Category: Theology and Pop Culture

Before I jump in to this movie, I want to remind my readers of a few things from my first post on theology and culture, namely that my reviews contain spoilers, and may often be of films with adult content. Looper is rated R for violence, language and nudity, and it is the ending in this movie that offers the most value to us for dialogue, so you have now been warned about both.

But seriously, if you haven’t seen Looper, go see it, and stop reading. This post WILL ruin the ending, and it’s really worth not knowing in advance.

Continue reading “Theological Dialogue: Looper” →

In the third and final film of the trilogy, Batman faces an even greater foe than ever before: the expectations of living up to the Dark Knight.

Unfortunately this is one foe that Batman is unable to conquer, but let’s be fair: the odds were not in his favor.

For me, and many moviegoers and critics, the Dark Knight Rises did not live up to the impossibly-high bar set by its predecessor. While it was still a great film and a crowning achievement, it fell short of what we all hoped it could be. Personally, I don’t think the film was as smart or philosophical as the first two. But the movie was still very reflective, and gives us a lot to think about.

Continue reading “Theological Dialogue: The Dark Knight Rises” →

In the last post, we explored the character of the Joker, the Joker’s “truth”, and a Christian response to it.

In this post, we will take a look at the film’s ending. In a unique and surprising twist, the movie doesn’t actually end on a happy note. The Joker has accomplished his goal by turning Harvey Dent, gotham’s best hope for a legitimate future, into the homicidal villain Two-Face. Two-Face has gone on a brief rampage, killing cops and kidnapping Gordon’s family. In doing so, the Joker has won the battle for Gotham’s soul. All they had worked for was gone, having banked on the reputation of Harvey Dent. The criminals would be set free, and their spirit would be broken.

But in a self-sacrificing move, Batman realizes that he doesn’t have to be the hero. Batman can be the villain, because he’s a symbol, “whatever Gotham needs me to be”. Batman takes the blame for Harvey’s death and the murders Harvey committed, living a lie so that the truth doesn’t destroy Gotham. The movie says that “Sometimes the truth isn’t good enough. People deserve to have their faith rewarded.” In similar fashion, Alfred burns a letter written by Rachel before her death that says she was going to choose Harvey over Bruce. The movie suggests, then, that there are times when it is better to lie than to tell the truth.

As a side note, these are themes which resurface in the third film. In a fascinating way, Rises really questions the integrity of the ending of this movie. But we’ll get to that when we get to that.

Until then, we have to take this movie on its own terms. Is a lie ever better than the truth? What is the nature of truth? And what do we make of Jesus’ declaration, “I am the truth”?

And more importantly… did the good guys win?

The first observation to be made is that this ending forces Batman into the kind of ethic he fought so strongly against in the first movie. As we explored in the Batman Begins post, the movie is essentially a debate between situational ethics and idealistic ethics. Ra’s Al Ghul believes that it is right to kill some for te sake of the many, but Batman believes that there are a set of principles that should never be violated that govern human interaction.

But at this juncture in the movie, Batman compromises that ethic by saying that sometimes it is better to lie than to tell the truth. (Not to mention the ethical issues with the sonar system he builds.) The Joker may not have turned him into the killer, but he managed to turn Batman into a liar; a noble liar, yes, but to get Batman to question his ethical code at all was enough, and we see the implications of it in the third movie.

This may be a thought experiment, however, in which neither utilitarianism nor kantian ethics are good enough. Consider the classic “noble lie” situation: suppose you are hiding Jews in your attic in Holocaust-Europe. A Nazi soldier comes to your door and says, “Are you harboring any Jews in this house?” Your answer to this question, if your only two choices are a utilitarian and kantian ethic, is a lose-lose. If you operate under the principle that lying is wrong, you are forced to tell the truth to the Nazi and ensure the death of the fugitives. If you tell him a lie, you admit that there are situations in which principles are set aside, and that opens the door for endless ethical interpretation.

This is the quandary Batman finds himself caught in, and this is why, in the end, this story is a tragedy. Like the classic Shakespearean tragedy, nobody walks away unscathed. This is the Joker’s final victory.

But what was Batman to do? He had to make a choice between two ethical camps just like the first movie, but this one isn’t as cut and dry. There’s a significant grey area when it comes to “truthfulness”. Truth isn’t always black and white.

