Film and Theology | Thor

A (Made) Family on Mission

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. – 1 Peter 2:9-10

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith (family of believers). – Galatians 6:9-10

Just in case you have been living under a rock for the past few years, I just wanted to let everyone know that there is a huge movie opening this weekend. One that has been 4 years in the making, ever since Iron Man was first introduced to the big screen in 2008. It was then followed by big screen versions of the Hulk, Thor, and Captain America; now, they are all coming together in one big movie, The Avengers. With the exception of Thor, each of these movies tell the story of extremely gifted, yet flawed, humans literally being “born again” into a new reality, complete with new powers, new identities, and new desires and passions. With The Avengers, we now get to explore the idea of not only being born into a new life, but being born into a new family, which is ultimately what I hope The Avengers is all about. What is going to follow is not a review, as I haven’t seen the movie yet, but what I hope to see unfold before me on the big screen when I do see it, being familiar with the directors work.

The man at the helm of this huge undertaking is none other than Joss Whedon, who cut his teeth in the comic industry writing for The Astonishing X-Men, and along the way created, wrote for, and directed some of the most memorable TV shows and films of the past decade, including Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly, Serenity, and most recently, Cabin in the Woods. One of the common themes that runs throughout all his work are these questions of: “Can we ever be truly free?” and, “Do people need to be free?” This determinism is particularly on display with the characters in Firefly and Serenity, as they battle with the Alliance. We see them struggle against what seems like the simple right…to be wrong. Having the freedom to make “bad” decisions, then living with the consequences of those decisions, is ultimately what Malcolm Ryenolds and his crew are after in this space opera.

A self-proclaimed atheist and absurdist, Whedon is also on record as saying that he loves and is enamored with the idea of what he calls a “made” family. A family that isn’t born and bound by blood, but a family that is brought together by circumstance, and relationship, and the oppression that they are facing. This “made” family is then bound and united by that. They actually grow to be a stronger family than your typical nuclear family because some sort of fate or conspiracy has brought them together. You see this on display in Buffy especially, as Whedon seems to assert that the idea of someone with superhuman powers functioning outside of a social context, or community, is both outdated, and even dangerous. Buffy is only successful because she relies on a support groups of friends and family to make it through life, rather than following the solo slayer route that has traditionally characterized the job description.

I think the Galatians verse at the top of the page is an appropriate verse in light of The Avengers opening this weekend, and this idea of a “made” family purported by Whedon. It paints a picture of a family that we, as Christians, belong too; a family that has come together with united purpose and mission. It’s also understood in this verse that life is going to be a long and hard road, and this world is full of toil, difficulty, endurance, patience, sin, and destruction. All of this pain is what we witness in Whedon’s TV, film, and comics; and although we may not think about it while watching Hulk smash aliens on the big screen, if we look back on the characters he unfolds for us, we perhaps can empathize with the pain, and emptiness, and loneliness, and trials that the characters in The Avengers might go through. His characters might cause us to think about ourselves. Think about the friends in our lives right now. Think about those we know who are in hurt and pain. Those who are divorced, or going thru a divorce. Those who have lost a spouse, or a parent, or child. Just like it will be portrayed in The Avengers, life is hard. Life is painful, and sometimes we get tired and weary.

This scripture encourages us that we will be weary, and we will be tired, and the admonishen is for us to simply to be together with one another. For us to encourage one another, and to do good to each other so that we can overcome that sense of weariness, and pain, and misery, so that we can actually endure together as a family of believers. And just like The Avengers, we don’t just want to be a blessing to each other, but a blessing to the whole world. We will hopefully see them develop an internal family mission to each other, and an external mission to the people of the world; and by the end of this movie, a loner character (my money is on Tony Stark) will come to fully understand and endorse this. He will become truly transformed.

So as you sit in an air-conditioned theater, with a tub of buttery popcorn goodness, and watch some of the most colorful comic book characters come to life, asks yourself what it means to not only be “born again” into a new singular identity, but what it means to become part of a family? What does it mean to come to love that family? What does it mean to understand that sense of mission and purpose, both to each other, and to the world?

If the idea of exploring theology through film intrigues you, or if you are a comic book nerd like me and look for any excuse to talk about comics, then join us Friday, May 11, as we watch and discuss Kenneth Branagh’s 2011 take on the Norse God of Thunder, Thor.

