Gathering Voices: Faithful Conversations from The Thoughtful Christian

Fight Films That Are About More Than Fighting by Edward McNulty

Are you one of those who believe that boxing is a terrible sport because it requires its participants to deliberately try to injure the opponent to win the match—and yet find yourself drawn to films about the sport any way? I know I am, having enjoyed The Champ, Rocky, and a ring full of others. Last year’s The Fighter, based on the true story of two brothers and their families, who fought almost as much among themselves as in the ring, made my Top Ten Films list for my Visual Parables.

The appeal of such films, of course, is not the fighting, but the events beyond the ring, with underdog characters facing great odds outside the ring as well as within it. And now two more films are out centering on the fight game, though not exactly the traditional sport.

             
 

The sport in Warrior (Rated R) is Mixed Martial Arts, which involves kicking and wrestling, as well as boxing. There are two estranged brothers, Brendan (Joel Edgerton) a schoolteacher and the other Tommy (Tom Hardy) a Marine gone AWOL from Iraq. Each has good motives for going back to a sport they had given up years before. They have not spoken in years, but the one thing they agree on is that their alcoholic father Paddy (Nick Nolte) is no good, even if he has quit drinking and is trying to reform his life and reconnect with them. No one thinks either has a chance in the Big Tournament, but of course they do advance—and when they meet each other in the ring, we are not sure for whom to root. One of the strangest reconciliation scenes climaxes a long action sequence that keeps the audience leaning toward the screen.

Real Steel (Rated PG-13) surprised me in that it was not a pale imitation of the Transformer movies, but turned out to be a heart-felt father/son story. Hugh Jackman plays Charlie Kenton, once a boxing contender who came along too late to make a name for himself, 8-foot robots displacing human boxers in the ring. The sport of 2020 thus adds the crashing excitement of demolition derby to that of boxing. Director Shawn Levy’s film owes much to The Champ in that the appealing Dakota Goyo plays Charlie’s scrappy 11 year-old son Max. Unable to handle the responsibility of fatherhood, Charlie had left his wife shortly after Max was born and had not seen him since. Now his wife has died, leaving Max’s fate in Charlie’s hands. Her sister and wealthy husband want the boy, but have to leave the country during the summer for business reasons. Charlie secretly works out a deal with the husband to sell custody of Max for a large sum of money, but the deal requires him to take care of his son while they are away.

Max is less than happy to be with the father who had never been a part of his life, but Charlie’s work of piecing together a robot to fight in underground matches intrigues the boy, who soon displays an aptitude for robots. Through a series of events, which includes their finding in a junkyard an old but still intact robot which they call Atom, the two draw closer together. With the boy’s brains and Charlie’s boxing skills they turn the small robot (of course it has to be small compared to its opponents, or this wouldn’t be an underdog tale) into a formidable fighter.

If you liked Rocky and The Iron Giant, chances are you’ll like this one too, both films being paid tribute by the director. At least in this film there are no humans in the ring absorbing the terribly punishing blows from the opponent.

Reflections on the D Day Beaches

A Gathering Voices post by Lynne M. Baab

My husband’s interests took us to the D Day beaches in Normandy a couple of weeks ago. He has read a lot about D Day, and of course he has seen Saving Private Ryan and other movies about the invasion.

On our first day, we drove along the coastline, going west from the mouth of the Seine River at Honfleur, and my husband told me things. About the hedgerows that had ridges of earth underneath the hedges that caused gliders to crash. About the variety in the experience of the various battalions. Some found it easy to gain access to the beach where they were sent, and other had to scale cliffs and suffered huge losses of life. Even on that first afternoon, I found myself moved to see the beaches and fields that illustrated the stories my husband was telling me.

On our second morning he visited a museum about the invasion while I answered email and read. Over lunch he told me about the engineering feat involved in constructing breakwaters and landing ramps so trucks and tanks were able to drive off ships onto the beaches. We were staying at Arromanches, a small town that has left a lot of the breakwaters in its harbor and landing ramps on its beaches, so I could easily visualize the engineering challenges my husband was describing. (Some photos we took of Arromanches are here.)

