Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Faith and Certitude

In my understanding (and the understanding of several prominent theologians) of what "faith" means in Christianity, there is really no need for an absolute certitude (i.e. "I know without a shadow of a doubt that I am correct in saying 'Christianity is true.'"), there is only the need for (a) a knowledge (Notitia) of the Gospel, (b) an assent (Assensus) that the Gospel is true and (c) an act of faithfulness (Fiducia) to that assent.

For example, I do not have to have an absolute certitude that my office chair will hold me up when I sit on it. I believe it will hold me up, based on that belief I sit. In that act of sitting, I have acted out my complete faith and confidence in the chair that it will hold me up.

There is always the possibility (however unlikely) that the chair will break when I sit on it. My faith in the chair is not negated by my realization of that. I could be mistaken to place my faith in that chair because (a) I do not have an exhaustive knowledge of the chair (i.e. of the chairs engineering and if everything in the chair's engineering is in the right place and unbroken) and (b) I cannot see into the future of what will happen if I sit in the chair. But my faith is demonstrated and completed in the act of sitting. There is no need for absolute certitude; there is only the need for a confidence (assensus) that provokes an act of faith (fiducia).

I think it is the same way with our faith in Christ. I am not omniscient, thus I cannot know with absolute certitude that the Gospel of Christ is true. However, based on my experience with Christ and from what I have learned in history and logic, the only proper response for me is to have a faith in Christ and the claims of His Gospel. Placing my confidence in Him, I aim to trust Him with my heart and my obedience. I have yet to be disappointed in my decision to place my faith in Christ, however that doesn't mean that I am not wrong to do so. The one and only way we can know for sure is when we die and are/are not resurrected. What matters is not that I have a certitude that Christianity is true. What matters is that I have the kind of confidence (assensus) in Christ that provokes act of Faith (fiducia).

All the rest is gravy. No?

Thursday, May 11, 2006

The Da Vinci Code "Skubala"

"Skubala."  Great word.  If you lived in the Roman Empire in the first century, you would have probably seen the once-famous chariot bumper sticker with the Greek word "Skubala" followed by the Greek equivalent of "Happens."  If you were Paul, you would have said that you count your many works as "skubala" compared to knowing Christ.

If Paul was with us today, I think that he might say of the Christian reaction to The Da Vinci Code: "The skubala has hit the fan."  Indeed.

You know... if you would have asked me two weeks ago, "Adam what is the proper way to react to the DaVinci Code coming to the theaters?" I would have said, "I can't wait. I'm definitely going to go see it, and I am going to talk to people about it like crazy, defending the faith in a very winsome way!

"But then I get this e-mail containing a rant on DVC by Barbara Nicolosi. It is an extremely sharp-tongued and berating indictment on this whole "dialogue" approach to DVC. "What the heck??" I thought. If I would have seen this from any other "fundamentalist" schmuck, I would have shaken my head, sighed, and prayed for them to get a grip...but Barbara Nicolosi??? Act One Barbara Nicolosi??? Church of the Masses Barbara Nicolosi??? What the heck???!!!

And thus my comfortable "dialogue-hey-I-can't-wait-for-this-movie-to-come-out" stance was shattered. She is not someone you can sweep under your rug. She must be listened to and considered. And so that's what I've been doing the past two weeks -- considering, researching, praying, listening, arguing, meditating...perspiring! aggravating! perplexing!

And that's where I am. Still. I'm still processing this. I'm arguing "Dialogue" with the "Othercotters" and I'm arguing "Othercott" with the "Dialogue-ers." And then I process some more. Rinse. Repeat. Hope (that I come to a conclusion before opening weekend!).

I'm trying (trying) to weigh this all against the scriptures, "What did Jesus do? How would he react today? How did the church react to similar things back then?"

What is really frustrating to me right now is that the Othercotters (so far...) seem for the most part to be completely apathetic (or worse?) to the idea of trying to find a Biblical foundation for their reaction. Now sure, anyone can "prooftext" a "biblical foundation" for anything. Churches in the South (both of America and Africa) were infamous for having a "biblical foundation" for slavery and apartheid. Yes, you can prove almost any point through "prooftexting", but you can't prove any point through solid exegesis, and that is what I'm talking about.

What is equally frustrating for me right now is how flippantly the "dialogue-ers" are taking the DVC, and how freely and unquestioningly they are willing to toss their money into the coffers of a false-teacher, and "vote" for more blasphemous movies like DVC (which, according to the Machine that is Hollywood, is exactly what you are doing by buying that ticket) to be produced.

I think the real answer to all of this begins with the questions:

"How should Christianity interact with culture?"
"Is there a disconnect between a heretic and the art of a heretic? Should we treat both the same way?"
"When the art of a false teacher becomes a major component in our culture, is that a point of withdrawal from culture?"

