progressive involvement

Coming soon: August 11

 

Stanley Kubrick meets the Book of Job: a short review of "Tree of Life'

Terence Malick's "Tree of Life" begins with a quote from the book of Job:  "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?...when the morning stars sang together."  In the book of Job, this is God's answer to Job's quite justifiable complaints:  I know more about what's going on than you do.

The ensuing story is about a Texas family, the O'Brien's, in the 1950's.  Mrs. O'Brien (Jessica Chastain) receives a telegram, at home, that brings grim news.  She calls her husband (Brad Pitt) who is at work.  We slowly gather that one of their three sons has died.  

Then, in the ultimate flash-back, Malick goes all the way to the beginning of time.  Assuming the big bang theory and evolution, Malick gives us his version of the creation of the universe, and 5 billion years of history.  We see a flickering flame, crashing waves, primordial chaos, light upon water, life coming into cells.  We even see a dinosaur who appears to have a moment of compassion.  

This dramatic opening raised hopes for a movie that might operate in the context of a Teilhardian-Tillichian view of life.  These two 20th century theologians, especially Teilhard, wrote Christian theology for people living after Darwin.  (People today often associate the Christian faith with opposition to evolution.  It is not so.  The majority of Christians actually take the opposite view, i.e. that God created the universe and used evolution to do it.)

The O'Brien family's story is set within the context of the on-going creation of the universe.  Creation is in process, and creation images abound throughout the movie.  The water images signify the watery chaos.  The light images signify God.   The trees signify the "tree of life" in the Garden of Eden.

Mr. O'Brien is a loving but stern father.  He has moments of great affection with his three boys, but also some moments of heartlessness, even cruelty.  He was not atypical in his time.  He insists his sons call him "father"--it was an age when everyone supposed that "father knows best."

We learn that Mr. O'Brien had his own grief.  He had wanted to be a classical pianist.  That dream had been unattainable, and he'd had to "settle" into a white collar job at the industrial plant that supported his middle-class family.  His disappointment is expressed through his exhortations toward striving, as if grief could be overcome through exhortations to accomplishment.

Several critics have talked about the interplay of "nature" and "grace" in the movie.  Mr. O'Brien is said to be a figure representing the harshness of nature, while Mrs. O'Brien is the character of loving grace.  This seems too pat.  More on point is that the griefs and trials of life, expressed in their own ways by both Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien, are seen in the context of all of creation where there is, yes, loss and grief, but also light and hope.

The story is told from the perspective of the oldest son, Jack, who appears also as an adult played by Sean Penn.  Jack is the one who most feels the contradictions of his life.  He sees tragedy around him, and seems to feel it in his bones.  His father's way of discipline and striving is not only inadequate to the proportion of the human problem, but also seems to issue in despotism.  When your world is careening out of control, it can be tempting, if futile, to try to re-assert control.

You might say this is a Christian movie--God is both at the beginning and end of the movie, as well as all the way through it--but it would not be considered Christian in the familiar way of Hollywood.  There are no glib answers or easy pieties, in other words.  

Yet, near the center of the movie is an image of Jesus in stained-glass.  He is wearing purple.  Purple is the color of royalty.  In the ancient world, purple dye was quite expensive.  Only the king could afford to wear it.  Purple is also the color of suffering and spiritual depth.  Purple is the color of Lent for these two reasons.  

The Biblical story behind the image is from John's gospel when Jesus is standing before Pilate, and Pilate asks his famous question, "What is truth?"  The question seems to haunt Jack.  What is truth?  Jack is frequently shown gazing toward the light, but he mostly looks to the light through a window.  An invisible barrier seems to keep him from breaking through.

Of course it does.  Malick's view is that life's tragedies cannot be understood, just as Job's trials could not be understood.  We cannot, by striving, overcome tragedy.  Tragedy can only be endured unless or until some revelation serves to place it in a larger context.  As the Greek poet, Aeschylus, put it:

Even in our grief, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our despair, and against our own will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God. 

Is "Tree of Life" a "good" movie?  Yes.  Malick deals with some weighty material.  The book of Job, after all, deals with one of the most central questions of life:  Why do bad things happen to good people?  The O'Brien's are good people.  Indeed, they are very nearly the archetype of what was considered "good" in the 1950's.  Yet, they are punished, and each of them tormented.  Something isn't right.  Father is wrong.  

To his credit, Father admits it.  When his son dies, he expresses remorse that he had been too strict with his son.  He had been too much of a perfectionist about getting his son to turn the pages properly as he played the organ.  He links his son's death with his own personal tragedy and now realizes that his perfectionism, his search for mastery, has gone nowhere.  

