Viking Restaurant

Letting it All Go

Ive been thinking today about some movies that have come out in recent years, all of which have characters who are struggling throughout the film with deeply repressed emotions that need to be released. These films always end with the main character reaching a watershed moment in which all of his/her repressed emotions spill out and the character learns to cry/feel again. Think of the following examples:

1) Jack Nicholson in About Schmidt
2) Emma Thompson in Sense and Sensibility
3) Zach Braff in Garden State
4) Bill Murray in The Life Aquatic
5) Paul Giamatti in Lady in the Water
6) Mel Gibson in Signs
7) Ben Stiller in the Royal Tenenbaums
8) Tom Hanks in Castaway
9) Tom Cruise in Magnolia and Jerry Maguire
10) Orlando Bloom in Elizabethtown

These are just a few examples that flew to the top of my head, and Im not necessarily an endorsing fan of each of the movies in this list (I hated Garden State). But I have found that I tend to respond strongly to the "emotional release" moments in these films. These moments always get to me, and I think this is because I want so badly to experience that kind of moment myself. I want to reach this moment one day where I can truly just let it all go, where I can stop worrying about my life and just be completely OK with the way things are. And yet this is not the kind of moment I can just choose to have. I cant just seem to let it all go.

I guess this is a pretty personal thing to be blogging about (I guess my blog has been veering into the personal a lot lately) but I will just go ahead and put this out there. I decided to visit a psychiatrist last year and his diagnosis of some the things I went to him about was that I had an anxiety disorder. Now I know that sounds vague but this doctor actually made a whole lot of sense when he started explaining it to me. I do know that it runs in the family. I have known several generations of my family to have massive anxiety issues. One of my most frightening memories as a child was when I was staying at my grandparents house and my grandmother started having a panic attack in the middle of the night. She was just intensely worried about something, I cant remember what. But it was hard to watch her break down like that.

Ever since I visited this doctor, I have been acutely aware of the effect that anxiety has on my life on a daily basis. Its funny because I now feel anxious about the fact that I am an anxious person. All my life I have had people tell me that I space out a lot, that I tend to stare off into space in the middle of a conversation with a blank expression on my face, entering what many have called "Todd-land." I know this is an incredibly selfish act, because I alienate myself from the people around me and ignore others when they are talking to me. Why do I do it? Worry. I just worry a lot when it comes down to it. Its not just abstract, philosophical thinking, and its not just spacing out. Ive tried to pass it off as those things before but I know that is usually not the case. Its usually just plain worry. I have to work out something in my head that Im worried about for one reason or another. Something enters my mind that feels wrong and I have to think about it until it feels right.

I am now at a place in life where I realize that I can never work out the anxieties I have about life in my mind. I can think about my worries until kingdom come and Ill never come to a conclusion that brings me peace. And so at some point I just have to let it all go. I have to stop worrying and shut my brain off. I have to have a good long release of emotion and find some rest. But how do I make this happen? Well, I know I cant make it happen. I have to wait for it to happen. I dont think it will happen in a dramatic way. I just think I will get so tired of thinking that I will just cave in. Im already weary of thinking. Its harder for me to have deep conversations with people, to read deep books, to meditate for long periods of time, to pray, because Im just weary of my thought life.

Im remembering one other movie, one of my favorites. The movie is Empire of the Sun, and in the movie the main character, played by a 13 year old Christian Bale, reaches a point at the end of the film where he has grown so weary that all he can do in the final scene is close his eyes and fall into the embrace of his parents. Its one of the final shots of the film and you get this real sense that the character has finally found rest and peace. Thats the kind of moment I look forward to experiencing: when I am embraced by my Father and I can just close my eyes and stop worrying; when I can truly cast all my cares upon the one who cares for me.

Thoughts on Justice

I drove to Charlotte, NC this weekend and on my way there I received a speeding ticket a bit north of Asheville. I was apparently going 84 miles an hour in 65 mph zone. I was told by the very matter-of-fact cop that I would have to make a mandatory court appearance in North Carolina in September because I was going over 80. So it quickly dawned on me that I was to not only pay the price of what would most likely be a very expensive ticket, but I would have to lose a day's work and pay court costs and pay for the gas to get to NC and back. Needless to say, I wasnt happy about this. And it didnt help that when the cop handed over the slip of paper and informed me of all this terrible news, he was not even remotely sympathetic.

But thats just the nature of getting a speeding ticket. Cops arent supposed to be sympathetic. They are just supposed to lay down the law. They look back at you with cold eyes and deliver justice through your car window. And it pisses you off, but theres nothing you can do about it. You realize that there is no escape, no way out.

After getting this ticket I hopped back onto the highway and I cranked Johnny Cash at full blast. I allowed the "Boom-Chicka-Boom" of Cash's songs to calm me down, and I couldnt help but feel at least a small connection with all of those prison inmates who were visited by Cash and who fell in love with his music in his heyday. Cash appealed to criminals, to those condemned by the law, because his lyrics spoke so much of dealing with the harsh realities of serving out a sentenced life. I listened to Cash sing of wearing stripes and facing the fact that he had eight, no seven, no six more minutes to go, and my boiling temper slowly simmered as I learned to accept my penalty the way that Johnny would.