...and I'm not sure right now what the Biblical answers are...if there are any.

I cringe at the ideas that Dan Brown is so unapologetically sowing into the soil of our culture, I really do. But there is also something in me that resists a boycott of art (or even pseudo-artistic entertainment). It has long been a question of mine, "How can I honestly expect people to listen to my ideas and to receive my art if I am totally unwilling to listen to and receive theirs?" I don't know, but it seems almost hypocritical to encourage and hope for "non-believers" to go see Passion of the Christ, Narnia, Left Behind (er...well... you get what I mean...), when we refuse to go see anything that differs from or challenges our own beliefs. It seems like hypocrisy to get irate over and boycott (or "othercott" -- "a rose by any other name...") DVC and then get upset or disappointed when people steam and boycott over the next Christianity-kosher movie.

Perhaps our axiom should be "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."  It is interesting that Jesus reverses this from a negative into a positive axiom.  "Because I want you to listen to me, I am going to listen to you."  "Because I want you to see my movies, I'm going to go see your movie...even if you don't ever come see my movie."  Jesus doesn't promise that the Golden Rule practiced will cause those good things to come back to you.  Nope -- that's karma.  Jesus kicked Karma's butt with Grace.

Hmm.... ARRRGH!! It's so frustrating and perplexing...Where is Neibuhr when you need him?...still processing all of this...I will be sure to blog when I have found all the answers to this.

Don't count on ever seeing that blog...-adam

Monday, May 01, 2006

Spritual Autobiography: My journey thus far

So I'm applying to start seminary in the Fall, and in the application they ask for your "Spiritual Autobiography". Some of you already know this story, but most of you probably don't. Of course, this is a very, very brief spiritual biography and very much is left out, but this is my best attempt at trying to "break it down" to around 750 words...hehe. Ask me again 20 years from now, and I will probably tell this same portion of the story completely differently.


I was born deep in the Bible-belt of West Texas to a Southern Baptist pastor and his musically-inclined wife: a perfect small-church ministry team. I grew up in both the North and the South, living in Texas, Indiana, and Arkansas. One Sunday when I was almost five years old, I walked to the front of the sanctuary and asked Jesus into my heart, which officially began what was really already in the works since I was born a life in Christ.


All analogies break down at some point, but I suppose you could best describe my life in Christ as an artist trying to paint a beautiful picture, a commissioned painting for a person he dearly loves. However, whenever the dearly-loved patron described what he wants in the painting, he spoke in parables that were difficult to interpret. Then the patron went away on a long trip, but he promised to be back when the artist least expected it, and when he returned, he was eager to receive the painting. The artist, then, (without the Patrons cell number) is forced to find the meaning of these parables by examining what he knows and what he can find out about the life and history of the Patron, getting to know His word and his works, and stealing as many secrets from the Patrons wife that he can. I am the artist. The LORD Jesus Christ is my dearly-loved patron. The scriptures are the Patrons parables and the record of his word and his works. My life is the painting. The patrons wife is the Holy Spirit. The rest of my biography should be read with that in mind.


Shortly after my profession of faith, I started singing in church, and Ive been singing in church (and elsewhere) ever since. Perhaps this is also where my passion for the Arts began. The Lord has given me many talents. Gifts. Things I did not train in or earn or work hard to achieve. Gifts. Over the years, I have won awards for singing, acting, fiction writing, poetry, script writing, essay writing, drawing, print design, and even journalism. The Lord has gifted me in the arts, and my life has been spent enjoying those gifts and trying to discern how to use them for His glory (as well as trying to figure out what exactly His glory means).


Also, I have always been full of questions about God like, What makes me think my religion is true? and all of that questions inevitable subfolders. I talked to my parents about these questions and they would give me answers that only slightly placated my ridiculous and relentlessly probing mind, yet the answers were good enough for me to be able to sweep it under the rug and carry on with life as normal for a while.


The discovery of C.S. Lewis was perhaps the most influential part of my development on almost every level of my identity. Lewis inspired me and, in a way, mentored me academically, spiritually, apologetically, theologically, and artistically, while I lived in a small town where such a dynamic combo was almost impossible to find. In Lewis, I saw what I would want to be myself one day: an artist/theologian.

I went to college and started out as a music major. However, my love for music was overshadowed by the many questions I still had about faith and Christianity, so I switched my major to Theology, and minored in music. I encountered a very fresh Christianity at Ouachita Baptist University. I grew up with the (perhaps self-induced?) conception that Christianity was mainly about sacrifice and duty, "dying to yourself," giving up things you like for the one who gave up His very life for us. In college, I was lead to encounter Christianity not as a faith based on rules and duty, but a faith based on love and desire. It was like my faith became alive at that point. It had purpose, relevance, and more than anything Truth.


