What do you think of answering the problem of evil by supposing that God used to be omnipotent, but voluntarily gave up some of that power to make room for humanity -- therefore (1) there are things God can't do on God's own anymore, and (2) it's up to us to repair the universe and heal the broken pieces that God can no longer reach?
---Ben
--------------------------------
Thanks for the question, Ben!
It certainly is an interesting way to approach the problem of evil, and offers an answer. I even agree with it to a certain extent... the idea that the existence of humanity in the world enables the possibility of evil part, certainly.
It's the thought process on omnipotence where I start to quibble.
I'm a huge believer that theology can't just explain things. With the diversity of ideas to be found in the scriptures and the commentaries that have come after, simply having a workable grand theological theory isn't enough for me. I need that theory to serve a purpose, to be itself part of the Good News.
And for me, that requires that God's Omnipotence remains intact.
Like I said before, my personal approach to the problem of evil is similar to this one wherein I believe that there are things that God DOESN'T do because at some point in the process God made a choice concerning free will, allowing humanity to choose it's own course. The way I think of it, however, God still COULD do those things. Whether or not God acts is a choice, rather than God having given up the agency to act.
I resist Process theology, and other similar schools of thought that solve the problem of evil through downplaying the Power of God, because to my mind, once you have taken that path, you haven't just removed a power level from God, you have removed God.
I am not interested in a God who means well, but can't effect the change in the world we'd like to see. That is a God who basically exists to bring the world into existence, and everything else is up to us. So what then is the point of Christ, or the Holy Spirit? The God this leaves us is a God who made us, and maybe even loves us, but now is basically ineffectual.
I'd rather believe in the God that is more problematic theologically (so WHY can't you stop Bone Cancer, again?) but can actually be effectual in the world beyond Aunt Nellie style well wishes. I like the idea that though God has chosen not to intervene now for whatever reasons, God will someday, and while I do believe that we are called to work in the world to make it a better place, that the onus for that work does not, ultimately, lie with us.
If the only way to reconcile ourselves with God is to make God no longer God, I feel like it would be more intellectually honest to simply be atheist.
Still, a good question! How we think about these different theological approaches, and why we favor one approach over another, is a very important part of how our worldviews and our faith interact.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
The World is Not Our Enemy
What do you think of all the Christian fixation on Transgendered people in Bathrooms? -Anonymous
----
I don't think much of it at all, Anon.
Sometimes I wonder if there is a certain type of person in the world who feels the need to have an opponent in life, a fight to win. Since everyone wants to be the hero of their own story, you pick a target you're pretty sure you can beat. Targets may vary, especially as the world changes. Ethnic minorities and Gay people, for instance, used to be much easier targets than they are now (Though they certainly get way more than their share of persecution.) and so it seems that lately people have decided to go to war over where, precisely, a Trans person is permitted to pee.
When the person looking for a fight is Christian, the impulse usually comes from a certain mindset that can be quite prevalent in North American Christianity. We want to be in the Lord's Army, we want to fight the good fight. To be seen as warriors for the good! Superheroes, powered by faith. It makes for a good sermon, gets people pumped and ready to go, gets money into the offering plate. So we look for someone to fight. And now that the Gay community has won a couple of bouts and people are being made to look like backwards idiots for attacking them, folks are transitioning their more public scorn to the trans community.
Theologically, the Biblical argument against the state of Transgender is even shakier than the one against homosexuality, which was always far more tenuous than people tended to think. At least the argument against homosexuality had some basis, a scripture or two that supported them. While the scriptures have several things to say about how men and women should behave, the genders are never defined. Not once, not remotely, no definition even IMPLIED.
When it comes to the state of Transgender, the scriptures are silent. So if you want a Biblical Crusade against Transgendered people, you're out of luck... all you have to campaign on are your own prejudices, which the Scriptures happen to say A LOT about, oh ye with logs in your eye.
There's another small problem, though, for those seeking targets for their Biblical Campaign against the world. The Bible is pretty clear on the point that our approach towards the world is not meant to be one of conquerors. And it isn't particularly subtle about it.
My favorite example of this is in the Gospels, when the guards come to arrest Jesus. Peter (always a great analogue for the church) pulls a sword and swings it, cutting off the ear of the slave of the High Priest. (So yeah, when Peter decided to be a revolutionary, he attacked the slave. Not, you know, the people with actual power or soldiers. He's a zealot, but he's not stupid.) Jesus gives him a "are you kidding me?" look and tells him, "look, fisherman Bob. If I needed soldiers, I would have soldiers. Legions upon Legions of Angels, remember? Heavenly Host ring a bell? What makes you think I need you swinging a sword for me?" (This is a loose paraphrase.)
If you, as a Christian, truly believe in an all-powerful God, isn't it just a little bit egotistical to believe that the only reason the All-Powerful Creator of Everything hasn't gotten His Way yet is because you haven't yelled at anyone today?
It gets better, though! A great story from the Book of Acts tells how Paul and Silas, two Christians on a world tour, got beaten and thrown into jail for driving a demon from a slave girl. While in prison, God sent an earthquake and, rather than bringing the whole building down on their heads, it opened the doors to their cells and removed their chains.
How is that for a Faith Based Superpower!? Super-precise Earthquakes!
When the Jailer heard of the Earthquake and came and saw the gates open, he prepared to take his own life. (Roman law was particularly harsh on Jailers who lost their prisoners.) He was surprised, however, to hear Paul's voice... still in the cell, with Silas. Amazed that they hadn't escaped, he came and asked them about this God they kept prattling on about... because obviously something was different about them.