Ive been thinking a lot about justice lately. You may remember I posted the lyrics to a Norman Blake song called "Billy Gray" a couple of weeks ago. I particularly like the last line of that song which says "Justice is cold as the Granger County clay." Justice is cold to the one who cant meet its demands.

Ive been feeling lately that I react to life much like I how I react to getting a speeding ticket. I try to rationalize the penalty away. I make excuses. And I want someone to understand me, to sympathize with me. But sympathy is a blessing, not an obligation. And nobody, and I mean nobody, is obligated to give sympathy in this life. All suffering in this life, all doubt, all fear, all sense of loss, all regret, all sorrow, is deserved. I cant numb that down. I tend to think mercy is something I have coming to me, something that I am owed. But that is such deceptive thinking.

I know that some people at this point would want to say that I have to just learn to accept grace, that I have to let go of my anxieties and accept freely the grace and mercy of Christ. Perhaps that is true. But I feel that our common notion of grace often clouds and distorts a proper understanding of justice.

I think it is a good thing to cry out everyday for grace and to hope for it with every ounce of our being. We need to be beggars for grace. But I feel we must, we absolutely must, be prepared somehow for the alternative. Otherwise we take grace for granted, and we treat it cheaply, as something already owned in full. And this is simply not the case. I will not have fully owned grace until I own a resurrected and glorified body. And should I be denied that body, I will have no reason for rage. So Im trying to rid myself of rage, of cynicism, of envy, of self-pity, of disappointment with God. There really is no place in this universe for those kinds of emotions. They are unnatural and wrong.

But I do feel there is a place in the universe for the cool, calm, and collected acceptance of failure and its consequences. I instinctually want to run from the possibility of ever having to face this. I dont even want to remotely consider any alternative to eternal, perfect bliss and peace. This is an act of cowardice on my part that Im not sure Ill ever get over. But I need to get over it. Peace would be nice, but it is owed to no man.

Some Thoughts on Faith

Just off the top of my head, I am thinking of two types of faith, and Im wondering which is preferable. You've got "desperate" faith, which is the kind of faith that calls out to God out of pure need. With desperate faith, I believe in God because I need to, because He's my last resort and I have nowhere else to turn. This is not necessarily a bad kind of faith in my mind. It seems to me that God wants to keep us in a state of desperate need before Him, and so I can see why faith would look more like a plea for help than a confident confession of certitude.

And yet there is that second kind of faith that seems to be out there, that "confident" faith in which a person just "knows" the truth and stands by it unwaveringly. I think of the centurion who didnt even bother to meet Jesus personally when he wanted his servant healed. He merely sent a messenger and declared confidently that He knew that Jesus had the authority to heal and that He would heal if He willed to. This didnt seem to be so much an act of desperation. It rather seemed to be an act of cool, calculated trust. And Jesus called this kind of faith the greatest faith He had seen in all Israel.

At this point in my life, I am only familar with the first type of faith. I am desperate. I need the Bible to be true. I need God to be real. I need Christ to fulfill His promises. I need these things so desperately that Im willing to throw myself upon them in the way that a drowning man might throw himself upon a floating tree branch just hoping it wont sink.

I wish that I could get back to a more confident faith, a faith that believes not merely because it needs to but because it knows to. I guess desperate faith makes me feel a little bit like a mooch sometimes, like that guy who is nice to you just because he needs something from you. Doesnt it just sound better to say "I know you are the Son of God" than to say "I need you to be the Son of God." And yet, I feel like in my heart of hearts I have really only been saying the latter for a while now.

A Conversation the Other Day

I was talking to someone the other day about why we apparently came from "different worlds." You see, I am a Christian and this person wasnt so we were talking about how hard it was for us to understand each other. Now I suppose when it comes down to it we were really talking about the fact that we have a completely different set of friends. I have a predominately Christian set of friends who live a certain way and this person has a predominately non-Christian set of friends who live another way. Thus we are from "different worlds."

But having different types of friends doesnt really make us all that much different, does it? I mean even when I was at a Christian college I related to a certain group of friends while there were other groups I wasnt able to relate to much at all.

And as far as our personal lives are concerned we really have a lot in common. We are both confused people in our late twenties with a lot of bad junk in our background who have done a lot of things we regret.

So what is the answer? What makes our worlds so different?

Well, as I delved further into the conversation I realized that the fundamental difference was how we felt about death. This person (at least on the surface) isnt too concerned about death and believes that there is no such thing as life after death and that this life is all we have and so we should just make the most of it. This person also did not seem bothered by the prospect of fading out of existence. After all, if we arent conscious of not existing, why should we care?