That afternoon we went to the American cemetery at Omaha Beach, the burial site of 9,387 Americans, mostly very young when they died. The cemetery is set right on the top of the cliffs where Americans soldiers had had such a hard time gaining access and where so many of them died. The rows upon rows of white crosses, punctuated with the occasional Star of David, brought tears to my eyes.

As I walked along the rows of grave markers, I found myself saying to God, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Then I began to reflect on my words. Why am I sorry? I’m certainly sad for the mothers and fathers and family members and friends who lost their beloved family members in the war fought on this land.

But I didn’t participate in anything remotely resembling the situation in Nazi Germany. Am I falling into my common trap of taking too many things on my shoulders, of feeling responsible for actions that have nothing to do with me?

Yes and no. Yes, because I’m certainly not responsible for the sins of the world. Jesus Christ can and did bear the sins of the world. I don’t have to do it. But I can certainly feel sad at the level of violence that permeates human life.

And . . . I’m responsible for my own sin. There’s that family member who irritates me. Well, two or three if I’m honest. There have been all too many moments on our vacation when I wanted to tear into my husband for minor offenses, and a few when I actually did speak the rude words rolling around in my head. And then there’s my self-indulgent streak. I’m a sinner, no different in many respects from the sinners who caused the war that killed all the people lying in rows in the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach. Or the sinners who drove planes into the twin towers, for that matter. I’m not responsible for their sins, to be sure, but I am responsible for my own. Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us. I'm so sorry.

Daily Feast

The word “feast” brings to mind a bountiful table laden with all sorts of mouth-watering food. At this time of year, we can already anticipate the annual Thanksgiving feast.  As friends and family gather, either at Thanksgiving or another time, there is the opportunity for rich conversation as bread is broken and shared. Both body and soul are fed, and nobody leaves the table hungry!

When the resource Feasting on the Word became available, readers were given an opportunity to feast upon the lectionary texts and the consequent reflections from four perspectives: theological, pastoral, exegetical, and homiletical. Each week we were invited to taste and see a familiar biblical text through the lens of those who wrestled with it  as theologian, pastor, exegete, and preacher. Each week we were then able to pull all those ingredients together into a rich feast as we prepared for Sunday worship.

When the two of us were offered the opportunity to look at these perspectives through the lens of an editor, selecting bite sized parts of the meditations, we knew it would not be an easy task.  Because Daily Feast is primarily a devotional resource, we, too, approached the editing and writing as a spiritual practice.  Taking each week, we read the lectionary texts and the meditations and sat with them.  We allowed ourselves to slow down, to listen to the words and to see how reflections connected with the text.  The process was a spiritual time for us, and now, we hope, will be for the readers as well.

We think that Daily Feast might be used in so many different ways:

• Daily meditation: Begin or end your day with a reading and reflection on one of the texts for the week.
• Journaling: As you read, think, and pray, journal in response to the thoughts that are evoked for you. Some find that journaling with words works best. Others find that having markers, crayons, or water colors invites a different kind of imaging in response to text.
• Preparing for preaching or worship leadership: Have a copy of the book available to give to liturgists and choir directors, all those involved in worship leadership. As staff or worship teams work on liturgy and prepare for worship leadership, this book can become a resource for meditation and prayer, and may even be adapted for use in worship.
• Preparing for teaching: Use in your own meditation during the week as you prepare your heart and mind to teach all ages of God’s children.
• Reaching out beyond the church: Use in a variety of settings where a pastoral presence is invited to participate, such as social agencies, health-care facilities, hospitals, prisons, mission trips.
• Beginning or concluding an adult class in the church school: Read a selection and a prayer as a time of centering.
• In committee meetings or staff meetings: Use a Daily Feast selection as an opening meditation.

We hope that our experience will be yours. So take some time. Read the text. Read the reflection. Consider your response, and be in prayer. May this resource be a Daily Feast for you!

