Movies and Theology - Equilibrium

I had no intention of posting this today, especially since I just did those book reviews, and I don’t like to do so many movies and books so close together, but I started writing notes on the movie I saw last night in order to remember points and found myself with a full-blown post (and an even longer sentence). So here it is. No spoilers. I talk about the movie itself and then some thoughts it led me to.

Premise: after a third world war, the powers that be realize that man could not survive a fourth, so they seek to eradicate the cause: emotions. If emotions cause rage and jealousy, and rage and jealousy cause war, then it is better to do away with them, sacrificing love and joy and the like for the sake of so-called peace. People take their injections of Prozium, which I’m sure you’ll recognize as Prozac, to deaden their feelings. No grief, no sadness, the government says. Sense offenders, which are anything from those who harbor works of art such as the Mona Lisa or a book by Keats to those who collect odds and ends like perfume bottles and record players and old Mother Goose books (sounds like my husband’s grandfather) to those who dare to love. The scene that got me: women and children were found rescuing and caring for dogs. They killed the dogs. I can’t handle animals getting hurt. I closed my eyes and tried to plug my ears to block out the yelps. The top cleric (the specially trained agents who seek and kill sense offenders in order to keep order—I’ll get to the whole cleric thing in a minute) sees something that awakens a corner of feeling in him. He plays with it. Stops taking his Prozium (itself against the law), allows himself to linger over the harbored objects of beauty to be destroyed, and aligns himself with the rebellion. The friend that loaned us the movie likened it to The Matrix. I think it’s more like V for Vendetta, personally.

One complaint: the movie did a great job of developing the main character’s character (ha!), growing his feelings and emotions and appreciation for beauty. And it had great fight scenes. However, in the climax, I felt jilted. Things went along too easily. (I tried to comment so much to my husband, but he shushed me so that he could fully enjoy the fighting.) There were two scenes in particular: one the Ordeal, one the Road Back with that death scene climax, that could have been developed and heightened, in my opinion.

Oh, two complaints, really: I had a hard time with the premise, that anyone would accept the wiping out of all emotion as the solution. Without gentleness and empathy, one easily kills (as you see in the movie). And, there seem to be some accepted emotions: pride or anger when it’s on the “right” side, so that seemed to be out of sync.

Props: the ending had a couple of surprises I was not expecting (hence the surprise) but really enjoyed. They did a good job with that. I won’t say anything more.

The movie stars the guy from Swing Kids and Batman Begins (Christian Bale), Boromir from Lord of the Rings (Sean Bean, also in The Island, National Treasure), Benjamin Coffin from Rent (Taye Diggs), and the guy who played Robert the Bruce in Braveheart (Angus Macfadyen). Also, the girl from Punch-Drunk Love and Gosford Park (Emily Watson) was in it, and Lincoln Burrows from Prison Break makes an appearance. (See, isn’t it so much better to go ahead and take care of these things from the start? Now you won’t have to sit through the movie going, where have I seen that guy?)

The governing power outlawing everything beautiful and everything emotional are associated with Christianity. Their symbol is a cross, and their top trained agents are clerics. I find this ironic for a couple of reasons. First, Christians have always maintained that God created emotions as part of humanity. Granted, some weigh logic as better than emotions instead of equal, and very few go to an extreme as to say emotions are bad. But it’s the same with anyone, Christian or not, in our Western Society. Second, we have a Creator God who looked at this beauty He made and said, It is good. He gave us the capacity to create and to appreciate the waterfalls and the sunsets (some even, the sunrise, if you can awake in time) and the snow-capped mountains. He made the rainbow as a promise. He directs us to an end even more beautiful than the beginning, if that can be possible (which, obviously, it is)—more on that tomorrow. Third, technically, this ideology, of getting rid of emotions, belongs to Eastern religions such as Hindu and Buddhist. While the end goal of Christianity is to have perfect humanity, perfect in emotion, reason, and body, each individual personality in its most beautiful state, glorified, in other words (words that the Bible uses), the end goal of Hinduism and Buddhism is getting rid of personality to meld into one, one essence, one nirvana, the One. This sounds lovely, really. I mean, who doesn’t want to be part of the One that flows in everything? But it does mean ridding yourself of your own personality, emotions, reason, body, the whole bit.

