my little corner

I’m not a preacher. But, just the same, I was asked to bring a short message for an Easter sunrise (ok, earlier-in-the-morning-but-not-quite-sunrise) service. Reposting it here because it’s relevant to a discussion I’m having with someone; also because I meant to but just hadn’t gotten around to it. But, hey, it’s still the Easter season, so it’s not even out-of-date!

There have been a couple big things I’ve been pondering these past few weeks, and then I ran across an article that tied them together in my mind and tied them to Easter.

The first is that I was asked to play Jesus in an Easter musical. The tryout process went something like this: “Hey, you have a beard; will you do it?” It caused me to wonder what Jesus really looked like; I doubt he was Anglo-American with a beard and long (but not hippie-long) hair, always wearing a white robe. I sometimes wonder if Jesus, who knew of these images ahead of time, refused to ever wear white. Chances are that he looked more like people who we, at a glance, tend to look at twice, wondering if they’re a terrorist.

Why, then, has this become the ubiquitous “picture” of Jesus? Well, I’m sure it’s the combination of several hundred years of artists’ depictions, many full of rich symbolism (for example, the white robe to speak of Jesus’ purity). But surely artists would’ve known that Jesus wasn’t born in Europe or America, right? Do you think that one possible reason might be that we like for Jesus to look like us?

The second was the circus of activity around the Trayvon Martin shooting. Regardless of what exactly happened that day (and we don’t know), the reaction we’ve seen shows that there is still an ugly tendency to stereotype and assume the worst about people who don’t look like us. Some were quick to call racism and condemn the shooter. Others were quick to defend. Pictures of innocent-looking boys and “thugs” were circulated. As the story continued to be hyped, things got much uglier and much darker.

So, with those things in mind, I ran across an article about the Martin story. It discussed the story and made some observations about our natural tendancy to favor people who are like us, then came around to this:

“Consider the significance of the second commandment: ‘You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below.’ … Neil Postman … conjectures that the commandment was given because a people who are being asked to embrace an abstract, universal deity would be rendered unfit to do so by the habit of drawing pictures or making statues or depicting their ideas in any concrete, iconographic forms. The God of the Jews was to exist in the Word and through the Word, an unprecedented conception requiring the highest order of abstract thinking.”

Think about that: “The God of the Jews was to exist in the Word and through the Word.” In our day and age, more than ever, it is difficult to imagine this. Every news story has a picture, if not video. Advertisements, Facebook, entertainment. Everything, it seems, needs a picture.

So, then, is that how God expects us to relate to Him? Through just words? How can He possibly compete with the cacophony of images we see? No, God wasn’t done yet. Let’s look in John chapter 1. We’ll read the whole passage, to see it in context, but pay special attention to phrases that mention the Word.

“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 were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

“There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.

“The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John bore witness about him, and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks before me, because he was before me.’”) For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known.”

Imagine what this would mean to a Jew at the time. After spending your life anticipating the promise, now the Word has become flesh. No longer abstract, but here, living among us.

But what of us now? Jesus isn’t our next-door neighbor. Is the artist’s depiction the best we have? No, not by a long shot. Jesus left us something far better. In fact, we pick up the thread back in the second commandment.

“You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments.”

Why would we worship a carved image of God, when we can worship an active, loving God. Not a romantic-comedy love, but true, steadfast love—love that cares enough to bring correction when it’s needed. But wait, there’s more. Just when you thought I wouldn’t make it around to Easter after all. Let’s look at John 15. Here Jesus is talking of Himself as the true vine, we’ll pick it up in verse 9.

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.”

Jesus came to leave us the only perfect example of love the world has ever seen. That’s the Easter story—true love. Jesus, the sinless Son of God, wrapped Himself in flesh like us, then allowed that flesh to be broken for us on the cross. But, lest it be said that death and hell could triumph over God’s love, Jesus rose again, victorious over the grave.

So, then, what is the image of Jesus to the world? No, not a bearded, long-haired white man. The best way for someone to see Jesus is for those who trust Him to truly love them. I’ll close with the words of I John 4: 7-12:

“Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.”