Is that why Mr. O'Brien never became a classical pianist?  In order to perform at that high a level, more than technical skill is required.  You can focus so much on playing the right notes that you miss the "music" that lies in, with, and under them.

Is this movie hopeful?  Yes.  Suffering is seen in the context of the cosmos, and tragedy is ultimately redeemed.  Nothing about it was easy, but grace and love endure in the end.  Is it beautiful?  Yes.  Terrence Malick has crafted some of the most beautiful images ever to appear on film--see "Days of Heaven" for example--and this one is like unto it.  

The musical score is magnificent.  For themes of this nature--the creation of the world and human suffering--only classical music will do.  Mahler, Smetana, Mussorgsky, Holst, Gorecki drive the movie.  (Is this just me, or did Mr. O'Brien have a moment of revelation during his playing of Bach?) 

Now for some criticism.  Is the movie entertaining?  No.  The movie is long, non-linear, and sometimes incoherent.  People have gotten frustrated, and walked out--a fair number of them by this report.  Long stretches are tedious, and sometimes seem pointless.

The voice-overs want to sound insightful and "spiritual," but come off sounding rather affected and pretentious.  No clear narrative line exists, which can be frustrating and confusing.  It is never quite clear who Jack is.  Is he a younger brother, or the older?  

The scene of heaven--the beach scene--seemed surreal and grim.  Everything is there--all has been recapitulated--but Jack seems unaffected.  Finally, it was too long.  Archetypal imagery is splendid, but a little goes a long way.

Some critics have said that this is a movie you either love or hate.  Either you find it emotionally deep and compelling, or you find it tedious and pompous.  Contrary to the critics, my reaction is somewhere in the middle.  You have to applaud Malick for his ambition and insight, and gorgeous cinematography.  On the other hand, is there a rule that the great themes of creation and redemption must be murky and laborious?  Mystery is one thing.  Tedium is quite another.

That said, the sunflower scene was the heart of the movie for me.  We are the sunflowers, Malick seems to say.  We all share the same basic questions of life.  Yet, each sunflower is also different from every other.  No two are exactly alike.  The same basic questions affect and wound each of us in different ways.  

This is why sunflowers keep their face to the sun.  The light offers no answers to any dilemma, no philosophies to help one endure, no method by which one may attain peace.  The light brings only light and life.  This may not be what we wanted exactly, but it's exactly what we need if all of life, both joy and sorrow, is to be held in God.  In its way, this is God's blessing.

The Beauty of Life
The Tree of Life at MOVIECLIPS.com

  

 

Brief tour of earth

Courtesy of NASA:    

On the, uhm...Recent Awkwardness

The religious interbuzz has comment all over the place on Harold Camping and the failure of the world to come to an end last Saturday.  Gary Laderman has an interesting piece at Religion Dispatches, likewise Kenny Smith at religionnerd.

The former makes the point that pretty much all religions have some kind of end time scenario, although I'm not too sure that question would really apply all that much in hinduism or buddhism.  A focus on an end is going to be more present in cultures who see history as being on a trajectory rather than as being on a cycle.

Many Christians believe we are living in the last days.  Recent polls show a sizeable minority believe that the world will end in their lifetimes.  This has been true all along--Luther thought he was living in the last days as did Paul--and, in a sense, this belief has been true all along.

Hebrews 1 does say, after all:  "In many and various way, God spoke to the people of old by the prophets, but now in these last days, God has spoken to us by a Son."  "These last days" have been the past 2000 years, up to, and including, the present moment--and all future moments.  

We run amok if we get involved in the details.  Almost all Biblical comment on the subject is metaphor--words in search of words to describe the indescribable.  The real truth of the matter--the theological core, the gospel nugget--is that all of time and history is subsumed within Christ.

This is Cosmic Christ territory--Christ the "pantocrator," whose figure adorns the dome of Greek Orthodox cathedrals, symbolizing Christ's rule of the cosmos.  Colossians 1:

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation...in him all things in heaven and on earth were created...all things have been created through him and for him...he himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 

Cosmic Christ theology has been around a long time, although it hasn't always been called that.  Paul could be counted in its camp, as well as the author of the fourth gospel and Revelation.  In fact, a great deal of the early theology dealt with cosmic themes.

When you literalize it, though, everything turns kind of sour.  The Book of Revelation is actually a wonderful poem on the, indeed, the cosmic nature of Christ's victory.  When you start fussing about how many horns the demons have, or the precise timetable of this or that, then, as we used to say on the farm, "Mister, you're driving your ducks to a mighty poor pond."