This brings me to another point: peace done man’s way v. peace done God’s way. They are trying to control things, forcing a community together to fight, well, fighting. But in their way, they do away with everything beautiful. And it’s controlling, manipulative, and power-hungry, even if their original intentions were good. In God’s way, though, we “fight” with all the things that the government in this movie tries to wipe out: love, charity, gentleness, beauty, selflessness, generosity. God’s way is covert and surprising. God’s way protects the weak and the hurt and the poor doggies (I’m still not over that scene). Which brings us to the role of the cleric. In the movie, the role of the cleric was calculating and controlling while we know that in God’s body, the role of the cleric is shepherding, loving, caring, encouraging, willing to leave the 99 safe ones to go out on a limb (like a shepherd reaching for that stuck sheep) for the one lost. This is the hard (and that darn convicting) point for me. Isn’t it more fun to be with the 99? Isn’t it more gratifying? Isn’t it more strategic, even? Isn’t it just easier? But as a shepherd, we’re called to the lost one. No, the numbers aren’t behind us. Nor is the guarantee. Who knows if that one druggie or one woman who had an affair or one guy who left the church because Friday nights at the bar are more fun or one child who has a habit of biting as his only form of communication or one girl who thinks her only recourse is abortion will come to Christ? Who knows if our efforts will be wasted?

In the end, I think I’ll wait for God’s peace and God’s community, which will be in perfect harmony with Him, each other, and nature, thank you very much.

Update: I knew I'd forget something. Not important, but interesting to me. The main character's breaking point comes while he's listening to Beethoven's third symphony, the Eroica (which is not erotica but Hero) Symphony, originally dedicated to Napoleon, who, of course, is related to the French Revolution. (Later, the dedication was scratched out when Napoleon declared himself Emporer and proved himself to be just another tyrant.) I wonder if the film makers meant to associate that moment and the resistant's movement with the French Revolution.
And Real Live Preacher is right: it's not a particularly great movie, although I enjoyed it and felt it worth the two hours, though I wouldn't put it on my top ten by any means. He likens it to 1984. I would add Brave New World.

What does it mean to be human?

For those who haven't been to Sandi's blog today, you might want to follow this link to hear Bono's acceptance speech at the NAACP awards. Now, before you get all up in arms with me (I know some of you have differences with Bono and some of you think the NAACP a desolation), the reason I think this speech is so good is because he draws out our responsibility to love our neighbor as ourselves.
Plus, I just like Bono.

