Film

January 27, 2008

Rambo - A message to the church?

Rambo's back on the screen after a near 20 year absence. This time, Rambo's on a rescue mission to save a group of missionaries taken prisoner in hostile Burma.

I'm sure to a lot of church folk, Rambo's just another rated R bloodfest to be boycotted, but the story of this 4th Rambo movie is one the church needs to sit up and note. I caught an interview with Stallone on TV today where he discussed the origins of the film. He intentionally avoided the hot button locations of Iraq and Afghanistan, preferring to set his story in a part of the world that doesn't get much attention. He began to learn about the situation in Burma, where religious persecution is among the worst in the world, and he marveled that no one was talking about it. Bringing this story to the fore was a major part of making the film.

The missionaries in the movie have Rambo to come to their aid. In real life, however, there's no super soldier available to rescue the Christians being martyred in Burma and other places. Few Christians know such persecution exists in our modern world of cell phones and the Internet, and even fewer care enough to pray, talk, or do something about it.

How shameful it is that we leave our brothers and sisters to the wolves.

Don't dismiss this as just another commentary on a movie from a Christian POV. Go to www.persecution.com and learn more from the Voice of the Martyrs, a ministry dedicated to making the story of these forgotten believers heard.

Pray, talk, DO something.

January 26, 2008

The Liberation of Padme Amidala

It had to happen. Unless Padme Amidala falls in love with young Anakin Skywalker, there would be no hope for the galaxy. No mother for Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, who would grow in the images of their parents into a Jedi knight and a royal heroine and defeat their father and his evil master. That said, it is easy to dismiss Padme's revelation of love before the arena battle on Geonosis as merely another plot point in the Star Wars saga. However, the circumstances in which that confession took place, coupled with observations of Padme and Anakin's relationships dating back to their first meeting, reveal that this was more than just a plot point. It is one of the highest moments of emotion and meaning in the entire story. More than that, it is one of the most powerful professions of love in the entire sweep of modern film.

From the beginning of The Phantom Menace we know Padme as a confident, thoughtful, and bold leader. She was trained early on in the ways of diplomacy and government, which is why she is entrusted with queenship at such an early age. Padme is not swayed by the violent means of her foes in the trade federation. Even when captured, Padme refuses surrender. She seeks the diplomatic solution to free her people and, failing there, returns home to lead them in a battle for their liberation.

Padme's strength only grows with the passing of time. When we see her in Attack of the Clones, she is not only a Senator, but a leader in a cause for peace. This young woman is powerful enough that her enemies are now plotting her assassination. Yet Padme stays true to her beliefs. She remains strong and brave. She, not Anakin, decides the two will travel to Geonosis to rescue Obi Wan Kenobi. It is she, and not the Jedi, who first takes evasive action in the arena battle on Geonosis, picking her cuffs and seeking higher ground from which to fight. And even when temporarily knocked out of the fight, she rushes back into battle at the first opportunity.

Padme certainly exudes self-confidence, as well as an independent spirit. She objects to the protection offered her from the Jedi in Attack if the Clones, and protests when the Chancellor orders her to flee as a refugee to her home planet of Naboo. She is in many ways the modern woman, confident and bold enough to pursue her own course and not wishing the assistance of others.

But is this truly how Padme is at her core? Just as we found Padme to be brave and resilient, we find she is a woman who wears masks. On Naboo she wore the proud, strong facade of Queen. When in danger, she uses decoys to protect herself, taking on herself the role of the serving girl. What exactly does she have to hide?

Certainly her training and experience as a politician has taught her to show her strengths while hiding her weaknesses. What weakness does she hide? What does she fear that she would guard herself so tight from the rest of the world?

To discover this secret we need only look to the one person with the power to pierce the veil into her true self: Anakin. From the moment of their meeting in Watto's shop, Padme is helpless before him. His simple inquiry, "Are you an angel?" catches her off-guard, provoking one of the rare smiles she displays in the story.