This now runs the risk of being more philosophical than I am capable of handling, so my smarter philosopher friends be sure and correct me and help me out. But I think there is an important distinction to be made between “truth” and “fact”, and I think the former has some theological implications.

This comes primarily from Peter Rollins’ book “How [NOT] to Speak of God”, which you just simply must read. But in this book, Rollins examines this idea of truth and lies related to the thought experiment from earlier:

“In response to this question we have three options:

1. we regretfully say ‘yes’, acknowledging that we are held under a higher moral law which requires that we do not deceive
2. we say ‘no’, judging that it is the lesser of two evils
3. we say ‘no’ and feel happy we told the truth

In this example, most contemporary Christians in the west would, I suspect, choose (2) as closest to their own position. However, if we take truth to mean any act which positively transforms reality, rather than describes reality, then there is no problem acknowledging that, while denying there are Jews in the house is empirically incorrect, it is true in a religious sense precisely because it protects the innocent (as well as protecting the soldiers from committing a horrific act).” (61)

Rollins here redefines “truth” as being separate from “fact”. These are, in fact, two different words. Fact is that which “describes” reality, and Truth is that which “transforms” reality. “Truth-telling” is therefore a positive, creational act that makes a better world out of the one we have, not a risky, ethical quandary. With this understanding of Truth, no-one in the scenario commits any sin or evil. In fact, the person who “lies” to the Nazi has instead created a better future in which the innocent are protected and the victimizer has not committed evil.

I would also argue that this is an essentially Christian position. While in the Batman Begins post I suggested that a Christian position is closer to a Kantian ethic than a Utilitarian one, it is important to note which particular “principles” we hold firmly to, and the one thing we are called to hold firmly to as Christians is Christ. And Christ said that the law and the prophets (all the ethical quandaries) rest on two commandments (which are actually one commandment): love God and love neighbor.

But Jesus also said, “I am the way, the TRUTH and the life.” (Emphasis added.) If Jesus IS Truth, then we must, in a discussion abut what truth is, bring Jesus to light. If Jesus is truth, then “telling the truth” can never be an act which harms the oppressed or neglects to love God, neighbor, or even enemy. This is why Rollins’ definition is so poignant. Truth is “that which transforms reality” because Jesus is “that which transforms reality”. This is an important lesson, perhaps for another post, that sometimes what is “fact” can be wielded and used to destroy or harm maliciously, and is therefore not “truth”.

So what about Batman? Batman essentially chooses (2) of Rollins’ three choices, under an incomplete definition of truth. This causes the events of Rises to occur, in which the “buried” truth literally comes up to the surface and rips the city apart.

I don’t know what Batman should have done in this situation. The movie presents Batman as the tragic hero, who in a Christ-like manner absorbs and takes on the sins of others for the salvation of the city. But the difference between Batman and Christ (among many) is that Batman’s self-sacrifice is based on deception, burying the truth and attempting to live out a lie. Living out the truth, unflinchingly, is what got Jesus killed.

While the events of our Holocaust-Europe thought-experiment  led to a dichotomy between fact and Truth, I’m not sure that Batman is justified in his actions. The city actually had much to be proud of; they subverted the Joker’s attempts to turn them all into villains on the two boats. Harvey Dent may have served as a painful reminder that we are all potential villains, there were other commendable figures such as Rachel Dawes, in memorium, or especially Commissioner Gordon, that the City could place their hope in for a better future. The city needed a hero that was alive (or Resurrected?) to place their hopes in. At the end of the movie, all Batman’s lie gives Gotham is a dead hero and a murdering Batman. What kind of hope is that? I’m thoroughly unconvinced that the stakes were as high as they were in the thought-experiment, and the third film proves that Batman and Gordon did not make the right choice, but would any of us have done any differently? I like to think that if Batman and Gordon had more time to think it through, there was a better way. But the fact that they didn’t choose that way, and the Joker truly wins the fight for Gotham’s, and Batman’s soul, is what makes this movie the unprecedented, tragic, iconic, and unforgettable film that it was. Not every story has a happy ending.

As it stands, my two favorite subjects in the world are movies and theology. On this blog, I’ve been having a blast combining these two passions thus far. But today I get an enormous privilege in getting to not only do this once more, but to do it with one of my favorite movies in the entire world, The Dark Knight. Unfortunately, as I was about halfway through this post, I realized that this movie is so much more complex than I could do in one post, so this is now “part one”. In this one, we will explore the character of “the Joker”, whom this film is truly about, and in the second we will explore the ending of the film: whether Batman’s sacrifice is truly noble, and whether a lie can be better than the truth.