I, on the other hand, am (perhaps unhealthily) obsessed with death, and I simply cannot be content with the idea of losing my existence after death. The idea of everything I have ever known and experienced in this life just disappearing is the saddest thing I can possibly imagine. To have tasted this life and then to just lose it seems incomprehensible to me at times. Even as I type this message there is SO MUCH going on around me. I am hearing the voices of other people, the whirring of machines, and the sound of my fingers clicking against the keyboard. I can see trees outside my window and people walking by me and all kinds of gadgets and gizmos that other people like me have made laying all about my desk. And thats just a minute of my time. Life is so unbearably big sometimes, and I cant sit back and be all right with the idea of just letting it go.

And I can understand my friend's perspective. After all, the only thing we ever see from our end is death. People go away and they never come back. We bury or cremate their bodies and those bodies one way or another return to dust. The fact that this IS going to happen to me at some point is a lot to stomach. I am going to lose consciousness and any connection with my body, at least temporarily. And my only hope is that at that point I will somehow, by powers completely outside of my control, regain consciousness and reinhabit a body, thus reclaiming life. Ive never seen this happen to anybody. Ive heard about it happening to a some people, particularly ONE person 2000 years ago, and I find my sources to be pretty reliable. But nevertheless, Ive never seen it happen and I would have no idea what it would be like when it does happen. Its really a huge unknown, a total mystery when you think about it.

But then again, I know that Jesus faced this predicament Himself. Despite the fact that Jesus is God, you kind of get the notion that the outcome of His death was uncertain to Him in the garden of Eden. Lets face it. Jesus seemed scared and unsure of Himself. Perhaps God would take the cup from Him, somehow. But if God did not take the cup from him, then at least God's will would be done. And Jesus was willing to accept that will, whatever it was. Jesus was completely and totally abandoning Himself to the will of God, whatever the outcome may be. Jesus believed He would be resurrected but it was also completely out of His hands. It wasnt up to Him at all. He had to surrender Himself to the mercy and power of His Father. He would simply die and then hope He would somehow wake up. He faced death head-on as each man has to. And it is in this way that He completely sympathizes with our weaknesses.

Rambling I know. But good thoughts to chew on.

Ive Got Nothin'

The following blog post may, in parts, seem a little self-indulgent, self-pitying, and self-deprecating. And maybe a blogpost is not the best forum for what Im about to write. But allow me to work out some thoughts here. And in the end, dont hold them against me.

Ive just been thinking for the past several days about how destitute and lost my life feels lately. (How is that for a morbid beginning?) I really dont mean to start whining here, but "destitute" and "lost" are just two of the better words I can come up with right now.

To be honest, Ive just felt like crap lately and its beginning to feel like Ive been going through something like a mid-life crisis, except its (hopefully) a third-life crisis in my case. Ive always understood a "mid-life" crisis to be that moment in a person's life (I guess we usually think of men here for some reason) where that person begins to be overwhelmed with the idea that he has wasted his life and that he has made all the wrong choices (spouse, career, location, etc.), and where he becomes immensely afraid of the possibility of dying before he has reached his innermost, unrealized potential. I dont know if my situation is exactly like the one I just described, but there are some close similarities.

Now according to Christian ideals, a man should not worry about his life. He should "lose" his life (and all the anxiety that comes with it) for the sake of "gaining" it. He should not be concerned about the outcome of his own fortune at all, but only that he has been a "good and faithful servant" to God and to his neighbor. For the Christian man, there should be no concern for "self" but only concern for "others." I was ready to completely buy into that idea until I read Soren Kierkegaard a few years ago. Now Im obsessed with the idea that my "self" is always going to be an important part of life's equation.

I wrote in an earlier post somewhere back that I dont ever want to stop being me. Ive kind of boiled all my hopes and desires for life down to that one fundamental thing: I want to exist. I can be self-righteous and claim that all I care about is God and his glory and the well-being of others and righteousness and truth and all that jazz. But at the bottom of it all is my desire to be a part of it all. I want to exist in a conscious state for all eternity. If everything in the Bible was true and I knew that I would one day cease to exist, I wouldnt care anymore about the Bible. If I were to have written I Corinthians 13, it would have looked something like this:

If I speak in the tongues of men and angels,
but have not ME,
I have become sounding brass or a tinkling symbol.

And if I have prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge,
and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains,
but have not ME, I am nothing.

And if I dole out all my goods, and
if I deliver my body that I may boast
but have not ME, nothing I am profited.

Thats how I feel. I love me more than anything else. I cant possibly imagine a universe where I could love something more. I am a wholly selfish being.

And yet heres the rub. I hate me. Now I know that sounds pathetically self-deprecating. But its true. I really do hate me. And as time goes by, I really do find that I hate myself more, not less. As Paul said in Phillipians, I have found that all of the things that may have seemed good about me at one point in life, are really just rubbish. I find all of the things that I might have boasted in to be like trash. I count them nothing. I really cant think of anything to say about me that is unqualifiedly good. I would even go onto say that I hate myself more than I hate anything else in the universe, because I know more about what is to be hated in me than in any other thing.