Lib Caldwell and Kathy Bostrom

Daily Feast is offered at 40% off from The Thoughtful Christian! Now only $15.

Greed

Greed

A Gathering Voices Post by Don McKim

 

A few months ago, I did a vide on “What Does the Reformed Traditions Say About Greed?” for the “Joining Hands” section of the General Assembly Mission Council of the Presbyterian Church (USA) website. The link is: http://gamc.pcusa.org/ministries/joininghands/support-trade-reform/.

I have a few more thoughts on this topic which follow from the video:

When greed is the motivation for our lives, we are cut off from God; and we sin both against God and against other people. By our greed, we are taking for ourselves more than we need—“excess”; and thus depriving what helps may be given to others. This is why, in the Heidelberg Catechism in our Book of Confessions, a warning against greed is found in the discussion of what is forbidden in the eighth commandment, which is: “You shall not steal” (Exodus 20:15).  God forbids, says the Catechism, “all greed and misuse and waste of his gifts” (Book of Confessions 4.110). Greed is a form of stealing; because we are claiming for ourselves that which could rightly be given to others.

For Calvin, “greediness” is “contrary to moderation” (Comm. Ephesians 4:19). Moderation is receiving and using God’s good gifts for our delight and to meet our needs. But when we go to “excess”—to greediness—we are sinfully using for ourselves, more than we need. Calvin said, “Most people are tempted by ambition, greedily to long for more to pass through their hands than they need” (Comm. Exodus 36:3).

Instead, said Calvin, “It remains for us not greedily to strive after riches and honors—whether relying upon our own dexterity of wit or our own diligence, or depending upon the favor of [others], or having confidence in vainly imagined fortune—but for us always to look to the Lord so that by his guidance we may be led to whatever lot he has provided for us.” (Inst. 3.7.9) Or, in other words, Calvin continued, “We shall not dash out to seize upon riches and usurp honors through wickedness and by stratagems and evil arts, or greed, to the injury of our neighbors; but pursue only those enterprises which do not lead us away from innocence.” (Inst. 3.7.9)

To put all this on a broader, corporate scale, the implications are clear. In our culture, we are used to hearing the message of Ivan Boesky, the stock trader who famously said to the graduating class at the University of California in Berkeley: "Greed is all right, by the way. I want you to know that. I think greed is healthy. You can be greedy and still feel good about yourself".^[1] This speech inspired the 1987 film Wall Street, which features the famous line "greed, for lack of a better word, is good" [Wikipedia, s.v. “Greed”]. Who among us is willing to turn off our spigot in the desire to gain more and more and more…?

So also, of course, on a national level with the engines of economics and wealth and power. If our nation gains more and more, at the expense of those who at the same time are receiving less and less—do we care? Calvin was unsparing in his condemnations of greed, saying that “many are too greedy, and, like horse-leeches, suck the blood of others” (Commentary Isaiah 32:8).

The problem is the human heart. In our Reformed tradition, we cannot agree with Boesky that “greed is healthy. You can be greedy and still feel good about yourself.” When we find greed, we should repent! Our proclivity toward greediness is an attitude of the heart which we should always be praying to have checked. It reflects our sinful self-sufficiency in seeking our own wills, instead of God’s will.  And in attaining more for ourselves, we take away from others. This behavior is never ultimately satisfying. Because greed is never satisfied; it always wants more and more; and more….As Calvin put it, “The greater number of [people] greedily seek after present pleasures and advantages; but I maintain that perfect felicity is only to be found in the favor of God” (Comm. Psalm 4:6).

All of us, as Christians must constantly repent of the greed in our lives, and the root of greed in our sinfulness. In the midst of an acquisitive culture, we constantly need forgiveness.

