"Pancakes make people happy," goes the slogan of the Royal Canadian Pancake House. But those delectable breakfast treats do much more than that on Shrove Tuesday--they provide the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. Traditionally, Christian households were supposed to use up the lard and dairy in their homes in preparation for the austere Lenten fasting period; hence the name "Fat Tuesday" ("Mardi Gras" in French). On Shrove Tuesday 1445, a curious thing happened in the town of Olney, England: The first pancake race was run.
There are several stories explaining the emergence of the race, but the most popular one holds that a local housewife, upon hearing the church bells ring, ran off to the service with frying pan and pancake still in hand.
However it got started, the contestants in Olney's pancake race (and other such contests) must flip their pancakes in their frying pans before running the 415-yard course, then give them another toss at the finish line to prove the pancake is still present. Only women 18 or over may enter and they must wear “traditional” housewife’s garb--a skirt, an apron, and some form of head covering.
In 1950, it became a transatlantic event, when the town of Liberal, Kansas, challenged the flapjack flippers across the pond to see which country rules the sport of pancake racing. Times are compared via a long-distance phone call and ambassadors from the opposing country are often present.
Andrea Rawlings, a 32-year-old Olney saddler who came in second in 2005, brought the bacon, so to speak, back to Britain this year with a time of 63.76 seconds.
Two years ago this Ash Wednesday, Mel Gibson released his much-hyped "The Passion of the Christ" to adoring, and some not-so-adoring, audiences everywhere.
This Ash Wednesday brings a new "Passion" of sorts--"The McPassion." This time, it's a four minute long movie short. Co-produced by Benjamin Hershleder and Rik Swartzwelder, "The McPassion" is a comedy spoof inspired in honor of dear old Mel. And it's already creating controversy and division (of course) among Christians.
On its official website, the only synopsis available says of "The McPassion": "The greatest story ever told and a fast food giant unite to deliver the tie-in of tie-ins. While supplies last." Viewers are greeted by a giant "McDonald's" golden arches with a cross emerging from part of the M. And you can find a countdown until the movie short becomes available.
Tune in to a computer near you this Ash Wednesday. It's only available for 40 days and 40 nights. (And I'm not kidding about that!)
At this point in Season Five of “24,” The president of the United States has been brought to a place of asking his chief of staff to pray with him. The chief of staff balks, saying “This is a personal matter.”
“Please, just... please,” says the president, as they then both take a knee.
But while President Logan was praying, I couldn’t help but wonder why it is that our culture is so accepting of prayers in times of last resort, but not prayers as a first offense and primary resource toward whichever challenges we’re facing personally, professionally, or nationally? And if we'll pray after a crisis hits, why not pray as a regular practice, applying the biblical principles upon which our nation was founded?
It’s as if “crisis” makes prayer authentic, but “peace time” makes prayer a violation of church and state. This week’s script on “24” was either art imitating life or life imitating, well, something less than art.
After reading about "The Colbert Report" and its penchant for luring distinguished public figures into making complete fools of themselves, I tuned in last night, and who was the guest? None other than a Beliefnet favorite, Tony Campolo, a nationally known Christian author and speaker.
What a delight to watch a seasoned pro (Colbert) try to stump and trap an evangelical (Campolo)--and instead be left speechless himself. And, in the process, I think he opened the door for a whole new audience to discover the radical words of Jesus. Here were Colbert’s best attempts at leading Dr. Campolo toward putting a foot in his mouth:
COLBERT: “You claim to be a member of the ‘Evangelical Left.’ Isn’t that a contradiction in terms?”
CAMPOLO: “There are people who care about the poor, who take the words of Jesus literally, and if one would do both, then I think the two words belong together.”
COLBERT: “But you’re saying that Jesus hates America. Sean Hannity’s book said ‘deliver us from evil.’ Do you watch Hannity & Colmes?”
CAMPOLO. “Jesus loves the United States. Jesus loves Iraq. Jesus loves Afghanistan. He calls all people to love each other, get along with each other. He loved Afghanistan before the U.S. went there... before it was even Afghanistan.”
COLBERT: “You make Jesus sound like the U.N.”
CAMPOLO: “If the U.N. would listen to Jesus, the whole world would be in good shape.”
COLBERT: (speechless)
CAMPOLO: “Jesus transcends partisan politics.”
COLBERT: “So you’re saying Jesus doesn’t care who is President?”
CAMPOLO: “I’ve got a feeling that if Jesus went into the voting box, he’d be very confused, because there’s stuff on both sides to like and not to like. They’ve made Jesus into a Republican, and he’s not.”
COLBERT: “Do you get a frosty reception from the evangelical pancake breakfast?”
CAMPOLO: “I don’t get invited anymore.”
And finally…
COLBERT: “Has religion changed politics, or has politics changed religion?”