Film and Theology | Inception

Film and Theology | Music from the Inside Out

Cloudy With a Chance of Idolatry

The human heart is an idol factory that takes good things like a successful career, love, material possessions, even family, and turns them into ultimate things. Our hearts deify them as the center of our lives, because, we think, they can give us significance and security, safety and fulfillment, if we attain them. – Timothy J. Keller in Counterfeit Gods: The Empty Promises of Money, Sex, and Power, and the Only Hope that Matters

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. – Colossians 3:1-5

Ever since our oldest son was old enough to enjoy watching kids movies, our family movie nights have never been the same. From Monsters Inc., to Robots, to Cars, to Wall-e, to Kung-Fu Panda: many a Friday night has been spent watching these movies and letting their themes and world views seep into our conscience. And while they may be marketed towards kids, many of the themes these “cartoons” deal with are not just kid oriented, but things that many of us struggle with long into adulthood. One of our favorite movies we enjoy watching with our kids is Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, based on the kids book of the same name.

It’s always a challenge to take a well-loved story and adapt it to film. Often it involves cutting much of the story (as in all the Harry Potter films) to make the film a manageable length. Fans of the books often poo-poo such changes, but in the case of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, cutting isn’t the issue; rather, the book is so small, with so little actual plot, to make a film requires adding a great deal to the narrative. Directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller both count Ron and Judi Barrett’s best-selling book among their favorites from childhood, but in making the film they had to completely reinvent much of the book, and although the film is different than the book, the sense of absurdity that makes the book so enjoyable is still central.

The book is a simple story about a land where weather takes the form of food. Over time, this becomes a problem, forcing the population of Chewandswallow to leave their homes. The film has that simple narrative at its core, but has developed an entire story to explain how that phenomenon came to be: the work of a nerdy inventor, Flint Lockwood, who just wants to make the world a better place. His inventions through the years have been busts, but his latest machine makes food out of water, and when it goes crazy and ends up in the clouds above the island, it begins to rain delicious food of his choosing: hamburgers, hot dogs, and bacon and eggs just to name a few. Covering this story for the Weather News Network is Sam Sparks, a weather intern who sees this as her big break. As you can guess, by the end of the film she and Flint have put their minds together to save the world from the food machine run amok, as well as develop a relationship

Whereas the book is a simple tale of imagination and fun, the film provides a platform to explore some pretty significant themes, and along the way the story also gives us something of a basic introduction to sin. I found it interesting that almost every character in this movie displayed some sort of sinful attitude that brought complications to the story. Whether it’s Baby Brent’s hubris, the Mayor’s greed, or Flint’s pride, the sinful nature on display in this movie ultimately brings sorrow to all the residents of Chewandswallow.

In the case of Flint, he initially believes that he has saved his community, only to find out that he has placed them in danger when his “good” thing is taken too far and becomes “bad.” This illustration alone is one of the most convincing images in the movie of the power of sin and idolatry in our lives. Something that was created for good is taken too far by our fallen human nature, only to eventually cause our downfall.

As a Christian, I believe that sin and idolatry is anything more important to you than God, anything that absorbs your heart and imagination more than God, and anything you seek to give you what only God can give. An idol could be anything so central and essential to your life that, should you lose it, your life would feel hardly worth living. Basically, if anything becomes more fundamental than God to your happiness, meaning in life, and identity, then it is an idol. Idols in our lives can be complicated to identify, as they can be personal, cultural, and even intellectual. They can be interwoven in our theology, our politics, our race, our nationality, our relationships, our religion, our philosophies, and our culture. The idols then drive our motivations and temperaments.

But simply understanding, identifying, and removing idols is not enough. They must be replaced, and the verse in Colossians above shows us how. Idols (sin) must be uprooted by repentance, and replaced with rejoicing in Jesus Christ alone as our ultimate and only true fulfillment. This process, however, will not happen overnight, as this is something that our sinful natures will struggle with our entire lives.