Unity: Pumping the Prime and Priming the Pump

This post has been a long time coming. Today will just be some initial thoughts.
I’m talking about unity among the Church (with a capital C, meaning the universal church, which encompasses the local churches, of course).
I love Ephesians. I love all its growing togetherness and one body and one Lordness. I think one verse in particular has been sequestered from Ephesians, an arm chopped off from its body, mutilated, and waved at anyone I deem offending.
“Speaking the truth in love,” as most translations have it. And then we use it to say something to the effect of, “I’m telling you this for your own good,” and proceed to explain how we think they are horribly wrong. I’m not saying we should never practice church discipline. I think the Matthew passage and Paul’s use in I Corinthians (I think or is it I Thess? I’m too lazy to check) are excellent examples. This, however, I think refers to something else entirely.
Let’s look first at the context surrounding this phrase. It fits in a section, which begins, “4:1 I, therefore, the prisoner for the Lord, urge you to live worthily of the calling with which you have been called, 4:2 with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 4:3 making every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. 4:4 There is one body and one Spirit, just as you too were called to the one hope of your calling, 4:5 one Lord, one faith, one baptism, 4:6 one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.” (NET)
Not only is all of Ephesians dedicated to the unity of all believers, but more specifically, this passage climaxes with the idea. After verse six, Paul goes on to describe the different gifts God gives to the body (teachers, evangelists, prophets, pastors, you know the drill). Why are these gifts given? To attain the unity of the faith and the knowledge of the Son of God. (Notice how these things work together, which makes me wonder: if we don’t have unity, do we not truly have the knowledge of the Son?)
What happens when we have these things? We are no longer deceived by schemes and tricks, but (and here’s where are verse comes in), we can truth in love (the Greek is a participle, so truthing in love—I like that, truthing in love).
Our phrase is a contrast to being deceived. It also leads to growing up—not individually (as we Westerners understand everything)—but as part of the body. The body grows together, and it grows in love.
Now, let me note that I’m not saying we just accept everything willy-nilly and cry “Unity!” But often, the phrase is used by one individual to another individual who has the same core beliefs, with a good finger shaking. “She was wrong, and I was speaking the truth in love.” Or “he did that wrong” (which, when we really look at it is, he did that in a way that I didn’t like).
Okay, back to some observations, than I have an example for you: a disgusting look at my life, to be specific.
The Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible) uses the verb in its participle form (as it is here) five times, never meaning speaking the truth, but living in a way that understands the reality of a situation.
Paul also uses it in Galatians 4, meaning he was speaking the truth (“by speaking the truth”) to them in a context where throughout the book he was correcting their theology when they entrapped themselves in practices inconsistent with the freedom of the gospel. The context is entirely different.
All these things considered, I think it is best to say “practicing the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into Christ, who is the head,” (NET) or, as the NLT has it, “we will hold to the truth in love.” The nuance here is not telling others what to do, but together practicing an ethic that transforms us more and more like Christ.
Fine print: I ascertained this information from my Greek class with Dr. Dan Wallace many years ago, from Harold Hoener’s commentary on Ephesians, and from the NET bible notes.
Personal story (sorry this is getting so long): There is a man that I often disagree with. The conversations center around modern v. postmodern situations and the nature of Christianity being outside of v. part of culture. We fought vehemently several times, and each time, we would both realize our guilt of acting unlovingly. We would ask each other for forgiveness. Then we would fight again. Eventually, I think we both realized the same thing. I saw that he is a man seeks first God’s kingdom, loving God and loving his neighbor (even if he did it in a way that I didn’t like). He has sacrificed to follow God. He ministers to people to whom I couldn’t, and I minister to people he could not reach. We both believe that Christ died and rose for us and has the victory over sin and death. This does not mean that I always agree with him. It does not mean that I have to stop believing what I believe. It just means that we can be around each other as fellow Christians knowing that we both love God. I do not have to “speak the truth in love” to him, and he doesn’t to me. In fact, we don’t have to talk about the sore subject at all. It’s not avoidance. We both know what the other thinks, but we can focus on commonalities and our joy in Christ.
I struggle with this, but I’m coming to believe that Christ, being the Truth, is seen more in my loving than in my speaking (although I like the speaking too much for my own good, especially when I'm right, which, let's face it, we all think we're right, which is why we believe what we do).
Jesus prayed for us, all believers every where at all times, right before he died. He prayed “they will all be one, just as you, Father, are in me and I am in you. I pray that they will be in us, so that the world will believe that you sent me.”
So that’s my deep (and long - hey, like the song: deep and wide, deep and wide, there's a fountain flowing deep and wide) thinking for today.

All the science in the world

"Danger, Will Robinson" post!
Not too long ago, my husband and I watched one of the shows in the series, The Hawking Paradox, based on the scientific discoveries of – three guesses – Stephen Hawking. So for the past, I don’t know, 30, 40 yrs, he’s been studying black holes as part of his research on the big bang theory. (Caveat: I’m no physicist. I don’t claim to be. What I’m writing is an example of Western culture, so bare – or is it bear? – with me while I attempt to explain something over my head.) At some point, Hawking looked at the evidence and said that the matter (or information, as this show termed it) being sucked into the black hole doesn’t just compact more and more to some crazy density, but when the black hole disappears (if I remember correctly, he observed the disappearance of black holes – not that he ever saw the black holes themselves, but a black spot that scientists assume are black holes, so I guess observing the disappearance of a black hole would be to re-see matter, see something where the black spot was – oy vey), so when the black hole disappears, so does the matter.
What! the other scientists exclaimed. That goes against one of Newton’s laws (the one that says that matter doesn’t disappear, nor does it appear, everything is here – I’m wording that terribly, but as I said, not the scientist, and I think you guys all recognize the law I’m trying to describe, albeit pitifully). Proofs and more proofs crowded chalkboards and composition notebooks everywhere. (Anyone see that play, Proof ? Excellent play.) And you can imagine the implications – if there are black holes in the universe being sucked away, how long until everything is sucked away. And if there are black holes in the universe, then there are black holes in our own brains sucking away our memory (yes, I can see you all falling back on that one as an excuse – sounds like a Calvin excuse for not finishing his test). Then Hawking stands on the stage of some major convention (last minute, of course, and everyone makes way). I’ve found the answer! You see, he says, there are black holes and they disappear and take away this matter (or information or energy), but it’s okay because there are parallel universes, so it’s all good. Even Stephen. The media went wild, and the physicists thought Hawking had one too many knocks to the head.
Now here’s my point with all of this. A few years ago, I read C.S. Lewis’ The Discarded Image (highly recommend it for any of you who enjoy the study of culture). As we all know, Lewis’ specialty at Oxford was Medieval and Renaissance literature. This is his text book of sorts. I love studying other cultures, especially the medieval and its transition to modern and enlightenment, because it helps me better understand the culture we’ve been in and the transition we’ve been experiencing. The best part of TDI was the epilogue in which Lewis says that he doesn’t mean to highlight the Medieval Model (Lewis uses the term Model where we would use culture or worldview) as the epitome of mankind. He doesn’t think we should go back to it. He thinks Models/cultures shift, and that’s okay.
But let me get to my point with this post (the crowd cheers).
Here’s what Lewis says about how science fits into all of the model-shifting:

“The demand for a developing word—a demand obviously in harmony both with the
revolutionary and the romantic temper—grows up first; when it is full grown the
scientists go to work and discover the evidence on which our belief in that sort
of universe would now be held to rest. There is no question here of the old
Model’s being shattered by the inrush of new phenomena. The truth would seem to
be the reverse; that when changes in the human mind produce a sufficient
disrelish of the old Model and a sufficient hankering for some new one,
phenomena to support that new one will obediently turn up. I do not at all mean
that these new phenomena are illusory. Nature has all sorts of phenomena in
stock and can suit many different tastes” (p. 221).

In other words, there’s enough science in the world to prove anything, and the science now is shifting to suit the next paradigm, just as it shifted to support the modern paradigm. We’re not always improving, as Modernism claimed. We’re just always changing. And now we have alternate universes, possibilities of life on other planets, and What the Bleep? to sustain our chosen path.
In missions, I repeated this mantra: It’s not wrong, it’s just different.

I'm Only Human...

Blogging gives me an ideal spot for airing out all my pets and peeves. And I can get out all those crazy wonderings, the ones that usually get me those, “um, where’s the straight-jacket?” looks. Today I’ll do a little of both.
Pet: Someone messes up and as explanation claims, “I’m only human.” The account of creation in Genesis, whether you believe it to be a literal 6 days, stretched out 6 days, done through evolution or what have you, asserts several points. First, God is sovereign over His creation. Second, humans are special and primary in this creation (rather than an accident, after thought, or result of a sexual encounter, as the creation stories from other religions allege). Third, that God created humans in His image, and He declared them good. Yes, absolutely, in the Fall and every time I fail to love God or love my neighbor, I taint that image. But it’s still there. So “I’m only human” is something to live up to, not something to fall back on. Jesus is the only one to walk this earth and be truly human. Someday, whoever depends on Jesus for their right-standing with God will learn what it means to be truly human, with perfect bodies exuding the image of God, in harmony with God, each other, and nature. So, no, don’t tell me “I’m only human” when you mess up. Tell me you acted a little less humanly.
Peeve: Whenever someone sees some sampling of good in the world, someone who puts themselves in a dangerous position to save another sort of thing, they sigh and say, “He must be an angel.”
What?
How bout this? He must have actually let his Imago Dei (image of God) shine through. He must have just for one moment lived up to what he was created to be.
There is a verse that says that we need to be hospitable and caring of others cuz you never know when you are entertaining angels. Note: we need to be nice because we might have angels in our presence, not the other way around. The angels are the recipients. Other references to angels include messengers, sword-wielding warriors fighting demonic forces in a realm we don’t see, and those that serve in the presence of God. None of this is baby butt-cheeks playing a miniscule harp with curls framing a pudgy face.
Here’s what I think: as long as we say it was an angel, we don’t have to set that as a standard to which we should attain. Just like my flute students. If they preempt the whole thing with, “I can’t,” they think they have a way out and they don’t have to practice. (Little do they know with whom they deal!)
So to the crazy wonderings: My dad said once that he believes that when Jesus calmed that storm, he was being truly human (rather than demonstrating divine powers). In the beginning (I love those words. They mean story time.), man was created as caretaker of the world, over the world, naming things and caring for them and keeping them in check. Humans should be able to calm storms. Of course, because we are fallen and corrupt and decaying and would use that power for our own agenda (or should I say, we do use that power for our own agenda), we can’t calm a storm. Or walk on water, or fly (except in planes). So in that day when God restores everything to good, will we be able to walk on water and fly? I mean, in Rev. 21 and 22, it says the city is a mile high. How else will we get to the top?
Okay, I’ve rambled enough. So here’s to fairy dust and Superman and caring for the least of these.