I met my wonderful wife, Kara, in college. We were blessed with the opportunity to go on a mission trip to Southeast Asia together. There, a new passion for the spread of Christs influence across barriers came to fruition in my heart. The Lord gave me a vision of the film industry as a sort of mission field. I wanted to see Christians going into the industry as "tentmakers" similar to going into a closed country where evangelism is prohibited blessing and influencing the industry through meaningful relationships and quality work.


So that's what we did. I graduated college with a B.A. in Theology, earning the highest G.P.A. in the Pruett School of Christian Studies that semester despite my AD/HD. Then, my wife Kara and I moved to Austin, TX where I began immediately working in the film industry, trying to approach it in the way I mentioned above. I learned quite a bit about life in "the industry", and what it means to be a Christian there. Even more questions aroused -- practical questions that can really only be asked and understood by those who have been there. I have learned first-hand from many failures and accomplishments, yet I still hunger to understand, and not just to understand but to know how to wisely influence and shepherd other people who have the same struggles. Yet still, I want to engage culture myself, influence it, create quality art, and be a respectable presence that can be a channel through which the grace and love of Christ can freely flow.

Sunday, April 30, 2006

A Reaction to Frederica Mathewes-Green on Art and Church Tradition

Today, I attended the third C.S. Lewis Conference in Austin, TX on Truth, Goodness, and Beauty with speakers William Lane Craig, Peter Kreeft, and Frederica Mathewes-Green. This blog is a reaction to her speech on "Beauty" in the Christian faith in the form of an e-mail that I just sent to her.

------

Hello!

I didn't get to meet you at the conference. I used to be the person that shot like a laser to the front of the auditorium after the speaker was finished, but in recent years I have tried my best to respect the time of the speakers unless there is something incredibly urgent I need to share or ask.

Thank you so much for your words! It is not an everyday occurance to have a brush with the Eastern Orthodox church. What a blessing!

My e-mail is in regards to your comments on art in the church. I have spent quite a deal of time ruminating on this issue, though I've only scratched the surface. I am about to embark on Masters work in Theology and the Arts, and I am looking very much forward to plowing into this beautiful and rich field. I'm sure you have been asked these things before... in that case please feel free to copy and paste your answers to my questions.

The thought that kept beating in my brain was somewhat of an echo of Craig's speech on Objective Truth. It was mentioned that there is objective truth, and there is subjective truth (e.g., allergies and matters of "taste"). Postmodernism is making the mistake of saying that matters of objective truth are really matters of taste. It seems to me that you are making the opposite mistake.

My reasoning is as follows:

(1) Normative absolutes can sometimes be subjective in Christianity, as we see in Romans 14 in the matter of eating "meat," etc. (we are "many members of one body")

(2) Matters of taste (e.g., art, music, etc.) are also perhaps always subjective

(3) It would seem to follow that music (which is so closely -- perhaps inextricably -- connected to matters of taste) in the church practice would also be subjective

A second, parallel line of reasoning following the history of musical evolution from which I can reasonably draw conclusions concerning other branches of the fine arts:

(1) What I know about music history seems show only a very gradual evolution of musical style throughout the centuries, but as time progresses, the speed of the evolution exponentially increases, and things are "out of fashion" (or "outside the realm of the collective contemporary taste") very quickly.

(2) I would assume that the music of the early church was formed around the collective contemporary taste of their day, though I would also assume that the "collective musical taste" of the Hellenistic church would have differed the Jewish church. Thus, the music in the church at this time would be a descriptive, not normative issue.

(3) Because musical style and collective taste only very slowly evolved at that time, I would postulate that there would be little question or contest over what "style" of music to play in church.

(4) The more time that passes, it seems only natural that what was once only a descriptive issue would evolve into a normative issue by means of the flesh (we are creatures of habit) not necessarily by means of the Spirit, and thus become a normative part of authoritative tradition. (of course, this is all based on the Protestant presupposition that Tradition is not authoritative).

Also, you mentioned that what is important is not that we have a marketable service that is appealing to the masses, but that we truly worship. I think you are making a false dichotomy here, assuming that "what is marketable" cannot be "truly worshipped" to. On the contrary, this "marketable music" is exactly what many people most "truly worship" too (whatever "truly worship" means). Again, this results in matters of taste. To one person, a chant might be most conducive to "true worship"; to another, a contemporary praise song; to another a Charles Wesley hymn. I personally prefer a combination of them all: (1) songs from the past that remind us that there were Christians before us, thus tying us into a sense of historical unity with the Universal Church and (2) newly created songs from the present to acknowledge that we are a living and breathing and growing community of faith, not a record played over and over again, thus following the exhortation of the Psalmist "Hallelujah! Sing to the LORD a new song, his praise in the assembly of the saints." (Ps 149:1. Note that "new song" here is in the context of corporate worship. cf. "new song" Ps 33:3, 40:3, 96:1, 98:1, 144:9, Isaiah 42:10, Revelation 5:9, 14:3).