The movie deals with the fallout of Batman Begins, an amazing trait of these films. Now that Batman has struck fear into the criminal world, “escalation” occurs. A psychotic terrorist with visions of chaos arrives with something to prove. As I mentioned in my last post, director Christopher Nolan has one-word themes for each of his Batman films; this one’s is “chaos”. Nolan wants to imagine how a superhero like Batman deals with a villain who doesn’t actually “want” anything or, worse, fear anything.

What’s truly terrifying about the Joker in this movie is that truly nothing motivates this villain except for pure destruction. As Alfred tells Batman in the middle of the film: “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” Couple that with a truly unbelievable performance by the late Heath Ledger, and you have the greatest villain ever put to film.

My struggle is this: do villains like this actually exist? I have to say “no”. When we look at criminals, even terrorists, in our world, we see people motivated by greed, desperation, hatred, and religious ideology. The only exception to this is mental illness, what we would call the psychopath. And while the term “psychopath” is used to describe the Joker in the movie, I don’t think he is truly portrayed that way. The Joker is actually quite the self-aware, methodical genius. You could argue a combination of psychological and social disorder, of course, and that probably is the case in this film. But generally speaking, the terrorists of our world want something or intend to accomplish something with their terror. The Joker doesn’t want anything. He even burns the millions of dollars he acquires just to make a point.

What’s makes the Joker such an amazing villain is that he operates under a particular ideology that, I would argue, is essentially true. In Batman Begins, we saw two moral ideologies go head to head, and I suggested that Batman defends an essentially Christian premise. But in this movie, the Joker holds a dark belief that I’m afraid may be true: if you take away order and push people to their limits, ANYONE can become a villain.

This happens all throughout the film. The theme is given away early on, as Harvey Dent says over dinner, “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” The Joker is out to make villains out of everyone. He twists police officers to do his dirty work through the mob; he threatens to blow up a hospital and turns an entire city into assassins; he pits the citizens against the criminals to see who will kill each other first to save themselves; and ultimately, he turns Gotham’s “white knight” into the villain “Two-Face” in order to achieve final victory: the destruction of Gotham’s spirit and progress since Batman’s arrival.

The Joker here is more than a villain. The Joker is more of a “devil”. Sure, the Joker commits villainy on his own, but his ultimate intention is to turn everyone else into a villain. Biblically, there is something to be said here about such a “character”.

The Bible has a recurring, though inconsistent, character known as the devil, Satan, etc. By inconsistent, I mean that the Bible never takes the time to explain who this character is, where they came from, and there are a lot of interesting instances where stories in different books do not match up, and we’re never really sure what sort of relationship there is between God and this devil. (See Job to be thoroughly confused about how this “devil” works.) The Bible uses this character as a way of showing an important truth, which is essentially the Joker’s truth: we are all capable of evil under the right circumstances. The Joker, and the devil, personify the circumstances under which we are all capable of being villains.

As a point of clarification, I am not saying that this means the devil isn’t real. (To be fair, I’m also not NOT saying that.) For a more detailed understanding of my theology on this matter, refer back to my Credo. What I want to say is that a biblical understanding of the devil is a lot like the way we understand the Joker; less as an external villain and more as a way of remembering that, given the right circumstances, WE are the villain.

The final scene with the Joker shows how true this is. Batman had focused all his attention on catching the Joker and finally does, but this was not the Joker’s final play. The Joker had placed the criminals and the citizens of Gotham in two separate boats, each rigged to explode, and each given the trigger for the other boat. The citizens, and the criminals(!), foil this plan, showing the Joker (devil) that they were ready to make the right choice. But what’s interesting is that Batman had no way to help them make that choice, short of his reputation and the inspiration that he had caused to that point. Batman was trying to fight the devil and trying to keep his own soul intact, but not even a superhero can stop the spread of evil in a world where even he could become the villain.

I wonder how often we as Christians play up the superstition of “the devil”. Whatever we believe about this strange biblical character, I think it can be risky to take the devil too seriously on its own merit. We ought to take VERY seriously this idea that we are all capable of evil. Far too often, it’s easy to believe that there are “good people” and there are “bad people”.

