Respect

Last week, Jeanne and I saw the documentary Bully, a film many people need to see. Unfortunately, there was one other person in the theater. The movie was in Wichita only one week.
I say many people need to see it. I'm thinking especially of school administrators, teachers, students, parents. I know that sounds heavy-handed, especially since it's a difficult film to watch. I know many people don't watch movies, and of those who do, perhaps most just want to see something enjoyable, whether that's an action film or a romantic comedy. 
But occasionally it's good for us to expose ourselves to something that makes us uncomfortable, that forces us to think about--and feel--an issue that is important and needs attention. Call it a spiritual discipline, if you like. If we just go after what's nice and comfortable, we won't grow in our spiritual lives, and the world won't change much for the better.

One reason Bully should be seen by many is that it reveals such a common problem. Many of us (most of us) have been bullied, or our kids have been bullied, or perhaps we've bullied others. Over 13 million kids will be bullied this year, and 3 million will miss school each month because they don't feel safe there. 
It's not only common, it's destructive. Two of the five families portrayed in this film include kids who committed suicide after being bullied repeatedly.
Lee Hirsch, the film's director, was bullied as a child. In this film he interviews members of five families. They live in Iowa, Oklahoma, Texas, Georgia and Mississippi. One of the most moving subjects is Alex, a 12-year-old in Sioux City, Iowa. The filmmakers capture scenes on the school bus in which several kids not only insult Alex but punch him and even stab him with a pencil. The bus driver and the kids around him do nothing. The filmmakers then decide to leave their objective distance for a time and out of concern for Alex's safety show these scenes to Alex's parents and to school officials.
The parents go to the school, where an assistant principal tells them she has ridden on that bus, and the kids are "as good as gold." The school confronts the kids who bullied Alex, though there's no guarantee it will end. But at least the parents know.
And so do we. That's why this film is so important. We see bullying behavior on film, and we get acquainted with those being bullied and with their families.
The film also interviews Kelby, a 16-year-old girl in Tuttle, Okla., who came out as a lesbian. Although she is a good athlete, she is ostracized at school. Some boys even try to run her over with their truck. Her parents are also shunned by their friends. At one point her father, who was raised to believe that homosexuality was a sin, says, "Now I know what it means to walk in someone else's shoes."
What's particularly maddening about bullying is how commonly it is ignored by schools and other parents. It is a complex issue and not easily dealt with, especially when the bullies' parents deny it or simply refuse to do anything about it. And bullies often are kids who've been bullied themselves. Alex at one point says, "It makes me want to be a bully."
Many of these parents and their families have organized rallies to call attention to bullying behavior. They also call us to simply show respect for one another.
When the film first came out, the MPAA gave it an R rating because of some language at the beginning. After a petition and some negotiation, the Weinstein Company made some changes, and the film received a PG-13 rating, which means children of all ages can see it without an adult. And I hope they do. But adults should see it, too.
Still, it's not getting shown widely. The filmmakers are hoping to have 1 million kids see the film, but so far only 88,000 have.
For more information on the movie and the Stand for the Silent campaign, go to www.thebullyproject.com
And let's all learn to show respect.

Shut up and dance

A week ago, I went to see Pina, a film by Wim Wenders that was nominated for best documentary at this year's Academy Awards. I'd read about it, but I was not prepared for its impact. I knew it was a tribute to Pina Bausch, a famous German choreographer who died in 2009. But I'd never seen her works. I'm no expert on dance, and I can't adequately assess or explicate what I saw. Instead, I'll comment on what I see as implications for our spirituality.