And so I am hopelessly in love with the one thing in the world that I hate the most: me.

I really have just been obsessed lately with some of the following thoughts:

1) I am going to die
2) I have caused seemingly irreparable hurt and harm to a number of people in my life
3) I have spent the majority of my life in lazy, self-indulgent behavior rather than in service to others
4) I am not responsible, nor am I independent, nor am I mature for my age
5) I have done far less with what I have been given in life than I could have done (the parable of the talents consistently haunts me)
6) I am selfish, and deep down inside, I would rather be able to stay the way that I am without eternal consequences than to change

Now I know this sounds like needless, overly harsh self-pity. Perhaps.

This is why if I dont have the gospel, then I have nothing. Ryan posted a good thought on my blog a few months ago, about the time that Peter said to Jesus:"Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God." This has become kind of a fall-back verse for me lately. Despite the fact that Ive found it really hard to believe in Jesus lately, I do find myself constantly saying "Where else can I go?" His words truly are the ONLY words of eternal life that can save me from my condition.

My condition is that I hate myself and yet I cant rid myself of myself, because deep down inside I love myself too much. Im stuck with myself. And I hate what Im stuck with, but I love it too much to let go. Thats why my only hope is the kind of RESURRECTION that I hear about in the Gospel of Christ. Its not the kind of resurrection where I come back to life as somebody else. No, I still get to be me. This is a good thing and I wouldnt have it any other way. But its also not the kind of resurrection where I come back as my same old stinkin' self. That would be a bad thing. No, its apparently the kind of resurrection where I come back as myself, but not just as myself. I will come back as a transformed self, a new self.

This is why I Corinthians 15 tells me that if there is no resurrection of the dead then I am a complete moron and I deserve to be pitied. But if there is a resurrection of the dead, then I have a LOT to look forward to:

"So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body."

I cannot help but to look at myself as I am right now as a dishonorable, weak person. But the Bible tells me that there is hope that I might experience, in myself, glory and power. What does that feel like? What does glory feel like? What does power feel like? Im not trying to make it sound like Im some glory-hungry, power-hungry egolomaniac. No, I fully realize that the Bible is talking about a glory and a power that comes through humility and through being identified with Christ, the sole heir to glory and power.

And yet I wake up everyday and lament the fact that doing even the simplest act of loving somebody other than myself or obeying God against some temptation to sin takes so much energy and so much willpower, and I usually if not always fail. I wonder what it will be like when we have the power to love, to trust, and to obey God right at our fingertips and it flows through us as naturally as air through our lungs and blood through our veins.

If that is truly our hope, then I will count all the suffering of this life to be worth it. But if I dont have that hope, then I have nothing. I just have myself, and all of the fear and doubt and self-loathing that comes with it.

Lady in the Water-Review

Last night, I saw the new film from M. Night Shamalamadingdong, "Lady in the Water," with Josiah, Mesh, April, and Andy.

Oh where to begin?

I feel it is only proper to begin with my thoughts on why I really do like Mr. Shamasnuffalupagus. The guy truly is NOT a hack. No, he's a good director. He just also happens to be insane.

Ive really warmed up to M. Night in some ways over the years, for his sure audacity if for nothing else. I mean, there are certain things you can always count on from any of his films:

1) The cinematography will be outstanding
2) That M. Night, much like his close contemporary Bryan Singer, will channel the consciousness of his sensei Steven Spielberg in mostly positive ways.
3) There will be brilliant writing in at least some specific scenes
4) There will be top notch acting from an exceptionally well chosen cast
5) The musical score, composed by James Newton Howard, will be one of the best of the year
6) Shamalycanthrope will deliver an entirely original (albeit preposterous) story

I dont take it for granted that the film industry is lucky to have a guy like M. Night in the business. We need more guys like this who are as committed to the craft of filmmaking and to the art of storytelling as he is. But we also need these guys to be sane. And M. Night, I have decided, is not sane. Hes talented, dont get me wrong! But hes loco.

M. Night must make for great watercooler conversation amongst Hollywood insiders these days. I imagine, just by the vilification (he would call it martyrdom) that he has received at the hands of every serious film critic in the industry, that M. Knight is the brunt of a lot of jokes lately. Part of me wanted to be able to watch his new film and to walk away defending M. Night against the lashes of his foes. But in the end, its hard not to sympathize with his critics. After all, M. Night asks his audience to swallow more ludicrousy than I think any other filmmaker in the history of moviemaking has dared to ask of an audience. In "Lady in the Water," he asks his audience to believe (and I mean, in the most intimate emotional way possible, BELIEVE) in the following script elements:

1) Giant tree-dwelling Monkeys of Justice with mohawks
2) That the root of all human unhappiness lies in the fact that we failed to keep swimming in the ocean with mythical sea nymphs known as "narfs"
3) That your next box of Cheerios or Honey Bunches of Oats may just contain prophecy that could eventually lead to the salvation of mankind fom all of his misery
4) That M. Night Shamaloctopus is a truly "humble" man with no sense of his own importance, despite the fact that he writes himself into his own movie as a writer whose works, although currently misunderstood and underappreciated, will go on to change the whole course of human history.
5) That all film critics are inherently evil and deserve to die.
6) That he has any understanding whatsoever of what people who smoke marijuana act like.
7) That despite having seen "Return of the King" countless times, American audiences just havent gotten enough of a giant eagle swooping down out of the sky to rescue the film's protagonist.
8) That I wouldn't notice that in one scene he blatantly ripped off Ghostbusters!

