Saturday, April 28, 2012

The Light in the Darkness

This is my chapel homily from yesterday morning. I am preaching from the gospel text for the day, Matthew 4:12-17.

Opening verse (for prayer):
“For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake. For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor 4:5-6).

We are all too familiar with darkness. We don’t even need to look beyond ourselves, our families or our friends before we find troubling evidence of sin. Life hurts. We’re broken people--all of us--in need of a savior. We’re part of a world in need of someone who can fix the problems that are too numerous or too--problematic--for us to take care of ourselves. This morning I want to talk about the light amidst this darkness. The guidance, the warmth, the color and life-giving energy which can only be found in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the God who became a man in order to fix the things that can’t be fixed.

In our passage from Matthew this morning, we read about Jesus, who has just been claimed by Father God as his Son and been put to the test by Satan in the wilderness. After the devil’s departure, it says that Jesus traveled to Galilee “so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

‘Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles--
the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, 

and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
light has dawned.’”

The text here tells us something important. The world Jesus lived in was just like ours: it was messed up. In fact, most of us here today would probably have to move to a different country--or at least a different neighborhood--in order to grasp the particular and repugnant ways in which first century Palestine was not a great place to live.

Galilee in particular was especially inessential to the “powers” of that day, sort of a backwater to the already backwater Roman colony of Israel. Think of Luke’s terse introduction of John the Baptist’s ministry--this man was in power here, and another here and another there, and the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. It was the “region and shadow of death”, far removed from so-called civilization as well as the felt board sanitized imaginations of Sunday school.

Moreover, we know that the nation of Israel herself had been suffering the darkness of pagan rule for centuries. And she had been suffering the consequences of her own rebellion even longer than that. As God’s chosen people, Israel demonstrated what it looks like for human beings to be called by God: even when we know the right thing to do, we screw it up over and over again. The history of Israel is kind of like human history, condensed and put in direct relation to God in order to make the point that even with a comprehensive list of all the right things to do humans are still terrible at getting it right. Like the psalmist says, “No one does the right thing.”

These historical particulars make a connecting point for us. If we can see the world Jesus came to as deeply troubled, we can see the deeply troubled world we live in as a theater of operations for Jesus. The fact that we find ourselves in darkness does not undermine the witness of the biblical text, but rather grabs our attention and draws us to seek out the light that can be found there. The fact that we see our unbelief in the pagans underscores the relevance of Christ to us. The fact that we see our resistance to God’s righteousness in the Jews underscores the relevance of Christ to us. Like the people of Galilee, we’re walking about in darkness, sometimes even unaware that we’re looking for the light.

Jesus, as God incarnate, could walk out into the wilderness like Israel and there remain faithful to Father God unlike Israel. He was the Word--that personage in the God of Israel prone to reveal and communicate the transcendent God to his finite creation. And he was the Word become flesh, God made human so that not only could the truth be spoken to creation, but that creation itself might be changed, might be redeemed and reflect the beauty and truth of God once more. Just as Israel demonstrated humanity’s incapacity for change, Jesus the God-man demonstrated a humanity infused with the power of salvation--a light in the darkness. Jesus, in and of himself, was the announcement that humanity would not forever be bound by sin and chaos, that all powers political and spiritual were undone and being undone by him, the true king.

Like a porchlight attracting moths, Jesus proceeded to go about Galilee proclaiming the same message as John the Baptist: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” For those of us living in darkness, the introduction of light to our environment hurts our eyes at first, pushes us away, and we find that we’re actually more comfortable in the dark. We’ve become accustomed to slavery--as C.S. Lewis said, we’re like children playing in the mud who don’t understand what’s being offered when we’re invited to go on holiday at the sea. The Light in our midst shows us for who we really are, and, though it pains us, we must own our failures and dysfunctions and walk toward the light anyway.

I say then, to myself and everyone here, “Repent!” Look at the light. Look to the God-man Jesus Christ, the one who shows us that human beings can now once for all be empowered to fulfill the special calling of God. The longer we cling to our business-as-usual, crappy way of life the more we hurt ourselves and we hurt others. Let us embrace the risen Lord Jesus and walk in his light, full of the grace and love that dispel sin and bring peace and blessing. Save us, God! Deliver us from darkness and let the light of Christ shine in our hearts! Amen.

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Lights in the Darkness

Hey everyone, I've started a dedicated film blog at www.lightsinthedarkness.com.  Check it out if you're interested.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Blank Comedy

Death to Smoochy or Friday?

"Tasteful Child-Killing"

I have almost no exposure to The Hunger Games, but I found some comments from this review to be insightful about the way blockbuster film-making tends to sanitize certain themes for the sake of mass appeal.  The fact that the theme in this case is child sacrifice makes the point ever more potent.