But first, let me say a bit about the film. Just look at the poster (above). That image itself is stunning. Now magnify that with about 90 minutes of dances that, as A.O. Scott writes, "enact dramas of desire, sexual violence and the passage of time." They're set on stages and in all kinds of other settings, from city sidewalks to tram cars to forests and fields. The combination of dance and film is often expertly done.
Now notice that quote beneath the title on the poster. It's in German but can be translated as "Dance, dance, or else we're lost." These are Pina Bausch's final words in the film and summarize her passion for her art, which is also her life. Such passion can feel threatening to many of us. Art has the power to frighten us because it deals with emotions, and good art gets to the heart of who we are in our world. It reveals both the beauty and the ugliness of our world and helps us feel that. Many of us don't want to go there.
This was evident in the theater, where only seven or eight of us were watching.
As I viewed this film, I kept wanting a narrative, an explanation of what I was seeing. To get that, you can go to Wikipedia or other sites, which describe some of the pieces shown in the film. But, besides some interviews with the dancers, and a few with Pina, the film is mostly dances. Some of these are disturbing, depicting various kinds of oppression, while others make you want to get up and dance, even though you know you can never match the skills of these magnificent dancers. Pina tells one dancer simply to express joy. He comes up with a movement that does just that. It is--how else to say it--joyful. 
Now, two things I want to apply to our spirituality. One is the nonverbal nature of dance. As I sat there, I thought of something that's been bugging me lately. So much of our spirituality, mine at least, is verbal. It tends toward thought and framing that thought into words. And as I've sat in worship services and, last weekend in Indiana as part of my job, in meetings of church leaders, I thought, We talk too much. We fill our worship and our meetings with words, when maybe we need to do more listening to the Spirit and, dare I say it, dance.
Here's the other thing, which is related. Dance is so physical. Pina's dancers are usually barefoot and wearing few clothes. They express their art with their bodies, contorting them into all kinds of positions, moving them in graceful and frenetic ways to display various emotions. That the film is in 3-D only accentuates the viewers encounter with bodies. 
As I argue in my book Present Tense, spirituality is often equated with the nonphysical. But true Christian spirituality, as opposed to what I call Gnostic spirituality, does not deny the body but incorporates it into spirituality, which means following or living in the Spirit, not out of the body.
I could go on about these implications for our spirituality, but I'll stop. Perhaps I can summarize these thoughts this way: Instead of living in our head and talking (or writing) about it, maybe we should shut up and dance.

God in popular music

Popular music includes a plethora of artists and styles, and our tastes vary dramatically. So we cannot think of it too simplistically. And in general we tend to simply enjoy the beat, tap our feet or let ourselves be absorbed in the sound. We probably don’t often think about what messages it has for us.

And when or if we think about popular music, we may not usually think about whether or how God is present in it or what it might have to say to us. But three new books help us do just that.

Broken Hallelujahs: Why Popular Music Matters to Those Seeking God by Christian Scharen (Brazos Press, 2011, $17.99) looks at “the paradoxical nature of human hope and despair, joy and suffering, and the ways God is revealed in the midst of it all—from various points of view, including Leonard Cohen, the blues and Scripture.”

Scharen quotes a line from a Cohen song that reads, “there is a crack in everything / that’s how the light gets in.” Music often reveals the cracks in life, the sorrows we experience, but also hints at light, at redemption.

As the Psalms often express both the sorrows and the joys of the Psalmist, so popular music can serve that function. Thomas Dorsey, who wrote “Precious Lord,” saw “a profound connection between the blues and church, rooted as they both are in what it means to be human, to cry out in the depths of our being in response to the circumstances of life.”

At the root of all good art, including music, is honesty. Scharen quotes Bono of U2: “The most important element in painting a picture, writing a song, making a movie, whatever, is that it is truthful, a version of the truth as you see it.”

Unfortunately, many Christians use what Scharen calls “checklist Christianity,” a constricted imagination that simply counts the number of “bad words” in a song or tries to measure it against Christian doctrine.

Scharen calls us to first give ourselves to the song and let it speak to us. He quotes C.S. Lewis, who wrote that we “are so busy doing things with the work [of art] that we give it too little chance to work on us. Thus increasingly we meet only ourselves.”

Two other recent books follow similar themes while exploring other artists. In Hip-Hop Redemption: Finding God in the Rhythm and the Rhyme (BakerAcademic, 2011, $17.99), Ralph Basui Watkins explores the history and influence of hip-hop and asks how God is present in this music.

