conviction watching Fireproof, and another couple I know who were (unbeknownst to us) having problems have experienced restoration and renewal they didn't think possible.
Carrie wrote:
I would say that this is way more than a movie. It's life-changing. For those who are married, aren't married, or are considering it as an option, I'd say see this movie. It will help you prevent a truck-load of pain. I cried at Facing the Giants, but this one had me shouting, clapping and booing too.
This final comment was submitted by Catherine, who hadn't yet seen the movie but was already benefiting from its messages powerfully told. She wrote:
My husband and I have been separated for 8 months. We started talking about the possibility of getting back together and making our family work about a month and a half ago. We decided that we DID want our marriage to work. The very next Sunday, our pastor announced that he was starting a month-long series on marriage based on the movie. God's timing amazes me!
Looking back at the last month... we have begun the process of not only putting our marriage back together... but making it FIREPROOF!
Those who've seen the movie have been deeply touched by it. And that is not a bad thing -- to be provoked toward godliness by a film.
Let me encourage those who haven't yet seen it not to knock it. Your uninformed ignorance may discourage someone from being blessed by this film.
As for me, if I can be a conduit of the Lord's blessing, how cool is that? So I say, unabashedly, "See this movie."
And then urge your church to follow the innovative, brave, trail-blazing ways of Sherwood Baptist Church ... by producing engaging, enjoyable, life-changing movies for the glory of God and the blessing of those for whom Christ died.
Last night we watched the movie for the second time. And though we tried to engage with the story, a number of production "artifacts" were a bit distracting.
On numerous occasions, I noticed errors of "continuity" -- within the same scene, for example, when a camera angle changed, actors had magically changed position. That can be kind of jarring, but I did my best not to let that keep me from enjoying the film.
And there were problems with the audio. Dialog would cut off abruptly, though the ambient sound of a hallway or chamber would remain. The very quality of audio was less than I've come to expect from modern movies. Maybe they were using microphones developed in the 1930s.
The music wasn't what I'd consider "distracting," but don't look for the soundtrack in a Wal-mart near you. Mediocre, to be blunt.
The quality of the actual picture on the screen, though pretty good considering the equipment used to film the movie, left something to be desired. I noticed some "noise" throughout the film, but again, I tried not to let that derail my engagement with the story.
And the movie ended too abruptly. Just as the action climaxed, before any loose ends could be satisfactorily resolved, the closing credits began scrolling up the screen. What's with that? Hm. Perhaps the director just figured that'd be the best way to make the audience wrestle with what they'd just witnessed.
The story was what kept our attention. The theme was a lofty one, one that everyone can relate to. We also loved seeing character development -- the leading lady whose heart was softened by the leading man's pursuit of admirable ideals, the senator who wrestled with his conscience, which finally got the best of him.
Senator? Oh, right. The film we watched last night was "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," Frank Capra's classic featuring Jimmy Stewart, Claude Rains (who played Captain Renault in Casablanca), and Jean Arthur.
You know what? Despite the film's "poor production values," I found my heart elevated by the story. I adjusted my expectations based on the limitations placed on the film crew because of the available expertise and technology, and was able to engage the story to my benefit.
Maybe a few more of us could hold such a reasonable and humble attitude toward "Fireproof." Just as I was encouraged by Capra's "Mr. Smith," they will find themselves appreciating "Fireproof" who take into account the innate limitations imposed on those who brought us "Fireproof."
I attended a special screening of the movieFireproofa couple of months ago and one thing stands out: Kirk Cameron made me tear-up ... twice! [Spoiler Warning] They were scenes of true repentance expertly acted by Cameron. That's right, expertly acted by Kirk Cameron, people!
As for the merits of the movie overall, Plugged In Online'sreview nails it, particularly this portion:
You might notice that some of the lines in Fireproof feel a little wooden. And you might notice that the script indulges more dialogue (most of it spiritual) than you're used to hearing in movies about firemen. But the honest truth is that you don't really care by the time the credits roll, because you're too busy feeling your own feelings and thinking your own thoughts about your own relationships. This is the kind of movie that succeeds, sometimes despite itself, because it does a superlative job of digging into serious issues that so deeply affect so many of us every day.
It's true. That's why we're recommending it to our friends and even offering babysitting to some so they'll go and see it.
Okay, we all know a guy needs skills -- you know, like nunchuku skills, bow-hunting skills and computer-hacking skills. Apparently, though, the editors of Popular Mechanics seem to think that's not enough. This month they provide a list of 100 skills they say every man needs. (Let's set aside the sexism argument for the moment.) It's an interesting list, and I was doing quite well until the technology section. (When they say, "Ditch your hard drive," do they mean on purpose?)
But I have no idea what a stick welder is or does. I'm not even sure why it's considered an automotive skill. I can't use a sewing machine, and I can't home-brew beer. I can grow food -- if you count the green slime on that otherwise unidentifiable blob at the back of the fridge. And I can not only change a single-pole light switch, but I can change a three-way switch and rewire your kitchen at the same time. (I wrote the book on home wiring for the Time-Life home-repair series.)