CAMPOLO: “It’s like mixing ice cream and horse manure. It doesn’t hurt the horse manure, but it hurts the ice cream. Politics has hurt religion, more than the opposite.”
COLBERT: (pause)
COLBERT: “Would you come back another time to sift the turds from the cream?!”
And then they shook hands, laughed, and shared a moment that—to this viewer—looked like an authentic connection. Campolo won this round, in my opinion, but the real winner was the audience. This frank and funny dialogue was one of the more civil, humorous, honest and challenging discussions two people could have about authentic spiritual searching and its connection to real-life decision-making--all while keeping us laughing. All in all, time well spent.
Karma visited the ER last night on “Grey’s Anatomy.” Or at least television’s version of karma – the idea that what comes around, goes around. Outside of Hollywood Hinduism*, karma can best be defined as action or duty. But as usual, Hollywood's got its own definition of this ancient concept.
Sweet, beleaguered surgical resident George O’Malley narrated last night’s episode, which contained several storylines using the oft misappropriated concept as the connective tissue between them. And, just in case the theme didn't jump out at you, George's languid voice-over was there to repeat the word every few minutes: "What I'm saying is, we reap what we sow. What goes around comes around. It's karma and anyway you slice it, karma sucks."
Storyline #1 involved George finally getting his crush, Meredith, into bed, only to have her start crying--because, as it turns out, she realized she didn’t really want to be sleeping with him. Dang! Poor George thought that always being the nice guy, always helping the helpless, always being there for his Meredith when she needed him was finally paying off. But he was wrong.
The second storyline centered around Denny, a good-as-gold guy in need of a heart transplant. He wins the romantic attention of resident Izzie, not only because he is so gosh darn good, but also because Izzie’s current beau created some bad karma for himself, sleeping with another nurse. A double whammy!
Meanwhile, Addison is feeling the rash of God, as it were. After being smitten with a nasty case of poison oak below the beltline, she is convinced the affliction happened because she slept with Mark, the best friend of her husband, Derek Shepherd, a.k.a. Dr. McDreamy. Calamine stat!
So while karma may have more to do with carnality than courage at Seattle Grace Hospital, things do work out for the best in the end for nice-guy George. Trying to escape the other residents' probing questions about his liason with Meredith, he falls down the stairs and dislocates his shoulder, only to have it popped back in by a very attractive doctor who later slips him her digits. That's good karma by any definition.
* Yes, yes. We know it’s a Buddhist concept too, but this is a blog entry, not a thesis.
As the Olympics drew to a close last night, I found that the most disappointing--and annoying--aspect of NBC’s Olympic coverage was the huge amount of airtime given to U.S. skier and 2002 silver medalist Bode Miller. With a daredevil, nonconformist image only further enhanced by a recent “60 Minutes” interview, in which he admitted to, among other things, skiing in competitions while hung over from the previous night's partying, Miller was featured prominently in numerous Olympic segments.
But then, in between those segments, we were treated to even more of Miller, with Nike commercials featuring Miller and asking us this important question: Are you a “Bodeist”? The message of the commercial seems to be that, somehow, Miller’s carefree spirit, disdain of the media (unless it involves a lucative commercial endorsement deal), and refusal to worship material things such as Olympic gold medals have something to do with Buddhism, and are qualities to be applauded and emulated by the rest of us as well. The only problem is that behind the clever word play and marketing spin, there is little substance to support the notion that Bode and Buddhism have anything in common.
From what I have read about Buddhism's "Eight Steps To Happiness" or the "Four Noble Truths," I am comfortable saying that Miller’s egotistical yet lackluster performance in Italy had little to do with inner peace, enlightenment, or compassion for all living things. Miller's failure to medal in all five events he competed in had more to do with reckless mistakes, lack of focus, and, oh, yeah, a desire to party all the time. When Miller was interviewed by the Associated Press last weekend, he was far more intent on talking about nightclubs than skiing. Miller told the reporter, "I got to party and socialize at an Olympic level." Miller also justified his Olympic performances and his behavior by adding,"People want athletes to cater to their image of what an athlete should be, but they also want them to fail, so they can feel like their screw-ups are all right. If I make a priority shift, I'll make it, because it's best for me."
Comments like that make me wish that perhaps Miller would take a hint from that Nike ad and look into Buddhism for real. Miller's attitude could benefit from some of the principles of Buddhism, such as Right Speech, Right Action Right Effort, and Right Mindfulness. However, my prediction is that by the time Miller decides to shift his priorities from blaming others for his problems and selfishly indulging in his own entertainment while being heftily paid to represent his country, no one, including his commercial sponsors, will still care.
Ellen Leventry’s blog entry regarding Sasha Cohen’s Kabbalah bracelet was an interesting piece that brings up an interesting issue that should be seriously debated—or at least reflected on—in our culture: the difference between religion, spirituality, superstition, karma, luck, faith, and hope. I was particularly struck by Sasha Cohen's comment on her wrist-piece, "I'm not deeply into Kabbalah."