Kicking at the Darkness: Bruce Cockburn and the Christian Imagination by Brian J. Walsh (Brazos Press, 2011, $18.99) engage the work of the popular Canadian (and Christian) singer-songwriter and how entering the world of his songs “is so helpful in the shaping of … a Christian imagination.”

Both authors also sound the theme of truthtelling in art. Walsh quotes Cockburn: “If you’re an artist, you’re immediately put in a position of opposition to mainstream society, because you are trying to tell the truth.”

This idea is behind the line of a Cockburn song that gives Walsh’s book its title: “nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight / got to kick at the darkness ’til it bleeds daylight.”

This also puts the artist in the role of a prophet. Watkins asks, “What if God is actually using hip-hop and its young artists to speak prophetically to the church and call her to task?”

“Prophets are visionaries who discern the times,” writes Walsh. They, like many artists, describe what is happening and may speak judgment. As one Cockburn song says, “The trouble with normal / is it always gets worse.”

But art can also be redemptive. Watkins writes, “The redemptive principle in hip-hop is rooted in the truth in the stories that artists tell as they resonate with both their own lived experience and that of their listeners.”

All three authors emphasize listening to the music and let it speak before judging it. As we listen, it may reward us to also listen to the cries of people and for God’s healing voice.

My experience of the artists mentioned in these books varies. I’ve long been a Cockburn fan, though not to the extent of Walsh, and I’ve listened to some of Cohen’s music (“Hallelujah” is a great song) and to some blues. But hip-hop is out of my ken, though Watkins makes me want to listen to it.

While these authors point to lessons we can learn about God’s presence in popular music, all three of them encourage us to engage the music, surrender to it, as Scharen says. Music is more than some message, more than the words. It is an experience. And like all experiences, we weigh its effect on us in the light of God’s love and mercy. Through it we can find ways to engage our world and God’s Spirit.

Welcoming Jesus

You shall love the alien as yourself.--Leviticus 19:34
I was a stranger and you welcomed me.--Matthew 25:35

The other night I watched the 2011 film A Better Life, which had come up on my Netflix queue. The previous night, watching the Academy Awards telecast, I saw a clip from this film showing Demián Bichir, who was nominated for Best Actor. After seeing the film, I decided he deserved his nomination.

