Having heard some high praise for the recent Frank Miller adaptation, 300, I trekked off to the theatre a few weekends ago to catch it myself. What followed was an interesting mix of emotions for me. I am usually easily able to suspend disbelief and enter into the world of a film, and it is indeed almost always my goal to do so when watching a film. But some films make that really really hard to do. Or maybe to put it more accurately; sometimes John Howard Yoder and Stanley Hauerwas make that really hard to do.

300 lacks nothing in stylistic cinematography or art direction. Every single frame lives in a creative land somewhere between Miller’s original comic book and modern day Photoshop art. The texture and style of the film exude a larger-than-life mythical quality that enhance the tale of 300 Spartans fighting off Xerxes’ vast armies. It is a story that can only be told in paintings and campfire tales, and in that regard 300 does exceedingly well.

Some have called 300 one-part Art Film one-part Action-Adventure war movie. I would agree, and the first part is done masterfully. But it’s that nagging issue of content that kept irking me about the second part of 300. While I was continually drawn into this Spartan world by the artistic beauty I was constantly ejected from it as I heard Yoder, Hauerwas and especially Jesus ringing in my ears.

The overtones of what Walter Wink calls “redemptive violence” are nowhere more pronounced than in 300. The Spartan culture while shown as a somewhat barbaric solider society is nonetheless glorified in perhaps every barbaric trait other than their systematic killing of “less than ideal” babies. While this is shown in a horrific light, the rest of their violent ways are glorified as essential parts of a “rational” and “democratic” society. The overtones connecting American culture and military (especially American Marines) to the Spartan warriors are obvious. King Leonidas’ wife, Gorgo lectures the politicians about the necessity for violence using today’s popular phrase “freedom isn’t free.” All these themes kept me from truly entering the movie. Instead I held it at arms length, thinking to myself, this is exactly what Jesus subverts in the Roman empire. This society built on violence, the culture that disciples its people in warfare no matter the personal cost to children and wives. The Roman empire Jesus lived under and was crucified by was heavily influenced by the Spartan legends and ethos. This is the same warrior-culture that the Gospel has a harsh judgment for, and while we have tended to privatize our war-making, we Americans buy into many of the same illusions that the Spartans did.

I kept trying to see where Christians would fit into this whole story (had they been around back then). I think that the Jesus people wouldn’t be caught dead on the side of Xerxes, the Persian emperor who called himself a God. The followers of Jesus wouldn’t march with the Persian army in it’s goal to conquer the world. But neither would the Jesus people devote their lives to being discipled as killing machines in the city of Sparta. The Spartan story of redemptive violence would be in direct conflict with the followers of Jesus who practiced redemptive suffering.

Purg and I caught Black Snake Moan a few weekends ago. This is the story of Lazarus (a man who’s wife has left him for his younger brother), Rae (a young girl who was abused as a child and now is literally an nymphomaniac) and ??? (Rae’s boyfriend who is eventually kicked out of boot camp for an anxiety disorder). If you haven’t seen the poster or TV spots, then you don’t know about one of the most interesting oddities of this film. Lazarus takes it upon himself to redeem Rae from her wicked and sad state, but his methods are not taken from any pastoral care and counseling class. No, Lazarus chains Rae to his radiator to keep her from running off on him and avoiding the “desert” she must travel in order to be transformed.

I really appreciated that Black Snake didn’t fall into a number of tired cliches about judgmental clergy or protagonist-redeemers who are misunderstood. Ben Witherington gives us some very good thoughts on the film here.

Just a word of warning, the film is pretty raw and gritty and earns it’s R rating. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone in high school or younger.

Kara and I saw Bridge to Terabitha a few weekends ago, thanks to Mike’s recommendation. What a surprisingly wonderful film! If your kids aren’t old enough to sit through Pan’s Labyrinth, Terabithia may well be a great alternative. I was particularly drawn into the story of a young boy named Jesse who lives in the country and have a love for drawing. Reminds me of someone I know…

Jesse deals with what most kids do, bullies and the like. But this school year Jesse meets an interesting new girl named Leslie who just happens to live next door to him. Leslie is a poet. Together the artist and the poet learn to use their imaginations to build a whole new kingdom in the forest where bullies can be bested in battle. The imaginary kingdom of Terabitha begins to inform the real life world at school that Jesse and Leslie encounter everyday. They are able to draw on their imaginations to change things at school in some really redemptive ways.

One day Leslie invites herself to Church with Jesse’s family and during the service she is enthralled by the stories and the stained glass. In the truckride home she says “that whole Jesus thing is very interesting isn’t it?” The conversation that ensues between Leslie, Jesse and his younger sister May Belle is priceless. Leslie says these insightful words after May Belle and Jesse proclaim that you have to go to church and believe the bible or you’ll burn in hell… “You have to believe it and you hate it. I don’t have to believe it and I think its beautiful.”

Amen.

What is required for salvation? We often answer this differently than Jesus did…

Check out this article at Christianity Today.
“Jesus and the Sinner’s Prayer”

via Mike King

Oh wait… actually Ben Witherington offers a genuine and generous critique of Velvet Elvis while completely affirming Rob Bell’s theology, direction and ministry. Oh that we would all learn to be this generous in our “sharpening” of each other.

Check out Witherington’s post here.

From Catholic Anarchy