When she puts a Kabbalah bracelet on her wrist before she skates, what is really going on there? Is it a sign of faithfulness towards a God, hoping for blessing in return? Is it an act of superstition, hoping not to jinx herself? Is it a bet, sort of like, “Hey, just in case there’s a chance it could help, I’ll do it"? Is it considered a risk-free investment, along the lines of, “Hey, doesn’t cost me anything to wear it, and if helps, well, that’s all the more wonderful”? Is it a fearful act of not wanting to forego anything that may bring success? Is it a combination of all of the above?
NFL Players gather each week after the game, take a knee at midfield, and pray. A growing percentage of the league’s players will point to the heavens, take a knee, or cross themselves after a touchdown. Many players come to team chapel meetings before games. Does this mean they’re spiritual? Or does it mean they’re willing to work all of the angles, just in case?
These questions are relevant because, as spiritual seekers, we should ask these questions of “role models”--and then, more importantly, ask them of ourselves. Do I really have a faith system that believes that a bracelet will improve my score? Am I convinced that dropping to one knee on TV will get me God’s blessings? Or am I simply acting out of purity and faith, whether it gets me results or not?
As it turns out, Sasha Cohen fell twice yesterday and didn’t win the gold medal, even though she was wearing her bracelet. Does that mean it “didn’t work”? Or, given the fact that she fell twice and still won a silver medal, does it mean that she was rewarded for her “faith”?
Answering questions like these are important as we each consider our own spiritually driven actions, which we hope are more than acts of blind faith. And, at that point, if we’re truly willing to look within, then we find ourselves living out the true privilege of spiritual seeking. Short of that, we might as well admit that we’re going with the flow, going with the tide, going with the current, more out of convenience than conviction.
Whether its prime time or not, weekday or weekend, holidays, sweeps period, or any other time of the year, it doesn’t take long to see that cop shows and court shows are very popular these days. "CSI," "Cold Case," "Law & Order," "In Justice," even "Boston Legal" are examples of shows that offer the “payoff” in which the bad guy is caught, convicted, sentenced, disgraced or killed.
Charles Colson has reflected on this fact and said yesterday on his radio show that there may be a spiritual reason for it. “I’m convinced that the popularity of cop shows reflects our God-given desire for justice and moral clarity,” Colson said. “Our love of these dramas—and before them, Westerns—reflect our acute awareness of the difference between good and evil, guilt and innocence.”
It’s an interesting perspective, because, when you get down to it, how many people really long for more stabbings, killings, rapes, blood, gore, or violence of any kind in their day? Why endure it by choice? What is it that drives us to these shows?
“Police dramas presuppose a moral universe,” Colson says. “In fact, moral absolutes are essential to police dramas. Take them away, and the story falls apart. Why? Because if there is no such thing as real evil, there's no such thing as a guilty party.”
Whatever your favorite is, the questions of morality and the nature of right and wrong—and the issue of who decides—cannot be separated from the authentic spiritual journey, if the journey is to have any relevance outside of our own feelings and moods. The search for inner help and spiritual strength must bring a sort of spiritual “law and order” to be ultimately fulfilling.
That red string around U.S. figure skater Sasha Cohen’s left wrist wasn’t part of her colorful costume--it was a Kabbalah bracelet. Ubiquitous among celebrities, including Madonna, Demi Moore, Ashton Kutcher and even Paris Hilton, the trendy talisman of Jewish mystical tradition has made its way to center ice.
”I'm not deeply into Kabbalah,” Cohen said on NBCOlympics.com when asked if she was wearing a Kabbalah bracelet at Nationals, “but I appreciate the principles of it.... I had a Kabbalah string before this one and it fell off--which is good luck. Johnny Weir tied that one on me the year before.” Another teammate, U.S. men's figure skater Evan Lysacek, tied on this most recent bracelet.
While Cohen may not be a devotee of Kabbalah, the flamboyant Weir is. "A friend introduced me to Kabbalah actually before Esther (Madonna) started doing it,” Weir told Salon. “For a while I was getting a big head about how good I was becoming and what was going on with me, and it just sort of helped me stay centered and that sort of thing.”
Weir says he wears a Kabbalah star charm on his necklace, as well as the red string that "kind of saves you from other people dissing you."
Unfortunately for the three-time national champion, his bracelet may need to work harder, since many in sports media have been savaging him for his comments blaming his poor performance and fifth-place finish on missing the bus and bad auras. Cohen's bracelet, for the moment, can rest easy, as her graceful short program impressed the judges and is keeping the press more than pleasant.