Anakin is Padme's opposite when it comes to emotions. While she has learned to hide weakness and fear, Anakin wears every feeling on his sleeve. His honesty warms her heart. She feels for him when he misses his mother en route to Coruscant. And even under the heavy makeup and dressings of the queen before her appearance in the Senate, her eyes betray compassion when Anakin comes to bid Padme farewell.

Ten years later, the two are reunited when Anakin and Obi Wan Kenobi are assigned to protect her. Anakin has never forgotten Padme, and his feelings have only grown with time. He is nervous and excited to see her, as evidenced by his missteps and awkwardness. He is hurt, however, by Padme's reaction to him, even calling him that little boy she met on Tatooine. He feels she doesn't even remember him.

This is clearly not the case. As time passes and the two begin to know each other again, it is obvious she is afraid of something. The first kiss comes so naturally to them both, but she breaks it off with a simple, "No." For the first time, Padme is trying to wear her facade with the young Jedi, driving him to try harder to gain her affection.

Padme's fear and discomfort grow to a high point one evening in a fire-lit room, as Anakin bears his soul and feelings to her. She listens patiently, a turmoil of emotions swelling within her as she listens to his words. As if she feels her will slipping, she takes command of the situation, reminding Anakin of their status in life. She is a politician. He is a Jedi. Logic dictates that the two can never be together in love. Her reason combats his emotional longing.

And yet we know now that Padme does have feelings that run deep. She never denies her feelings for Anakin. And what's more, her argument makes it clear that she has already thought through the consequences of romance.

An irony arises when Anakin proposes the two could keep their love a secret. "We'd be living a lie," said Padme, something she insists she cannot do. And yet isn't her whole persona of the independent, unattached Senator a lie? Isn't denying her love for Anakin living a lie? Why would she choose that lie over another?

As C.S. Lewis pointed out in The Problem of Pain, anyone who chooses to love, also chooses suffering. The two are inseparable within the human realm. When a person opens themselves up to love another, they open the door to hurt. For no one can wound you more deeply or painfully that someone you love. The only way to avoid suffering completely would be to keep one's self from ever falling in love. But to do that would in itself be a form of suffering.

Padme is afraid of to be hurt. She believes that showing pain or hurt is showing weakness, which the politician in her cannot afford to show. Though her love for Anakin is undeniable by the time Anakin bears his soul by the fireplace, she insists on wearing the mask of strength. In effect she is saying, "I do not need you. I am strong enough to be on my own."

Yet beneath her strong facade and bravery is a vulnerable woman, longing to be loved and protected. Deep down she wants the hero, the dashing knight, in her life. Anakin's strength and passion allows her to be everything her career denies her: vulnerable, fragile, weak, afraid. It offers her a strength and a passionate love in which to envelop herself. And though the political leader rejects such a notion out of hand, the woman within cries out for it.

Padme's profession of love comes at a moment when Padme is faced with something far more frightening than love: death. Sentenced to die in the arena on Geonosis, Padme's mask comes off for good in Anakin's presence. As she puts it, she has "died a little more every day" since the two were reunited. The false self melts away, and the woman cries out to her hero with a beautiful confession, "I truly and deeply love you."

No longer afraid of love, or pain, or even death, Padme and Anakin are led to the arena. Now, they both have something greater to fight for in each other, and when the battle is at its end, the two are quick to be married, uniting their hearts and souls in a classic romantic ending.

Padme's confession of love is more than just a turning point in a much larger story. It is a moment of liberation for a young woman. Just as her offspring would one day liberate the galaxy from the pain and oppression of the Empire, Padme liberates herself from a life of slavery to duty. She embraces the weaknesses that are inherent in her nature, and finds comfort in the arms of her brave, passionate knight. It is the classic romance, the dream of every woman, and the story that has been and will be told through all time.

January 23, 2008

Heath

Like many of you, I was shocked and saddened by the news of Heath Ledger's death. The man was a very talented actor whose career was all too brief.

I know the circumstances surrounding his death are still unknown, but as a believer, I wonder if there was anyone around him to offer spiritual direction. Were there Christian people in his life? Did they share the gospel with him? Was there anyone out there in the church at large praying for him?