The mayor’s greed for power not only literally sinks him in the end, but pushes Baby Brent into an iconic and self-destructive status. Baby Brent in turn finds himself driven by the pleasure he experiences from the adoration of others. The rest of the town, upon experiencing the “manna from heaven,” longs for more and more and is never satisfied. Whether it’s food, or adoration, or power, or fame, humanity as experienced in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs can never achieve happiness through the “good” things they strive for.

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs is a terrific movie for you next family movie night. It has plenty of action and humor for kids and adults alike, while also delivering a few poignant lessons for the whole family. Whether you walk away from the movie having loved the budding romance between Flint and Sam, or preferring the developing understanding of fatherly love between Flint and his father; or whether you can see the lure of the devilish mayor and the temptation to succumb, or the longing for acceptance within community, or the temptation to seek things that only God can give, you can’t miss the lessons that the movie affords all of us.

The Gospel of Superheroes

Jesus Christ, the condescension of divinity and the exaltation of humanity – Philip Brooks, Puritan, from Vintage Jesus

History is filled with men who would be gods…but only one God who would be man. – John Woodbridge, Research Professor of Church History and the History of Christian Thought at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School

To [Jesus Christ] the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen. – 1 Timothy 1:17

In preparing for the next Superhero Summer event, I recently stumbled upon an old interview with graphic novel writer Frank Miller, and directors Guillermo Del Toro and Zack Snyder. The question posed to these gentleman was simply if they perceived any ”spiritual trend in today’s comic book heroes and movies?”

“Every great civilization has its superheroes,” says Miller. “America is just a much, much younger civilization…You couldn’t find a better version, in America, of the Pantheon of ancient Greece [than superheroes],” which could be why they’re such an enduring draw. Del Toro seconds the point: “There is still a longing for mythos, for a spiritual Pantheon. And in an era where we have enshrined materialism to such a degree and we have killed off every conceit that seems to be weak and based on religion-New Age, all those types of things-the only sort of acceptable mythology, I think, is superhero mythology.”

That may sound like comic-book-nerd hyperbole, but the comparison with Greek mythology is actually relevant, to a point. For one thing, to the ancients, preposterous tales of heroic feats were not to be taken literally. “It’s not that they were ‘believed,’” says Harvard Classics Professor Gregory Nagy. “That is a Christian concept. Rather, myths about heroes were accepted as valid narratives about moral truths that helped explain life.”

There’s so much in this short snippet that I don’t even know where to start. I think we can all agree that there are those among us who want nothing to do with traditional religion. The idea of God as a sovereign and all-powerful being is somewhat less attractive than a picture of divinity that emphasizes humanness. Aside from the massive explosions, cool graphics, and technological gadgetry, one reason that so many people may be flocking to superhero films is that they tap into a current of spirituality. People want heroes who are unlike them, heroes who can vanquish their enemies; and yet they also want heroes who are like them, who have real flaws, and weaknesses; real struggles, and battles. The Greek gods fit this description millennia ago, and comic book superheroes fit it today.

But what does this mean for you and I, and especially the Church? One thing that comes to mind is that while teaching unbelievers about our sovereign God, we need to keep in mind that people are looking for a person who is both like them, and not like them. For Christians, this person is Jesus Christ. Now I am not saying that Jesus had flaws or sins, he did not; however, what I am saying is that he took on human flesh, embraced the difficulties of an authentic human existence, and faced terrible temptation, suffering, and pain, just as we all do, even as he was powerful to an extent that still confounds my imagination. The doctrine of Christ’s humanity is not a theological afterthought, or a footnote to the more wondrous stuff. It is a strange, mysterious, and quite moving aspect of the faith we claim.

Though we may not fully comprehend the wonder of it all, Jesus became like us in order to save us (see Hebrews 2:1-18 and Hebrews 4:1-16). He is a glorious Lord, and he will return to this world in flaming majesty to judge it in a level of spectacle no movie will ever be able to present. Yet he was also a human being, one who wept, and hurt, and bled. He knows the sorrows of this earth, having become intimately acquainted with them in His incarnation. The people around us do not need an Iron Man, Superman, Batman, or any other superhero. What they need is a real Savior, a real Messiah, Jesus; and the good news is that Christ has come, and died, and for those who believe in Him, he exchanges our brokenness for his life; our weakness with his strength; and ultimately our sinfulness with his righteousness.