To hear it from the average "crusading Christian" that you might encounter on the streets or in social media, Paul should have just taken off, shouting "The Power of Christ, Bitches! That'll show you!" and rode off into the sunset. But instead Paul showed love, and compassion. And curiously it was the love and compassion, not the super Faithquake, that earned to respect and curiosity of the jailer.
We are no good for the world when we are fighting it. Instead we are petty, petulant brats who earn all the vitriol we receive. But when Christians focus, instead, on loving those around them, caring for them and upholding dignity and decency, people start to wonder about us and think that maybe, just maybe, there may be something to all this faith stuff we drivel on about.
So don't bother attacking Trans people on Biblical grounds. You don't have a scriptural leg to stand on, and even if you did, it's not like you've bothered following all of Leviticus, anyway. But more importantly, stop looking for that scriptural fight. God doesn't need your defending, has never needed it. Instead, God has sent you to love, care for, and respect the world he created, and all the people in it.
When you do that, you can really, finally, be an effective messenger of your faith.
----
I don't think much of it at all, Anon.
Sometimes I wonder if there is a certain type of person in the world who feels the need to have an opponent in life, a fight to win. Since everyone wants to be the hero of their own story, you pick a target you're pretty sure you can beat. Targets may vary, especially as the world changes. Ethnic minorities and Gay people, for instance, used to be much easier targets than they are now (Though they certainly get way more than their share of persecution.) and so it seems that lately people have decided to go to war over where, precisely, a Trans person is permitted to pee.
When the person looking for a fight is Christian, the impulse usually comes from a certain mindset that can be quite prevalent in North American Christianity. We want to be in the Lord's Army, we want to fight the good fight. To be seen as warriors for the good! Superheroes, powered by faith. It makes for a good sermon, gets people pumped and ready to go, gets money into the offering plate. So we look for someone to fight. And now that the Gay community has won a couple of bouts and people are being made to look like backwards idiots for attacking them, folks are transitioning their more public scorn to the trans community.
Theologically, the Biblical argument against the state of Transgender is even shakier than the one against homosexuality, which was always far more tenuous than people tended to think. At least the argument against homosexuality had some basis, a scripture or two that supported them. While the scriptures have several things to say about how men and women should behave, the genders are never defined. Not once, not remotely, no definition even IMPLIED.
When it comes to the state of Transgender, the scriptures are silent. So if you want a Biblical Crusade against Transgendered people, you're out of luck... all you have to campaign on are your own prejudices, which the Scriptures happen to say A LOT about, oh ye with logs in your eye.
There's another small problem, though, for those seeking targets for their Biblical Campaign against the world. The Bible is pretty clear on the point that our approach towards the world is not meant to be one of conquerors. And it isn't particularly subtle about it.
My favorite example of this is in the Gospels, when the guards come to arrest Jesus. Peter (always a great analogue for the church) pulls a sword and swings it, cutting off the ear of the slave of the High Priest. (So yeah, when Peter decided to be a revolutionary, he attacked the slave. Not, you know, the people with actual power or soldiers. He's a zealot, but he's not stupid.) Jesus gives him a "are you kidding me?" look and tells him, "look, fisherman Bob. If I needed soldiers, I would have soldiers. Legions upon Legions of Angels, remember? Heavenly Host ring a bell? What makes you think I need you swinging a sword for me?" (This is a loose paraphrase.)
If you, as a Christian, truly believe in an all-powerful God, isn't it just a little bit egotistical to believe that the only reason the All-Powerful Creator of Everything hasn't gotten His Way yet is because you haven't yelled at anyone today?
It gets better, though! A great story from the Book of Acts tells how Paul and Silas, two Christians on a world tour, got beaten and thrown into jail for driving a demon from a slave girl. While in prison, God sent an earthquake and, rather than bringing the whole building down on their heads, it opened the doors to their cells and removed their chains.
How is that for a Faith Based Superpower!? Super-precise Earthquakes!
When the Jailer heard of the Earthquake and came and saw the gates open, he prepared to take his own life. (Roman law was particularly harsh on Jailers who lost their prisoners.) He was surprised, however, to hear Paul's voice... still in the cell, with Silas. Amazed that they hadn't escaped, he came and asked them about this God they kept prattling on about... because obviously something was different about them.
To hear it from the average "crusading Christian" that you might encounter on the streets or in social media, Paul should have just taken off, shouting "The Power of Christ, Bitches! That'll show you!" and rode off into the sunset. But instead Paul showed love, and compassion. And curiously it was the love and compassion, not the super Faithquake, that earned to respect and curiosity of the jailer.
We are no good for the world when we are fighting it. Instead we are petty, petulant brats who earn all the vitriol we receive. But when Christians focus, instead, on loving those around them, caring for them and upholding dignity and decency, people start to wonder about us and think that maybe, just maybe, there may be something to all this faith stuff we drivel on about.
So don't bother attacking Trans people on Biblical grounds. You don't have a scriptural leg to stand on, and even if you did, it's not like you've bothered following all of Leviticus, anyway. But more importantly, stop looking for that scriptural fight. God doesn't need your defending, has never needed it. Instead, God has sent you to love, care for, and respect the world he created, and all the people in it.
When you do that, you can really, finally, be an effective messenger of your faith.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
I'm Sorry.
This is something I have said before, in passing, but recent conversations have made it clear to me that it is something that needs to be said, louder.