He may be a rude, bitter man who likes to pretend he is God, but I am still crazy about Gregory House. Fox’s critically acclaimed series "House"--which centers around a brilliant infectious disease specialist who solves life-or-death medical mysteries--features one of the most emotionally complicated yet morally ambiguous characters ever written for television. Sure, House (played to perfection by Golden Globe winner Hugh Laurie) wants us all to believe he cares more about solving a medical puzzle than cozying up to his patients, and, yes, he has a little pill-popping problem, but last night’s episode confirms what "House" fans knew all along--his snarky behavior is all a mask to hide his struggle with his own personal demons, as he searches for some kind of hope to make his life worth living.
Fresh off of the ending of an affair with his ex-wife Stacy, House begins to notice increasing amounts of pain shooting through his leg, which was premanently damaged in an accident years ago. Though he does not want his co-workers to know about his worsening medical condition, he does confide in two people--his only friend, Dr. Wilson, and his boss, Dr. Cuddy. Wilson suggests that maybe the nerves in his leg are trying to regenerate and heal, giving House a sense of false hope. But when the pain becomes too great for the doctor, he goes to Cuddy and insists she give him morphine, because the Vicodin pills he takes constantly don't help him anymore.
The morphine shot works--or so House thinks--because suddenly his leg feels better. It is then that Cuddy reveals that she, too, gave House a false sense of hope. The morphine was actually a placebo, indicating that the pain is in House's heart and head, but not in his leg. The final scene reveals House's vulnerability in a way we the viewers have never seen before. Face-to-face with his past failures and disappointments, all of which are deeper than the scars on his crippled leg, which he now realizes won't ever heal, House sits alone in his home staring at a bottle of pills with a look of utter despair. In a moment of defeat, he opens the bottle and pops some pills, once more hoping to deaden the pain inside.
Could this mean that House has finally hit rock bottom emotionally and spiritually? I sure hope so. It will not only make for good TV drama, but it could be a soul-searching reminder to us all that we cannot wrestle our inner demons alone and expect to win; we need the help of a higher power.
"Is the spirit and science tying the knot once more?" an announcer asks at the beginning of the film, following a hilariously irreverent and brief history of religion's bumpy relationship with science (complete with bumper car illustrations). If "What the Bleep!?" has anything to say about the current and future state of science and spirituality, it's that tying the knot between them again is an inevitability driven by the extraordinary knowledge that quantum physicists and mathematicians are uncovering today. This knowledge may eventually require a "quantum conversion" or a "quantum horizon shift" (to use the language of scholars describing spiritual awakenings) among all of us when it comes to how we perceive reality, and therefore religion and spirituality.
Mostly documentary, with a tiny bit of story featuring Marlee Matlin as Amanda (who experiences a kind of "quantum horizon shift" over the course of the movie), the scientists, mathematicians, and scholars interviewed collectively deconstruct the classical, "mechanical" understanding of the human body, the world, and how everything operates in relation to everything else (as individuals, as separate objects). They then build on the notion that all the universe, consciousness itself, is a great collective organism in which we all swim, move, live. This notion takes the statement "what I think effects the world" to a new level, since, as one scientist explains, the universe--and we, the human elements of it--are made of an "ocean of pure potentiality, abstract potentiality, pure abstract self-aware consciousness that gives rise to everything."
In other words, as conscious elements of the larger universe, we are its co-creators. For lack of a better term, as conscious beings we are each of us gods (but not the only gods, as all consciousness is god), creating reality with our thoughts, actions, choices, and by merely being here and watching and paying attention.
One of the most mindboggling things in the movie's commentary is the fact that elementary particles act differently when they are observed than when they are not. You need to go see the film yourself to get more on that one. It's one of the most fascinating ideas of all, but I'd need a quantum physicist here with me right now to explain it for you.
What does this mean on a spiritual level (other than the fact that we are all co-creators of existence--that "God is not within, but in fact we ourselves are divine")? Those interviewed cite the idea of separateness as the single biggest problem across humanity, because quantum physics "has its own spirituality of unity" in this area: It tells us that separateness does not exist, that we are all literally connected. One scientist wonders: "When do we make the shift from me to one?" Since life is effected by observation (again, literally), another scientist talks about the importance of "practicing the skill of observation" within the world, with regard to our own bodies and health, that of the people we care about and those we've never met, because attention and intention changes the world. The potential impact this idea has on "the power of prayer" could be extraordinary, and the notion that prayer can "work" and that prayer "helps" patients who are sick, for example, begin to make sense at a new
level.
Totally mindboggling stuff.
If it's playing at a theater near you--GO! I am planning on going again and buying the DVD when it comes out, since I think it would add some much-needed spice to my Intro to Religious Studies class at some point during the semester (perhaps when discussing the Scientific Revolution and its impact on religious thinking?), especially that funny quick bit at the beginning about rocky relationship of science and religion across the ages.
I'd never heard of Sophie Scholl until last week, a fact I am embarrassed to admit, especially now that I've seen "Sophie Scholl: The Final Days," an Academy Award nominee for Best Foreign Language Film. Scholl is today a national hero in Germany for her resistance efforts against the Nazis, and her trial and execution for distributing leaflets at a Munich university. Hopefully, the movie will make her equally well known in the U.S.