Plan on joining us on Friday, August 5th, at 6:00 p.m., at Mary Munford Elementary, for our final Superhero Summer event as we take a look at one of the most “human” of our current crop of superheroes.

Harry Potter and the Whispers of Christ

“Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?” Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry’s ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure. “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

I like this quote from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which comes at the end of the “King’s Cross” chapter. I like it because it serves as a defense for the Harry Potter phenomenon, and for all fantasy-fiction literature as well.

My family loves to read. Our oldest is just now able to sit down and read books himself, and my wife and I continue to read books to all the boys. My wife likes to read fantasy-fiction type books, and I like to read more theological-type books. Occasionally, I like to read a good fantasy/adventure fiction book, or what I have affectionately termed “The Cracker,” which helps me “cleanse the palate” before I undertake another series of theological-type books. Some of my favorite fiction writers include James Rollins, Matthew Reilly, and yes, J. K. Rowling. Now I know that I am a little late entering this debate, but in anticipation of the opening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, this weekend, I wanted to pen some of my observations on this particular series of books, and really comment on all fantasy literature in the process. Be warned, there are spoilers below based on the book.

I believe that we as evangelicals owe J. K. Rowling an apology. Since the final book in the series was published, I have not seen a single apology to J. K. Rowling from any of the various evangelical and fundamentalist bashers. Why no apologies to the lady? First, it’s always tough to say you’re sorry. But deeper than that, could it be that many of us fail to see the Christianity in the Harry Potter novels, because we know so little about Christianity itself? Truth be told, the gospel stories themselves, the various metaphors and figures of the Law and the Prophets, and their echoes down through the past two millennia of Christian literature and art, are largely unknown to vast swaths of American Christendom.

I can certainly understand being cautious about messages sent to young people, but Harry Potter is quite literally the most powerful positive influence, and Christ figure, many young people in the English speaking world will have encountered in the past 10 years. But instead of discerning that, and fostering the themes and messages it contains in our churches, and instead of taking that seed and watering it, we’ve turned our backs on it, and castigated the author as a villain.

About twelve years ago, Joanne Rowling was asked whether she is a Christian. Her answer:

Yes I am. Which seems to offend the religious right far worse than if I said I thought there was no God. Every time I’ve been asked if I believe in God, I’ve said yes, because I do, but no one ever really has gone any more deeply into it than that, and I have to say that does suit me, because if I talk too freely about that I think the intelligent reader, whether 10 or 60, will be able to guess what’s coming in the books. – October 26, 2000, interview with Max Wyman from the Vancouver Sun

On this point, I disagree with her: I honestly don’t think we would have guessed the ending. Most of us can’t recognize the ending of the story even after it’s been told. Just as reading the Old Testament gives clues to what will eventually happen when Jesus comes on the scene, it is only when all the pieces are put together that the picture is formed and makes sense. Rowling’s masterstroke is similarly ambiguous at first, but as the pages go by in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, the final picture is revealed as an epic battle of good and evil, with good having the upper hand on the last page. This is why it is dangerous to have preconceived judgments about situations, individuals, or books, for one could be made to look quite foolish in the process. And to that end, apologies are necessary.

J. K. Rowling may not be as articulate or exact a writer as C. S. Lewis, or have a mythology as extravagant as J. R. R. Tolkien’s, but she is an excellent storyteller whose series will stand alongside such sweeping tales as The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings in its power and significance to people of all ages about good and evil, and ultimately about Jesus Christ, his death on the cross, and his resurrection.

Harry’s whole story begins with the sacrificial death of his mother to save Harry, a baby at the time, from certain death at the hands of the dark lord Voldemort. This idea of a substitutionary sacrifice is conveniently similar to The Chronicles of Narnia where Aslan explains the “deeper magic” at the Stone Table, and how the White Witch did not, and could not, understand because it was based on the power of self-less love, something she knew nothing about. As you read the entire Harry Potter series, this theme is reiterated over and over again, as well as many other themes such as redemption, judgment, forgiveness, and faith.