"The audience at Monday’s packed preview of The Hunger Games came out juiced and happy, ready to spread the good word, while all I could think was,They’ve just seen a movie in which twenty-plus kids are murdered. Why aren’t they devastated? If the filmmakers had done their job with any courage, the audience would have been both juiced and devastated."
"If the movie’s director, Gary Ross, has qualms about kids killing kids he doesn’t share them with the audience. The murders onscreen are quick and, apart from a mean girl stung to death by wasps, clean. The cutting is so fast that you can hardly see what’s happening, which has already won Ross praise for his restraint, his tastefulness. Tasteful child-killing!"
"By taking the sting out of death, he has a made a slaughterfest for the whole family."
"But where is the pervasive, lingering sense of loss? Where is the horror? Maybe the true horror is how easily the movie goes down."
The problem of sanitization is endemic to the economics of film-making, so this outcome should come as no surprise.  I think these words grabbed because of my sneaking suspicion that I'm about to be seeing lots of Facebook updates about how awesome The Hunger Games movie is.

On the other hand, how awesome would it be if the film's tagline in posters and movie trailers was:


Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Rise of the Planet of the Apes, reviewed.

The Planet of the Apes series is a vintage science fiction film and television saga detailing the decline of the human race and Earth's eventual takeover by super-intelligent simians. It began in 1968 with Charlton Heston as a astronaut crash-landed on what he believes to be an alien planet where apes hunt and enslave man until the film's big ending: it's Earth! That shouldn't be a spoiler for most people--Fox studios didn't seem to think so, as Rise (hereafter, RotPotA) presumes this ending--but here's the dramatic and iconic reveal even Madagascar assumes you'll understand:



Having only seen the first film, I have no idea how the most recent film coheres with the Apes canon, so to speak, except to say that I learned from IMDb that Battle for the Planet of the Apes does in fact feature a super-intelligent ape named Caesar leading the simian uprising against the human race.

Where RotPotA picks up, it's roughly the modern day and Dr. Will Rodman (a miscast James Franco) is researching an Alzheimer's cure by treating chimpanzees with gene therapy. Actually, if you've seen Deep Blue Sea, the premise is cut and pasted from that film but with monkeys switched out for sharks. Nevertheless, RotPotA is exhibit A for Ebert's maxim that a movie is not good because of what it's about, but because of how it's about it--i.e. it's all in, you know, they way they tell the story. Franco aside, the film does an excellent job of: (1) grounding and humanizing its premise and (2) executing its conflict and resolution with panache.

The always-excellent John Lithgow plays the doctor's Alzheimer's-afflicted father. Some of the most intriguing parts of the film juxtapose his mental decay with the ape's mental enhancement--it's not every summer action film that skillfully shows the distance between species collapsing. I was reminded of the contrasting trajectories of 2001, which shows ape being lifted up into humanity, and the rest of Stanley Kubrick's films, which generally depict some form of dehumanization. Writing about The Shining, the late great film critic Pauline Kael wrote, "The bone that was high in the air has turned into Jack's axe, held aloft, and Jack, crouched over, making wild, inarticulate sounds as he staggers in the maze, has become the ape." These ideas are central to the Apes saga, which, based on the original film, seem to have been first intended as a commentary on fundamentalism, science and evolution during a time of radical social upheaval (the 1960s).



As for the execution, it's the apes that make this movie, and rightly so. Weta Digital--Peter Jackson's kiwi answer to Lucas's ILM--brings the Avatar magic once again, this time making fully digital creations intended to blend naturalistically with everyday settings. They are fantastic specifically for not drawing attention to themselves: the effects exist to render nuanced performances and complex and dangerous sequences which animal actors could never have pulled off. Andy Serkis (of Gollum and Kong fame) serves as the mo-cap actor for the prime primate Caesar, non-verbally communicating the rise of higher consciousness in an animal and thereafter autonomy and open rebellion. It's a fascinating process to behold.



Caesar's rebellion foments and plays out in the typical manner of narratives of uprising and revolt. He first comes to detest his human captivity after encountering a leashed dog while being walked in the woods by the doctor and his girlfriend (the beautiful Freida Pinto). He is placed in an ape sanctuary by court order after violently protecting Lithgow's confused Alzheimer's patient from a belligerent neighbor. There is mistreated, establishes group dominance, and escapes in order to spread the gene therapy that could make more monkeys smarter and rise up against their, er, captors. This all leads to a so-so climax on a fog-enshrouded Golden Gate Bridge where the apes go toe-to-toe with human law enforcement and where, presumably, the first ape ever rides horseback (an iconic image from the Heston film).



In short, it's heady, exciting fun with a B-movie premise and an eye towards (quasi-)naturalism. However, the film barely exceeds ninety minutes, and the ending feels undercooked and rushed as a result. Additionally, there is a subplot about the gene-therapy virus infecting and killing humans that is meant to wrap-up some loose questions (wouldn't the national guard just go into the redwoods and shoot all the monkeys dead?). But it feels cheaply cribbed from the excellently demented 12 Monkeys as well as flagrantly at odds with the underlying nuclear implications of the original movie. But if you're just looking for a good time from Redbox, I'd say it's more than worth the $1.27.

*btw, if you haven't seen Planet of the Apes (I hadn't, before yesterday), it's streaming on Netflix right now. It's a lot better than you would guess, and is probably second only to 2001 in terms of 1960s science fiction films.