Monday, March 13, 2017

On Callery Pears, Blind Squirrels, and "The Shack"

Tiny white blossoms stand out against an azure, late winter sky. Stunningly beautiful, but in this case, not good news. Is it a Callery pear tree? Indications are good, based on the evidence and presence of nearby Bradfords.


North American Christianity is 3,000 miles wide and half an inch deep.
— J.I. Packer, "The Quest for Godliness"


I was struck by how crisp the morning air felt as I traipsed down the road from the house. Winter has been especially mild this year, and I'm inclined to think this may mark the last true cold front of the season. Normally I go hiking when the weather is much warmer. My fear is that Callery pear trees are invading the land on which I reside, and I took the opportunity early in the growing season to snap a few pictures to assist in confirming my suspicions.

Much like kudzu, Japanese honeysuckle, starlings, and gobies, Callery pears are an especially insidious invasive species. To label them as a "Frankenpear" is to give a backhanded compliment. While Bradford pears are sterile—they produce no fruit, hence their use as ornamentals—their pollen can still create hybrids with viable pear trees. 

After Bradfords were introduced a century ago, an attempt was made to strengthen their genetically weak branch structures by creating stronger ornamental hybrids, such as the Cleveland Select. This well-intended effort to provide beauty and convenience for landscaping has left farmers and forestry officials with a looming, costly problem: fast-growing, native-hardwood-choking, invasive trees that have reverted back to their genetic roots (no pun intended). As these hybrids regress genetically through subsequent generations, their offspring regain the capacity to bear fruit.

The seeds are typically spread by starling droppings. Having a pervasive root structure, Callery pears can also grow thorns strong enough to puncture tractor tires. Dense thickets result; clearing acreage of such trees typically requires a bulldozer with steel tracks. Some state governments are now requesting farmers and landowners call a hotline in order to track the spread.

What price beauty?

This past Saturday, other than a morning faculty in-service at the Bible college where I teach, my afternoon schedule was completely free. Curiosity had gotten the best of me, so I took some time to go see a matinee of The Shack. I read the book years ago. It's been a long enough time that I've forgotten most of it.

The late Francis Schaffer (1912-1984) spoke often about how Christianity offers a framework of interpretation for culture, including music, art, and movies. This line of thinking was much of a surprise to me when I first encountered it in assigned reading as a graduate student; growing up in the semi-rural Appalachians, the culture of folk Christianity typically doesn't lend itself to intellectual pursuits. Per Schaffer:
To the new theology, the usefulness of a symbol is in direct proportion to its obscurity. There is connotation, as in the word god, but there is no definition. The secret of the strength of neo-orthodoxy is that these religious symbols with a connotation of personality give an illusion of meaning, and as a consequence it appears to be more optimistic than secular existentialism. (The God Who is There, p. 60, from Trilogy, 1990.)

The cast of The Shack (left to right): Avraham Aviv Alush (as Jesus); Sam Worthington (as Mack Phillips, the protagonist); Octavia Spencer (as one of two actors portraying Papa / God the Father); and Sumire Matsubara (as Sarayu / the Holy Spirit).

If one studies Christian theology and church history long enough, the influence of various authors becomes obvious in stories such as The Shack. The ghost of Paul Tillich and his theology looms over this movie. Interestingly enough, echoes of Martin Luther's relationship to his father are embodied in the character of Mack Phillips and his relationship with his father in the film.

As a cinephile—a person who loves movies—I watch for more than just the storyline. Art direction is something I try to discern, and the color palette of this film functioned much as I expected: at the moment the film makes its leap from being slightly plausible to becoming fantasy allegory, the colors onscreen change dramatically as well. (One of my favorite subjects to discuss when teaching graphic design to college students is the psychology of color. The film's art direction wrings forth an emotionally manipulative color schema at important plot points.)

This film is certainly crafted to elicit emotions; at times, I could hear movie goers throughout the theater sobbing. I've had a chance to discuss the film with a number of friends who also saw it. There is one common denominator which each of them has brought up: this film seems to convey the depth and richness of God's love for His children.