I suppose that any real dialogue on this subject between an Orthodox and a Protestant would be quite restricted because of the foundational differences in the authority of Tradition. Nonetheless, I felt like I should share my thoughts anyway so that you could hear yet another Protestants perspective on the subject matter of your very eloquent speech.

By the way, I love your voice! I could listen to it all day!

Blessings...

Adam

Sunday, April 02, 2006

My Poor Excuses



I have always had the following rationalizations for not giving money to the poor. Mind you, not necessarily because I just wanted to keep my money (though this is probably an underlying motivation), but because I wasn't sure that giving them money is the best thing to do for them. Instead, for a while, I toted several canned foods in my back seat for the sign-holders at street intersections. Perhaps I was right to do that. Perhaps wrong. I still think it is the best thing to do. But I've since made these curious observations about my excuses and Jesus' words and actions. Do with them what you will...

Excuse 1: "But I'm thousands of dollars in debt! I'm technically poorer than them!"

Jesus Response: The Widow's Mite Mark 12:21-44

Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins,worth only a fraction of a penny.

Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on."

Excuse 2: "But they'll just spend it on drugs and booze." Jesus' Response: The Benevolent Father (a.k.a. "The Prodigal Son) Luke 15:11-31

I won't post the whole thing here, but I'm struck by the fact that the Father just gave it to Him, knowing (I'm sure) full well what his son would spend the money on. And yet he gave it to him anyway. He didn't even give his son a "Now, don't spend it all in one place." He just gives, extravagantly, wastefully, non-sensically, and yet lovingly.

Excuse 3: "I've worked for this money! He/she doesn't deserve it." Jesus' Response: Grace on the Cross.

"I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter into it." Mark 10:15

Grace is just this: giving to someone something they do not deserve. We did not deserve His grace. We didn't earn it. We cannot earn it. He just gave it. And if we are to enter into the life he offers, we must do so like a child, completely empty of any thought of "earning it" or "deserving it." Likewise, are not we supposed to be Christ to the world, like the Benevolent Father, dispensers of Grace completely undeserved?

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

THE TRIUNE NATURE OF ART

Last night in our class on the Arts in the Church, David Taylor spoke of the Triune nature of creation, echoing some thoughts of Dorthy Sayers. It stands this way:


1. Idea = God
2. Formation = Christ/Logos
3. Animation = Spirit

The idea comes from God, Christ is essentially "the hand that forms", and the Spirit is who gives life to the creation.

This is the Triune nature of Creation that is somewhat analogous to the triune nature of an Artist's creation. As I was reflecting on this, I also thought about the first chapter of the book Art and Fear which explains that the importance of art is different between the Artist and the Receiver. It occurred to me that it also seems like the Triune Nature of Art is different between the Artist and the Receiver. I think the Triune nature of Art for the receiver might look something like this:


1. Idea = God
2. Communication = Christ/Logos
3. Inspiration/Response = Spirit


There are essentially three things involved when we humans encounter/receive the Christian God: God, God as seen by/heard by/revealed to Man (i.e., Jesus), and the moving power of God that changes Man as a result of this encounter (i.e., the Spirit). There is the same kind of Triune quality in our reception of Art. There is (1) the Artist's idea/concept that he/she wants to communicate (2) the medium through which that idea is communicated which we see, hear, touch (i.e., the "idea as communicated" through a painting, a story, a film, etc.), and then there is (3) the inspirational power that the communicated idea exerts on the receiver, the way it moves him, affects him, changes him. I don't know...but it's fun to think about.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

A Precis: Art as Adaptation

I was brainstorming further on this idea of Art as Adaptation (i.e. Art ex mundi?) vis-a-vis Art as Creation (i.e., Art ex nihilo). The following is a basic outline of the logic I'm toying with. This is just an idea I'm exploring rather than a dogma I believe in. I'm sure there is fallacy in one or more of these points, and I'd love your insight as to how I could polish this up (or flush it down the artistic Toilet…lol).


Logic: Human Art as Adaptation


1. IF our Art can be described as the creative expression in aesthetic form of what "Is"


2. IF what "Is" can be described as the Creator and His created order including all its physical, metaphysical, and historical-sociological manifestations.