I am sorry for the ways in which many of my readers have been poorly treated, or even abused, by Christianity.
Now I know I'm not the one who did it, nor one of the ones who stood by and watched while it was done. But I am a Christian, a Christian leader to boot, and so I am a part of the organization that was culpable in what happened to you.
I've spent a fair amount of time over the last couple years, while writing this blog, looking for a better approach to those people than the vox standard "Not All Christians are Like that." We're not, but that's not the point. While I could simply disavow their actions and go about my business, that doesn't change the fact that many people are being hurt by people who claim to share my faith every day, and those victims aren't so lucky. #notallchristians does them no good when Westboro baptist is shouting at their loved ones funeral, or when family drives them out in the name of a supposedly loving God.
If I am serious about being someone who loves others in the name of Christ, and especially if I am serious about being a leader of others who do so, then to simply disavow such actions is an act of laziness, and if I am being honest, privilege.
I have dedicated a lot of my ministry to fighting such behavior, both in education for those who call me pastor and by being a voice standing against those who, I believe, distort my faith in the image of their prejudices.
I believe that those people are wrong, that they abuse the Scriptures and the Church when they use them to harm others. I will do what I can to fight them, and to show them better ways. But no matter how hard I try, or how many people I reach, the problem remains.
Maybe one day they will see the error of their ways, and in an attempt to make amends, share their own apologies. God grant it be so.
But in the meantime, for the part that I play in the organization that has failed, hurt, abused, and murdered so many, I am deeply, deeply sorry. You did not deserve the way you were treated. You are a beautiful person who deserves love and respect, and the group that I am partially responsible for failed to do so.
Part of that is on me, regardless of my actions, and for that part, you have my apologies. I understand if what you suffered means you never want to be one of us, I am not seeking conversions or returns to the church for this post, like always, such is not my intention.
You deserved better, and we failed you.
I am sorry.
I am sorry for the ways in which many of my readers have been poorly treated, or even abused, by Christianity.
Now I know I'm not the one who did it, nor one of the ones who stood by and watched while it was done. But I am a Christian, a Christian leader to boot, and so I am a part of the organization that was culpable in what happened to you.
I've spent a fair amount of time over the last couple years, while writing this blog, looking for a better approach to those people than the vox standard "Not All Christians are Like that." We're not, but that's not the point. While I could simply disavow their actions and go about my business, that doesn't change the fact that many people are being hurt by people who claim to share my faith every day, and those victims aren't so lucky. #notallchristians does them no good when Westboro baptist is shouting at their loved ones funeral, or when family drives them out in the name of a supposedly loving God.
If I am serious about being someone who loves others in the name of Christ, and especially if I am serious about being a leader of others who do so, then to simply disavow such actions is an act of laziness, and if I am being honest, privilege.
I have dedicated a lot of my ministry to fighting such behavior, both in education for those who call me pastor and by being a voice standing against those who, I believe, distort my faith in the image of their prejudices.
I believe that those people are wrong, that they abuse the Scriptures and the Church when they use them to harm others. I will do what I can to fight them, and to show them better ways. But no matter how hard I try, or how many people I reach, the problem remains.
Maybe one day they will see the error of their ways, and in an attempt to make amends, share their own apologies. God grant it be so.
But in the meantime, for the part that I play in the organization that has failed, hurt, abused, and murdered so many, I am deeply, deeply sorry. You did not deserve the way you were treated. You are a beautiful person who deserves love and respect, and the group that I am partially responsible for failed to do so.
Part of that is on me, regardless of my actions, and for that part, you have my apologies. I understand if what you suffered means you never want to be one of us, I am not seeking conversions or returns to the church for this post, like always, such is not my intention.
You deserved better, and we failed you.
I am sorry.
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Super Hero Pastor, DC edition
A few weeks back I did a write up talking about how I would be as a Pastor to various Superheroes, based on the excellent Priest from the Daredevil series. (BTW, I really liked season 2, though it wasn't as good as season 1, with the very limited use of the Priest definitely part of the reason for that.)
I asked folks to request other heroes I could do, and the main request I got was what it would be like to be a Pastor for various DC heroes, so here we go!
Batman: Man, this would be complicated. It's never easy to be the Pastor for a highly established, wealthy family, because there is always the pressure to kowtow to them in order to keep those tithes coming in. The pressure of being Pastor to Bruce Wayne would be enormous, suspecting that there was more to him than the freewheeling Playboy he always presented himself as. Suppose then I, somehow, learn that he is really Batman... what then?
Similar to Matt Murdoch, I think I become a conscience of sorts, aware of what he was doing and open to talking whenever he felt the need. There are a few religiously based villains in his Rogues Gallery, and so it seems pretty obvious that I would get caught up in some of their shenanigans, or possibly just captured and driven mad by Ras al'Ghul.
Even so, I'm pretty sure that if I died or was permanently disabled, the Thomas and Martha Wayne foundations would see to it my family was taken care of, so I'd have that going for me.
Superman: I can easily see Clark Kent as a regular attendant at church, rather busy with his work at the paper but taking part whenever he can and being super helpful on Church cleanup days. Great for heavy lifting! Then, maybe someday I preach a sermon about people being loved by God for who they are and Clark comes to my office and says; "Who is that, exactly?" And tells me that he is Superman.
