Wednesday, November 28, 2012

From "Jesus at the Movies" -- The Fight Club Gospel

There's a scene in Fight Club, starring Brad Pitt and Edward Norton, which finds Norton being taught by Pitt to make soap.

Pitt's character, Tyler Durden, embodies everything Norton's unnamed narrator aspires to be. It's Durden who makes speeches about "the things [we] own end up owning [us]" and when confronted with the ugly truth about America's consumer culture simply spouts invective: "[Expletive] Martha Stewart. She's polishing the brass on the Titanic...it's all going down."

Through a series of circumstances too intricate to go into here, Norton comes to live with Pitt, and begins to lose the trappings of Americana: his home, his job, his yin-and-yang coffee table. Pitt though, still thinks Norton is being a poseur, simply acting like he's ready to let it all go, while still being too afraid to really take the plunge.


This is a conversion experience of the first order. This is what we might call "the cross side" of Christianity. Jesus said that if any wanted to become his followers, they had to deny themselves, take up their cross and follow him (Matt 16:24). We think that this means discipleship is a hard road, with a heavy burden to bear. We forget that people who carry crosses always end up in the same place: on them. Brad Pitt says, "First you have to give up. You have to know...not fear...know, that someday, you're gonna die." This is the first step to freedom: To know that the road of the cross leads to Calvary. He goes on: "It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything."

We resist. "Lose everything? Deny myself?" we protest. "But that'll mean weakness...and death. That'll be the end of me!" The somethings that we hold on to, the things we imagine are keeping us alive, are the very things that are killing us, and killing us for good. The things we own end up owning us. Ed Norton puts our greatest fear into words: "You don't know how this feels!" We cry so to God, "You rip my desires, my hopes, my dreams...my life!...away from me. You don't know how this feels!" Brad Pitt holds up his hand, showing his scar, proving to the faithless that he's been here before.


Like Thomas, converted by the wounds of the risen Christ, Norton is converted by Brad Pitt's wounds. He has passed this test. He has carried this cross. Jesus Christ has borne his cross so that death can be a beginning, rather than an end, for us. He died so that we might live. He died, and we died with him (Gal 2:20), so that now we can be free. We have to know...not suspect...know, the reality of the cross. It is only then that we can really be.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Bad Preacher: Controlling God in There Will Be Blood


In Paul Thomas Anderson's 2007 oil epic There Will Be Blood, no character can stand in the way of Daniel Day-Lewis' Daniel Plainview. Several try, but they are mowed down by his titanic force of personality and will. Plainview literally seethes in every single scene in the film, even when sitting quietly by the campfire or going for a dip in the ocean. Day-Lewis' performance is so assured and immersive, his Oscar was a foregone conclusion.

Because of Plainview's (and Day-Lewis') dominance of the screen and the film, almost none of the other performances register, including Paul Dano's strange turn as both Paul and Eli Sunday. Paul shows up in an early scene, selling information that his father's ranch has oil on it, and is then never heard from again. Eli, however, is Plainview's main antagonist (although Plainview himself can only honestly be called an antagonist), a fire-and-brimstone-style preacher who wants to make sure that the church gets a piece of Plainview's oil profits.

Unfortunately for Eli, he is not the landowner, and Plainview is able to swindle the naive elder Sunday out of his ranch.  Here's Eli confronting his father about his stupidity:


In another scene, Plainview refuses to let Eli bless the new derrick, which leads (according to Eli) to the death of a worker and an accident involving Plainview's own son.

These two scenes go together to illustrate Eli Sunday's view of God: basically, Eli thinks that we can control God. First of all, he thinks that his blessing can compel God's protective action. No blessing, no protection. Either way, it's Eli who's in control. Secondly, he tells his father that God won't save stupid people. Again, it's people who control their salvation, not God. Smart, saved. Stupid, lost.

All too often, we think about God in the terms that Eli does. We imagine that he is beholden to us, either to our prayer life, to our faithfulness, or to our bidding. In fact (and this is good news), God operates outside of us, and despite us, saving us in our stupidity, and saving the world despite our attempts to destroy it.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Amar'e Stoudemire, The Ewing Theory, and Addition by Subtraction


Bill Simmons, author, editor-in-chief of Grantland, and owner of the sports corner of the internet, has popularized an idea that he calls "The Ewing Theory."  From Simmons' Wikipedia page: "The Ewing Theory claims that when a longtime superstar who has never won a championship leaves the team via injury, trade, or free agency, and the media writes the team off, the team will play better."