Rob Bell is a mainline protestant, quite possibly a Lutheran

Yes, he's pastor of an evangelical church, but I've read a couple of his books now--Velvet Elvis and Love Wins--and they both seemed pretty Lutheran to me.  (I'm still quoting Velvet Elvis, by the way.  Did you know that, by the age of 10, a young Hebrew male in the first century would have memorized the entire Torah?)

Love Wins argues that we just can't know who's in heaven or hell, but it's neither wise--nor Christian, really--to bet against God's love, and God's desire for everyone to be "saved."  

He came to this conclusion because of conversations with new attendees at his church.  Is Gandhi in hell because he wasn't Christian? they would ask.  It was dialog with people outside the church--people asking tough questions--which moved Bell to his current position.  

This is, in a nutshell, Paul Tillich's "method of correlation."  Bell was influenced by the concerns and questions of the secular culture as expressed through the people he met.  In turn, he responds to those questions in light of the Christian faith, and, moreover, he responds as a partner in dialog, not as an overlord with all the answers.

He makes his point Biblically, and reasonably well.  He notes, for example, that the phrase "personal Savior," so integral to evangelicalism, never actually appears in the Bible.  In the chapter on hell, he traces the various images of hell through the Bible, from its beginning in the shadow-world of the Hebrew sheol to the burning garbage dump (gehenna) of the New Testament.  

He goes on at some length on the meaning of the Greek word aion--usually translated "eternal" or "forever," but which also means "coming age."  When aion is translated as "forever," it gives the impression that the current arrangements--time and history as we know it--will go on and on.  Actually, it more likely means the end of this current world and the inauguration of something new.

Each chapter has several Biblical references, many compared and contrasted with others.  This is not the normal evangelical method.  Evangelicals usually cite the Bible to buttress ideological points.  The Bible is used to answer questions, not generate them.

Bell does it differently.  He traces ideas through texts, and compares one text with another.  This inspires questions, and Bells seems to like questions very much.  ("Gandhi is in hell?  Really?  Without a doubt?")

Bell has been called a "universalist" who believes that everyone is "saved."  Bell himself doesn't use the word in Love Wins, and has generally avoided using it in subsequent interviews about the book.  He is being coy, but wisely so.  He wants people to focus on the questions he raises, not jump to a conclusion about his own personal beliefs (so they can trash them and him).

In any case, so what if he is a univeralist?  Christian history is punctuated with the names of many "universalists"--Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Clement of Alexandria, Basil the Great, St. Gregory of Naziansus, on down to Teilhard de Chardin, Jacque Ellul, Jurgen Moltmann, and Paul Tillich in the modern age.

In fact, considering the breadth of Biblical support for the idea, we could fairly ask why more Christians aren't universalists.  How else are we to interpret Colossians 1: 19--"through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things"?  Or 1 Corinthians 8: 6?  Or John 12: 32?  Or Hebrews 1?  Or Ephesians 1-2?  Or, even, as Bell notes, John 3: 16, which says that God so loved the universe, the cosmou, and not just Christians alone.

Universalism is not one thing.  It has several varieties.  The two most popular are "hard universalism" and "soft universalism."  "Hard universalism" is the position that everyone goes to heaven whether they want to be there or not.  Greek Orthodox theology can be cited in support of this position.  "Soft universalism" asserts that everyone, now or later, has an opportunity to go to heaven.  Robert Farrar Capon is in this category.  He believes in hell, but also believes that you could get up and walk right out of the place if you wanted to.  

This is reminiscent of a seminary class conversation in which our professor was striking a strongly universalist note at which a fellow classmate said, "But don't you have to have faith?"  The professor responded by saying, "When you're resurrected, you'll have faith."

Peter Marty's review in the Christian Century, however, contained this comment:  "Charging Bell with being a universalist doesn't work.  Not only does the idea never appear in the book, nothing could be less applicable to somebody with Bell's own passionate faith in Jesus Christ." (CC, May 17, 2011, p. 25)

Actually, "charging" Bell with being a universalist does work, and the idea is never far from any page in Love Wins.  And just why is being a universalist somehow contrary to Bell's "passionate faith" in Christ?  It is precisely because he believes in Christ, and the universal nature of Christ's work, that Bell comes to his position.  

That is, in fact, his whole point, a point Marty concedes a scant two paragraphs later.  He quotes Bell--"there is an exclusivity on the other side of inclusivity"--with approval to note that, yes, Christ is the way and that he "leaves the door to himself as wide open as the universe."  Quoting Bell again, "He is as exclusive as himself and as inclusive as containing every single particle of creation." 