What’s funny about this belief is that nobody has ever believed this and simultaneously believed themselves to be the “bad people”. Perhaps the essential misunderstanding about evil in this world is the idea that “there are good people, there are bad people; I am a good person, you are a bad person”. Substitute “I” for “We” and “You” for “You all/They”, and you’ve just diagnosed every war in human history.

The terrorists behind 9/11 didn’t do it to “watch the world burn”. They did it because their religious belief said “We are the good guys, you are the bad guys, and therefore we have the right to kill you.”

Is Christianity any better? Though we may not always act like it, theologically the answer is Yes! Christianity recognizes that there are not simply good people and bad people, but that the line between good and evil runs between each and every one of us. We are all capable of great good and great evil. Circumstances push us into situations where we ultimately have to make choices about which of those we value more highly.

This is where our premise disagrees with the Joker’s, though. The Joker’s ultimate goal is to prove that everyone is as sick as he is. I personally have a higher view of humanity than this… but there is certainly a discussion to be had with human nature, depravity, the image of God, etc. Feel free to discuss this further in the comments!

We as Christians would do well to take the Joker seriously on this matter. If we are not careful, we may become the villain. Our theology of evil is not one about good forces and bad forces like the old Greek myths or the star wars movies. Our theology is about people who make choices and face the outcome of those choices. We can become a hero, or we can become a villain. Or, we could do worse, and never care enough to be either, and let the harsh circumstances of life force us into villainy we never thought ourselves capable of. And the way of the hero is, as the movie says, death. Jesus says the way of the cross is foolishness and death.

But what happens after the death of the hero? What about resurrection? These are themes that are explored in the third movie, but we’re not quite done with this movie. Because I’m not convinced that Batman “dies a hero”, or is even a hero at the end of this movie. The question for the next post is, does good or evil win at the end of this movie, and what does that mean for us?

I had the enormous privilege of getting to watch the entire Dark Knight Trilogy in IMAX on opening night of The Dark Knight Rises last week. Truly one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I can therefore not resist the urge to do a post of each of these movies, that, though being movies about Batman, are philosophically rich, and some of my favorite movies of all time.

I’m tempted to say that this is my favorite of the entire trilogy. No, it did not have the spine-tingling, award-winning performance of Heath Ledger like The Dark Knight. No, it didn’t have the hour-long visual spectacle of a conclusion like The Dark Knight Rises. But, from start to finish, this movie is perfection. It accomplishes everything it intends to, reintroduces a timeless character in a fresh and believable way, has charm and wit to spare, high emotion, and a timeless philosophical debate at its heart.

This is not the Batman of the 1960’s, with Adam West and onomatopoeias. It’s not the gotchic Batman of the 1990’s with Michael Keaton, or the campy wise-cracking Batman with villains who make puns out of their names for 90 minutes. Christian Bale, under the direction and scripting of the Nolans, creates a Bruce Wayne/Batman that is deeply realistic, motivated by a philosophically rich understanding of justice, and who experiences the kind of character development that makes the conclusion so satisfying.

Christopher Nolan gave one-word descriptions for the theme of each of his Batman films. The word for Batman Begins is “Fear”. The heart of the movie’s tension is in the use of fear. The League of Shadows, and the villain Scarecrow, use fear as means of making Gotham tear itself apart. Batman uses fear as a weapon as well, to give criminals something to be afraid of themselves. One of Batman’s greatest tools is deception, darkness and misdirection. People fear what they don’t understand, and Batman exploits this weakness amongst the depraved of Gotham.

While fear may be the primary the primary weapon of both the villains and the heroes, it is not the primary theme of the movie. “Fear” is not why the good guys and bad guys are fighting. Ultimately, this movie comes down to a fundamental disagreement about ethics. The villain, Ra’s Al Ghul, head of the League of Shadows, operates under a utilitarian ethic. This is most basically understood in the phrase “the ends justify the means”. This moral philosophy separates the actor and the action. Motivations, intentions, good-naturedness do not play a role here. The action that should be taken is the one that does the greatest good for the greatest number of people. This is why the character Ra’s Al Ghul and the League of Shadows are “immortal”, in a sense. It is not about who they are, or which person takes the role of Ra’s Al Ghul (translated “the Demon’s Head”), it is the ethic they embody that allows them to, for centuries, to execute their version of justice, which is to destroy civilizations that get out of control. Ra’s claims that the League has toppled Rome at the height of its depravity, among other nations throughout centuries. It is now Gotham’s turn. In their eyes, it is better to simply destroy the city, even if it means the loss of innocent lives. The ends, a world without corrupt Gotham, justifies the means, the destruction of an entire city and all its inhabitants.