We ought also to be passionate advocates for the use of corporate and national wealth to aid the needs of others, those who are weak and are suffering throughout the world. We are sleeping on “ivory beds,” all of us. But we need to resist our “desire for present things” (Calvin, Commentary Amos 6:4) so we do not “like horse-leeches, suck the blood of others”  (Calvin, Commentary  Isaiah 32:8). First and foremost, both personally and corporately—as Christians, and as a nation, should be our deepest desires to care for others in need, across the globe. As Christians, we have been blessed “to be a blessing” (Genesis 12:2). In our continual repenting of our sin, we should recognize our greed; and find meaningful actions to share and use what we have been given as God’s good gifts with all those whose needs are so great.

Films To honor 9/11 – Part 2: A Gathering Voices post by Ed McNulty

              

Here are two films, one well known, and one that should be, as it’s by the fine German director who gave us the spiritually themed Wings of Desire. Both not only entertain us, but also open up the possibly of some deep reflection and discussion concerning 9/11, events before the attack and how we have reacted since. (And both are  in English, so you need not worry about subtitles.)

Munich

Stephen Spielberg directed a script based on George Jonas’s book Vengeance, the true story of a special Israeli squad assigned by Prime Minister Golda Meir to track down and kill the PLO team that murdered the 11 Israeli athletes at the Munich Olympics in 1972. Because he showed both the PLO and the Mossad agents as human beings, Spielberg was criticized by supporters of Israel for being Pro-Arab, and by Palestinian supporters as being Pro-Israel. What he did do was to show the terrible cost of wreaking vengeance, not only in terms of the ever-increasing number of killings, but also the terrible cost to the soul of those wreaking the vengeance.

As we see in the last scene of the film, wherein its death-weary protagonist Avener, having dropped off the team of assassins and is living a quiet life with his wife and child in Brooklyn, turns down the offer to return to his homeland, the twin towers are still standing. Spielberg keeps his camera centered on the distant towers as the film ends and the credits roll because I think he wanted to show that our involvement in the politics of the Middle East will affect us here at home. Thus the vengeful tactics of the Israelis in the film are but a prelude of our own campaign of vengeance following the attacks. When Avener’s Mossad superior tries to justify the vengeful bloodshed by saying that they will bring peace, Avener replies, “There is no peace in this.” This is a film Americans should watch again and reflect on our course in regard to Muslims, Jews, and the Middle East. Are we on a course that leads to peace, or to more conflict? Spielberg’s is really a movie that matters.

 

Land of Plenty

 

German director Wim Wenders  examines the mood of post 9/11 America through two very different characters in this thought-provoking film. Paul's world is a paranoid one, well summed up when he declares about Muslims, "They're trying to destroy our country. They're trying to infect us. I'm not going to let them." A Vietnam War veteran damaged by Agent Orange and its derivatives, he drinks and takes drugs while driving around the streets of L.A. in his van equipped with high tech surveillance equipment to spy on the "rag heads" that he spots. 

The second anniversary of the destruction of the Twin Towers and the assault on the Pentagon is about to be observed, and Lana is flying back to America after being away for several years with her missionary parents in Africa, and, more recently, in Israel. Uttering a quiet prayer of thanksgiving as the plane is landing at L.A., she is on a mission to deliver the last letter that her now deceased mother had written in the hope of reconciling with the brother from whom she has been estranged because of conflicting political views. While searching for her uncle, Lana plans to stay at the inner city mission run by family friend Henry.

The uncle, of course, is Paul, and when they do finally meet, they enter upon a surprising journey, one of delivering the body of a homeless Pakistani shot right outside of the Mission. It will open eyes and hearts and dispel illusions, and maybe lead to healing. It is interesting that a filmmaker from outside America has captured so well the mood of many Americans during the unsettling aftermath of the terrorist attacks.

 

The above is a pared down version of an article appearing in ReadtheSpirit.com, which is a much-shortened version of a long article by the author in the Sept/Oct. issue of the online film journal Visual Parables.

 

               

 

 

 

 

The above is a pared down version of an article appearing in ReadtheSpirit.com, which is a much-shortened version of a long article by the author in the Sept/Oct. issue of the online film journal Visual Parables.