 
He plays Carlos Galindo, a gardener in East L.A. who struggles to keep his son away from gangs and immigration agents while trying to give his son the opportunities he never had. Early on, the film feels topical, but soon it gets more specific and tells the story of this man who tries to live a moral life in the midst of hardship and trying circumstances that feel like rotten luck.
He borrows money from his sister to buy a truck so that he can have his own gardening business and make some money in order to get him and his son into a better situation. But another immigrant that he hires steals his truck and sells it in order to send money to relatives back in Mexico. Carlos enlists the help of his son to find this man, and when they do, the son can't understand why his father isn't angrier or more vengeful toward the man who stole his truck.
The film helps viewers get into the skin of an immigrant who lives in constant fear of being caught and removed from his son, who is legal because he was born in the United States. This describes the situation of thousands of people in our country. We also see that immigrants are not a homogeneous group. Neither are Hispanics. Although Carlos shares a language and culture with many other Hispanics in L.A., he feels out of place with many of them as well. 
What makes the film better than most is that while it gives us a glimpse of this "issue," it mainly tells the moving story of a father and son caught in the grip of larger forces and doing their best to get buy. That helps make this specific story a universal one as well.
At church the previous day, last Sunday, I spoke with Jesus, who was visiting with his wife and two children. They'd been there a few weeks earlier as well. He and his son, Alejandro, helped us set up tables and chairs for our twice-monthly potluck after worship. Jesus told me a bit of his story, his going to Michigan from Mexico five years ago, then moving to Wichita, Kan., to find work, then bringing his family here. When I said, "I'm glad you're here," he smiled. It's not the message he hears much in our culture. There seems to be a lot of vitriol expressed toward immigrants, and too much of it comes from people who call themselves Christians.
I'm not claiming it's a simple issue. There are many complexities. But the Bible verses quoted above represent a thread in Scripture that ties strongly to the Golden Rule: "Do to others as you would have them do to you" (Matthew 7:12). 
The argument in Leviticus is that you love aliens (that word sounds strange, as if they're from Mars) because you were once aliens. In Matthew 25, Jesus identifies with the stranger, saying we welcome him when we welcome a stranger.
Yesterday I had lunch with Caleb Lazaro, a young pastor from Colorado Springs who is scholar-in-residence at Bethel College in North Newton, Kan., for six months. I'd heard him at our church back in January, where he talked about his own church. Most of the 45 or so in his church are undocumented, and he says the main issue he and others address with them is their anxiety. They often feel shame, he said. And their kids are often raised without a sense of home, which leads some to join gangs. Caleb said there has been no reform in citizenship laws since 1965. There needs to be a redefinition of citizenship, he said, so that people who've been living like citizens (paying taxes, contributing to the economy) for, say, five years, should be recognized as citizens.
In a letter in a recent New Yorker (Feb. 27), Katherine Fennelly notes that "immigration prosecutions now make up nearly half of federal felony prosecutions." NAFTA (the North American Free Trade Agreement) brought a freer flow of goods and capital, she writes, but not an increase in visas for blue-collar workers. "Over 20,000 immigrants now languish in federal prison for no crime other than entering the United States without a valid visa."
A Better Life tells a story that helps us see in a clearer way the experience of many undocumented workers. It doesn't explore why people are leaving other countries and coming to the United States at such risk. A documentary that does that is Dying to Live: A Migrant's Journey,which is available from Mennonite Central Committee (www.mcc.org). It's a 35-minute film and shows the desperate straits that drive people to leave their families to try to find work here. I recommend it.
Immigration is a huge issue, but it involves real people. As people seeking to follow Jesus, we need to summon the courage and the decency to welcome people some call aliens. In doing so, we may be welcoming the Lord we claim to follow.

Working to end poverty

I belong to a movement (they don't like to call it an organization) called Circles of Hope. It's part of a national movement called the Circles Initiative. Its goal is to end poverty one family at a time. Here's a description from the peaceconnections.org website: Circles of Hope is part of a national campaign. The Circles® Campaign is a transformational approach that partners volunteers and community leaders with families wanting to make the journey out of poverty. Operating in communities around the country, each Circles® initiative consists of families working to get out of poverty and several middle and upper income Allies who befriend them and lend support. The family is the Circle Leader, setting direction for activities. With the help and friendship of their allies, each family sets and achieves goals unique to their own needs.