Now before you think Im getting too harsh on this film let me back up and qualify some things.

First, this is M. Nights funniest film to date. And while it is unintentionally funny at times in the sense that I found myself laughing at the movie rather than with it, the film's funniest moments really are intentionally funny. M. NIght wrote some brilliant comedic scenarios, particularly between the main character, played by Paul Giamatti, and an Asian mother-daughter duo who live in Giamatti's apartment complex. I commend M. Night for developing his humorous side more than ever here.

Second, M. Night has not lost it in terms of his ability to create suspense. The man can make sprinklers scary. And that seems like a pretty cool accomplishment to me. I must have jumped out of my seat three or four times last night, and almost every time it had to do with sprinklers. Im going to have a hard time walking across golf courses now, for fear of being surprised by sprinklers. M. Night has done for sprinklers what Hitchcock did for showers and what Spielberg did to beaches and swimming pools.

Third, M. Night is just plain entertaining. I was genuinely entertained last night at every moment through the film, despite the fact that I was often completely bewildered by what Shamalambam was attempting to do to my head.

It just all comes back to the point I was making earlier. M. Night is crazy. He has lost his mind. His behavior surrounding the making of this film should be evidence enough that he needs his head examined. When a Disney executive did not have enough time to review M. Night's script for the film because she had to go to her son's birthday party, he decried Disney for stifling his vision. He went on to have a book written about his struggle to get "Lady in the Water" made without the support of the Disney company. The book, entitled "The Man Who Heard Voices: Or How M. Night Shyamalan Risked His Career On a Fairy Tale," is a narcissistic romp in which M. Night is painted as the bold martyr who defied the system to bring a work of monumental visionary significance to filmviewers across the world. The book might be interesting if it was about the making of "Citizen Kane." But this is "Lady in the Water" we are talking about. Tree-Dwelling Monkeys of Justice? Narfs and Scrunts? Maybe M. Night should have at least waited until after the movie came out to have the book written.

Added to this is M. Night's American Express commercial, in which M. Night writes, directs, and acts in credit card commerical dedicated completely to his own self-importance.

This is the point where M. Night needs to get a psychiatrist, or at least an accountability partner, someone to tell him when his ideas need some editing and when his ego needs some deflating.

I really do like the guy. I cant wait to see his next film. But "Lady in the Water" is the work of a madman, and its director needs to be temporarily hospitalized if you ask me. Then perhaps one day he will have the sanity to match his skill, and we will get the M. Night movie that will change the world, at least for a couple of days.

Superman is a Rapper! Plus "The Prestige"

I kid you not! Kal Penn (of Harold and Kumar fame) has made a rap video that includes a cameo of Brandon Routh (Superman) rapping. Just so you dont get too confused, the plot seems to be about Kal Penn and his friend Chez going loco on a Swedish dinosaur clone who has posed to Kal as the Avon Lady. Superman shows up as an italian cop who rides a bicycle and wears short shorts. Its the wierdest thing Ive seen all week. I dont know if I would call it "hilarious" as much as "disturbingly funny." Check it out!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlxhD284RKM

Also, I have just seen what is possibly the coolest movie trailer of the year. The trailer is so compelling, and makes me want to see the movie so much, I would almost call the trailer itself a classic! The film is called "The Prestige" and it stars Christian Bale, Hugh Jackman, and Michael Caine and it is directed by Christopher Nolan, the director of Batman Begins. Heres the link!

http://www.apple.com/trailers/touchstone/theprestige/

Catacombs (In Marketing Language)

Today at work they wanted me to write up a description of my old hall at Covenant, the Catacombs. Covenant is working on some marketing strategies and wants to perhaps put up something in the future pointing to the diversity of hall life at Covenant. Here's what I wrote. It may not seem like that big of a deal, but it actually took me a while to describe Catacombs in a way that wasn't going to be outright offsetting. Heres what I came up with.

Catacombs:

Story #1: Catacombs has a yearly tradition of competing in any and all Battleball (A.K.A. Dodgeball) competitions dressed in a wide range of colorful Battle-garb. Recognizable “characters” on the team might include a Star Wars Stormtrooper, an African tribesman, GI Joe, He-Man, Darth Maul, or a 13th century monk. One year Catacombs invited a hall of Baptist girls from the local rival college, Tennessee Temple University, to compete with them in Battleball. The girls played the guys to a Covenant spectator crowd of over 100 people.