Batman operates under a different ethic. During his training by the League of Shadows, Bruce is asked to kill a captured criminal, without knowing his crime and without “due process”. In the best line in the movie, Ra’s tells Bruce, “Compassion is a weakness your enemies will not share”, and Bruce/Batman replies, “That’s why it’s so important. It separates us from them.” Batman operates from a more Kantian ethic, which determines morality from the means rather than the ends. A common phrase you could associate with this would be something like, “It’s the principle of the matter!” Kantian ethics operate on moral principles, not situational circumstances.

What this movie ultimately asks, then, is: “Do the needs of the many outweigh the rights of the few?” This is not a debate easily settled, but the movie certainly takes its stance. Batman chooses to fight on behalf of the corrupt city, standing up for the scum and the innocent equally, as he believes that he can achieve redemption for Gotham City through more principled means. The redemption of Gotham is the goal to which the whole “Dark Knight Trilogy” aspires. Batman’s primary ethical instinct is that even a city as evil and lost as Gotham is worth saving, and that this saving can only be accomplished through ethical means. Batman has moral rules and principles, like not killing, that govern his behavior.

The story of this film then, beyond being an action movie with a superhero, is that true goodness and justice is principled, based on intentions and motives, rather than outcomes. The question for us, then, is does this story match up with the Christian story?

My first instinct, and another reason I love this movie, is that it does. In Matthew 5, in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus seems to take moral principles from the Old Testament and hone in on the motives and intentions that drive the actions. These are the statements where Jesus says, “You’ve heard it said… but I say to you….” Old Testament principles against killing are intensified, such that Jesus says it is just as wrong if a person harbors hate; hate being a motivator for murder. The Old Testament law against adultery is extended against the mere act of lusting, which is the motivation for adultery. Jesus clearly isn’t primarily concerned with the outward result, but with the inward character. It would seem that Jesus rejects a utilitarian ethic that would separate the person from the action. There is a direct correlation between the two, and Jesus chose to save the world through the actions of one person (himself), sacrificing rather than conquering, loving rather than condemning, and calls those who would be followers to do the same. God is about the formation of people who reflect the primary characteristic of love,and believes that even a depraved, corrupt earth can eventually be saved, and is, indeed, WORTH saving.

To start some interesting discussion, there’s an interesting story in the book of Genesis that shows an early struggle with this idea among the Jewish people. Most people are familiar with God’s destruction of Sodom, but less people are familiar with a story that is reported to us about a discussion between God and Abraham on the matter. While this story takes place before, in Genesis, to match the chronology, scholar Walter Brueggemann, among others, argue that this is a later tradition, meant to be a theological “corrective” to the story of the destruction of Sodom. Without this dialogue, we have an old story about God behaving a lot like the League of Shadows, destroying a city rather than saving it. But this dialogue gives us a different way to view the story, one in which Abraham presents a different view of ethics, and God *agrees* with Abraham. This passage is ripe with potential controversy, as the imagery in it plays out like a courtroom in which Abraham is the accuser, and God the accused, and God relents. This has profound implications on biblical study, intercessory prayer, and the development of theology throughout the Bible. I’m not ready to open this can of worms in a post about Batman, but this is a deeeeeeep text to dive into for discussion. How are we to understand this version of God, rebuked by Abraham for first suggesting a utlilitarian ethic, and persuaded to spare the innocent (Lot and his family are spared in this instance,)  with the words and life of Jesus, who would rather sacrifice himself than see the world destroyed? I think if we have to choose, we choose the image of Jesus, who is the fullness of the image of God. I would speculate that the image of God we are given in Genesis represents a community struggling with a God who is not yet fully revealed, not a clear picture like we have in Jesus. This does not mean this text is worthless. Quite the opposite: we see an evolution/development of theology throughout scripture fully revealed in Jesus. Perhaps the earliest struggle of the ethic of God plays out in this confusing way because we hadn’t quite figured out God yet. Feel free to sound off in the comments about this.