I read Blue Like Jazz a few years ago. To be honest, I don’t remember too many specifics about the book—a few of the people (especially the ones with memorable names like Tony the Beat Poet and the swearing pastor), a couple events. When I finished the book, I remember thinking, “This is an important book.” In the years since, I’ve noticed changes in my thinking which I can trace back to having read the book. So last night, when I was privileged to go to a preview screening of Blue Like Jazz: The Movie, I was pleased to find that my reaction to the movie matched my reaction to the book. In that sense, the movie is true to the book.

If you’ve read the book, though, you’ll know that it’s difficult at first to imagine Blue Like Jazz the book being made into a movie. The answer for “how” is that the movie is a highly fictionalized account of Bible-belt Baptist Don Miller’s time at Reed College in Portland, OR, which has been called, “the most godless campus in America.” It tells the story Don’s journey from going “underground” with his faith, to abandoning it entirely, to being drawn back toward Christ primarily through the example and influence of activist fellow student Penny.

If there’s anything—and I’m not convinced there is—the movie goes overboard on, it’s presenting churches and churchy people in their worst possible light. From the cringe-inducing piñata scene, references to priests sexually abusing young boys, adultery among church leadership, rampant hypocrisy, and the requisite clichéd references to the Crusades, the church and Christianity are presented much the same way as they are presented on the evening news. Don’s confessional then, becomes all the more powerful with all that baggage. Moviegoers expecting to see Christians and the church portrayed as pristine people will be somewhere between disappointed and upset; I’d argue, though, that people expecting Christians and the church to be pristine will be disappointed and upset as well. As Don Miller said in the Q&A after the screening, “God doesn’t have any problem presenting us as depraved; why should we?” Finally, some important balances are in place—note the pastor’s expression in the aforementioned piñata scene, Don’s statement regarding child support, the priest and the little girl.

Unlike so many, BLJ moves effortlessly among comedy, drama, and thought-provoking. Characters are complicated enough to feel real, not so complicated as to feel contrived. Bottom line, it’s a good story; realistic enough to be believable and unrealistic enough to be interesting.It’s an excellent film, and I’d highly recommend it to believers and unbelievers alike. You should be prepared to see it more than once (I’m sure Steve and Don would add, “opening weekend”), I’m a little frustrated that I have to wait another month to see it again.

Is it a Christian film?

This question will invariably be asked—and rightly so. Part of what makes the film so interesting is that it narrowly walks and intentionally blurs the line between the “Christian” and “secular” film. And, of course, whether or not it’s a “Christian” film will depend on how you define the term. If you mean that the movie is written by Christians for Christians to make Christians feel good about being Christians, no, it’s absolutely not. I’ll make my case, though, for why it is (1) a Christian film and (2) helpful for the Kindgom. And while I’m making up definitions, I should clarify that when I refer to “the church,” I’m talking about what we see of churches today, not either a specific local church or the true, universal church.

The following evidences are why I would define it as Christian:

• It was written and produced by Christians
• The resolution involves the protagonist (Don) coming back toward faith in Christ
• The deuteragonist* (Penny) is a sincere Christian, and the primary reason for his change
• The film is being promoted heavily to pastors and Christian influencers

* Yes, of COURSE I knew that word all along. I most certainly did NOT look at Wikipedia to find what the term was.

At first, it could be difficult to see how this can be helpful for the Kingdom. It does, after all, portray the church negatively. I see this as “tough love.” The current state of the church needs a bit of tearing down so it can be built up stronger. Movies, music, preaching, even 24-hour news channels that attempt to present or defend the church as being pristine can lull Christians into thinking, “I’m OK,” and further the perception that Christians are just a bunch of hypocrites. This movie says, “Yes, we have been hypocrites. That’s why we need Christ.”

Content

Many Christians, too, will be concerned about the film’s content. It’s rated PG-13 because it contains some langauge (a***, s***, etc., and half of an f-bomb); talk and depiction of alcohol and drug use; talk of sex, adultery, condoms, and the like. Nothing was explicit or inserted for shock value. Spend some time hanging around the halls of any area high school or college (you might have to listen for the whispers if it’s a Christian high school or college) and you’ll see and hear worse. If you’re particularly sensitive to any of the above, though, you should be aware of that.