The book is thin--it has less than 200 pages, and most of these have a lot of white space.  Nor is it particularly well-written, unless you have a penchant for incomplete sentences.  It made news because Rob Bell is an megachurch evangelical--a "rock-star popular" pastor--who is making mainline protestant points.  If a Presbyterian or an Episcopalian had written these words--they have, many times over--no one would have batted an eye.

 

 

 

Technically speaking, the "immortality of the soul" is not a Christian belief

The Raab Collection is offering for sale a letter written by William Herndon, Abraham Lincoln's best friend, in which Herndon discusses Lincoln's religious beliefs.  Lincoln kept his religious views pretty much to himself and evidence on the subject is sparse.  The asking price is $35,000, incidentally.  Said Herndon:

"At one time in his life, to say the least, he was an elevated Pantheist, doubting the immortality of the soul as the Christian world understands that term. He believed that the soul lost its identity and was immortal as a force. Subsequent to this he rose to the belief of a God, and this is all the change he ever underwent. I speak knowing what I say. He was a noble man – a good great man for all this," he wrote.

"I love Mr. Lincoln dearly, almost worship him, but that can’t blind me. He’s the purest politician I ever saw, and the justest man. I am scribbling – that’s the word – away on a life of Mr. Lincoln – gathering known-authentic – true facts of him."

19th century America was strongly influenced by the "spiritualist" movement which took to the idea of the "immortality of the soul" in a big way--Mrs. Lincoln reportedly hosted a seance herself.

The idea comes from Greek philosophy.  Plato believed that only the spiritual world was really real.  The physical world we inhabit is but a pale imitation of the spiritual world.  

They were body/soul dualists.  The body was inferior because it was bound by physicality.  The soul was superior because it was immortal.  In fact, while inhabiting a body, the soul had to suffer what the Greeks regarded as the indignity of materiality.

The early Hebrews didn't think like this.  They could speak of a person's "heart" or "spirit" or even "soul," but they didn't see this as being distinct from the person themselves--that is, the "soul" or, more frequently, "heart" was seen as the essence of the person and not something distinct from the person.

The Apostles' Creed says "resurrection of the body"--not "immortality of the soul."  The Nicene Creed says "resurrection of the dead"--not "John Brown's body lies a 'moldren in the grave, but his immortal soul goes marching on!"

 

What is it about anakephalaiososthai ta panta that you don't understand?

I just ordered the new Rob Bell book yesterday--Love Wins.  Several evangelicals have already disparaged the book, even though none of the critics have yet read it.  

Purportedly, the reason for the angst is that Bell argues for something called "universalism," which, depending on the definition you use, is the idea that everyone, one way or another, goes to heaven when they die.

Lots of Christian thinkers have had universalist tendencies--Tillich, Barth, de Chardin, Rahner, all the way back to Origen, Alexandrian Christianity, and, some would say, Gregory of Nyssa.  (Exclusivists consider it a heresy, but then they consider almost everything a heresy.)

Which raises the question:  Considering that this is hardly something new, what is it about Bell's book that has inspired such opposition?  Otagosh thinks it's because Bell writes for a broad audience.  When the discussion is in the rarified atmosphere of theologians and academics, nobody cares too much.  When word starts getting out to the masses, that's different.  

Logically, there are only two options:  (1)  some people are "saved," or (2) all people are "saved."  (I'm putting "saved" in quotation marks because the Biblical meaning of salvation is much wider than simply going to heaven when you die, though that is usually how American Christians think of it.)

Hacking Christianity has a helpful illustration, which broadens the above two categories to display some nuance within the two positions:

Predestination is, of course, the hard Calvinist position that God has chosen some to be saved and some to be damned and there's not a thing you can do about it.

Exclusivism is the belief that only those who have faith in Christ are saved.  Inclusivism is the idea that all faiths lead to something good for the members of those faiths.  

Christian Inclusivism is the view that there may be and probably will be people of other faiths, or even no faith, in heaven, and they will get there because of Christ.  This view finds truth in both these statements of Jesus:  "And I, when I am lifted up, will draw all to myself" (John 12: 32) and "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life" (John 14: 6).

Universalism has two sub-categories, according to Hacking:  soft universalism and hard universalism.  The former is that everyone will have an opportunity, in this life or the next, to go to heaven.  They will also have the opportunity not to.  Hard universalism means that everyone goes to heaven, period, whether they want to or not, rather like this Greek Orthodox cartoon actually:

Pluralism means that everyone goes to their own "heavenly place."  In this view, there are many possible destinations.

May Rob Bell's book have a wide readership and generate a civil and fruitful discussion!  

Incidentally, the phrase, anakephelaiosostha ta panta means "the gathering up of all things into the head," a phrase written by fourth century theologian, St. Ireneus.