I got involved about two years ago. After my job was cut to half-time, I sensed God calling me to do some kind of volunteer work. Jeanne, my wife, had told me about something called Bridges Out of Poverty, which is a book that looks at poverty culture. Peace Connections, a local organization that sponsors Circles of Hope, was offering training for allies (see definition above). I did the training and eventually became an ally and was assigned to a circle leader. That was about 18 months ago, which is the commitment an ally makes to remain with a circle leader. It's been such a good experience that I hate to see it end. Likely I'll remain an ally and join a new circle leader.
Last evening (Feb. 21), at a weekly meeting of Circles (circle leaders and allies meet once a month), two of the national leaders of the Circles Initiative addressed our group and responded to questions. I jotted down some notes I found interesting.
Karin VanZant, CEO of Think Tank and the National Circles Campaign, responded to questions from the group (about 70 people were there). Among her responses she mentioned that in Ohio, where she lives, there are 88,000 unfilled jobs. Colleges are not designed to meet the training needs for those jobs in a very efficient way. Circles, of course, is interested in helping people get training and find jobs that pay a livable wage. Here is an opportunity.
She and John White, National Circles Campaign director, who was with her, travel around the country to various Circles groups. Karin noted that a group in California has several Spanish-speaking groups. A big problem is that there are many undocumented adults with documented children.
She pointed out the importance of working with businesses and showing them that helping people get out of poverty is good for business. She offered several examples. In her community, they did research and found that there were more payday loans than banks. They also learned that in one year the payday loans made $3 million. The banks realized that here was money they were missing out on. She also said there something called the Community Investment Act, which says that banks are to invest in their local communities. Here was a chance for a win-win. The banks needed customers and to invest in the community; circle leaders (people in poverty) needed checking accounts and loans that were not at such an ungodly (and I mean that word) rate. Circle leaders told some bank managers that they'd tried to open checking accounts but were denied. And the payday loans were located in their neighborhoods. Two of the banks stopped running credit checks on circle leaders and got more customers--ones with a community behind them.
Checking accounts are crucial, Karin said, because some employers pay by direct deposit and won't hire people who don't have a checking account.
Karin said that studies show that by looking at third grade reading scores you can figure how many kids will drop out of high school before they graduate, and many of these will end up in prison. So in Ohio, they are building prison cells based on third grade reading scores. But she argued that this is shortsighted. Instead of investing $7,000 per year to raise reading scores, they are spending $37,000 per year for a prisoner. It's in the best interests of society to invest in education.
She also noted that turnover (when employees leave after only a few months) costs employers a lot of money. But with what circle leaders learn and with the support of their circle community, they will stay longer on a job when they are hired. She shows employers how this saves them money. Then she says they should allow the employee to move into a better-paying position once they've been there six months or so. Both groups win.
Karin mentioned four goals for circle leaders: get a job, get a better job, get an education, strengthen their family. Doing this helps people get out of poverty and helps make a better society for all of us. 
Circles of Hope is not a religious organization, but many who are involved in our group are Christian. It should be obvious that working to end poverty and build community are spiritual values we all should support.

Zombie nation

Now that The Walking Dead has resumed its second season, let's look at our nation's fascination with zombies.
Back in 1961, when Rod Argent formed the British rock group The Zombies, it was a fairly exotic name. There were some zombie films (White Zombie, cited as the first, came out in 1932), but they had a small cult following. By the time "She's Not There" and "Time of the Season" had come out, Night of the Living Dead, George Romero's classic zombie film and the first of his series, was out, and many more followed.
Now zombies are all the rage. The Walking Dead is hugely popular on TV. And on the bookshelves you'll find such mashups as Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Even literary fiction has gotten into the act. Last fall, Zone One by Colson Whitehead, an acclaimed novelist, came out.

What gives? Why this obsession with zombies?
You can easily overanalyze it. Part of it is simply an interest in good stories, or in the genre of scary stories. I remember sitting on our front porch in the evening and telling ghost stories or what came to be known as urban legends, like the man with the hook for a hand. We like to feel scared but safe.
And the zombie films, for one, have evolved into other genres, using comedy and romance to tell their stories of the living dead. Films such as Shaun of the Dead, Braindead and Zombieland have captured our interest.
The Walking Dead and Zone One fall under the heading zombie apocalypse, in which an infestation of some kind has infected most of the population, and a few survivors try to fight off the zombies who want to feed on them.
Interest in this kind of story may reflect a need to escape real fears by imagining a worse one. We live in uncertain times, facing economic, environmental, political and spiritual problems that seem insurmountable. Let's get absorbed in a story that shows us concrete fears that we can face vicariously through the survivors trying to fight off the zombies. There's an appeal in that.
In his American Soundings column in the Feb. 8 issue of The Christian Century (christiancentury.org), Rodney Clapp writes about this obsession with zombies. He writes about "how crowded our world and lives have become." He says that "the multitudinous daily contacts we have with people via television, radio, e-mail and the Internet" can feel like we're being attacked by zombies. Although real people are behind all these contacts, they are concealed. 
He goes on to look at how our politics have moved toward demonization and dehumanization of one's opponents. And zombies, of course, are the ultimate dehumanized demon. 
Then there's the fear of widespread disease, such as depicted in last year's Contagion, a good film, by the way.
Whatever the reason for our interest in zombies, we do carry within us many fears. And these fears affect how we act, how we respond to others. They increase our mistrust of our environment and diminish our enjoyment of life. Our fears, often unacknowledged, can have a dehumanizing effect on us. Facing them honestly is one important step. Another is offering them to our Creator, who embraces us with an unconditional love that casts out all fear.
So enjoy your zombie apocalypses, but don't let the bite of fear infect you.