We hear a lot of call to pray for Hollywood, for the writers, producers, directors, and actors who are influencing our culture. My question today is HOW are we praying for them? Are we praying against them and their anti-God agendas? For their influence to weaken? For their kingdoms to crumble? Or are we praying for them as Jesus directed us - as people made by God that he yearns to know and call his own?

I don't know where Heath stood with Jesus. I never met him; I probably never would have. But I am sad that I never prayed for him to know Christ.

Update: My good friend and some-time collaborator Natalie Nicole Gilbert has some excellent thoughts to add. You can read her thoughts on her myspace blog: http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=9023644&blogID=350221926

The Christ Allegory and Science Fiction

The Bible says God has revealed himself in all creation. We may deny it outwardly with our lives and our attitudes, but a deeper part of us knows we need a Savior to come into this world, die for us, and save us when we cannot save ourselves.

Joseph Campbell's "Hero With a Thousand Faces" (a must read for literary nuts and Star Wars fans; it was George Lucas' key inspiration for Star Wars) talks about the hero's journey, a story that, in one form or another, has appeared in every culture, language, and place in history. Campbell, an atheist, came oh so close to touching on the real truth of the matter: the need for a Savior lies within every man and woman, programmed into us so that when we see the truth, we might receive it. When the world was younger and full of mystery, the hero's tale was told in mythology and legend. Now that we have subdued the Earth, it emerges more often in a genre where mystery and myth are still par for the course: science fiction.

Everyone caught the Christ allegory in "The Matrix," but the Christ story has been told and retold ever since film makers began exploring the stars. In "The Day the Earth Stood Still" a man from another world took on the name Mr. Carpenter to walks among us, learn our ways, and ultimately offer us a chance at redemption. The cult classic "Flash Gordon" followed a similar story line: the hero comes from another place, dies, and is resurrected with the power to save the world. Even Queen acknowledged the symbolism on the "Flash Gordon" soundtrack: "Flash, ahhhh, Savior of the Universe!"

And then, there's "Mom and Dad Save the World."

"Mom and Dad" is not on anyone's greatest movies list, save for a few nut jobs (like myself and my Dad) who happen to like bad movies. The acting is way over the top, the script is bad, and yet... it's still funny. But this is not about the humor of the movie; it's the story. A man from another world comes to the planet Spengo, where the evil Emperor Tod (Jon Lovitz) steals his bride and tries to murder him. Like Joseph Campbell's archetype of a hero, he has a symbolic death, followed by a resurrection. The people of Spengo turn to follow him, and he returns to the palace to vanquish evil and rescue his bride.

Sure, the Christ allegory was done with more seriousness in "The Day the Earth Stood Still." It looked way cooler in "The Matrix." And "Flash Gordon" did it in a grander cult movie fashion. Still, it's worth noting that the Christ allegory, as it has in myths and legends throughout time, continues to surface, even in the most inane of sci-fi films.

It's noteworthy not only as evidence that we KNOW we need a Savior, but as a witnessing tool. Some of you have friends who are into sci-fi. Some of you probably have friends who are into bad movies. Ever thought a bad movie could be a launching pad for a discussion about salvation?

God is constantly reaching out to his children, in every way he can. Our job is to help them connect the dots and find the thing that's been missing all along.

January 10, 2008

The Sith and the Nature of Evil

You'll have to forgive me. I'm a long time Star Wars fan, and, on occasion, I've written down some thoughts about the Star Wars tales and the spiritual themes within. This one was inspired by Episode III.

A tiny band of warriors emerges from their hiding places and makeshift fortifications. Assessing their losses and surveying the fallen enemies, they sally forth, moving toward the entrance of the queen’s captive fortress. Suddenly, the doorway to the palace opens. A man dressed in black gazes intently at the heroes. He removes his hood, revealing a red face rimmed with horns. The devil himself stands between our heroes and victory.

Or is this, indeed, the true face of the devil?

While Darth Maul embodied the stereotypical image of evil incarnate, we all know what happened to this evil apprentice. His pride led to a momentary lapse of focus. Next thing you know, Obi Wan Kenobi flips over his head, Force-grabs Qui Gon Jinn’s lightsaber, and cuts Darth Maul in half.