I can certainly shoot straight. (Anyone who makes it through Marine Corps marksmanship training will be a good shot.) And I can escape a rip current, having had to do it more than once while growing up as a long-haired surfer dude in Florida. Overall, I came in at 89 percent.
But there are some key skills left off the list.
How to let a child believe you're going to buy that pony she desperately wants without actually promising you'll buy it. A gentle pat to the head accompanied by "We'll see" usually does the trick.
How to win at Monopoly. Buy everything you land on, go deeply into debt, then hope you get lucky. Oh wait, that's general American consumerism.
How to do a wicked doughnut in a car. Get a '67 Chevy Impala, put 10 guys in the trunk, cut the wheel sharply as you floor the gas pedal. Call ambulance(s).
How to watch football on TV. Yell loudly at players that they're supposed to catch the ball or tackle the guy. Gesture broadly and exclaim great oaths when they don't seem to hear you.
How to explain American football to a European wife. Yeah, I know -- trick question.
How to enjoy watching cricket on TV. Beat head repeatedly against brick wall. You will enjoy doing anything after that.
How to play chess. Start to move piece while watching opponent's face. If his eyebrows go up, slowly put piece back where it was. If his eyebrows remain stable, keep moving piece until eyebrows go up again, then stop move. Occasionally shout "checkmate!" while watching opponents eyebrows. If they become deeply furrowed, say, "Oh wait, never mind." If they go up in surprise, look at board again and say, "Really?"
How to respond when wife asks if this outfit makes her look fat. "Just shoot me now."
How to avoid sneezing at inopportune times. Press down hard on the bridge of your nose. (This one actually works.)
I wish I could talk politics with you guys. It's a passion. But as Ted wrote last week, we really can't get into the "nitty gritty" (meant to be read with a Nacho Libre accent) without mentioning candidates. So I thought I bring up another passion of mine, college football.
(If you girls reading this are like my wife, feel free to abandon this post here.)
We're almost three weeks into the best game on the planet. And I've enjoyed every moment so far: expert analysis, forums, rankings, expectations, all culminating into a crescendo of gridiron glory every Saturday.
There's a great article today on Boundless from Stephen Altrogge that helps explain our love of sports. It's about how we enjoy excellence because it's a reflection of God's character.
When we excel at sports, we are in a very small way reflecting the excellence of God's character. This is part of the reason why we experience so much joy in playing sports. Doing things excellently is a reflection of God, who does all things with excellence. The same is true of watching sports. When we see an athlete perform exceptionally well, we're seeing a small portion of God's character.
I certainly agree. But my appreciation for sports is as much about determination and effort as it is excellence. There's excellence all over the field that'll go unappreciated if a team's heart isn't in it.
Stephen uses a great Eric Liddell quote from Chariots of Fire to illustrate his point. But I'll go with Rock Balboa from Rocky when he said, "It's not about how hard you hit. It's how hard you get hit and keep moving forward."
I finally had a chance to watch "The Dark Knight" yesterday afternoon, catching it at the local IMAX theater.
I didn't like it.
What was there to like? Did I "like" when the Joker tortured his victims, catching their terror on his shaky handheld videocamera? Did I "like" when the hospital blew up, or when the police station blew up, or when the other buildings that blew up blew up? Did I "like" when loved ones were murdered, or when loved ones were threatened with death? Did I enjoy watching the Joker so casually knife someone or shoot someone or manipulate the mentally handicapped or giggle at the corruption of others?"
No, I didn't enjoy this film.
My reaction as I walked out of the theater? I nearly wept. My heart was heavy, and to tell you the truth, I'm still not sure exactly why. I think it had to do with the pain, the hopelessness, the darkness, the chaos, the brokenness -- the evil that humans are capable of. That humans are capable of portraying, perhaps.
I don't know if this movie was good for me. (And, after all, isn't that the only reason to watch a movie?) On one hand it may be a difficult but helpful film for me, one that provokes me to think deeply about the twisted fringes of humanity and our Lord's response to it. About chaos and meaninglessness ... and about the bright purity of our Lord's order and the way He brings meaning to life.
Or it may simply provide a pleasurable opportunity to rub shoulders with evil from the safety of a comfy chair, to see how close I'm able to flirt with darkness without darkening my soul, to enable me to engage in a type of voyeurism that's not going to raise the suspicions of my neighbors.
Was this movie good medicine, horrible tasting yet good for the soul? Or was it a poison pill? Honestly, at this point I don't know.
I do think it's worth the effort to evaluate why this film moved me so much, and why I'm drawn to this and other psychological thrillers.
In his recent article "A Knight Too Dark?" Matt Kaufman concludes, "We can glimpse into the darkness from time to time, but we look too long at our peril. We need to spend most of our time looking into, and living, in the light."
How long is "too long"? Hm. Not sure. For me, "too long" might be one viewing.
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