In Scholl's story, a few individuals do what little they can to oppose the evil that engulfed their nation. Members of a group called The White Rose, these young Germans are not the usual resistance fighters on which filmmakers love to focus; they're not warriors taking up arms, nor are they Oscar Schindler types who save large numbers of Jews through ingenious planning. The story of Sophie Scholl is much simpler, much smaller than that--and in that simplicity lies the understated power of this film (which is, fittingly, much smaller in scope and more modest in sweep than a movie like "Schindler's List"). Scholl and her brother Hans are caught distributing anti-Nazi leaflets on a university campus. The Scholls and their comrades are not larger-than-life heroes whose bravery and accomplishments are virtually impossible to relate to. Instead, they are us, everyday people, albeit caught in an impossible situation. Sophie, only 21 years old, is engaged to a man fighting for Germany in the Nazi army; she tells her cellmate that her fiance is loyal to his oath to Hitler. Her brother is a medical student. Yet faced with the oppression of the Nazi regime and the mounting casualties of a unjust and unwinnable war, they did what little they could: Through leaflets and grafitti, they urged widespread resistance. It wasn't going to end the war, and perhaps it was naive of them to think they could make a real difference, but with their world out of control, they took a small step toward righting the wrongs around them.
The film follows Sophie's interrogation, as she at first denies any involvement and keeps repeating that she and Hans are apolitical. The next day, faced with strong evidence of her "guilt," she neither maintains the charade that she is innocent nor turns into some sort of fiery orator denouncing her captors. She speaks her truth quietly but assertively, by admitting what she did--and saying she is proud of it and would do it again. She looks her interrogator in the eye and is unafraid to denounce Hitler and his followers. At the trial, her voice grows even stronger, as she defends her actions and tells the judge: "You will soon be standing where we are now."
The film makes clear where Sophie and her brother got their strength and their conviction. Their father, a former mayor, had been jailed the previous year for calling Hitler "God's scourge to mankind." He shows up at his children's show trial, and before being kicked out, he uses his split second not to beg for mercy from the unmerciful judge but to remind the court, "There is a higher justice." And in the couple of minutes Sophie is granted to say goodbye to her parents, her father tells her he is proud, adding, "You did the right thing." It was one of the movie's strongest moments.
"Sophie Scholl: The Final Days" just opened in New York, will open Friday in L.A., and will go wider in the coming weeks. The film itself is a bit formulaic--I could have done without the pulsating "suspense" music foreshadowing Sophie's arrest, for instance--and the translation can be overly formal, but despite its flaws, it's still powerful and moving. Just before she is led away to her death, Sophie, a committed Lutheran, looks up and sees a crucifix on the wall, the suffering Jesus still on the cross. It is a stark remi
nder that our faith, whatever it is, calls us to fix this broken world in whatever way we can. I am glad to now know how Sophie Scholl tried to fix her world.
HBO has given its latest series "Big Love"--about a polygamous family from a Mormon offshoot group--the coveted post-Sopranos time slot, 10pm on Sundays, beginning March 12th. In other words, executives are planning to make a "Desperate Housewives"-sized splash in an effort to snag a large audience interested in following the trials and tribulations of Bill Hendrickson (Bill Paxton) and his three wives, Barb (Jeanne Tripplehorn), Nicki (Chloe Sevigny), and Margene (Ginnifer Goodwin).
The show's creator has called the Hendricksons "America's next great family like the Cleavers, the Petries, or the Huxtables" (insert me gagging here). Let's take a moment to think about that. America's next great family? AMERICA'S NEXT GREAT FAMILY? Of course the show is going to play up how the women find in polygamy a sisterly camaraderie, along with the expected rivalries and jealousies. The show will explore how these wives have somehow chosen this life as one that's empowering rather than demeaning, while also dramatizing all the petty disputes that will surely have them frustrated and conniving. And let's not forget how poor, poor Bill is not simply a husband living every man's sexual fantasy but is exhausted by the conjugal demands of his polygamous lifestyle. BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. Give me a break.
Here's what depresses me most of all. I can't think of one current television series that deals with religious themes and does not also perpetuate the patriarchal status quo when it comes to women. Long gone is Buffy Summers of "Buffy The Vampire Slayer"--the uncharacteristically female chosen one, savior of all humanity, a teenaged girl representing the classic Jesus figure. Our heroine Buffy has been replaced by what? Shows like the laughable "Book of Daniel," mercilessly canceled after only three episodes, which centered on a man and his "close," albeit comical, relationship with Jesus; "Lost" which happens to be one of my favorite television series of all time, but disappointingly and typically defaults all the religious power to the show's male leads, Jack, Locke, Mr. Ecco; and "Invasion," another show I love and which has terrific religious overtones, yet still resorts to handing all true leadership power to its male characters. And now this "Big Love," which sounds like a celebration of the supposed normalcy of polygamy--which is widely known as a framework for male sexual power and gratification and female subjugation.