The moral tagline form Batman Begins: “It’s not who we are on the inside, it’s what we do that defines us.” A first read would make this sound like utilitarianism, but it actually unites the action with the person. “What we do” IS “who we are”, and conversely, “what we are” is “what we do”. Batman’s actions to save Gotham rather than destroy it come from a place of belief that compassion is better than hatred, redemption is better than destruction, and salvation is a hard earned battle, but a battle worth fighting. And I believe these are, essentially, Christian themes.

Anyone who follows me on Facebook knows I was excited to see this one… As a very frequent listener to pop radio, I’m very familiar with Katy Perry’s catchy tunes and would probably consider myself a fan of her.

And aren’t famous people fascinating? There’s this interesting phenomenon occurring lately, that these celebrities who seem larger than life are letting the public in a little more, and being rewarded for it. From reality tv to documentaries, our generation more than ever is seeing an “unmasked” version of our celebrities, and Hollywood should take notice, we like people who are real. Granted, we still only see what they’re willing to show us, but is that really so different from how we interact with the people around us? An interesting thought…

This movie brings up some very interesting questions for us. For those of you that aren’t aware, Katy Perry was raised in a highly conservative, Pentecostal Christian home. Her dad was a fiery traveling preacher. Katy herself was originally a gospel singer, before she went “mainstream”.

So what makes a person do that? How does a person go from Christian gospel singer to… well… Katy Perry? Because it’s becoming rather common amongst our generation to leave the church behind and never come back.

First, I want to suggest that the Christianity that Katy Perry was raised with is worth rejecting. Aside from “denominational” issues like being “slain in the spirit” that you see in the movie, Katy’s sister remarks that as children they weren’t allowed to eat Lucky Charms, because luck was from Lucifer.

I’ll be honest with you… If this was the Christianity I was raised on, I would probably not be a Christian still either. In fact, there are many aspects of the much-less-uptight Christianity I was raised on that I’ve rejected. I was fortunate, however, to be pursuing ministry and have great friend, family and teachers who helped me find a more satisfying (and True) version of Christianity to replace it with.

I find it sad that Katy Perry had this as her model for Christianity, and I really can’t blame her for leaving it behind. I would’ve too. It’s unfortunate that she has yet to find the God and Christ underneath it all that rejects out bad religion as outrightly as she did.

Katy makes a brief mention that she still believes in God, but not in the same ways as her parents. She says that she has a one-on-one relationship with God that isn’t anyone else’s business.

Sadly, I find this to be just another version of Christianity worth rejecting. The idea that one’s relationship to God is nobody’s business is remarkably unChristian, actually. This is not to say that we don’t each have a unique, personal relationship to God. I certainly believe this is true. But true Christian faith is intended to be experienced and lived out in community, in this thing called Church. In creation, the only thing God calls “not good” is for people to be alone. And I think it’s sad that Katy Perry has traded a bad church for a bad spirituality.

So that addresses her “spiritual” shift as the movie chronicles it, but what about her music? Katy at some point makes the shift from writing and singing gospel songs to writing and singing songs about relationships, parties, sex, and heartbreak.

The movie highlights a lot of tension in her song writing around “authenticity”. Katy wants to write songs that reflect how she truly feels, and there doesn’t seem to be a place for that in gospel music or in her first few labels.

(Side note: let’s not pretend that Katy Perry has “arrived” in this sense. While many of her songs are a lot deeper and honest than other pop songs, tracks like “California Gurls” and “Let Me See Your Peacock” are clearly nothing more than money grabs exploiting her sexuality, so it’s hard to accept her “high-ground” on this subject.)

However, she may have a point about Christian music. Personally, I stopped listening to Christian music about 4 years ago because I found it to be uninspired, unimpressive, and unoriginal. If you enjoy listening to Christian music and are encouraged, I don’t mean to insult your experience or your favorite bands. That’s just what I think.

But what I will say, and defend, is that “popular” Christian music does not allow for the whole of the Christian experience like the Bible does. Most Christian music sounds like (and is based on) the Psalms, many of which are exclamations of praise toward God from a position of optimism. But it doesn’t take long in the Bible to find other prose. Read Job, Ecclesiastes, Lamentations, or the other half of the Psalms (!) and you will see what I mean. The Bible (and God) allows for honest expressions of doubt, anger, desperation, and frustration at God. But does our music?