Although the fierce, well-trained Sith Lord Darth Maul slew a Jedi Master, he was merely a pawn of the true devil in the Star Wars movie. Behind him stood another, more powerful Sith Lord who wore a black cloak. Yet the face beneath that hood was not red, nor was his head covered in horns. The man known to the Old Republic as Palpatine wore a friendly smile, and a grandfatherly visage. He spoke softly, with all the tenderness and sincerity of a good neighbor looking out for your best interests.

The first of many lessons the Sith can teach us about evil is that evil wears a friendly face. This is almost common sense, that the devil would not masquerade as the red-bodied, horned figure with a pitchfork. What person with any sense of right and wrong, good and evil, would be foolish enough to listen to him?

Palpatine ascended to power during the glory days of the Jedi, who stood for selfless living and service to others. He knew better than to take on the good and noble Jedi head on. His only path was to ascend to power under the guise of good, which was why he created the crisis on Naboo.

It was Palpatine who recruited Nute Gunray and the Trade Federation to lay siege to Naboo. Appearing to the Trade Federation under the hooded Darth Sidious visage, he created a crisis on the world he, as Palpatine, represented in the Senate. A careful suggestion to Queen Amidala, and she called for the vote of no-confidence in then Chancellor Valorum, clearing the way for him to take the seat thanks to, as he put it, a "strong sympathy vote."

We are moral creatures, and no one knows this more than the devil himself. The devil knows that we are on the look out for evil, and so he comes at us with a soft voice that suggests a certain course of action leading to what we believe is a good and just cause. It began Palpatine urging Amidala to defend her people. It continued with Palpatine’s mentoring of young Jedi Anakin Skywalker.

A brash, impatient young spirit like Anakin’s proved a perfect target for Palpatine. Anakin was always in a hurry to get to the next stage in life, from Padawan to Jedi Knight to Master. He was a man of action, not thinking, often making decisions based on emotion rather than thought. Understanding this, Palpatine came at Anakin from two different angles.

The first was to build up Anakin’s ego. Constant praise of Anakin’s skill and achievements gave Anakin something he was often denied by the Jedi. While Obi Wan and others would have wanted Anakin to learn humility, the only human ever to be a pod racer drew closer to the praise emanating from Palpatine’s lips.

Palpatine often contrasted Anakin’s potential with that of the other Jedi. Thus, Anakin was denied the rank of Jedi Master, or when the assignment to hunt down General Grievous went to Obi Wan, the jealousy within him simmered, firing his desire for more power, more control.

The other approach Palpatine took was in promising Anakin that obedience to him, not the Jedi, would lead to good for him and those he loved. Haunted by dreams of Padme’s death, and the death of his mother, Anakin longed for a way to deliver his wife from death. Therefore it was with life that Palpatine tempted Anakin, promising to give him the power to preserve Padme’s life.

Place that alongside the account of the snake in Genesis. The smooth-talking serpent promised Eve that eating the forbidden fruit would give her wisdom, putting her on a par with the giver of life, God himself. And why would such a good God want to deny the ones he loved that sort of knowledge?

Flattery, jealousy of God, the promise of something good. These are the tools the devil uses to lead us down the road of sin. But once started, why do so many keep going? Once Anakin headed down the road of evil, why didn’t he stop?

The turning point of Episode III came when Anakin faced a terrible choice: let Master Jedi Mace Windu kill his mentor and friend Palpatine; or, knowing that Palpatine was the manipulative Sith Lord, destroy Master Windu so that Palpatine could help him save Padme. Impulsively, he made his choice, disabling Master Windu. His grief and guilt in that moment, were immense; but rather than face up to his crime in repentance, he chose to submit to Palpatine’s authority.

So many people, caught in a cycle of sin, find it nearly impossible to repent. The roadblock Satan puts behind them is guilt. Guilt is that sense within us that we have done wrong, and pride keeps us from wanting to acknowledge that guilt. So we sin more, and more, until it is compounded. The guilt we face grows, and becomes even more unbearable to accept. It becomes the walls to our prison, and we become enslaved to an evil master.