I should be more specific in my description: The Shack is an attempted theodicy in the form of an allegory. It is lush and visually stunning; however. . . .

What lies beneath?

Callery pear trees are quite attractive with tiny, five-petaled white flowers. The issue isn't the beauty; the issue is a matter of discernment, and awareness of just what the viewer is seeing. Beneath the surface is something with the potential to be rampantly destructive. The definition of heresy is this: belief contrary to orthodox Christian doctrine. This film has plenty lurking in the shadows. (To find a comprehensive list of the heresies in the film, click here. For a list of heresies in the book, click here.)

This film focuses on drawing out, and subsequently dealing with, feelings. Emotions, however, are not always an indicator of truth. Granted, the film does portray one thing well—namely, the love of the Father for His children. But as my friend Pastor Mike says, "Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn now and then."

Anyone with a basic knowledge of the Gospels and the words of Jesus will pick up the contradictory dialogue. If Jesus is fully God, and God cannot lie, then anything that contradicts what Jesus has said must be false. There is no escaping the law of non-contradiction.

I have a theory of why a glorified Hallmark Channel movie is emotionally overwhelming to some believers, and was actually reminded of it earlier in the day at the faculty in-service: learning styles of Americans are now skewing to visual and kinesthetic, and away from auditory. The powerful imagery of this movie, combined with a viewer's emotions, can suddenly connect-the-dots for someone who may never have fully appropriated the depth of God's love. (One would think the beauty and simplicity of the Gospel would have that effect, but I'm trying to avoid being overtly cynical. And regarding suffering and evil, there's a reason the story of Joseph in Genesis, Job, Ecclesiastes, Lamentations, certain Psalms, the teachings of Jesus, and Paul's personal experiences have been preserved for our benefit.)

Because one emotional positive does not outweigh a myriad of heretically troubling underpinnings, I can't recommend the movie. But due to my time spent in counseling, I am fully cognizant that many will be drawn to seeing it. Being an apologist, I felt compelled to go view it, so I can't condemn anyone else for seeing it lest I condemn myself (cf. Romans 2:14,15). (If the production photo of the actors shown above is offensive in what it conveys to you, you really do not want to go see this film.)

My hope is that those who have seen it will at least choose to discuss the movie with a pastor, teacher, apologist, or perhaps in a small group. Heresies are nothing new to Christianity; after all, the Gnostic gospels serve as testimony to that. Friendly conversations about the film go a long way in avoiding future problems: much like Callery pears, better to root out the dangers now rather than later.

* * *

Postscript: the plotline of The Shack seems to borrow directly, and extensively, from the plot of a nearly-80-year-old fantasy movie that is shown regularly on both broadcast and cable television.



Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Jesus, President Obama, Trigger Warnings, and "Never Taste Chemicals"

As my son entered his junior year of high school, the requisite number of start-of-school release forms and acknowledgments seemed to grow exponentially. I don't recall having to mutually sign a form with my parents regarding whether I bothered to read the syllabus or not. Many things were just assumed back in the day — if the school or its personnel generate it, action is required. It was on his science class syllabus and lab rules that the phrase caught my attention:
Never taste chemicals.
You'd think such would be painfully obvious, but there it is. Because some citizens occasionally deny what is obvious — including reality itself — these things are necessary these days. And yet, what isn't obvious in all the paperwork, is the presupposition underlying it all:
It isn't that we don't trust your kids not to do something stupid. We're terrified your kid will actually do something stupid, and you'll sue us for his or her stupidity.
I've had great conversations with my own kids about why this paperwork is "necessary." Schools have now had to protect themselves from the mentality of a society that rewards participation and hands out trophies just for showing up. It's sad when a pro football player has to point out the obvious and it seems like a breath of fresh air on a stifling day. (He wasn't without his critics, though.)

In counseling, I've sat across the table from folks who have been through some horribly traumatic experiences. To hear their stories can be difficult. But one thing stands out between them and something I've noticed while teaching college classes: having your beliefs challenged is not the same thing as being emotionally traumatized. I fear our society is losing that distinction.