It is only really in this final book of the Harry Potter series where Rowling begins to disclose that the world of Harry Potter has a “deeper magic,” similar to that of C. S. Lewis’ in The Chronicles of Narnia. Love, conveyed as a substitutionary sacrifice and a choice to die for your friends, has a power that Voldemort, like the White Witch before him, is blind to. Harry learns in this last book that in order to defeat Voldemort, the ultimate sacrifice will have to be made, and he must willingly give up his life. Upon his “resurrection,” Harry finds that since he willingly gave his life for the people of Hogwarts, Voldemort’s curses no longer bind them. Voldemort, then, is destroyed (by his own hand in an attempt to kill Harry again). As the tombstone of his parents, James and Lily Potter, says, “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death” (1 Corinthians 15:26), and Rowling makes those words resonate with meaning in the final battle.

This leads me to the more generic critique of this genre of literature. Most people would say that these types of books are only make-believe, and while they may be fun to read and immerse oneself in, they are a waste of time and nothing more.

There is certainly a predisposition towards this kind of literature that assumes, because it is so fantastical and unlike reality, that it can have no relevance or grounding in the real world. It is the same predisposition that dismisses abstract painting because it doesn’t represent anything, and contemporary classical music because it is just “noise.”. People are scared of the unknown, the imagined, the make-believe. Perhaps this is why Christians have been so hard on Harry Potter. In addition to being about witches and wizards, these books are simply a waste of time, they might say. Although The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings can be justified as time well spent (because of their much-publicized, if a bit over-emphasized, Christian allegorical elements), Harry Potter is just a lot of hocus-pocus silliness.

But the reality is that Harry Potter has much to say about Jesus and Christianity, the last book especially. J. K. Rowling, like C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, Madeleine L’Engle, William Shakespeare, and others before her, has managed to illuminate the sacred through the mythical, the real through the fictitious. In his book On Fairy Stories, J. R. R. Tolkien wrote of creating fantasy as a “human right” that is endowed to us through the incarnation: “We make in our measure and in our derivative mode, because we are made: and not only made, but made in the image and likeness of a Maker.”

C. S. Lewis would go even farther in his defense of myth. He eloquently wrote of Jesus as a myth become fact:

Now as myth transcends thought, Incarnation transcends myth. The heart of Christianity is a myth which is also a fact. The old myth of the Dying God, without ceasing to be myth comes down from the heaven of legend and imagination to the earth of history. It happens-at a particular date, in a particular place, followed by definable historical consequences. We pass from a Balder or an Osiris, dying nobody knows when or where, to a historical Person crucified (it is all in order) under Pontius Pilate. By becoming fact it does not cease to be myth: that is the miracle. – C.S. Lewis, God in the Dock, “Myth Became Fact”

Whenever C. S. Lewis began writing The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, he wasn’t thinking about how he could write a Christian allegory:

Some people seem to think that I began by asking myself how I could say something abut Christianity to children; then fixed on the fairy tales as an instrument, then collect information about child psychology and decided what age group I’d write for; then drew up a list of basic Christian truths and hammered out ‘allegories’ to embody them. This is all pure moonshine. I couldn’t write in that way at all. Everything began with images. A faun carrying an umbrella, a queen on a sled, a magnificent lion. At first there wasn’t anything Christian about them. That element pushed itself in of its own accord. – “Sometimes Fairy Stories May Say Best What’s to Be Said” from On Stories and Other Essays on Literature by C.S. Lewis

Something like what Lewis encountered seems to have happened to J. K. Rowling. She started out writing about witches, howlers, knight buses, sorting hat’s, Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, and quidditch, and at some point, Jesus began to whisper into the story.

J. K. Rowling, thank you for introducing Harry Potter, a cast of hundreds, and the eternal story of good and evil to millions upon millions of young and eager readers. Thank you for baptizing the imagination of millions of children. Jesus calls his followers to stand up for truth wherever we see it, whether it’s in bookstores, art galleries, city hall, theaters, or church buildings, and we have let you down, more than that, we let truth down, and in some way let Jesus down. Please forgive us for not speaking up more when we knew better.

Film and Theology: Batman Begins

Why Film and Theology?

The Bible tells a story that is the story, the story of which our human life is a part. It is not that stories are part of human life, but that human life is part of a story. - Lesslie Newbigin in The Open Secret: An Introduction to the Theology of Mission.