The politics of inequality

Jeanne, my wife, sent me (bless her) the link below to a TED talk by Richard Wilkinson on the effects of income inequality in developing countries. It's almost 17 minutes long, but it's worth watching.

TED, founded in 1984, stands for Technology, Entertainment and Design and is a global set of conferences owned by the private nonprofit Sapling Foundation, formed to disseminate "ideas worth spreading."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZ7LzE3u7Bw

 Why is it worth watching? It describes a problem that affects many people, including you and me, and helps us understand what's going on. How we respond is another matter and one I will address briefly.

But first let me say a bit about the points Wilkinson makes, in case you don't watch the video (or even if you do). He shows that wealth makes no difference in life expectancy between countries, but it does within countries.His research teach used data from the United Nations and the World Bank.

The factor he delineates as key is how much richer are the richest 20% in a country than the poorest 20%. First, he looks at health and social problems and shows that countries with the least income inequality (i.e. greatest income equality) have the fewest problems.

His research team used the UNICEF index on child well-being, which includes 40 components and found the same trend. (He has helpful charts to illustrate these trends.)

The differences between us matter very much, he says. He shows that people in countries with greater income inequality trust each other less. The rates of mental illness are greater in countries with greater income inequality. I haven't said which countries these are. Unfortunately, the United States and Singapore have the greatest income inequality of the 20 or so countries included. Japan and the Nordic countries (Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland) have the least income inequality.

Another factor (no surprise, and possibly the subject of a future blog) is the proportion of people in prison. And, Wilkinson says, this is not driven by crime but by more punitive sentences.

Then he looks at social mobility, which is greater in countries with less income inequality. He says: "If Americans want to live the American dream, they should move to Denmark."

How do countries reach more equality? he asks. It varies. In Sweden, where there is inequality in earned income, higher income is taxed more. Japan, on the other hand, has a more equitable income across the board.

Here in the United States, as you know, income inequality is great and getting greater, and the tax structure doesn't offset that much at all.

Wilkinson also points out that people's greatest stress comes from effects on self-esteem from social standing.

We are social beings, and these trends in our society affect us in different ways. They also affect our neighbors. Our spirituality needs to reflect this understanding. To live faithful lives in the Spirit, we need to recognize our social reality (and that of our neighbors) and strive for greater justice. 

If you follow the logic of Wilkinson's research, it's not only justice but our own well-being that calls us to seek greater income equality in our country.

But how? I use the dreaded word "politics" in my title. It's also the title of a chapter in my book. There I write that the word, derived from the Greek word polis, denotes a decision-making body. "Politics," I write, "reflects the workings of a community of people making decisions together to carry out their goals, the kind of life they've set for themselves."

We can try to work with others to make decisions that help create a better, more equitable environment. Doing so will help everyone.

Unfortunately, we have a politics of inequality in our country,one that tends to favor not only the richer 20% but the richest 1%. Helping bridge that gap helps us all.

The possessed

No, this is not about Dostoevsky's novel, also called The Devils or The Demons in other translations. Instead, I'll share some thoughts from reading Luke Timothy Johnson's book Sharing Possessions: What Faith Demands (Eerdmans).