3. IF the created order can be described as the Creator's Art.


4. IF "adaptation" can be described as a rewrite or reworking of a piece of art for another medium.


5. THEN all art is essentially an *attempted adaptation, parody, or satire of the Creator's art.


*Modifier "attempted" because human art is that artist's understanding of what Is, which is not always accurate.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

CHRISTIANS AND THE ART OF ADAPTATION


Adaptation. Every time it is announced that a widely-loved book is going to be adapted into a film, the reaction it causes among the book-lovers is like a drop of soap touching the surface of dirty, oily water -- it scatters. There is always, instantly, a wide circumference of opinions on how it should be done, why it should be done, and even if it should be done at all. Yet these opinions are many branches shooting out from the trunk of the same sincere love for the book, the same reverence for the author, the same hate for the idea of an adaptation that blasphemes the original art and author.

Interesting, I think, that we get the same sort of reaction to the arts in the church. We have the Catholics who embrace the arts, images of Christ's body hanging on the cross, stained glass windows telling Bibles stories, magnificent architecture, ornate robes. On the other extreme we have those who -- like Calvin and Zwingli -- have completely rejected the arts within the church, and stripped their church buildings of anything beautiful because they were afraid that it would lead to -- among other things -- blasphemy. Then we have those who lie somewhere in the middle, which is probably what we see in most Baptist churches today -- hymns, the occasional drama skit, a banner here and there, etc. All perspectives on art in the church stem from the same love for God, and the same respect, the same fear.

I do not think it is an accident that the reactions of Christians appear similar to the reactions of the book lovers. And I wonder if, perhaps, there is even a shared motivation as well.

An idea occurred to me this weekend that I have never heard mentioned before (although I am sure it has been thought of):

"Everything we create as artists, every painting, every song, every story, is really either an adaptation, parody, or satire of the original art of God."

When we paint a picture of Christ we are making an adaptation of God's art in Christ to a painting. A film about Jesus is taking God's original story and adapting it to film. It is only natural and proper, then, that we should pay this adaptation the same kind of reverence -- yes, even more -- that we pay to the adaptation of, for example, the Chronicles of Narnia. C.S. Lewis was utterly repulsed at the idea of a film with Aslan as a man in a lion suit; this, he thought, was blasphemy. What would God think of our art depicting His Christ, I wonder?

Yet, perhaps the same principle should apply when we do any type of art. I used to think of artists as "creators", and that by creating art, we are becoming like the Creator. But now I am not so sure. Now I wonder if not every piece of art we create is really an adaptation of God's original art. The preacher in Ecclesiastes said, "There is nothing new under the sun." (Ecc 1.9) And then Paul writes "For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things." (Romans 11.36) I wonder, are these just passages taken out of context that have absolutely nothing to do with our creations as artists? or are we indeed adapting our Creator's original art in everything we make? If it is the latter, I wonder, how do we keep from blaspheming Him and His art in our own adaptations, our parodies, and our satires?

I welcome any comments as I continue to reflect on this idea. Thanks!

Thursday, December 22, 2005

HAMBURGERS AND HOLLYWOOD: LEARNING HOW TO RECEIVE ART

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about artistic criticism, so I thought I'd share some thoughts that I've been having.

It seems to be a temptation of the intelligencia (I will use this term to describe "people who think and consider things") to artistically define ourselves by what we dislike. I admit that I have often tried to find things that I dislike about something, simply to make myself feel "superior" to those who like it. I remember in high school beginning to think that the movies my dad liked were "so shallow" and "lacked true substance" or "quality form" -- these same movies that only a year before I really enjoyed. When I began working in the film industry, I tried to establish further ideas of what is "bad" in film and art in general, because that is what I saw others doing, and it seemed like a "smart" or "cultured" thing to do -- to not like bad things. I think it also had to do partly with the great dislike I had developed for very BAD Christian art that was so forced and contrived it made me embarrassed to be a Christian.

I suppose this came to a head (or face?) this year in a close friend of mine (who is probably reading this -- Hi! hehe) who dislikes many things that I thoroughly enjoy. The most vivid example is U2: I have experienced such an extraordinary amount of pleasure and spiritual insight by receiving their music, it is unexplainable. But my friend cannot stand to listen to them (Bjork is his preference). My reaction to this was less offence, and more sadness -- a very deep sadness that he will never be able to see the beauty in their music, and we will never be able to share that joy with each other.

Likewise, we watched a movie together this week that I like (Orange County -- not one of my absolute favorites, but one that surprised me with its unusual depth). He didn't like the movie at all. He thought -- among other things -- that there were some illogical decisions by the characters (I pointed out that humans don't always make logical decisions), he doesn't like Jack Black and that kind of humor, and he didn't like "the message," which he thought was "People should stay where they are and not go anywhere else to do anything with their lives," (I argued that the message was "You don't always have to go to some 'ivory tower' to do what you want in life; humble yourself and see beauty where you are). He couldn't receive the joy of this movie at all because of his dislikes, and because of his dislikes, there is a channel of fellowship on which we will never be able to connect.