At first I'm intimidated. I mean, of COURSE I am. Hello, flying Jesus metaphor! Except, I've never really seen him that way, and added to the fact that I undoubtedly know and adore Clark Kent... we start talking about who is he actually is, what makes him happy, what he does and why he does it. We deal with the tragedy of Krypton and his sense of the world weighing on his shoulders. In the end, I think he would be the most normal of all of the folks I talk about here... because while he is Superman, he is really trying just to be a good guy. A lot like Cap, actually.
Wonder Woman: Having trouble picturing Diana attending church, but eh, let's say Ms. Prince primarily does it to keep up appearances. I try to get to know her and start to develop a friendship once she is properly convinced I'm not going to just tell her to join the cleaning rota and do as she's told... but then what?
We're talking about a Character who, like Thor, has walked with beings humanity has called Gods. And so she talks to me. About what? Maybe we just wrestle with philosophy or she just wants me to see the real her. She knows who she is, is confident in it. Would I be confident in me after that conversation? I honestly have no idea.
I'd read the shit out of that comic, though. Or write it, maybe.
Anyone big I should bring up that I haven't yet?
I asked folks to request other heroes I could do, and the main request I got was what it would be like to be a Pastor for various DC heroes, so here we go!
Batman: Man, this would be complicated. It's never easy to be the Pastor for a highly established, wealthy family, because there is always the pressure to kowtow to them in order to keep those tithes coming in. The pressure of being Pastor to Bruce Wayne would be enormous, suspecting that there was more to him than the freewheeling Playboy he always presented himself as. Suppose then I, somehow, learn that he is really Batman... what then?
Similar to Matt Murdoch, I think I become a conscience of sorts, aware of what he was doing and open to talking whenever he felt the need. There are a few religiously based villains in his Rogues Gallery, and so it seems pretty obvious that I would get caught up in some of their shenanigans, or possibly just captured and driven mad by Ras al'Ghul.
Even so, I'm pretty sure that if I died or was permanently disabled, the Thomas and Martha Wayne foundations would see to it my family was taken care of, so I'd have that going for me.
Superman: I can easily see Clark Kent as a regular attendant at church, rather busy with his work at the paper but taking part whenever he can and being super helpful on Church cleanup days. Great for heavy lifting! Then, maybe someday I preach a sermon about people being loved by God for who they are and Clark comes to my office and says; "Who is that, exactly?" And tells me that he is Superman.
At first I'm intimidated. I mean, of COURSE I am. Hello, flying Jesus metaphor! Except, I've never really seen him that way, and added to the fact that I undoubtedly know and adore Clark Kent... we start talking about who is he actually is, what makes him happy, what he does and why he does it. We deal with the tragedy of Krypton and his sense of the world weighing on his shoulders. In the end, I think he would be the most normal of all of the folks I talk about here... because while he is Superman, he is really trying just to be a good guy. A lot like Cap, actually.
Wonder Woman: Having trouble picturing Diana attending church, but eh, let's say Ms. Prince primarily does it to keep up appearances. I try to get to know her and start to develop a friendship once she is properly convinced I'm not going to just tell her to join the cleaning rota and do as she's told... but then what?
We're talking about a Character who, like Thor, has walked with beings humanity has called Gods. And so she talks to me. About what? Maybe we just wrestle with philosophy or she just wants me to see the real her. She knows who she is, is confident in it. Would I be confident in me after that conversation? I honestly have no idea.
I'd read the shit out of that comic, though. Or write it, maybe.
Anyone big I should bring up that I haven't yet?
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Batman V Superman... better than expected.
So I just went to see a movie that I had reliably heard as the latest travesty visited upon the Superhero movie genre by several critics I normally respect. I went to see it expecting to roast it afterwards, and discovered, to my surprise, that I quite enjoyed the film.
Just to get it out of the way at the get go, the movie is very clearly not perfect. It is in the odd place of seeming both too long and rushed... lots of scenes are spliced together with no obvious context, leaving you minutes into a scene wondering "what the hell is going on" before it all gets explained right before the next jump... the movie really needed a primary narrative driving it, and it didn't have one, struggling for most of the run to really be about any cohesive idea beyond "sometimes superheroes frown at things." This made the plot, and especially the evil plan of villain Lex Luthor, very difficult to follow, and some jumps the story made didn't make nearly as much sense without the connective tissue it really needed.
Honestly, the Doomsday storyline needed a movie of its own, giving the opposing ideals of Batman and Superman centerstage would have been enough. But it's not the first movie to get weighed under it's own ambition, and that's not the worst way to fail. Better to strike out swinging for the fences, and all that.
There is also one particularly egregious moment in the movie where material that would have been stingers for three different movies in the MCU gets shoved into a single, VERY flow disturbing scene of Wonder Woman looking at videos on her laptop. Seriously. It was an awkwardly handled, genuine storytelling mistake.
And, of course, I feel that the "don't kill people if you can avoid it" credo for Batman and Superman are hugely important.
But there is a lot the film got right, too. Though the storytelling was often disjointed, each individual scene was beautifully shot, finding beauty in framing and color even in the dark, gritty tones where Batman lived. Few match Zack Snyder in lining up shots that feel like they are ripped from a 90's era comic book and he did that very well here, showing angles and flybys that set the scene of a superhero movie with remarkable grace.
The casting was often effective, as well, and nowhere as obviously as Jeremy Irons as Bruce Wayne's butler, Alfred. He was just a good fit for the role and shined in his sadly limited screen time. Jesse Eisenberg's portrayal of a deeply unbalanced but unequivocally intelligent and tortured Lex Luthor has gotten some hate, but I think the problems are mostly in the character he was made to portray... he played what he was given brilliantly.