Story #2: Catacombs has another yearly tradition of the spring “chapel performance.” Rather than attend chapel on a given Friday, Catacombs will use the chapel period to set up an elaborate spectator event on the chapel lawn for the Covenant college community to enjoy upon their exit from the chapel doors. Past performances have included a Britain vs. Canada cricket tournament, a Japanese bluegrass concert, a scene reenactment from the 1976 film “Carrie,” and a “Day at the Races” with toddler three-wheelers.

Story #3: Founders Skit night has nurtured another important annual tradition for Catacombs, the much-beloved “Catacombs Superhero Battle Skit.” Each year, the members of Catacombs have found creative ways to incorporate an intergalactic superhero battle into the context of a well-written, music-infused skit, often involving other unique elements such as choreographed dancing and elaborate stage designs. Past skits titles have included “Falwell vs. Potter,” “Thus Sprake Fernando,” “The Hip-Hop Princess,” and “Cocoon.”

Story #4: The Catacombs Folk Festival is perhaps the most significant annual tradition for the hall, since it by far has the most positive effect on the campus community as a whole. Each year, the Catacombs boys host an evening of music, shared creativity, and fellowship in an intimate, relaxed atmosphere open to all Covenant students. Students from all over campus come to share their musical and poetic talents, creating over the course of a long evening a tender and joyous community experience that is talked about and remembered for months afterwards.

Story #5: The Catacombs boys are no strangers to creative pranks, and they pride themselves on (usually) committing pranks for the sake of fun and creativity and not for the sake of harm and destructiveness to the campus community. From staging a Beach Boys slip-n-slide party in Carter Hall in the middle of the night and in the middle of winter to giving fashionable clothing to some occasional roadkill, Catacombs likes to mix it up and remain the campus’ most unpredictable hall.

Billy Gray

I dont know what it is. I cant really explain why, but these song lyrics pretty much wrap up the way Ive been feeling for a while:

Billy Gray rode into Gantry back in '83
There he did meet young Sarah McCray
The wild rose of morning that pale flower of dawning
Herald of springtime in his young life that day

Sarah, she could not see the daylight of reality
In her young eyes, Billy bore not a flaw
Knowing not her chosen one was a hired gun
Wanted in Kansas City by the law

Then one day a tall man came riding cross the badlands
That lie to the north of New Mexico
He was overheard to say he was lookin' for Bill Gray
A ruthless man and a dangerous outlaw

Well, the deadly news came creepin' to Billy, fast sleepin'
There in the Clarendon Bar and Hotel
He fled towards the old church, there on the outskirts
Thinking he'd climb that old steeple bell

But a rifle ball came flying face down he lay dying
There in the dust of the road where he fell
Sarah, she ran to him cursing the lawman
Accepting no reason knowing he was killed

Sarah lives in that same old white frame house
Where she first met Billy some forty years ago
And the wild rose of morning has faded
With the dawning of each day of
Sorrow the long years have sown

Written on a stone
where the dusty winds have long blown
Eighteen words to a passing world say:
"True love knows no season, no rhyme nor no reason
Justice is cold as the Granger County clay"

Norman Blake

About four years ago I was somewhat convinced that I would never find another songwriter who was so great that I would want to buy all of his/her albums. I felt that I had tapped the well of those that I could love as much as a Bob Dylan, a Paul Simon, or a Bruce Springsteen.

Since then however, I have found out about guys like Townes Van Zandt, John Prine, and Norman Blake. I got on a huge Van Zandt kick about two years ago and it hasnt stopped since. My obsession with John Prine quickly followed. For the past couple days I have been listening to a lot of Norman Blake.

Now I feel like Im on the verge of a new musical obsession. Ive enjoyed Norman Blake for a few years now, but I might be at the point where I need to start buying his albums. Ive been listening to his album The Fields of November at pretty much every possible opportunity, and Im loving it. The song "Billy Gray" which was introduced to me by my friend Robert the other night is one of the saddest songs Ive ever heard. Robert also introduced me to Blake's song "Church Street Blues" a few years ago, which is a favorite and what initially made me a fan of his music.

Now most people are going to remember Norman Blake for doing "Man of Contant Sorrow" on the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack. That was my first exposure to him as well, although he really didnt register with me as an individual until I heard Robert sing "Church Street Blues." There is another O Brother soundtrack alumnus that I am looking to start getting into as well, a guy a lot like Blake named John Hartford. He has some pretty great stuff as well.

Something that really sticks out to me about Blake though is that he is somewhat of a Chattanooga local. He apparently lives not too far from here in Rising Fawn, GA (that might be sketchy info, but I think Im right) and he sings about Chattanooga sometimes, most notably the song "Chattanooga Sugar Babe" That can only make me like him more.