Thus I have found that the results of my (and other people's) "I don't likes" have been (a) broken channels of connection between myself and ones I love and (b) that I'm now unable to enjoy things I once could enjoy. I can't remember a time that I have NOT been able to enjoy an "artsy" movie -- those movies that are always nominated for Academy Awards and/or get shown in Sundance, etc.. My "artistically-critical evolution" has not been defined by what I enjoy, but rather, what I do NOT like. This may not be the case for everyone, but it has been for me.

This seems to be a very strange thing, indeed it seems to work against the nature of reality as I understand it as a Christian. Broken fellowship is a fundamental thing that Christ works against, indeed the entire salvation story is about the restoration of broken fellowship. We are beckoned by Christ to love each other. And also, it seems like the experience of joy and pleasure is (in the right context) a Godly thing. My dislikes prevented me from experiencing joy, which prevented me from touching the hem of God's garment.

I can put my finger on two things that have been hindrances to me when I watch these movies and listen to this music that I consider to be "bad." The first thing, as I discussed already, was a sense of pride and status I was trying to attain by my dislikes. This is obviously so vain and gratuitous I don't feel the need to discuss it any further.

The second thing... I have come to realize that I seem to be disliking a peach because it is not an orange. This may be true of others as well, but I'll speak in the first person. I think that movies and fiction and perhaps the visual arts should not only fall into different genres but different "types," in the same way that McDonalds and, say, Fuddruckers are different "types" -- both are in the "genre" of "hamburger joint", only one is fast-food, and the other is a restaurant. You don't expect restaurant-quality food when you order something through the drive through, that is not the point of a fast-food restaurant. Fast-food sacrifices quality and (sometimes) cost for convinence, and it does so on purpose. People generally do not get fast food because it is the best tasting food, they do it so that they can have more time to do other things. Likewise most people (though -- as a former waiter -- I have certainly seen exceptions!) do not go to a sit-in restaurant and expect their food to be out within two minutes.

When I expect the wrong thing, I am disappointed. When I try to receive fast food as I would a nice restaurant, I will be disappointed and I won't experience the "pleasure" for which fast food exists (i.e, saving time). When I go to a restaurant and get steamed when my food doesn't arrive in five minutes, my disappointment poisons the entire experience of the restaurant and the food, leaving a bitter attitude in my heart toward the restaurant hence forward.

I believe it is the same thing when I approach, say, an MTV movie and try to receive it as I would something in Sundance -- or vice versa -- I'm going to be disappointed. I need to position myself in such a way that I receive art as it is intended to be received. I brace myself one way when someone hands me a coke; I brace myself another way when someone hands me a sandbag. An MTV movie, or a lifetime movie, is not really intended to be the most artistic, innovative, inspiring work a person has ever seen; it is meant to entertain a generation. When it entertains AND inspires or innovates, it is something extra, something special. It is the same kind of experience I receive when I am surprised by fast food that is actually quite good.

I don't think it is a good idea for me to make an entire diet out of fast food (see Supersize Me). It is not intended to be used that way. Likewise I do not think it is a good idea for me to make my entire artistic diet out of MTV movies or John Grisham -- art that merely entertains. Nor do I think its a good idea to make my artistic diet completely out of movies shown at Sundance, Academy Award nominees, etc. that are more substantive and artistic because I need to be able to "keep it real" and not lose touch with the rest of the community. There needs to be a balance: mere entertainment is good; so is substance. Also, I know that I, personally, should make every effort to widen (not narrow) the scope of art that I can take joy in.

I'm curious to hear what everyone else thinks about this...

Monday, December 12, 2005

Shadows and Similarities

Just a thought...

Hebrews chapter 10 talks about how the law and the elements of the law were all simply a shadow of what was to come in Christ and the new covenant. It is a beautiful concept that really sheds light on our Creator as "author" and "storyteller"!

This sort of Platonic ideal of "shadows of ultimate reality" made me consider the similarities to the Christian story found in myths and other religions. The gluttony of present academics in comparitive religion and the disciples of Joseph Campbell seems to say either, "Look, they're all similar, so they must all be the same thing," or "See, this myth came way before the Gospels were written, so the evangelists must have stolen the ideas from them." No one in those specialized fields (that I know of) seems to consider the -- albeit metaphysical, but quite logical -- possibility of these other religions and myths being an imperfect shadow of the reality that was to come in Christ. It seems to be what Lewis and Tolkien believed, anyway. If anyone reading this knows of any theologians or religious academics that have written on this, please let me know. Thanks!

Friday, December 09, 2005

NARNIA CONTRAVERSY: IS NARNIA "CHRISTIAN" (AND DOES IT MATTER)?