Every time—and it happens often—I’m called a liar for saying that I’ve never had a fight with my wife, it makes it hard for me to listen to what is otherwise probably a good message. I could call out a specific preacher, but honestly, I’ve heard the same thing from enough sources that I don’t think I need to. Here’s how it usually goes:

{humorous statement about arguing/fighting couples}

Every husband and wife fights. If you say you don’t have fights, you’re either stupid or a liar.

{laughter}

What you need to do, though, is to learn to fight well.

{rest of the message about resolving conflict properly instead of fighting}

“What are you, some kind of idiot?”

Perhaps—but in this case, I don’t think so. I’m not so naive as to believe that my marriage—or any marriage—is without disagreements. Neither my wife nor I are passive, roll-over-to-avoid-conflict type of people. What we did, though, was to listen to some excellent counsel from good teachers and observe some excellent examples; early on we intentionally developed patterns to resolve conflict together, and now it’s not a struggle.

I don’t say this as though it’s anything I’ve done; I have benefited from the Spirit’s work in my life, from excellent teaching, and from good examples. I am truly thankful for this wonderful gift.

In other words, we’re practicing what you’re preaching. We’re resolving conflict instead of fighting. Or, to put it in the terms you’re using, we’re “fighting well.”

“C’mon, that’s just semantics.”

Okay. I’ll admit that. But I think they are important semantics. Let’s look at a dictionary definition of a fight.

fight, n.

1. 1. The action of fighting. Now only arch. in phrase (valiant, etc.) in fight . in fight: engaged in battle.
   2. In obvious phrases: to fang, take (the) fight , to give fight , to make (a) fight .
   3. Method of fighting. Obs.
2. A combat, battle.
   1. A hostile encounter or engagement between opposing forces
   2. A combat between two or more persons or animals. Not now usually applied (exc. rhetorically) to a formal duel, but suggesting primarily either the notion of a brawl or unpremeditated encounter, or that of a pugilistic combat.
   3. With various qualifying attributes. sham fight: a mimic battle (intended to exercise or test the troops engaged, or simply for display). single fight: a duel. stand-up fight: one in which the combatants ‘stand up’ manfully to each other.
   4. fight-off, a contest to decide a tie in a fencing match.
   5. fight-back n. a retaliation, rally, or recovery
3. fig. Strife, conflict, struggle for victory
4. Power, strength or inclination for fighting; pugnacity. Also in to show fight.
5. 1. A kind of screen used during a naval engagement to conceal and protect the crew of the vessel. Usually in pl. Obs. See also close-fight n.
   2. foremost fight n. nonce-use a breastwork on a rampart; = forefight n. Latin propugnaculum.
6. A division of an army in battle array.

Those aren’t qualities I’m eager to apply to any conversations I have with my wife. In fact, I’ve made a pointed effort to avoid that kind of confrontation.

“But the rest of the message was so good.”

Yes, exactly! That’s why it’s so frustrating for me. It’s somewhere between bizarre and absurd for me to hear an excellent sermon about conflict resolution, but have it called “fighting.” After one of these messages (it was part of an excellent marriage conference), I asked the speaker for his working definition of a “fight,” and his response was essentially, a disagreement with or without verbal/physical abuse. So, why call it a fight then?

I would suggest that the reason is that it (1) sounds edgier so it catches more attention and (2) puts people at ease with the current state of their marriage so they don’t “tune out” the rest of the message.

“So what’s the big deal, then? Why not?”

1. The second reason above is my first reason against using “fight” terminology. Lulling people to sleep about their unhealthy and sinful practices is not the best way to convince them to change. It is beneficial to strike a contrast between the good and bad way to resolve conflict.
2. The word “fight” has a connotation in our society; if it didn’t, speakers wouldn’t choose it. The connotation is not one of love and working together, it’s adversarial and divisive.
3. It alienates those who are genuinely trying to do what’s right when you call them a liar.

I would suggest a couple of alternate terms that will be widely understood and would be more broadly applicable and true to the spirit of the message. I’m sure there are plenty of other alternatives as well.

“disagreement” vs. “fight”
A disagreement is just that, when two points of view are not the same. It applies both to the over/under toilet paper dispute (the correct answer is “under”) or to a violent, physical fight.

“conflict resolution” vs. “fighting well”
The action word in each of those terms is what makes the difference. “Fighting well” is still fighting. In the term “conflict resolution,” the emphasis is on resolving the conflict—facing it, and working through it.