Palpatine wasted no time leading Anakin further down the road of evil. "Do what must be done!" He urges. The Jedi, not Anakin, are evil, and must be destroyed. Anakin’s assault on Mace Windu leads to multiple murders in the Jedi temple, where he even slaughtered the young Jedi children. With each death, Anakin became more a slave to Palpatine and evil. And pride, the voice that refuses to admit one has made the wrong choice, solidified the black heart of Darth Vader. Palpatine seals this guilty heart after Vader is placed in the black life-support suit he will wear the rest of his days. By telling Vader he murdered Padme, he lays on him a burden of guilt he could never bear to face.

Even as he sank deeper into slavery of evil, Anakin believed himself to be in the right. Not only that, he felt he could eventually topple Palpatine and, with Padme, make things right. The desire for power, a lust that can never be satiated, it another lesson the Sith illustrate about evil.

Consider the great empires of history. Hitler in Germany, Napoleon in France, Attila the Hun. The great conquerors were never satisfied ruling their own domains. They desired more, so they conquered their neighbors, spreading their influence as far as it would reach. They always sought more.

Such was the case with the Sith Lords. Readings of the expanded universe novels shows the Sith had a legacy of conquering and subduing other planets for their own evil ends. That thirst for power was not merely and external, political thing. In the Coruscant Opera House, Palpatine tells Anakin the tale of the Sith Lord Darth Plagueis, a man so powerful the only thing he feared was death… a death he met at the hands of his apprentice.

What Palpatine does not mention at the time is that he was the ambitious apprentice who slew his master. In fact the history of the Sith shows most of the dark lords perished at the hands of their apprentices. Is it any wonder that the newly named Darth Vader desires to destroy his master so that he might rule the galaxy with Padme and, later on, Luke?

Compare that legacy of bitterness with the Satan we meet in Scripture. God had made Lucifer the most beautiful of all the angels, and yet that heavenly creature was not satisfied. He, like Palpatine and Anakin, desired to destroy his master and become master of Creation himself. Failing that he was cast out, and like the Sith, left to haunt the world, turning whom he can against the Almighty in a never ceasing war against good. And yet while the war rages on, the end is already sealed.

There’s still one more lesson we can take from the Sith regarding the nature of evil. The lesson parallels the lessons of history. Just like Hitler, Napoleon, and Attila, the reign of the Sith Lord Palpatine came to an end. And just like Palpatine, the reign of Satan over creation will have its end.

Star

Wars fans have long known about the end of Palpatine, how his apprentice Darth Vader turned back to good and brought down his dark master. As Christians we have the Revelation, a promise from the Lord that evil will be destroyed and God’s people restored to his presence. No man (and no fiction writer!) knows exactly how it will happen. But the point of Revelation is not to give us a road map to the Apocalypse. It is our assurance that this world will have a triumphant ending for those who, like the Jedi, believe in love and good.

The creative mind behind Star Wars and the Sith is by no means a Christian thinker. However, just as the Lord reveals himself in the beauty of Creation, he reveals himself in the stories we tell. Palpatine and the Sith give one of the most accurate and frightening portraits of evil ever presented in the movies. And while the movies were meant primarily as entertainment, they can serve as a warning to the wise. The devil is not a horned minion in a red suit, but an angel of light spreading half-truths and promises of a better life that God can’t provide. His path is one paved with broken promises and guilt, yet no one, not even Darth Vader, is beyond redemption. The time of accounting will come, and we will all have to face up to our sins. But just as Anakin made his choice, now is our time to choose which master we will serve.

December 07, 2007

Anti-religious bias for all

For weeks Catholics and Evangelicals have been screaming out protests against a certain movie written by a certain atheist because it's an attack on the faith. Today I read that there's a new cry - not from Christians, but atheists, who are upset that the producers of the movie have "toned down" some of the atheist, anti-God themes of the book to make it appeal to a broader audience.

What's this? People getting upset that their religious ideals are toned down in the movies?

Welcome to our world, Atheists.