The second source of controversy is the issue of whether or not the Narnia books (and thus the movie) are "Christian," and if Lewis has a Christian agenda (i.e., evangelization, teaching theology, etc.) with his books. I will handle these questions separately.

Both questions regarding the "Christianity" of Narnia seem to me such a silly thing to debate about. Who cares? However, what I think is serious is that people are refusing to see the movie based on the answer to that question. They are robbing themselves of so much.

The first people are those who are not Christians, and refuse to allow themselves and their children to be subjected to the "subliminal teaching" of Christian dogma through the film. However, what they do not consider is that if a dogma is to be considered "Christian" and not merely "religious," then it must consist of ideals that are uniquely Christian and not shared with any other religion. The only elements in the story that could be considered "Christian dogma" (that I can remember at the moment) are (1) reference to the children as "Sons and daughters of Adam and Eve," (2) the presence of Christmas and (3) the death and resurrection of Aslan.

In reference to the first point, the belief of Adam and Eve is held not only by Christians, but Islam and Judaism as well. Yet still, the story does not revolve or hang upon this point at all. It is simply a way -- I think -- to enrich the story with myth. Also, these people do not consider that there are many other mythologies besides the Christian myth that are similarly spoken of in a matter-of-fact way; we see fauns, dryads, and centaurs frolicking the Narnian fields as well. In the book, we even see the Greek god Baccus as well, and Mr. Beaver speaks of Adam's first wife -- Lillith -- as the origin of the White Witch. The mythology of Lillith is not at all a widely held belief by Christians, and is found nowhere in the Christian scriptures. Thus, to think that the reference to Adam and Eve is a didactic theological tool is, I think, inconsistant and illogical.

The second element -- Christmas -- is uniquely Christian (in origin), yet today's Christmas is hardly more tied to Christianity than Halloween. To most, it is simply a time when people get and give presents to each other, and decorate their homes and businesses in green and red. And really, the giving of presents is all that we see in Lion, and that through the myth of St. Nicholas. Christmas could also be tied to the coming of Aslan into Narnia, but again, I think this connection (if he meant one) was more for the sake of enriching the story with mythos -- Aslan being clearly a Christ figure -- than a didactic tool.

Which brings us to the third point -- the death and resurrection of Aslan. This is the point that most people raise when speaking of the Christian dogma in the story. However, theologically the death and resurrection of Aslan serves a different purpose than the death and resurrection of Christ. The death and resurrection of Christ was for the express purpose of restoring community between God and man (i.e., through faith in Christ we can spend eternity in fellowship with God). God is the central figure in the purpose of Christ's crucifixion. However, the crucifixion of Aslan was not to restore community between God and man, it was to allow Edmund to live in spite of his sin; fellowship with God (or "The Emperor Over the Sea") has nothing to do with it. Truly, you can no more call Lion a Christian book because of Aslan's death than you can call Harry Potter a "Christian story" because of Harry's mother dying to save him from death by Voldemort. As far as the resurrection is concerned, that concept is not exclusive to Christianity either but is found in Norse, Egyptian, and Greek mythologies as well.

Therefore, I think it is a logical fallacy to call Lion a "Christian story" or to say that it teaches Christian dogma. And it is a sad case that anyone would miss the wonder and enchantment of Narnia based on that charge. On that note, I think it is sad that people would get offended by the Christian story at all simply because it is different than their religion (or lack of religion). The Gospel is, in itself, a touching and enchanting story of love and sacrifice. Many other religions have very interesting stories as well: the story of the Dahli Lama, the Greek myths, the Jewish Maccabean revolution, etc. Just because it is a story from a different religion doesn't mean that it is empty of meaning or enchantment. They are certainly far from "uninteresting." So why deny yourself these rich stories?

However unfortunately, using the same explanation for the non-Christianity of Narnia above, many Christians refuse to see the movie. To these people, about the only thing that makes a "good movie" is if it has someone converting to Christianity, "accepting Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Savior." This is equally sad, because these people are also missing the powerfully enchanting story of Lion, and countless other stories.

These Christians are looking for truth, and good for them. All Christians should be seeking to know Him more and more. However, Christian truth is not only found in the four spiritual laws. It also encompasses love, sacrifice, consequence, honesty, bravery, beauty, and so much more, all in the Lion.

And beauty, especially, is such a vessel of God's truth. C.S. Lewis came to believe in God not because someone shared with him the four spiritual laws, or even because they proved God's existence through apologetics. God made Himself evident to Lewis through moments of wonder and joy he experienced through art, music, literature, and nature (see Lewis autobiography Surprised By Joy), mediums which no one would consider "Christian" in the strictest sense. This is how God revealed His presence to Lewis. Also in Lewis' conversion from Theism to Christianity, God chose to use Viking myths (among other things) to help show him that the story of Christ must be true. Beauty and fantasy creates a sense of awe in a person, and a deep longing for that which no one can find in this world. It makes us hungry for God. We could all use a bit more hunger in our lives.