The Atlantic ran a recent editorial that captures that particular notion quite well. A "trigger warning" is, by definition, an announcement to listeners of a lecture (or viewers of a video) that material is included that could trigger emotional distress. It has become a matter of concern on many college campuses that trigger warnings should be given by professors if the material they cover may be upsetting to someone in their class. (God forbid someone needs a trigger warning for trigger warnings. Talk about an infinite regress.)

Way back in the day, in one of my design classes, I had my head buried in my ever-present sketchbook. Good ideas can be fleeting and need to be recorded if and when they strike. My professor unfortunately misinterpreted my focus as disinterest, and his words to me were quite blunt:
Phillips, you're really starting to piss me off.
In this day and age on college campuses, such a comment would clearly be deemed a microaggression; I doubt any professor these days would feel free enough to make such a statement for fear of student reprisals. (Just prior to graduation, at an end-of-year department banquet, my professor and I actually shared a laugh about the experience; he claimed that as soon as the words left his mouth, it dawned on him that, in his words, "You're twice as big as I am." I responded by saying, "I've been insulted by littler men than you." I wonder where he was when he caught exactly what I meant.)

However, I sense the onslaught of trigger warnings is not to protect students from emotional distress, but is actually an effort to add another layer of protection for the faculty. If comedians such as Jerry Seinfeld will no longer play college campuses for fear of political correctness, heaven forbid a student should have their thinking challenged through cognitive dissonance and Socratic teaching methods.

Thinking critically about tough issues is not the same as enduring emotional trauma. We've become a nation where emotions drive our actions; the reality is this: emotions are not an indicator of truth. I personally was never the fastest runner, or the best baseball player, or the best shot in basketball. Some folks are physically gifted. God bless 'em. There's no emotional distress in those words; it is an accurate depiction of reality. Constructive criticism is not hate speech.

President Obama even mentioned his concern this week. In an address at Des Moines, Iowa, he went on record with the following, using specifically the word "coddling" when describing today's crop of college students:
I've heard some college campuses where they don't want to have a guest speaker who is too conservative or they don't want to read a book if it has language that is offensive to African-Americans or somehow sends a demeaning signal towards women. I gotta tell you, I don't agree with that either. I don't agree that you, when you become students at colleges, have to be coddled and protected from different points of view. I think you should be able to — anybody who comes to speak to you and you disagree with, you should have an argument with 'em. But you shouldn't silence them by saying, "You can't come because I'm too sensitive to hear what you have to say." That's not the way we learn, either.
We now live in a culture where merely describing reality is designated as microaggression. Bernie Sanders just spoke at Liberty University. Inviting a progressive socialist to a conservative evangelical university would seem to invite trouble in this day and age — especially at a school where attendance at such events can be mandatory. But things were civil, much as to be expected, at a school where behavior is an outgrowth of the university's student code of conduct. The students had questions, as expected. It is actually good for everyone concerned, and here is why.

Jesus Himself is the ultimate in cognitive dissonance: to the rich, He is a threat to their money. To the overly religious and the self-centered, He points out their good works cannot save them. To the atheist, He has some good moral teachings, but He isn't divine. To those who view Him as myth, He forces them to deny the reality of history. To those who view marriage as merely a social construct, His words can be discarded. He is singularly the ultimate stumbling block to every person born: accept His words as truth, or face the consequences of the decision to dismiss them.

Cognitive dissonance allows a person to sharpen their own beliefs. It shouldn't be feared; it should be encouraged. We should be asking one another Socratic questions about abortion, divorce, marriage, euthanasia, taxes, metaphysics, ethics, economics, environmental responsibilities, and the meaning of life. Sheltering yourself from challenging your thinking is to deny the reality of the world we live in. (Just wait a couple decades when this current group of college students starts obtaining positions of power. Yeehaw!)