Forgive me, but I'm not buying it. Where, oh where, is the next Buffy hiding? Have we given up on roles for women that explode traditional notions of gender and power?
(By the way, "Big Love," the TV series, should not be confused with last summer's "The Big Love," a hilariously wonderful novel by Sarah Dunn, which will have anyone who grew up with a serious dash of Christianity in their youth rolling on the floor, trying to calm their side-splitting laughter. )
Is Sony Studios trying to buy the Christian community’s support by hiring a publicity firm to promote its upcoming church conspiracy thriller ,“The Da Vinci Code,” to the religiously-inclined masses? That’s the question being heatedly debated by those in and out of the Christian community after the launch of a new website, The Da Vinci Dialogue. Sony has spent a significant amount of money (some reports have said $2 million dollars) to develop this site in conjunction with a company that specializes in marketing mainstream films to the church community.
The Da Vinci Dialogue website, which features a variety of essays examining the controversial religious issues surrounding the story, supposedly grew out of Sony Pictures Entertainment’s desire “to respect those concerns by providing a forum where a wide variety of respected religious scholars could discuss some of the serious questions the movie may raise.” However, the site has not only received criticism from newspapers such as UCLA’s “Daily Bruin”--which called it nothing more than a publicity stunt--but also from well respected Christians within the Hollywood community who feel little productive dialogue can come from debating "Da Vinci."
The most interesting response may have come from Barbara Nicolosi, a former nun who runs Act One, a group that trains Christians to work in Hollywood. On her blog and here on Beliefnet, you can read her well-worded rant on the subject of the Da Vinci Dialogue website--and her idea for a counter-response to the movie. She, along with other Hollywood insiders, are calling for Christians to bypass “Da Vinci” and instead go see another film that opens the same weekend--the animated picture “Over The Hedge.”
Trying to convince thousands of people to go see a movie based on a comic strip as a response to one that claims "everything our fathers told us about Christ is false"? I think that will stir up about as much of a reaction from Hollywood as the Da Vinci Dialogue website will stir up thought-provoking discussion among Christians. Which is to say, very little. I am quite skeptical of either approach as a productive reaction, even though I do believe the Da Vinci Dialogue site is well crafted and informative. I wish Sony would have taken a page from the marketing for "Chronicles of Narnia" and done something like the "Narnia On Tour" promotion, in which scholars did face-to-face dialogue with fans at various universites across the country. Now that might bring about some substantial and enlightening discussion worthy of all of this dissent.
American Idol contestant Mandisa Hundley threw the book at brash Brit judge Simon Cowell Wednesday night--a bit of the Good Book, that is. After the full-figured Hundley’s initial audition in Chicago, Cowell raised eyebrows and ire by asking if the stage was “Going to be bigger this year” and responding to Paula Abdul’s comment that she sounded like former Idol contestant Frenchie Davis by saying “Forget Frenchie, she’s like France.”
Last night, after the contestants made their way to a semi-final group of 44, Mandisa and the other Idol hopefuls faced judges Randy Jackson, Paula, and Simon one last time to find out whether they had made it to the final group of 24. Instead of releasing a string of expletives at Simon, a common occurrence on the show, Mandisa calmly addressed him saying:
A lot of people want me to say a lot of things to you. But this is what I want to say to you. Yes, you hurt me and I cried and it was painful... But I want you to know that I’ve forgiven you, and that you don’t need someone to apologize to forgive them. And I figure that if Jesus could die so that all of my wrongs could be forgiven, then I could certainly extend that same grace to you.
A very refreshing sentiment on a show where God's name is usually invoked by braggarts. Jackson responded to Mandisa's spiel with an “Amen,” while Cowell confessed, “I’m humbled... I’m just so appalling aren’t I?”
Apparently, Hundley has discovered the one thing that cows Simon Cowell--forgiveness.
Because I spent my formative teen years avidly listening to Christian music artist Michael W. Smith and Christian rocker/satirist Steve Taylor, I watched "The Second Chance," a movie which stars Smith and was directed by Taylor, hoping it would not be another cheesy, small-budget Christian flick that would do nothing to convince Hollywood that Christians know anything about storytelling. The movie, which opens in very limited release tomorrow, attempts to earnestly look at church politics, racial division, and urban outreach to the poor by throwing Ethan (played by Smith)--a prodigal son/former musician/associate pastor--together with an unorthodox and often angry African-American pastor, Jake. (Ethan has been sent by his wealthy suburban church to “observe and learn” at Jake’s inner-city church, The Second Chance Community Church.)