It also made me, without reservation, look forward to the Wonder Woman movie. I've talked about the Princess here before, so no need to expound too much, but it is worth pointing out that her teasing in the early going, and final payoff for the big showdown, made me excited. Not only was she clearly able to match Bruce Wayne for intelligence and banter in the early going, her arrival in the big fight showed that she is a match even for a Kryptonian, reflecting a character who would be a legitimate match for a Superman on the battlefield, both supremely confident AND powerful in very limited screentime. So huge kudos on that.
That leads us to the big one. The tone.
Batman V Superman, Dawn of Justice, is not the Avengers, nor any other MCU product. The humor of the MCU was almost entirely absent, as was any sign of joy or levity. There were no scenes where Superman just enjoyed flying around, or where Batman had a moment to bask in just how awesome his gadgets were. Everyone was serious business, all the time, save Luthor, whose attempts at humor only seemed to highlight his madness and one joke about two-thirds of the way through. I can't remember what the joke was or even who told it, but the relief it provided was so great I laughed aloud in the theater.
So I didn't like it as much as any MCU feature I can remember. But as I was driving back from the theater, I considered a very real possibility: that liking Marvel better was more a matter of taste than quality.
Where Marvel has chosen to revel in the fun and color of the Silver Age of Comics, DC seems to have settled itself in the darker, edgier world of the Dark Knight Rises and The Death of Superman. And there are people who prefer that. I am not among them, but that didn't make the movie unenjoyable to me, just not as good. And that really is okay.
My love of the DC Animated Universe made me want to love this with the same joy I had for, say, The Justice League or Young Justice. But well casted, well shot, more cerebral, significantly darker fare has it's place, too. After all, DC has tried matching color and tone with the Green Lantern movie, and that was a trainwreck. With talent like Nolan and Snyder working, maybe this is just what they do better.
Batman V Superman may not be your thing. But I had fun with it, a pleasant surprise after all I had heard. It is a deeply flawed, but beautifully shot story that is attempting to do it's own thing, if in a rather awkward way at times, and can be enjoyed and even appreciated when taken on it's own terms.
It will never be one of my favorites. But as a fan of comic movies who really wanted DC to raise their game (because the MCU release schedule doesn't have me spoiled enough, apparently) I came away enjoying it... even after critics I respect panned it. And I see why they did... the problems just weren't the dealbreakers for me they seemed to be for them.
There is another fascinating aspect of it all, though. The role of atheism in the movie, and the way it manifested in the characters of Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor, drove the bulk of the plot, was FASCINATING.
More on that in another, more spoilery post.
Just to get it out of the way at the get go, the movie is very clearly not perfect. It is in the odd place of seeming both too long and rushed... lots of scenes are spliced together with no obvious context, leaving you minutes into a scene wondering "what the hell is going on" before it all gets explained right before the next jump... the movie really needed a primary narrative driving it, and it didn't have one, struggling for most of the run to really be about any cohesive idea beyond "sometimes superheroes frown at things." This made the plot, and especially the evil plan of villain Lex Luthor, very difficult to follow, and some jumps the story made didn't make nearly as much sense without the connective tissue it really needed.
Honestly, the Doomsday storyline needed a movie of its own, giving the opposing ideals of Batman and Superman centerstage would have been enough. But it's not the first movie to get weighed under it's own ambition, and that's not the worst way to fail. Better to strike out swinging for the fences, and all that.
There is also one particularly egregious moment in the movie where material that would have been stingers for three different movies in the MCU gets shoved into a single, VERY flow disturbing scene of Wonder Woman looking at videos on her laptop. Seriously. It was an awkwardly handled, genuine storytelling mistake.
And, of course, I feel that the "don't kill people if you can avoid it" credo for Batman and Superman are hugely important.
But there is a lot the film got right, too. Though the storytelling was often disjointed, each individual scene was beautifully shot, finding beauty in framing and color even in the dark, gritty tones where Batman lived. Few match Zack Snyder in lining up shots that feel like they are ripped from a 90's era comic book and he did that very well here, showing angles and flybys that set the scene of a superhero movie with remarkable grace.
The casting was often effective, as well, and nowhere as obviously as Jeremy Irons as Bruce Wayne's butler, Alfred. He was just a good fit for the role and shined in his sadly limited screen time. Jesse Eisenberg's portrayal of a deeply unbalanced but unequivocally intelligent and tortured Lex Luthor has gotten some hate, but I think the problems are mostly in the character he was made to portray... he played what he was given brilliantly.
It also made me, without reservation, look forward to the Wonder Woman movie. I've talked about the Princess here before, so no need to expound too much, but it is worth pointing out that her teasing in the early going, and final payoff for the big showdown, made me excited. Not only was she clearly able to match Bruce Wayne for intelligence and banter in the early going, her arrival in the big fight showed that she is a match even for a Kryptonian, reflecting a character who would be a legitimate match for a Superman on the battlefield, both supremely confident AND powerful in very limited screentime. So huge kudos on that.
That leads us to the big one. The tone.
Batman V Superman, Dawn of Justice, is not the Avengers, nor any other MCU product. The humor of the MCU was almost entirely absent, as was any sign of joy or levity. There were no scenes where Superman just enjoyed flying around, or where Batman had a moment to bask in just how awesome his gadgets were. Everyone was serious business, all the time, save Luthor, whose attempts at humor only seemed to highlight his madness and one joke about two-thirds of the way through. I can't remember what the joke was or even who told it, but the relief it provided was so great I laughed aloud in the theater.