This is a second edition of a book first published in 1981, if that matters. Johnson teaches New Testament and Christian origins at Candler School of Theology, Emory University, and he's written many books.
For those of you not really into theology, forgive me (that's a theological category, by the way). I'll try to be succinct.
Johnson tackles the thorny question of how we connect being a Christian and the way we own and use things. And when he talks about possessions, he doesn't limit this to money or material things. He includes our bodies, which, he writes, "are symbols because they reveal, make manifest, our inner emotional states and attitudes."
What he calls "the real mystery concerning possessions" is "how they relate to our sense of identity and worth as human beings." The problem we face is when we confuse being and having.
In these days of lamenting the huge inequalities in our society (a subject of a future blog), of the 1% and the 99%, it's easy for some to equate wealth with evil or idolatry and poverty with goodness and purity. All of us, no matter our wealth, are subject to the idolatry of equating what we have with who we are or of being selfish.
And Johnson points out how society affects the way possessions are perceived. He offers the example of how taking candy from a baby used to be a symbol of the greatest offense. But "in some sugarphobic circles today it would be regarded as an act of highest virtue."
Certainly in America today, with our general standard of living, we view possessions in a different light from how a person in, say, Somalia, might view them.
The question Johnson asks that I'm interested in is to what extent our possessions possess us. This applies to the material things we "own" (a word that raises all kinds of questions), but it also has to do with things like physical health, education or relationships.
Later, Johnson gets to the subject in the title of his book, sharing possessions. He calls this the mandate and symbol of faith. He notes that how we view God determines our view of other people. In other words, "the way we perceive and respond to the ultimate reality gives shape to the way we perceive and respond to all other reality." The stance of idolatry is, The more I have the more I am. But if we are all equally naked before God at the level of existence, then we are equally loved by God and "equally clothed in the only worth that matters."
Johnson notes that the idolatry of equating ourselves with our possessions often comes out of fear. He points out that just before Jesus in Luke's Gospel says, "Sell your possessions and give alms" (12:33), he says, "Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom" (12:32). 
If you read the Bible enough you'll see that it says much more about money and wealth than it does about sex or even prayer. And one of the things it says is that our possessions--whether that refers to the material things we own or to our health or education or relationships--is for sharing. In Jewish practice--as well as Muslim and Buddhist and Hindu, among other religions--almsgiving is encouraged.
We can share freely because we receive freely from God's abundant love and because what we own and later share does not determine who we are.
Am I free of being possessed by my possessions? Not at all. Just last month I discovered that a book I'd loaned out never got returned, and I don't remember who I loaned it to. (Memory is becoming a less reliable possession.) That this bothered me shows that I did not share very freely.
I also struggle with the temptation to equate my worth with my income, which is much reduced since I'm only employed half-time now.
My desire is to be possessed by God, not by what I think I own.

Silence is golden

The Oscar nominations came out this week, and The Artist received 10 nominations, including best picture. In fact, after winning the Golden Globe for best comedy or musical, it is the front runner for best picture. It is the first silent film (more on that later) to be nominated since the first Academy Award for best picture went to Wings in 1929. See a trailer at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8K9AZcSQJE.