Though the acting performances, including Smith’s, are all surprisingly respectable--and I have seen far worse overtly Christian films than this one--there is still much to be critical of in this movie, which beats us over the head again and again with every spiritual cliché possible. But then again, this movie is clearly intended solely for the conservative Christian church community. It is obvious that "Second Chance" was not conceived as a platform to reach the secular marketplace and has no interest in what Hollywood might think of it. So maybe it will touch its intended audience in some way and prompt some healthy conversation among those churchgoers who attend the movie.
But for me, the disappointment lingered long after the final credits rolled, because I want to see Taylor one day direct a truly great indie film that says something fresh about the Christian journey. I have to believe anyone who wrote the lyrics to “I blew up the clinic real good” and “I want to be a clone” has it in him. So when his next flick comes out, I will still give Taylor a second chance and watch it.
For fantasy fans who have yet to discover newcomer Jonathan Stroud's "The Bartimaeus Trilogy," get ready to indulge. Stroud's writing is superb, his characters--and his demons--are funny and variant, and now the final installment in this three-book saga about the trials and tribulations of magicians, commoners, and several species of demons in Britain is out and available.
Fantasy geeks like myself generally appreciate the way that fantasy literature plays with, and often reinterprets, religious traditions, institutions, rituals, and divinities, as well as the idea of religious experience itself. Stroud's third installment in particular, "Ptolemy's Gate," has its own interesting leap into the realm of mysticism, exploring the ideal of a mystical "Reality" or "Oneness." This is represented by what Bartimaeus calls "The Other Place"--the place where all demons go when magicians relieve them of their duties on earth, a place where "there are no divisions" and where life is "not about doing. It's about being." In a rare act of fellowship between human to djinn (spirit), Kitty Jones, a pivotal character in the story, travels to this "Other Place," and she finds herself trying to describe an experience that mystics across traditions claim is rather beyond words. She echoes their sentiment:
She found herself in--well, in did not seem quite appropriate: she found herself part of a ceaseless swirl of movement, neither ending nor beginning, in which nothing was fixed or static. It was an infinite ocean of lights, colors, and textures, perpetually forming, racing, and dissolving in upon themselves, though the effect was neither as thick or solid as liquid nor as traceless as a gas; if anything it was a combination of the two, in which fleeting wisps of substance endlessly parted and converged."
There is much to recommend this trilogy. In addition to its religious undertones, don't forget to read every last footnote in Bartimaeus's chapters, since they provide some of the best humor throughout the entire series.
I had the fortune to attend the stage debut in Burlington, VT, last weekend of "A Bad Boy Can Be Good for a Girl" (Wendy Lamb/Random House), based on Tanya Lee Stone's novel of the same name. The story--about three high school girls who all have the misfortune (or is it fortune?) to date and get their hearts broken by the same "bad boy"--was performed with humor, style, and grace by four local teen actors, and I left the show thinking this novel-turned-play is the next "Vagina Monologues," though this one's for the teen crowd.
The setup was simple: Three stools--Josie, "The Freshman"; Nicolette, "The Girl Who Gets Around"; and Aviva, "The Girl Everybody Likes"--sat on stools (or used them as props) and delivered a series of monologues, while the resident "Bad Boy" lurked silently in the background, making faces and looking over their shoulders, as they debated, pined, and agonized over whether or not to succumb to his charms and give him what he really wanted--sex.
For all the many recently released young adult novels that take on the topic of teens and sex ("Rainbow Party" by Paul Ruditis, "Sandpiper" by Ellen Wittlinger to name two)-and which often include graphic descriptions of sexual encounters--Stone's novel, told entirely in verse, is laugh-out-loud funny, emotionally engaging, and sensitive, as it portrays the girls' feelings as the "Bad Boy" gambles with their hearts and depicts the girls sexual experiences--of which there are many.
A highlight from Josie in "Testing the Waters": "We're totally alone, and I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to be able to hold out on him. According to him, he's been unbelievably ultra patient." And from Aviva in "Short Week": "I'm hyped up from all this attention. It's not just all the attention he's paying me, either. It's like suddenly I'm not just a Criss-Crosser. Suddenly I'm major Mainstream." These are vivid examples of the show's many reflections on how a relationship, sex, and being "picked" by a certain boy can change a girl's social status, wreak havoc on her sense of self, make her feel at one moment thrilled and at another crushed, and tempt her into decisions she will later regret.
The best part of all? Despite the heartbreak, the decisions to have sex with the wrong boy (one girl holds out and gets dumped as a result--you'll have to read to find out which one resists), all three girls find astonishing empowerment, community, and a much-needed space to talk openly and honestly about being a girl who's thinking about having sex--or not--in high school. I imagine this book will be widely read (perhaps clandestinely so) by teen girls everywhere, but most of all, I hope to see stage performances of "A Bad Boy Can Be Good For A Girl" coming soon to high schools all over, because it's the perfect and much-needed conversation starter for discussing sex, for adults and teens alike.