My wife and I sat down the other evening after the kids had gone to bed and decided to pop in a favorite movie of ours, The Book of Eli. The movie explores some very rich themes, including offering some key points on the nature of man, the power of religion, and the sovereign will of God. In the tradition of all great movie and television dramas, it does not oversimplify tough questions. It leaves plenty of room for debate. It shows us men who fail, men who become selfish animals when put to the test, and it shows us men who heed the call of conscience even at great risk to themselves. This is a truly remarkable film, and as I watched the movie credits begin to roll at the end, I was once again in awe of the power of film.

Film is probably the reigning art form of the twenty-first century. Not only is it accessible, but it embodies a collaborative creation, and ends up being the result of a diverse community coming together in the attempt to create something beautiful. Our desire to tell stories comes from being made in God’s image, and movies inevitably express truths related to the One True Narrative. Whether it’s the nature of God, the consequences of sin, or a multitude of other issues; filmmakers, either directly or indirectly, often touch on these themes.

In his book Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton says that for many years he believed there was no connection between “the world and the Christian tradition,” they were “two parts of two machines.” Then he began to see that every story he covered actually fit inside a larger story that only the Word could explain the world:

When once these two parts of the two machines had come together, one after another, all the other parts fitted and fell in with an eerie exactitude. I could hear bolt after bolt over all the machinery falling into its place with a kind of click of relief. Having got one part right, all the other parts were repeating that rectitude, as clock after clock strikes noon. Instinct after instinct was answered by doctrine after doctrine.

On the surface, it seems as if movies have replaced religious groups as the place where significant encounters with the “transcendent” takes place. It is in this temple of the theater where meaning is preached; where, this weekend alone, millions of people will take in a movie or rent a DVD, and passively absorb dramatized life lessons, morals, and worldviews from directors, producers, and screenwriters. We, as a community of believers, should be engaging this art form, and pointing out where these narratives ring true and where they ring false. What does the movie say about human existence, the supernatural, life, the afterlife, and our need for redemption? Why do certain narratives evoke certain emotions in us?

The reality is that sometimes we are often far too shallow, flippant, and unduly critical when it comes to engaging film. For most people there is little discussion following a film beyond simple conclusions such as, “That was a good movie!” or “I didn’t like it” or “That was okay.” Every film contains ideas, and those ideas are related in turn to worldviews. Consequently, learning to exegete film in a manner that is relevant will help us engage others in discussions about faith, truth, and more.

The Church’s cultural relevance in reference to engaging film, however, must not sacrifice biblical truth. In other words, while the Christian worldview should adapt to the influence of film and its penetration in our cultural milieu, it should not sacrifice essential Christian doctrine and ideas when seeking meaningful and engaging ways of interacting with individuals. In addition, while there are times for direct critical analysis that thoughtfully responds to erroneous ideas in films, we also need to learn to be far more tactful in our assessment of films. Like Paul in Athens (Acts 17:16-34), it’s possible to intelligently engage cultural ideas in a manner that is both forceful when necessary, and yet cordial and even complimentary at times of the positive aspects of non-Christian culture.

The Church has a vital role in promoting critical thinking skills that will inform viewers how they watch movies. That is why on August 5, Redemption Hill Church will continue to provide a venue for healthy discussion, which thereby enables us to become wiser in our dialogue regarding different worldviews and philosophies that are preached using the medium of film. This venture will be entitled Film and Theology, and will aim to help people understand our responsibility to mindfully engage the media that we enjoy. It will be an exercise, a tutorial if you will, for people who normally don’t think that film, and culture in general, has anything to do with God. We will be kicking off a Superhero Summer where we will be looking at two of the most iconic comic book characters (and Christ figures) in both literature and film: Superman and Batman.

If you are looking for a way to introduce the gospel to someone, bring them to our second Film and Theology event on Friday, August 5th, and be prepared to have some great conversations around the worldview that the superhero genre presents. Films have the intentional or unintentional ability to tap into the aspects of the One True Narrative that make them more than simple action movies, but gives them a depth that will endure long after the heroes fade. If we approach a movie like this with these things in mind, we will stop underestimating the power of narrative and engage it in meaningful ways, finding the seed of metanarrative and uncovering how these stories point to, or distract from, the incomparable tale of Truth Incarnate, who has the story on His lips, creation in his hand, conflict under his foot, and resolution in His blood.

Film and Theology: Superman Returns