 

Here are two films, one well known, and one that should be, as it’s by the fine German director who gave us the spiritually themed Wings of Desire. Both not only entertain us, but also open up the possibly of some deep reflection and discussion (and both are also in English, so you need not worry about subtitles.)

Munich

Stephen Spielberg directed a script based on George Jonas’s book Vengeance, the true story of a special Israeli squad assigned by Prime Minister Golda Meir to track down and kill the PLO team that murdered the 11 Israeli athletes at the Munich Olympics in 1972. Because he showed both the PLO and the Mossad agents as human beings, Spielberg was criticized by supporters of Israel for being Pro-Arab, and by Palestinian supporters as being Pro-Israel. What he did do was to show the terrible cost of wreaking vengeance, not only in terms of the ever-increasing number of killings, but also the terrible cost to the soul of those wreaking the vengeance.

As we see in the last scene of the film, wherein its death-weary protagonist Avener, having dropped off the team of assassins and is living a quiet life with his wife and child in Brooklyn, turns down the offer to return to his homeland, the twin towers are still standing. Spielberg keeps his camera centered on the distant towers as the film ends and the credits roll because I think he wanted to show that our involvement in the politics of the Middle East will affect us here at home. Thus the vengeful tactics of the Israelis in the film are but a prelude of our own campaign of vengeance following the attacks. When Avener’s Mossad superior tries to justify the vengeful bloodshed by saying that they will bring peace, Avener replies, “There is no peace in this.” This is a film Americans should watch again and reflect on our course in regard to Muslims, Jews, and the Middle East. Are we on a course that leads to peace, or to more conflict? Spielberg’s is really a movie that matters.

 

Land of Plenty

German director Wim Wenders (Wings of Desire) examines the mood of post 9/11 America through two very different characters in this thought-provoking film. Paul's world is a paranoid one, well summed up when he declares about Muslims, "They're trying to destroy our country. They're trying to infect us. I'm not going to let them." A Vietnam War veteran damaged by Agent Orange and its derivatives, he drinks and takes drugs while driving around the streets of L.A. using his high tech surveillance equipment to spy on the "rag heads" that he spots. 

The second anniversary of the destruction of the Twin Towers and the assault on the Pentagon is about to be observed, and Lana is flying back to America after being away for several years with her missionary parents in Africa, and, more recently, in Israel. Uttering a quiet prayer of thanksgiving as the plane is landing at L.A., she is on a mission to deliver the last letter that her now deceased mother had written in the hope of reconciling with the brother from whom she has been estranged because of conflicting political views. While searching for her uncle, Lana plans to stay at the inner city mission run by family friend Henry.

The uncle, of course, is Paul, and when they do finally meet, they enter upon a surprising journey, one of delivering the body of a homeless Pakistani shot right outside of the Mission. It will open eyes and hearts and dispel illusions, and maybe lead to healing. It is interesting that a filmmaker from outside America has captured so well the mood of many Americans during the unsettling aftermath of the terrorist attacks.

 

The above is a pared down version of an article appearing in ReadtheSpirit.com, which is a much-shortened version of a long article by the author in the Sept/Oct. issue of the online film journal Visual Parables.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Memorable Evening With Cliff Robertson

 

News of the death of actor Cliff Robertson on September 10th took me back to a Friday evening in March 1994 when I spent an hour and a half with the actor and a fellow film critic. The place was Dayton, Ohio, and the occasion was a gala showing of Charly to launch the Mental Retardation/Developmentally Disabled Film Festival at a downtown movie theater. Mr. Robertson was on hand to introduce the film, his appearance designed to draw a large crowd. I was one of two members of the press invited to the reception after the film. We went through the line, exchanging a few words of praise with the actor and then headed for the heavily laden snack table.