Lectionary blogging: John 1: 1-18

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own,and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John testified to him and cried out, ‘This was he of whom I said, “He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.” ’) From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.

Translation:  In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and God was the Word.  This (Word) was in the beginning with God.  All came into being through him, and apart from him nothing happened in that which begins.  In him was life and the life was the light of humanity.  And the light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.

It happened, a man named John sent from alongside God.  This man came to witness in order that he might witness concerning the light so that all might trust through him.  He was not that light, but in order that he might witness concerning the light.  The true light which enlightens all humanity was coming into the universe.  He was in the universe, and the universe became through him, but the universe did not perceive him.  He came into his own, and his own did not receive him.  But as many as received him, he gave them power to become children of God, the ones trusting into his name, who were born not of bloodshed nor out of flesh-will, nor out of man-will, but out of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived in us and we have beheld his glory, glory as only-born from alongside the Father, full of grace and truth.  John witnessed about him and he cried out, saying, "This is he whom I said the one coming after me happened before me because he was before me."  For out of his plentitude we all have received, grace against grace, for the law through Moses was given, the grace and the truth came to be through Jesus Christ.  No one has ever seen God, only-begotten God, the one in the bosom of the Father, he has translated.

Fundamentalism may not survive the 21st century

According to a new Gallup poll, 40% of Americans are, basically, youth earth creationists, i.e. believe the earth is about 10,000 years old.

On the one hand, this is a depressingly large number.  On the other hand, it is a number that is in steady decline.  It was 47% in 1999.  I remember seeing a poll some time ago that estimated the number in 1960 to be about two-thirds.

The next largest group of respondents, only two points behind at 38%, "believe that humans have evolved from more basic organisms but with God playing a role in the process."  16% believe in evolution with no divine influence, up from 9% in 1982.

 

If you really want to learn about God, skip the religion section

I stopped in at two area bookstores yesterday--one of the finest bookstores in the country, the Tattered Cover, and my local Borders.  The TC is a great bookstore overall, but their coffeeshop area, which was superior in their old location at Cherry Creek, has been cut way back.  Borders, on the other hand, has an excellent coffee section, but I still haven't figured out where their new non-fiction is.

In the course of each visit, and as per usual, I check the religion section.  They always have have a ton of Bibles.  This is not surprising, of course, since the Good Book is a major best-seller.  Bibles usually occupy two full shelves. 

Folks, there are only about half a dozen really popular translations.  If you already have one of those, you really don't need the "teenagers' Bible" or the "patriots' Bible" or the "nerd's Bible" or the "bikers' Bible" or whatever. 

The content is the same as any other Bible.  What you're buying is somebody else's commentary--commentary which is, to be kind, "uneven."  Read the Bible for yourselves, people.  You don't need somebody to tell you what it means.

Most of the religion section, both at TC and Borders, is comprised of "Christian Fiction."  These are your Rebecca-of-Sunnybrook-farm kind of books--either that, or Tim LaHaye's all-the-liberals-die books. 

The theology section is usually somewhat thin in most bookstores.  These two, however, had several offerings, including several classics.  Each had books by several major theologians, including Augustine, Luther, and Bonhoeffer, and some contemporary authors as well.

Though you may purchase it at both locations, avoid the new Bonhoeffer book.  The reviews have been roundly negative because it appears the author, who tries to turn Bonhoeffer into an American-style evangelical, obviously doesn't know that much about Bonhoeffer.

Another section, sometimes called "spirituality" or "Christian living" is often large also.  The majority of books in these categories are schlock--dreary, kitschy, and pious--and all seem to assume that we want to live in a Minneapolis suburb in about 1955. 

Sprinkled in among them, however, are a small minority of truly interesting books.  Some of the newer writers from the emergent church, for example, are expressing and giving shape to what I hope will be the Christianity of the future. 

I think about someone who wants something to shape up her teenage son--give him a dose of religion, maybe that'll help--and picks up Brennan Manning or Rob Bell, or the home-school mom who wants to learn more about Bible and buys a book by Dom Crossan.  Such are the little victories of the Holy Spirit!

On the other hand, I think of those many people who are looking and searching.  Maybe they have a specific problem--divorce, death, job--or maybe they struggle with meaning and purpose.  They might stop by to see if the Christian faith has anything to say to them.  What do we have to offer?  Tim LaHaye and the Patriots' Bible?

Someone once said that Jesus preached the kingdom of God, but what we actually got was the church.  Similarly, Christianity is purportedly about Jesus of Nazareth, but unfortunately, it more usually reflects the values of the people who killed him.