You may have noted that it did not make my top 10 list (see my blog "My top 10 films of 2011"). But that's because it did not arrive at a cinema in Wichita, Kan. (I live in Newton, a half hour north) until this past week. Had I seen it earlier, it likely would have. (By the way, if you're interested in top 10 film lists, go to metacritic.com, which shows lists of critics from all the major outlets.)
The Artist begins in the silent film era and features Jean Dujardin as George Valentin, a silent film star, and his dog Jack, played by a Jack Russell terrier named Uggie who practically steals the show with his charming antics. Valentin helps a young actress, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), get her start, and eventually she becomes the next big thing, especially after talkies begin. The proud Valentin refuses to take part in this new technology but remains true to his art in the silent media. That conflict and interplay between art and pride become a major theme of the film, which delves into melodrama at times.
But I want to explore a different theme--silence. Most people haven't watched many silent films and so will find this one strange at first, a novelty or even a frustration. (I heard of a theater in England where patrons complained that there was no dialogue in the film.) But soon you'll get accustomed to the genre. And you'll discover it's not completely silent, since it includes music, which in this case is often lively. (And this film also includes other sounds at certain places.) Silent films also often include intertitles, shots of written words spliced between the action shots.
I hope this film will encourage more viewers to look at silent films. There are some great ones, many available through Netflix or elsewhere. One of my favorites is a French film with the English title The Passion of Joan of Arc. It would make my top 10 list of the greatest films of all time. What that film shows, as does The Artist and many other silent films, is the emotion actors can reveal through their facial expressions and gestures. Dujardin, who is nominated for best actor, is especially good at this, and in one scene he exaggerates this element of silent films, as this film spoofs the making of another film.
Another aspect of silent films is that they impel the viewer to pay greater attention to the actors' expressions and to the action. We become like those who lose their hearing and gain a greater sense of sight. Since we can't depend on hearing actors' words, we have to attend to what we see and gain understanding from that.
This can apply to our spiritual life as we live that out in our daily lives.Silence is an ancient practice in the Christian tradition as well as in other religions. Some monks and others take a vow of silence and communicate with others through sign language.
We need not go to that extent to experience the benefits of silence. Instead we can take smaller steps, practice listening to others carefully instead of only thinking of how we will respond verbally. We can even (horrors!) turn off our TVs, ipods or radios and dwell in silence. Try it even for five or 10 minutes. Like watching a silent film, it will take a while to adjust. We are so accustomed to having noise of some kind around us that silence can feel threatening. It may drive us inward to face the voices inside us. And that may scare us. But be patient and listen.

Lessons from Dickens on my ipod

I like to walk, and when I do I often listen to my ipod. For the last year or so, I've been listening either to lectures or to recorded books I've downloaded. The other day I was listening to a lecture on Bleak House, a long (900-some-page) novel by Dickens--one of his best, if you choose to tackle it. The lecture was by Arnold Weinstein of the Teaching Company (see www.thegreatcourses.com) and part of a series of lectures called Classic Novels.
Weinstein was making the point that one of Dickens' themes is how the world around us affects us--actually pollutes us--whether or not we are aware of it. One character in the novel is Jo, a poor crossing-sweeper who is nearly invisible to most of the people around him. Yet he has the power to affect other characters. Weinstein points to a story by the radical British journalist Richard Carlile (1790-1843) about a woman who goes to Edinburgh, Scottland, and pleads to passersby, "Help me. I'm your sister." Everyone says, "You're not my sister." But in the end, she dies and infects everyone with typhus. So they were connected to her and affected (infected) by her without being aware of it.
As I said in my first blog, we are all affected by the culture around us, the media we swim in, whether or not we are aware of it. The Bible says this: "Don't be conformed to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds so that you can figure out what God's will is--what is good and pleasing and mature." (Romans 12:2 in the new Common English Bible)
This verse has been used by some to bludgeon people with the message, Don't be conformed to the world, as if that's a simple thing to understand. The problem is that those "patterns" are difficult to see. But maybe a good starting point is to acknowledge that we are being conformed by forces we can't even see. Then we can try to be transformed--not an easy task.
I'm thinking that transformation is a lifelong task that involves lots of grace. And I imagine certain spiritual practices might help us in that, such as prayer, service, being in community with others seeking to be transformed.
What do you think?

Present in the Presence

Welcome to my blog.
We swim in an ocean of media, often unaware of its influences on our life. Meanwhile, God's Spirit permeates our world and beckons us to live that loving Presence. How do we navigate the waters around us while being aware of the presence of God within and around us?
Help me explore that question as I look at books, films, TV and other cultural media and reflect on the tension of how to live in the present and in the Presence.
That's the subject of my book Present Tense: A Mennonite Spirituality, and here's a quote from it final page:
"Spirituality … is living in (and by) the Spirit. It is not a strategy or tactic, not a rule or lesson but a life. And living, as we all know, is usually mundane, messy and unpredictable."
Again, welcome.