We both noticed that after everyone had shaken hands with him Mr. Robertson was standing alone. We went over and started up a conversation, each of us prepared to step back when someone else wanted to talk with the actor. That never happened, the result being that we had him all to ourselves for over an hour. We soon discovered that he is a great raconteur, giving us his own perspective on some major events in his career, and on Charly in particular.

A popular star in television drama shows of the 1950s, Mr. Robertson told us that he found himself shut out by more famous movie stars when the teleplay was transferred to the big screen. Although he starred in the original Days of Wine and Roses, The Hustler, and Orpheus Descending, he was replaced respectively by Jack Lemmon, Paul Newman, and Marlon Brando in the film versions. But with the U.S. Steel Hour’s The Two Worlds of Charlie Gordon, it would be different. Not only did he play the lead role, he also won the Best Actor Oscar for it when it was released in 1968 as Charly.

He got the part this time, he told us with a smile, because he owned the rights to the play and was willing to spend the long years trying to get a studio to take on the project. In case you may have forgotten, Charly evolved from the teleplay The Two Worlds of Charlie Gordon, which in turn is based on Daniel Keyes Flowers for Algernon, first a short story and then a novel. Charly is a mentally challenged man working in a bakery where he is often the butt of cruel jokes by his coworkers. When he becomes the subject of a scientific experiment, his mental faculties grow almost exponentially. Now a genius he becomes romantically involved with the women scientist heading up the project. Then it is discovered that the effect is temporary, and Charly slowly descends into his former foggy existence, this sequence being one of the saddest of any ever filmed, with Charly deliberately breaking off from his lover.

I told Mr. Robertson that my favorite scene in the film is one of grace, one that had been changed from the book and actually improved on it. Charly is dining with friends in a restaurant when the loud clatter of dishes breaking on the floor interrupts the conversations of the diners. There is momentary silence. Everyone turns to look at the bus boy kneeling to gather up the broken dishes that he had dropped. The room erupts in laughter. It is evident to all by the young man’s eyes and slow movements that he is mentally challenged. Now in the book Charly, feeling akin to the confused lad, stands up and berates the callous diners for their cruelty. However, in the film Charly never says a word. He gets up, walks over to the bus boy, and kneels down to help hum pick up the shards. Shamed by this compassionate gesture, the onlookers cease their laughter.

The actor’s eyes lit up and his face broke into a big smile as I described the scene. “You know, I was the one who suggested that change,” he explained. “Somehow it just didn’t seem right for Charly to express anger. I suggested to the director that his act of compassion, of solidarity with the bus boy, was more dramatically effective than the original scene. He agreed, and that’s the way we filmed it.”

My friend and I came away from our evening with Cliff Robertson not only with a new insight into a film we both loved, but also into the man who brought Charly Gordon to life. Cliff Robertson, whose brave fight against a corrupt studio head had hurt his career, never became the big name on the marquee, but in our eyes none of the stars who took on the roles he had originated would ever shine as bright as human beings.

 

I will post next week Part 2 of my Films To Honor 9/11.

 

 

Young adults are amoral heathens, but what's new?

A Gathering Voices post by Adam Copeland

This week’s Theology Pub, a gathering of 20/30-somethings The Project FM hosts at a local bar to talk about God and life, tackled the topic “Is my truth better than yours?” Though it came out a few days too late, David Brooks’ NY Times Op-Ed yesterday, “If it feels right” would have been great pre-reading.

Brooks builds his column on the work of Christian Smith and colleagues. Smith’s previous book, Souls in Transition: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of Emerging Adults has been on my wish list for some time. Now I’ll have to add his latest as well, Lost in Transition: The Dark Side of Emerging Adulthood.

In his column Brooks opines that young adults these days apparently lack the wherewithal to speak about moral issues. As someone who hosts conversations for young adults to speak about moral issues, two responses immediately come to mind. One: young adults who attend Theology Pub absolutely love speaking about moral issues. Two: we are not particularly well versed in how to speak about them.

I could blame this all on standardized testing in grade schools. I could complain about colleges requiring too few philosophy and ethics courses (grad schools too, for that matter). I could lambast parents for not passing along resources for taking on moral subjects. But I won’t.