The theory takes its name from Patrick Ewing, the all-star center and franchise player for the 1990s New York Knicks, due to the fact that the Knicks always seemed to play better when Ewing was either injured or had to be benched due to foul trouble.  In the theory's most classic example, during the 1998-99 playoffs, Ewing sustained an Achilles' tendon injury, and it was widely assumed that the Knicks' season was over.  However, they promptly defeated the Pacers, even without an answer for Indiana's giant center Rik Smits. They did lose in the Finals, to the David Robinson/Tim Duncan Spurs.

There are Ewing Theory claims being heard now about this year's Knicks.  Amar'e Stoudemire, a perennial All-Star, began the season injured, and pundits immediately stopped talking about the Knick's chances.  But the Knicks have begun the season undefeated, prompting some to wonder whether or not the Knicks might actually be better without their consensus second-best player. The thinking, by the way, is that with Stoudemire off the floor, Carmelo Anthony has more room to operate and doesn't need to even consider giving the ball to someone else (For the sake of clarity, it should be noted that Carmelo never gives the ball to other players, but with Stoudemire on the floor, he has to at least consider it).


So one of the questions facing NBA pundits this season is this: Have the Knicks gotten better by losing a great player?  Has addition by subtraction occurred?

Of course, the addition by subtraction model is as familiar to Christians as a Thomas Kinkade print.  A common prayer is to ask that "we might decrease so that [Christ] might increase."  We know that we are only capable of anything because of Christ who strengthens us (Phil 4:13).  What is less familiar to Christians is the underlying truth of the addition by subtraction formulation: no one subtracts on purpose.

The Patrick Ewing Knicks discovered by accident that playing without Ewing made them better.  The current iteration of the team would never have sidelined Stoudemire intentionally.  And in the same way, we never consciously decrease so that Christ might increase. This is something that God does to us, for our benefit, not something that we do for ourselves. We think too highly of our own abilities to ever think to add by subtraction. So, much like a torn Achilles' tendon or the ruptured cyst in a knee (Stoudemire's ailment), God must break us down against our will in order to resurrect us. It is the only way. I've heard it said that God's job (at least one of them) is to destroy the idols in our lives. Unfortunately for us, our main idol is ourselves.  We must be destroyed in order to be remade.  Fortunately, God promises to do just that.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

An Inspirational Speech: Chuck Pagano and the Power of the Word


Here's Colts head coach Chuck Pagano in the locker room after his team won on Sunday. Pagano has been unable to coach the team this season, having been diagnosed with leukemia and undergoing chemotherapy:


My first response to this video was, "Really?  People are really inspired by the 'Rah rah I'm gonna beat this and we're gonna win' stuff?" I was all prepared to compose a post about that old sports saying that Father Time is undefeated. In the sports world, it's used to call attention to the inevitability of players aging and declining in ability. It happens even to the greatest athletes. There comes a point when they just can't do it anymore. Father Time is undefeated.

We might say the same thing of ourselves: Father Time is undefeated. We can never escape our ultimate fate; not even the best among us, including Chuck Pagano. We might extend our time horizon longer than anyone expected us to, but Father Time is, and will remain, undefeated.

So that's what I was going to write.

But then I watched SportsCenter. And Around the Horn. And Pardon the Interruption. And I listed to the B.S. Report. And people would not stop talking about Pagano's inspirational speech. Sal Iacono (of Jimmy Kimmel Live) told Bill Simmons on the B.S. Report that gamblers should be notified when a sick coach is going to give a speech before a game, because there's no way that team's losing. That's when I remembered that some words have power.

I'm still dubious about coaching speeches having measurable effect on the outcome of games, even speeches like this one:

 

But some words do have power. Words that proclaim forgiveness can be freeing. Words that proclaim freedom can be enlivening. Words that proclaim love can make life worth living. For Christians, these words are all sourced in one place: the risen Christ, the Son of God. When God speaks, his Word creates. Light. Love. Freedom. Life.

Perhaps Chuck Pagano's moving speech is but a pale echo of the true Powerful Words, but I think we can all be glad for an echo that reminds us of the real thing.