Sure we watch the Olympics for the fantastic athletic competitions, but what we really love is the human drama behind those achievements. And while the past few days have been full of drama--Michelle Kwan relinquishing her spot, Bode Miller not medaling--it’s the truly Olympic moments of overcoming adversity and elevating the human spirit that keep us glued to the television for 16 straight days.
Team USA speedskater Chad Hedrick, competing in his first Olympics, honored the 13th anniversary of his grandmother Geraldine's death with a gold medal win, the first for the U.S. Overwhelmed by the memories of his grandmother, Hedrick, who began openly weeping during his warm-up, wrote her name on the blade of his skate and offered up his performance to her.
Days later, fellow speedskating teammate Joey Cheek, who flew to a gold medal in the men’s 500-meter sprint, announced he will be donating his $25,000 Olympic bonus to Right to Play, an organization started by Cheek’s inspiration and five-time Olympic medalist speedskater Johann Olav Koss. The organization “uses sport and play as a tool for the development of children and youth in the most disadvantaged areas of the world.”
Meanwhile, over at the Palavela Arena, the figure skaters are showing the world that grace and strength are not incompatible. Favorites Tatiana Totmianina and Maxim Marinin overcame confidence issues and skated their way to gold after Totimiana suffered a devastating injury in 2004, when Marinin dropped her from a lift. But it was Zhang Dan and Zhang Hao of China who elicited cheers and tears from the audience at the rink and at home. Attempting a throw quad salchow, Zhang Dan came crashing to the ice, badly injuring her left knee. After skating about for a few minutes and getting the all-clear from their trainer, the pair went on to skate a passionate performance and garnered a hard-earned silver medal.
With these heartfelt and heartwrenching performances in mind, we're wondering what your favorite inspirational Olympic moments have been so far in this Olympiad. Use the comments link to let us know.
"You think you know who you are, but you have no idea." That line is both an ominous warning and a promise of hope, and it exemplifies the moral complexity of the Oscar-nominated film “Crash.” Forget the gay cowboys, unconscionable terrorists, eccentric authors, and desperate transgender parents; “Crash” has been slowly picking up speed by winning at the Golden Globes, the Screen Actor's Guild Awards, and the Writer's Guild Awards--and it is my pick for an Oscar upset.
Writer and director Paul Haggis’s unflinching examination of the lives of a socially and ethnically diverse group of Los Angeles residents, as they collide with each other both physically and emotionally, is a searing look inside the human soul. Haggis (“Million Dollar Baby”) deftly orchestrates a gut-wrenching journey, which takes place over the course of a mere 36 hours. During that time, we witness a politician’s wife, a rookie cop, a T.V. producer, and an immigrant gun-shop owner each being violated, and then in turn becoming violent themselves.
What makes “Crash" different from other films that have dealt with racism and social injustice is the subtle way the story exposes the insidious nature of hatred and bitterness and its effects on the human spirit. It eats away at self-worth while slowly breaking apart the bonds of marital intimacy and family loyalty. Instead of simplistic racist stereotypes, we discover multifaceted characters who slowly begin to recognize the spiritual poverty of their souls. As the men and women in this film find their prejudices and fears violently exposed, each one must wrestle with the decision to perpetuate or end the cycle of hate. For those that choose to be free of anger and hate, a miracle happens: They can begin to recognize and receive grace and forgiveness, whether in the kind words of a Mexican housekeeper or in the miraculous intervention of a child to save her father’s life.
So while "Crash" is uncomfortable and unnerving, we would all do well to reflect on its message. Because no matter who we are on the outside, where we live, or how we were raised, our spirits are hungry for many of the same things--respect, understanding, forgiveness, compassion, and justice. It's how we feed that spiritual hunger that makes any one of us truly capable of the most heroic actions or the most vicious of actions.
I understand the evangelical Christian t-shirt industry’s impulse to turn every catchphrase and mass-culture motto to Jesus’ purposes. A good “Got Jesus?” surfer tee reminds the faithful to keep their eyes on the prize and telegraphs to nonbelievers that serious religion can have a sense of humor.
But isn’t it a tweak too far when a t-shirt re-purposes a phrase made popular by "Napolean Dyanmite," a movie created by Mormons?
Sophie Scholl, executed in 1943 at age 21 for resisting the Nazi regime, has long been a heroine of conscience in Germany, even though the full details of her interrogation and demise weren’t known until recently. A new feature film, “Sophie Scholl: The Final Days”--an Oscar nominee for Best Forei
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I'd never heard of 
I had the fortune to attend the stage debut in Burlington, VT, last weekend of "
"You think you know who you are, but you have no idea." That line is both an ominous warning and a promise of hope, and it exemplifies the moral complexity of the Oscar-nominated film 
I understand the evangelical Christian t-shirt industry’s impulse to turn every catchphrase and mass-culture motto to Jesus’ purposes. A good “