So I didn't like it as much as any MCU feature I can remember. But as I was driving back from the theater, I considered a very real possibility: that liking Marvel better was more a matter of taste than quality.
Where Marvel has chosen to revel in the fun and color of the Silver Age of Comics, DC seems to have settled itself in the darker, edgier world of the Dark Knight Rises and The Death of Superman. And there are people who prefer that. I am not among them, but that didn't make the movie unenjoyable to me, just not as good. And that really is okay.
My love of the DC Animated Universe made me want to love this with the same joy I had for, say, The Justice League or Young Justice. But well casted, well shot, more cerebral, significantly darker fare has it's place, too. After all, DC has tried matching color and tone with the Green Lantern movie, and that was a trainwreck. With talent like Nolan and Snyder working, maybe this is just what they do better.
Batman V Superman may not be your thing. But I had fun with it, a pleasant surprise after all I had heard. It is a deeply flawed, but beautifully shot story that is attempting to do it's own thing, if in a rather awkward way at times, and can be enjoyed and even appreciated when taken on it's own terms.
It will never be one of my favorites. But as a fan of comic movies who really wanted DC to raise their game (because the MCU release schedule doesn't have me spoiled enough, apparently) I came away enjoying it... even after critics I respect panned it. And I see why they did... the problems just weren't the dealbreakers for me they seemed to be for them.
There is another fascinating aspect of it all, though. The role of atheism in the movie, and the way it manifested in the characters of Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor, drove the bulk of the plot, was FASCINATING.
More on that in another, more spoilery post.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Saturday Ramble: Super Hero Pastor
So it is, as of two minutes ago, Holy Saturday. I'm right at the tail end of Holy Week, with just an Easter service between me and the end of one of the most exhausting seasons of church life. I wanted to get in a blog post but just couldn't bring myself to think theologically about anything else right now, so instead, I am going to focus on what it would be like to be the pastor to Super Heroes.
Because those questions need ANSWERING, darn it.
I am currently not watching the second season of Daredevil because I will be seeing my family after Easter and they wanted us all to start it together for... reasons, I suppose. I adored Daredevil, as I have stated previously on this very blog, but one of things I really loved about it was the Priest that Murdoch confided in.
So here's the thing about pastors in media. If we aren't evil, then we're either magic or incompetent. Do we know the sacred words from some ancient text to drive out the menacing evil? Or do we just hang around as walking anachronisms, not understanding (and not really expected to understand) anything about the world around us? Those often seem to be our options.
The Priest in Daredevil (Father Lantom) is none of those things. He doesn't have magical solutions for Murdoch, neither does he just sit there unaware of who Murdoch is. Instead, he cares, he listens, he advises as he is able and tells the truth. He basically is everything I would want to be as a Pastor if I discovered I had a Superhero in my congregation.
But that, of course, got me thinking of what I would do for various Superheroes in my congregation, and what I thought my own personal consequences would be as a minor player in a comic story. So here we go:
Captain America: No secret identity at play here, I would have Steve Rogers come into my church with me knowing completely who he is and wondering how to help. I think I would be partially overwhelmed by him... how do you help someone like him who is lost in time? To help out, I think I would largely just be an ear to hear his stories and encourage him to take part in different social events, primarily to help him make friends and colleagues. When he was ready, we would talk about grief.
Cap himself is rarely a direct target of nefarious schemes, so I doubt I would get personally drawn into his stories, unless I made enough of a stink when SHIELD declared him a Fugitive in Winter Soldier.
Iron Man: I am having trouble seriously imagining Tony Stark attending church, but maybe Jarvis/Vision would point him my way after reading this blog, or he loses a bet with Steve. In any case, I would resist the urge to preach primarily on tithing and talk to Tony about guilt, when it helps, and when it needs to be let go.
I doubt I would survive my time as a Iron Man spin-off. Talking with him about evading guilt, my church would inevitably be attacked by a Power Armored Super Villain looking to take Tony down, and I would get killed protecting him while hijinks ensued around him getting into his armor. Luckily for my family, it's a fair bet Stark puts my child through college after that, so I'll call it a win.
Thor: Man, how complex would that be? I'd probably have some long conversations with him about what he was aware of going on in Palestine for huge chunks of history, but if he came to me for counseling, I suspect it would be in the form of wanting help with his relationship with Jane Foster, and what love means between two people with lives so complexly varied. I'd get to tell him to use his words, and to remember that no time is promised, and so to enjoy the time he has.
A Prince of Asgard in a Midgardian house of worship, and NOT a House of Worship for an Asgardian? THAT would come up, and I would probably end up captured and tortured by some offended Asgardian official influenced by Loki until Thor showed up explain/save me. But hey, probably a trip through the Bifrost, right? That would be cool. Maybe I'd chat with Heimdal afterwards if I survived. (If we were REALLY lucky, it would involve someone in full Asgardian Armor asking me Where My God Was Now, waiting for his challenge to be accepted.)
Nightcrawler/Any of the X-men: Likely approached initially for my equality stances, my church would welcome Mutants and I would have fascinating conversations with Nightcrawler as he further explored his faith through Biblical imagery, while constantly reminding him that the Image of God is not a visual thing, but a spiritual one.