More About the Bible

Ive been reading more stuff by Peter Enns lately. Just for a reminder, Peter Enns is a professor of Old Testament and Hermeneutics at Westminster Theological Seminary. His thinking on Biblical interpretation has been some of the most refreshing stuff Ive read on the topic in a long time. In fact, Id venture to say that its the first time in a really long time that Ive read something in the realm of Biblical studies that has truly stretched and expanded my thinking on the topic. Somehow, Enns is able to take these overworn debates between fundamentalism and liberalism, modernism and postmodernism, hermeneutical realism vs. deconstruction, etc. and just simply and almost casually turn both sides of these debates upside down. He realizes that these debates, when it comes to interpreting the Bible, are asking the wrong questions because they are assuming the wrong things about what the Bible is supposed to be or has to be in order to be the Word of God. Does the Bible have to be unique revelation in the sense that it doesnt borrow concepts, language, and even stories from the cultural surroundings that its authors lived in? Does the Bible have to be unbiased revelation in the sense that its authors didnt have their own personal axe to grind when they wrote it? Does the Bible have to be able to pass all of the scientific, historical, and literary tests that a modernist society might subject to it? Why should it be concerned with such tests when these tests didnt even exist at the time of its writing?

Enns argues that the Bible does not indeed have to be all of these things. It simply has to do what it sets out to do, which is to reveal the one true God and His unique authority over all creation. The Bible has done this in a variety of contexts using a variety of methods. No one society can critique it perfectly according to the standards of their time. Its a complex book, incredibly so, and it deserves all of the academic rigour and thoughtfulness we can bring to it. So the questions of our time about the Bible's cultural rootedness, and its scientific, historic, and literary accuracy are important questions. But we have to realize, that in a sense the Bible is much bigger than we are because it reveals a God who is much, much greater than we are. And we ultimately have to account for our relationship to this revealed God. We cannot simply dismiss him because His revelation doesnt meet our cultural criteria. We have to face Him because, like it or not, He is revealed to us, and soundly.

Im still trying to get my mind around this stuff, but I really like Enns' bravery on this topic. He manages to remain orthodox and conservative while still questioning to the utmost our unneccessary tendency to make the Bible out to be a "perfect" book according to our own skewed standard of "perfection."

This may not make a lot of sense. But I kind of have to write about it.

Moving On

OK, Im tired of being a geek on my blog. So no more about Superman. I actually didnt get to see Superman on IMAX because the group I was going with pulled out because the tickets sold out. So I may not see it on IMAX anytime soon.

But moving on. I really havent given any personal updates lately and so I guess that may be in order.

The major highlight of my weekend was visiting my friends Robert and Laura in Atlanta last night. They are moving to California in a couple of weeks so we just wanted to hang out one more time before they went out west. My friend Esther, who was a co-teacher with me at Cono and is in town for three weeks for the Masters of Education program at Covenant, came along. We had a tasty home-cooked salmon dinner, went to an exceptional pub with a cavernous architectural design and a selection of over 300 beers, and we were treated at the end of the night to a private guitar concert by Robert in his living room. It was a great time.

Things are still transitioning fairly smoothy in terms of my move back to Chattanooga. Im getting ready to move in with a friend of mine, Keith, which I think is going to be really great for me. And Im still very much enjoying my job, and things should start kicking in more and more at work as we get closer to the fall and I have to start visiting schools, churches, and college fairs.

I feel like Ive been back in town long enough now that I can really start to do some more thoughtful reflection about last year at Cono, where Im at now, where I hope to be in the future, etc. I guess you could say my head is starting to clear up a bit. I would say that for the past month and a half, the excitement of a new job and being back amongst family and so many friends, has made my thought life a bit clouded. I havent really been able to sit still much, to read a good book, to sit quietly on the porch and just think, to go for a nice jog, etc. Ive just been on the go a lot, kind of restless and pretty much stressed out to some degree all the time. Im hoping that begins to change.

Ive been reading Saint Augustine's Confessions this past week. Hearing him reflect on his life has helped me a lot to reflect on mine. Its been good. Its been odd to relate to Augustine so much. Hes always seemed so ancient and awe-inspiring to me, I never would have thought that his Confessions would reflect my meager little thought life so closely. But his questions and his struggles with unbelief and sin seem remarkably contemporary to me. Sometimes he voices almost word for word thoughts I had that day, and they are thoughts that I would have considered from me to be immature, simple, and base. But these questions and struggles are so common to humanity. They stretch across centuries and millenia. Hes just a guy crying out "Why cant I get my mind around who God is (immaterial or material?)? Who Jesus is (spirit or flesh, man or God, or both)? Why cant I just accept God's word when it does sound so beautiful, so unique, and so true to me? Why do I stumble on it?" Granted Augustine does get pretty philosophical at times and puts things in a much more eloquent way than I ever could. But he does connect with me in wierd ways and I find myself relating to him pretty consistently.

I dont feel particularly healthy these days. I could use some exercise, physically and mentally. I need to get some good runs in and some goods reads in as well. I need to think on my Creator and remember Him more often, and develop a heart of thankfulness for just being around.