What I will do, however, is refuse to blame young adults themselves for not having been given the resources to take on moral questions — it’s not their fault that faith communities, schools, and parents failed them. Let me repeat that: it doesn’t do us any good to blame 20 year-olds for not having the moral sensibilities we wish they had. (And Brooks, by the way, does well to refuse to do so — mostly.)

I look forward to reading Smith’s book, but I’ll do so uneasily. When I somehow find the time to pick it up, I’ll do so with this question at the forefront of my mind: Is it that young adults truly have fewer moral resources with which to deal with moral questions than previous generations, or is it that today’s questions are so much more complex that young adults need more skills and understanding to just tread water in our consumeristic pluralized technologically-advanced globalized world?

After all, it’s much easier to teach and theologize that “murder is wrong” than it is to discuss unmanned drone strikes in remote border areas of Afghanistan/Pakistan during an unfunded “war on terror” lasting over ten years.

image by Linden Laserna

 

Wondering and Holy Imagination

 

A Gathering Voices Post by Lara Blackwood Pickrel

 

Last week the writing team for the 2013 New Earth: Christian Resources for the Outdoors camp curriculum (a joint project of the Committee on Outdoor Ministries of the National Council of Churches and the Christian Board of Publication) met in Nashville in order to prepare ourselves for the task of creating curriculum that would be engaging and fruitful for a wide variety of camp settings, age groups and Christian traditions.  No small task, to be sure. 

Each year the writing team is comprised of individuals with a wide range of experience in outdoor ministry - and individuals from a number of different Protestant denominations.  We do camp differently and in widely varied camp settings, work with a variety of age groups, and think different themes and messages are important.  So, with such tricky and important work ahead of us, you might think that we spent a great deal of time talking about the differences between our traditions. 

Instead, we studied the Bible together.

With the help of our teammate who is tasked with writing the section on biblical background and interpretation, we spent the majority of our time together digging in to each of the texts used as a part of the curriculum.  We asked questions, shared opinions or the occasional "aha" moment, and sometimes disagreed with one another - but most of all, together, we wondered. 

In that collective wondering, we became community. 

The process of wondering, dreaming, working together out of our holy imagination - that process brought us together in ways that likely would have never taken place if we had initially focused on our differences.  We are still different, to be sure.  In November, when we turn in our assignments, each of our particular pieces of the puzzle will surely be unique.  But still, somehow or another, they will fit together to create something useful for the realm of God.  It will be so, not because we've forced some false unity upon our work, but because we wondered our way together through the Word.

What might it be like if more of our faith communities did the same?  How might it feel to set aside past arguments, doctrinal divides and all other manner of difference long enough to wonder and delight in our scriptures together?  Who might be made welcome in that playful imagining? This week, as I transition back to into my daily ministry, I can't help but ask these questions.

Because when push comes to shove, as I stumble along Christ's Way, I don't always need answers.  Most days, I'm just looking for people with whom I can wonder.  

 

 

The Good Life

A Gathering Voices Post by Don McKim

 

You will not find The Marrow of Theology by William Ames (1576-1633) in a current list of the top one-hundred bestsellers. Nor, in the list of the top one million! (It ranks below that, by 35,000 on today’s Amazon’s sales).

It didn’t used to be so. Ames was a Puritan with a sturdy Reformed theology (Congregationalist in polity) whose books were mainstays in the libraries of most New England Clergy—in the days before there was a United States. He was a student of the great Puritan theologian, William Perkins (1558-1602) at Christ’s College, Cambridge and taught in The Netherlands when conditions in England were not conducive to his faith. His The Marrow of Theology (first, Latin, 1623; English translation, 1638) was a succinct, systematic statement of Reformed thought, combining theology and ethics in the best Puritan fashion.

Why should we check out Ames, today?