Whatever faith, whatever creed, whatever life you live, and whether Narnia is "Christian" or not, please do not rob yourself of these Narnia stories, or any good stories of any kind for that matter. As a Christian, I see that God is the ultimate storyteller. No one can match Him. The entire salvation history has played out in a beautiful story. The scriptures tell us that Christ came at the appointed time, meaning that God was waiting for the perfect place in the story to send His Son. The law with all of its specifications was nothing more than a foreshadowing of what was to come in Christ, and what is yet to come in the eschaton, the apocalypse. He loves good stories, and so should we. God and Truth can inspire and be revealed in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and this can be easily seen in Romans 1.

He is not a tame lion, you know.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

NARNIA CONTROVERSIES: Should Narnia be made into a film?

[I do want to try to keep this blog within circle of theology, but I simply can't help but to address some issues I see coming up with this Narnia film. And besides, part of the study of God is understanding how He relates to culture...so here goes!]

With the looming advent of Aslan’s incarnation on the big screen, my favorite author -- C.S. Lewis -- is becoming almost annoyingly ubiquitous in the media, and Barnes and Nobles is waist-high in books on and by the man. Yet alas, I do have my ticket to the 12:01 a.m. showing of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and I’m very eager to see it.

Yet however exciting this advent may be, I find it unsettling that there are so many heated discussions and grave misunderstandings going on as to (a) whether or not Narnia books should be made into movies and (b) whether or not the Narnia books are “Christian.” I thought I would enter my two cents on it, and my perspective of what “Jack” (the name Lewis gave to himself) would think. I will take great pains to quote Lewis and authorities on Lewis as much as possible because…frankly… who cares what I think? I will do this in two parts.

I. SHOULD NARNIA BE MADE INTO A LIVE ACTION FILM?

This first issue deals with a letter by Lewis that you can read here (you can also read a relevant article here). Among other things, Lewis says:

“But I am absolutely opposed – adamant isn’t in it! – to a TV version. Anthropomorphic animals, when taken out of narrative into actual visibility, always turn into buffoonery or nightmare. At least, with photography. Cartoons (if only Disney did not combine so much vulgarity with his genius!) wld. be another matter. A human, pantomime, Aslan wld. be to me blasphemy.”

It is the same mistake people have when they try to interperet the Bible -- they are not considering context before they come to their conclusions. People are reading this then imagining Lewis and Tolkien having just left the premiere of Return of the King. Instead, they should be imagining Lewis and Tolkien having just walked out of Journey to the Center of the Earth starring Pat Boone in 1959. Yeah... quite a difference.

This summer I was graced with the privilege of meeting with Walter Hooper (former secretary to Lewis and literary adviser to the Lewis Estate) twice while we were visiting Oxford. During our tea, we talked about film as art, and I remember him saying that Lewis did not really like movies (though he did frequent the theatre), however this was probably because films overall were not very good. They did not have the technology we have now. I also had the tremendous privilege of spending a week of this summer working at the Rathvinden, the home and ministry of Douglas Gresham (stepson of C.S. Lewis and co-producer of Lion). I asked him about what Lewis would think about Narnia being made into a film, and he said he would have abhorred the idea back then, but with the technology we have now, it is a totally different story. In a recent e-mail, Doug said, "I wouldn't have wanted to make the film with the technology available in those days either."

All-in-all, it is really a non-issue, but the media is trying to make an issue out of it. Idiotic. However, with retrospect, I have no idea how the BBC movies in the late 80's were approved. Of these, I remember Doug saying, "...and I'm proud to say I had absolutely nothing to do with those." I remember enjoying those movies as a kid, however, the technical quality was poor, and Aslan -- very underwhelming.

Oh, and if you want to get really technical -- Lewis approved cartoon animals/Aslan. Well...what is CGA but computer-drawn cartoons?

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Welcome

Welcome to my blog! This blog will focus primarily on theological ramblings. So, please enjoy by either marveling at my mysterious theological insight or by pointing fingers and laughing at my absolute stupidity.

For those of you who are not familiar with it, "Flatland" comes from the book "Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions," written by Edwin Abbott. It is a sort or "what if" about people that live in a 2 dimensional world that come into contact with 3 dimensions, an I idea that -- I think -- has curious ramifications on how we think about God and the supernatural realm in general. If you would like to read the book, it is now in open domain and can be found here. I am a Flatlander, and am earnestly trying to wrap my mind around this person of God. And this blog is where I have my theological catharsis... a way to glorify God with my mind.