From what I’ve heard, it doesn’t. Maybe we shouldn’t sing negative songs during Praise and Worship at church, but shouldn’t the Christian music genre include such things if the Bible does? I’m afraid that if some lament psalms or passages from Ecclesiastes were put to music, KLOVE would not play them. And it’s unfair, and presents a one-dimensional Christianity, if music (which is one of the most profound ways we express ourselves) does not reflect our reality.

And the funny thing is, some Christians find music in touch with our experience on the other stations more often than on KLOVE. And I think that’s okay.

I personally don’t want to be the one to tell God that God can’t use secular music to teach us things or glorify God. Would the person willing to do so please stand up?

I think Christian music can learn a lesson from Katy Perry’s story. As a songwriter, she was unable to express the reality of her experience within the Christian music genre, and I think many listeners experience the same thing. The idea that there is “Christian” music at all seems a little limiting doesn’t it?

Just a few thoughts. Sound off in the comments and let’s talk about it!

Also, check out the new “Theology and Film” tab above to engage with me with other films.

This is the second post on the movie Prometheus. The first one explored why we shouldn’t rule out this movie based on its seemingly anti-Christian themes. This post will explore the movie itself, and hopefully show that this movie is not as unchristian as we might have preemptively assumed.

For starters, let’s address that this movie is overwhelmingly religious. From the title “Prometheus”, to the cross necklace around the main character’s neck, this movie is just dripping with religious imagery and symbolism. If you want to look further into this, this is an interesting article exploring that more: http://t.co/gCiS4m3j

There’s some interesting stuff there. I remain unconvinced that the movie is as smart as that article assumes. There are far too many plot holes and way too much nonsense in this movie for me to believe everything in that article is intentional. google “Prometheus plot holes” and you’ll see what I mean. And if you end up at this video (beware, LOTS of language), know that’s it’s not because I “recommended” it, but because you’re just lucky…

But even so, the movie is very much about religion and science, a debate most Christians and scientists (and Christian scientists) are not over. Scientists, in this movie, are motivated to learn more about human origins. They find evidence and are on a mission to learn more.

But what we see in this movie by the main character is not a mission to disprove faith. It’s simply a mission to find truth. Noomi Rapace’s character is actually deeply religious, clinging to her cross necklace despite her scientific discoveries.

And this is the point that is interesting, to me, theologically. I personally believe that science and faith can coexist happily and inform each other. I believe that science and faith, or even science and scripture, are out to answer different kinds of questions. Science asks questions like, “how does x happen”, or “what is the origin of x in light of the evidence”? Faith asks, and scripture tries to answer, different questions like “who are we?”, and “why are we here?” Science fails when it tries to answer existential questions, and, conversely, faith and scripture fails when it is used incorrectly to try to answer scientific questions. Genesis does not begin: “here is a scientific account of the actual way in which the universe came into existence”. Rather, Genesis begins with the theological affirmation that “in the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth”, am assertion that the earth and its inhabitants we’re created intentionally, with purpose, and infused with meaning.

Prometheus is a fantasy story about this tension. Rapace’s character, when finally confronted with one of the inventors, screams existential questions at it, only for the inventor to begin a killing spree without answering a single question. Turns out, our creators are incredibly violent and vengeful (and we’re supposed to believe they sent Jesus to teach us how to live? Come on, Ridley…)

And the conclusion of the film is especially telling. Rapace’s character has an opportunity to return home after alien attacks, having an alien squid baby ripped from her abdomen, and losing everyone she’s ever loved. Instead, she asks to go to the planet that the creators came from. Unsatisfied with her quest for meaning, she neglects her home and her health to pursue it further.

This movie can be an interesting parable for our search for meaning. The Prometheus traversed the universe for four years, when some of us would argue that the answer was around her neck the whole time. (Though Ridley’s suggestion that Jesus was one of the “inventors” subverts that meaning.) Science can tell us wonderful things about where we came from, what we’re made of, and in the process cure diseases and offer hope or a better future. And all of that is great. But there will never, CAN never, be a scientific discovery that answers the existential questions of “why?” And at some point, we all end up asking that question, and we all answer it in different ways. Prometheus is a movie about, ultimately, that question, and failing to answer it.

…Until the sequel.

Please, God, don’t let there be a sequel.