At least for the first sections of Ames’ Marrow. Here Ames provides an important perspective for our theologies. Ames defines theology as “the doctrine or teaching [doctrina] of living to God” (I.1.1). This captures the Puritan spirit at its best. Theology is not intellectualism or emotionalism or activism in themselves. Theology is “living to God”—much more than any of these ‘ism’s.’ For Ames, “Since the highest kind of life for a human being is that which approaches most closely the living and life-giving God, the nature of theological life is living to God” (I.1.5).

Ames knew we can live “both happily and well.” But which is better? Ames argues, “[euzoia] living well is more excellent than [eudaimonia] living happily” (I.1.8). Imagine that! It is not that we are entitled to the “pursuit of happiness” in our lives, or that this is what our life’s aim should be. Instead, we pursue “living to God”!

This sets our direction in life. This is where theology leads us. For Ames, “what chiefly and finally ought to be striven for is not happiness which has to do with our own pleasure, but goodness which looks to God’s glory” (I.1.8). We live “before the face of God” (Lat. coram Deo). We live toward God’s glory, not our own enhancements or self-interests.  This is a basic Reformed instinct: “Do everything for the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31). This means, says Ames: “theology is better defined as the good life whereby we live to God than the happy life whereby we live to ourselves” (I.1.8). It is the “good life”—directed to God’s glory; rather than the “happy life” of self-fulfillment, that is the goal of Christian living.

We trust that “goodness” and “happiness” are not mutually exclusive in the lives we live. But this ancient Puritan theologian does give us a good trajectory and focus for life. We seek the “goodness which looks to God’s glory” (I.1.8). This is the good life!

 

Films To Honor 9/11

Our media have been filled with special events commemorating the 10^th anniversary of the horrific events of 9/11. This week and next I want to hold up four films you might watch with family or friends.

      

United 93 honors the courage of those aboard one of the four terrorist-hijacked planes on that day. World Trade Center is a fitting tribute to the NY responders who sought to aid the victims. Munich exposes the toxic results of revenge and shows that the US is affected by what happens in a far off part of the world. And Land of Plenty deals with the paranoia following the attack that still threatens our society.

United 93

The same weekend that director/writer Paul Greengrass' film debuted in the theaters, the Arts & Entertainment Channel rebroadcast its cable version of the same events, Flight 93. I was much moved by the latter when I saw it a few months earlier, but now realize how weak it is in comparison to the British filmmaker's version. Mr. Greenglass' use of the handheld camera with its quick cuts and seemingly random sweeps of a scene makes us feel a part of the action, whereas the cable film with its smooth shots, many of them medium rather than United's many close-ups, makes us seem like detached spectators. One factor that impressed me is the many cell phone calls in which it was love, not fear or hatred, that was expressed. There could be no truer, heart-felt memorial to the brave passengers and crew of Flight 93 than this superb theatrical film.  Had it not been for their courageous resolve to refuse to remain victims, there no doubt would have been one more triumph for the terrorists that day.

World Trade Center

 Oliver Stone’s film is based on the accounts given by John and Donna McLoughlin and Will and Allison Jimeno. Sergeant John McLoughlin was a veteran Port Authority Police officer who had been stationed at the World Trade Center and helped rescue people from the 1993 blast and fire. Over the years he helped perfect the rescue equipment and procedures before moving on to his position at the Port Authority Bus Terminal. So, when the planes hit the Towers, he was asked to lead a five-member team to the Towers because of his knowledge of the equipment and of the buildings. All are in awe when they leave their bus and stare up at one of the burning towers, and then horror engulfs them as they see a body plunge toward the street. They rush inside, but soon the towers fall, and the rescuers are themselves victims needing to be extricated from the rubble. The faith of the two trapped policemen is very much in evidence--where have you ever seen such a dramatic offering of the Lord's Prayer?

 Because of limited space I will deal with Munich and Land of Plenty next time. This blog is a pared down version of an article appearing in ReadtheSpirit.com, which is a much shortened version of a long article by the author in the Sept/Oct. issue of the online film journal Visual Parables.