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Jesus, County Clerks, and Oaths of Office

It's much like watching a car wreck: how the Federal Court will decide the fate of Kim Davis, Rowan County (KY) Clerk. There seem to be a number of issues in play here, as all sides have a vested interest in the matter. Here's the irony in the entire affair: if a person follows Christ, there really is no halfway—you're either all in or not. There is no picking or choosing of what He had to say for the sake of convenience.

The forgotten precedence is this: Jesus gave a strong command in the Sermon on the Mount to not take oaths. It reads as such:
Again, you have heard that it was said to an older generation, 'Do not break an oath, but fulfill your vows to the Lord.' But I say to you, do not take oaths at all—not by heaven, because it is the throne of God, not by earth, because it is his footstool, and not by Jerusalem, because it is the city of the great King. Do not take an oath by your head, because you are not able to make one hair white or black. Let your word be 'Yes, yes' or 'No, no.' More than this is from the evil one. (Matthew 5:33-37, NET)
There are those who will want to digress into arguments as to whether the Sermon on the Mount is a sermon to Jews or to Jews and Gentiles combined, or whether this is an Old Covenant (pre-cross) sermon or a sermon looking forward to the New Covenant. I'm going to set those aside, because this isn't guidance on Levitical ceremonial rules, but a clarification of Leviticus 19:12, offset in single quote marks in the preceding quote; this is a moral entreaty that goes back to the Decalogue (the seminary term for the 10 Commandments).

Jesus was "tightening down," if you will, on the fact that many children of God were attempting to invoke God in the taking of an oath. The problem is, if one invokes an oath using God's name and breaks it, you have just made God party to a lie. Hence the commandment of not taking the Lord's name in vain (Exodus 20:7). Folk Christianity / Churchianity has replaced that meaning with a command against the language of cursing and "cuss words." As well-intended as that might be, it's terribly shallow, and shows a distinct ignorance of biblical culture and biblical knowledge.

For the record, here is the Oath of Office Kim Davis took, most likely with her hand resting on a Bible:
I do solemnly swear [or affirm, as the case may be] that I will support the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution of this Commonwealth, and be faithful and true to the Commonwealth of Kentucky so long as I continue a citizen thereof, and that I will faithfully execute, to the best of my ability, the office of [...] according to law; and I do further solemnly swear [or affirm] that since the adoption of this present Constitution, I, being a citizen of this State, have not fought a duel with deadly weapons within this State nor out of it, nor have I sent or accepted a challenge to fight a duel with deadly weapons, nor have I acted as second in carrying a challenge, nor aided or assisted any person thus offending, so help me God. (Kentucky Constitution, Section 228, revised September 28, 1891)
Now the problem can be seen for what it is. And it isn't the fact that Kentucky still prohibits dueling with deadly weapons to this day. When the Pharisees attempted to corner Jesus regarding Caesar, coins, and taxes, Jesus pointed out that the Roman Emperor was going to extract his pound of flesh from everyone (yes, my paraphrase of the pericope beginning in Matthew 22:15.) It is inescapable for Christians in any society. Because the United States is not a Christian theocracy—as much as some folks like to pretend it is—there will always be friction between the laws of a secular society and the laws of God. It cannot be any other way.

I'm not attempting to throw stones with this statement; I'm a big a hypocrite as anyone else sitting in a church pew. But the obvious truth seems to be this: Kim Davis has brought this upon herself. God didn't do it; Jesus didn't do it; the Commonwealth of Kentucky didn't do it. Ms. Davis took a public oath, invoked the name of God—against the better recommendations of Jesus—and is now paying the price in both the courts of public opinion as well as the U.S. District Court in Ashland, Kentucky. God is no more obligated to bail out Kim Davis than the person who jumps in a barrel to go over Niagara Falls and cries out for protection halfway down. Proceed at your own risk in such games.

We all know how this is going to play out. The reality of the situation is this: Jesus doesn't play around. If a person is going to follow Him, be prepared to suffer the slings and arrows of interaction between what is secular and what is sacred, based upon the choices you make.

Edit: clarified the quotation in Matthew.