I probably go down by a bullet from a mutant hater in this scenario (or maybe Wade Wilson because why not) but maybe I would eventually be revealed to be a low-level mutant myself, with my struggle not being welcoming the mutants who come to my church, but welcoming the humans, until Kurt finally convinces me to "come out."
Spiderman: I can imagine a teen-aged Peter Parker in my Youth Group or confirmation class, realize what he is doing and working with him as he struggles with concepts of responsibility, all the way up to the point where I die for being a trusted figure who isn't Aunt May. If this seems short, it's because it wouldn't take all that long.
Got any other heroes you want me to run the evaluation on? Toss me a question or comment, and I'll do another one of these after I've watched the second season of Daredevil!
Because those questions need ANSWERING, darn it.
I am currently not watching the second season of Daredevil because I will be seeing my family after Easter and they wanted us all to start it together for... reasons, I suppose. I adored Daredevil, as I have stated previously on this very blog, but one of things I really loved about it was the Priest that Murdoch confided in.
So here's the thing about pastors in media. If we aren't evil, then we're either magic or incompetent. Do we know the sacred words from some ancient text to drive out the menacing evil? Or do we just hang around as walking anachronisms, not understanding (and not really expected to understand) anything about the world around us? Those often seem to be our options.
The Priest in Daredevil (Father Lantom) is none of those things. He doesn't have magical solutions for Murdoch, neither does he just sit there unaware of who Murdoch is. Instead, he cares, he listens, he advises as he is able and tells the truth. He basically is everything I would want to be as a Pastor if I discovered I had a Superhero in my congregation.
But that, of course, got me thinking of what I would do for various Superheroes in my congregation, and what I thought my own personal consequences would be as a minor player in a comic story. So here we go:
Captain America: No secret identity at play here, I would have Steve Rogers come into my church with me knowing completely who he is and wondering how to help. I think I would be partially overwhelmed by him... how do you help someone like him who is lost in time? To help out, I think I would largely just be an ear to hear his stories and encourage him to take part in different social events, primarily to help him make friends and colleagues. When he was ready, we would talk about grief.
Cap himself is rarely a direct target of nefarious schemes, so I doubt I would get personally drawn into his stories, unless I made enough of a stink when SHIELD declared him a Fugitive in Winter Soldier.
Iron Man: I am having trouble seriously imagining Tony Stark attending church, but maybe Jarvis/Vision would point him my way after reading this blog, or he loses a bet with Steve. In any case, I would resist the urge to preach primarily on tithing and talk to Tony about guilt, when it helps, and when it needs to be let go.
I doubt I would survive my time as a Iron Man spin-off. Talking with him about evading guilt, my church would inevitably be attacked by a Power Armored Super Villain looking to take Tony down, and I would get killed protecting him while hijinks ensued around him getting into his armor. Luckily for my family, it's a fair bet Stark puts my child through college after that, so I'll call it a win.
Thor: Man, how complex would that be? I'd probably have some long conversations with him about what he was aware of going on in Palestine for huge chunks of history, but if he came to me for counseling, I suspect it would be in the form of wanting help with his relationship with Jane Foster, and what love means between two people with lives so complexly varied. I'd get to tell him to use his words, and to remember that no time is promised, and so to enjoy the time he has.
A Prince of Asgard in a Midgardian house of worship, and NOT a House of Worship for an Asgardian? THAT would come up, and I would probably end up captured and tortured by some offended Asgardian official influenced by Loki until Thor showed up explain/save me. But hey, probably a trip through the Bifrost, right? That would be cool. Maybe I'd chat with Heimdal afterwards if I survived. (If we were REALLY lucky, it would involve someone in full Asgardian Armor asking me Where My God Was Now, waiting for his challenge to be accepted.)
Nightcrawler/Any of the X-men: Likely approached initially for my equality stances, my church would welcome Mutants and I would have fascinating conversations with Nightcrawler as he further explored his faith through Biblical imagery, while constantly reminding him that the Image of God is not a visual thing, but a spiritual one.
I probably go down by a bullet from a mutant hater in this scenario (or maybe Wade Wilson because why not) but maybe I would eventually be revealed to be a low-level mutant myself, with my struggle not being welcoming the mutants who come to my church, but welcoming the humans, until Kurt finally convinces me to "come out."
Spiderman: I can imagine a teen-aged Peter Parker in my Youth Group or confirmation class, realize what he is doing and working with him as he struggles with concepts of responsibility, all the way up to the point where I die for being a trusted figure who isn't Aunt May. If this seems short, it's because it wouldn't take all that long.
Got any other heroes you want me to run the evaluation on? Toss me a question or comment, and I'll do another one of these after I've watched the second season of Daredevil!
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
An Open Letter to the Christian Parents of my Atheists
Hi there, I'm Pastor Dan.
And I really am a Pastor, ordained by the Presbyterian Church, USA after getting my Masters of Divinity and more than 15 years of intense scriptural study, alongside a lifetime of growing up the son of a highly talented minister.
You're probably reading this because it got forwarded to you by someone you care a lot about, and someone you worry about because, you know, they're your child. And they've made some decisions about their lives that you aren't too sure about, especially when it comes to their faith life.
It may even surprise you to see them sending a link to a Pastor's Blog, after some conversations you've had with them. They read this, and knew about me, probably because at some time in the past they had a question about faith and religion and I was available to talk, and they liked what I said enough to keep reading, and keep asking more questions.
And now they've read this, and sent it to you.