It is a good life. And I am feeling deep down that there is still a lot to look forward to. One of my frequent temptations lately has been to think very negatively about the future. I guess Im in that late twenties stage in life where I have to deal with certain things not working out how I thought they would and I have to accept that Im not who I envisioned I would be at this age. See if you relate to this. It seems in your early twenties you just get really used to "growing up." You are always learning new things, meeting new people, experiencing new places and events. Life always feels like its heading somewhere. Your doing a lot of wondering about post-college plans, future relationships, and what possibilities are in store for you. We really live in that mindset in college. But in your late twenties, it really seems that it all slows down a lot. Suddenly the future doesnt seem as bright or exciting because you realize that you havnent changed as much as you thought you would have in the last 8 years. So you realize that at this rate, you can only expect more subtle changes to occur in next 8. Rather than having unreasonable expectations about what is possible, you struggle to have expectations at all, to have a real sense of excitement and hope for the future. The song that comes to mind is Paul Simon's "Slip Sliding Away." I really feel like that sometimes. That rather than "growing up" Ive started the process of "slipping away." In many ways, Ive seen myself become less disciplined and less motivated than I was in college and more selfish and isolated. Now this is turning into a pity fest and Im not going for that. But I guess you could say Im looking for a come back. I want to get excited about life again, about the possibilities that are in front of me, about the kind of changes that I could experience if I dont give up. I guess this a pretty common human struggle. My words sounds generic to me even as I write them. But they are worthwhile thoughts to get out there I guess.

Didnt expect this post to be so long. Guess I got on a roll. Well to wrap up, Im just trying to say that one of the greatest things about the Christian life is hope. We have hope in what the future will bring, because our future is secure in Christ. Every time Ive ever pulled out of a really hard time in life, out of a really deep bout of depression, it has always been because of hope. I became hopeful again about what might happen if I began to make small changes now. Its not always easy to hold onto hope. As I just wrote, Ive seen hope fade for me in my late twenties because Im just not a wide-eyed college student any more. But I think hope can return ro us in a richer, more seasoned way as we get older. And thats what Im hoping for right now.

Superman Returns-Box Office

OK, I plan to write on Superman Returns at least two more times. I will talk this time about its box office take, and probably one more time about my impression of the IMAX version.

The Superman Returns box office has been a tricky subject this past week. Some (notably any affiliate of Fox, the arch rival of Warner Brothers when it comes to this kind of thing) want to call it a raging disappointment and an abysmal failure, only because it did not live up to its peak expectations that it would crush every box office record known to man and make back its budget within its first seven days. Superman Returns obviously did not do that. It claimed no box office records, and failed to make more in its first week than last years 4th of July fare, War of the Worlds. And its almost certain to take a steep box office nosedive when Pirates of the Caribbean 2 opens this weekend.

But there is a positive spin on the situation that others who dont work for Fox have been willing to admit. The fact is, Superman Returns made $108 million in its first seven days, which is over half its production budget of $204 million ($40-$60 million more than that was spent on development before the movie ever went into production). This is a solid number, especially considering its the only non-sequel to a new franchise that has ever made that much money in one week besides Spiderman, the Passion of the Christ, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and War of the Worlds.

Now Spiderman was the first HUGE hit of the superhero genre and no other film of its kind has been able to beat it but Spiderman 2.

The Passion of the Christ, is well, about the most popular figure in human history so good luck beating that one.

Harry Potter was a gigantic literary phenomenon leading right up to its release as a film.

War of the Worlds, well, I dont honestly understand why that one was such a hit. I guess the public's hatred of Tom Cruise hadnt settled in just yet.

So other than those four films, Superman Returns is the only non-sequel to be so successful. Every other film with a better opening week was building off recent audience familiarity (examples would be Return of the King, Revenge of the Sith, the Matrix Reloaded, Spiderman 2, and X-Men the Last Stand.) Now some might say Superman Returns is technically a sequel, and I grant that. But its not a sequel in a recent franchise. Its a sequel to 27 year old film, so I really dont think that counts in the same way.

I was honestly kind of upset when Superman Returns didnt do as well as the most optimistic analysts thought it would do. It is after all Superman, who is supposed to be our most recognizable and beloved cultural icon. He has obviously suffered a loss in his popularity over the years, and thats reflected in the fact that more Americans will watch the movie version of a Disney theme park ride this summer than this amazing character with a 70 year cultural history.

Its also annoying that Superman Returns might ultimately make less than Fox's X3: A Last Stand, a terrible movie which is a testament to Fox studio's willingness to do a last minute hackjob if it thinks it can make a profit. And it did. Superman is a superior movie in every way and yet it might make less money. That does kind of get my goad.

Nevertheless, the franchise is off to a STRONG start and we have every reason to believe that a sequel will be made. I think Superman is well on his way to becoming cool again, which would be a good thing for a fanboy like me.

Do check out this link for a pretty well-reasoned article about the SR box office take. I think the article does a good job of pointing out the positive while being honest about the negatives. Anyway, for those of you who havent already tuned out to my blatant geekiness, check it out!