I get a great deal of messages from atheists all over the world who are having difficulty with their faithful families, and I understand the difficulty. You love them, you want the best for them, and you believe that "the best for them" includes a rich faith life. You want them to know Jesus the way you do, and you worry about the consequences if they don't.
This has likely led to tension. Arguments, hurtful comments, from you to them and vice versa, because you're human, you're passionate, and you're scared. That can lead to words being said that are hard to unsay and impossible to unhear. Maybe it has led to awkward silences at family get-togethers, or even a lack of get-togethers.
And so, again, it might be surprising that they are reading a Pastor's Blog.
I have a large number of atheist readers and correspondents, and I believe the reason they have chosen to entrust me with their questions and concerns about faith is because I let them come to me. I have promised never to directly evangelize, instead to listen, to advise, and to pray as requested, never more.
The first thing I want to assure you is that I exist, and by virtue of you seeing this open letter, you now know that there is a person of faith out there who your loved one, your child, knows that they can talk to if they need a person of faith to talk to. They know how to reach me and I'm nearly always on call. I promise I will never judge them, or take advantage of them by calling for money or attempting to "steal" them for my church. That's just not what I am about.
The second thing I want to urge you to do is to trust God when it comes to your loved one. You believe in a loving, powerful God who cares for the ones he loves, which regardless of your personal theology I assume at least includes you, and so will care for those you care about as a result.
Finally, the last thing I want to urge you to do is to give your loved one room in matters of faith. The fact that they care at all about what I say means they are at least asking questions and listening, so don't feel the need to press them. Paul felt the need to exhort his listeners twice (In epistles to the Ephesians and the Colossians) on the subject of warning parents not to exasperate or embitter their children.
You don't need to be their pastor, and your time as their disciplinarian has passed. But you can be their parent, modeling the love for them that God showed you by welcoming them home, not with a checklist of stuff they need to achieve or say, but with a hug and a smile, like the Father welcoming the Prodigal son home.
All that is achieved by harassing and nagging them about the faith is driving them further from it and from you, and that helps no one. Instead, focus on loving and caring for them, being there for them when they need you and only discussing faith with them when they asked. You might be surprised just how effective that can be. You do your part, I'll do mine, and between us we will count on God to handle everything.
For now, they don't believe. Maybe that will change in our lifetime, maybe not. But the one thing that never changes is our call to love them for who they are. And partly thanks to you, who they are is pretty darn great.
In Christ,
Pastor Dan McCurdy
And I really am a Pastor, ordained by the Presbyterian Church, USA after getting my Masters of Divinity and more than 15 years of intense scriptural study, alongside a lifetime of growing up the son of a highly talented minister.
You're probably reading this because it got forwarded to you by someone you care a lot about, and someone you worry about because, you know, they're your child. And they've made some decisions about their lives that you aren't too sure about, especially when it comes to their faith life.
It may even surprise you to see them sending a link to a Pastor's Blog, after some conversations you've had with them. They read this, and knew about me, probably because at some time in the past they had a question about faith and religion and I was available to talk, and they liked what I said enough to keep reading, and keep asking more questions.
And now they've read this, and sent it to you.
I get a great deal of messages from atheists all over the world who are having difficulty with their faithful families, and I understand the difficulty. You love them, you want the best for them, and you believe that "the best for them" includes a rich faith life. You want them to know Jesus the way you do, and you worry about the consequences if they don't.
This has likely led to tension. Arguments, hurtful comments, from you to them and vice versa, because you're human, you're passionate, and you're scared. That can lead to words being said that are hard to unsay and impossible to unhear. Maybe it has led to awkward silences at family get-togethers, or even a lack of get-togethers.
And so, again, it might be surprising that they are reading a Pastor's Blog.
I have a large number of atheist readers and correspondents, and I believe the reason they have chosen to entrust me with their questions and concerns about faith is because I let them come to me. I have promised never to directly evangelize, instead to listen, to advise, and to pray as requested, never more.
The first thing I want to assure you is that I exist, and by virtue of you seeing this open letter, you now know that there is a person of faith out there who your loved one, your child, knows that they can talk to if they need a person of faith to talk to. They know how to reach me and I'm nearly always on call. I promise I will never judge them, or take advantage of them by calling for money or attempting to "steal" them for my church. That's just not what I am about.
The second thing I want to urge you to do is to trust God when it comes to your loved one. You believe in a loving, powerful God who cares for the ones he loves, which regardless of your personal theology I assume at least includes you, and so will care for those you care about as a result.
Finally, the last thing I want to urge you to do is to give your loved one room in matters of faith. The fact that they care at all about what I say means they are at least asking questions and listening, so don't feel the need to press them. Paul felt the need to exhort his listeners twice (In epistles to the Ephesians and the Colossians) on the subject of warning parents not to exasperate or embitter their children.
You don't need to be their pastor, and your time as their disciplinarian has passed. But you can be their parent, modeling the love for them that God showed you by welcoming them home, not with a checklist of stuff they need to achieve or say, but with a hug and a smile, like the Father welcoming the Prodigal son home.
All that is achieved by harassing and nagging them about the faith is driving them further from it and from you, and that helps no one. Instead, focus on loving and caring for them, being there for them when they need you and only discussing faith with them when they asked. You might be surprised just how effective that can be. You do your part, I'll do mine, and between us we will count on God to handle everything.
For now, they don't believe. Maybe that will change in our lifetime, maybe not. But the one thing that never changes is our call to love them for who they are. And partly thanks to you, who they are is pretty darn great.
In Christ,
Pastor Dan McCurdy
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