At Christmastime this preacher talked a lot about the Incarnation, the historical fact and the present day implications. In the body of a teen-aged girl, God became a human being. He was born in Bethlehem of Judea and laid in a manger because there was no room in the inn. He shared our human existence. He became that fragile “clay pot” Paul talks about (2 Corinthians 4:7) just like us.
And they broke Him, didn’t they? They beat him, laughed at him, and jammed a crown of thorns into his scalp. They stripped and whipped and nailed Him to a cross.
What happened to Jesus in a matter of hours happens to us all through the course of our lives: rejection, betrayal, mockery; hurt, pain, the feeling of being abandoned. We carry in these bodies the death of Jesus. What men did to Jesus life does to us. What He did among men, He does in us—He lives!
Under a sky the color of slate, they took his body down from the cross. The poor women cradled his body in their arms. He lay there, a lifeless mass of welts and wounds, lay in the drizzle of their tears.
There are days when life is broken in pieces. There are days when we lie beaten in the bed, unable to put one foot over the side. There are days that seem like night.
They put Him in a rock hewn tomb, rolled a massive rock over the hole, and went away. It was done, finished, over with.
There are days we can’t seem to go on. The page is too heavy to turn. We’re caught between a rock and a hard place.
And then, somehow, by a power we can never understand, by a power we can only bless, hope seeps back into our minds, life comes back into our bodies. And we rise again! His story is our story.
This is the treasure hidden in jars of clay. This is our hope, our power, our glory, our song.
Well, you gotta give Smallville credit for staying power. It is, after all, an achievement, being renewed for an unprecedented tenth season–unprecedented in Superman TV history, that is. Personally, I was hoping it would just go away. The writing is poor, the series a hodgepodge of random elements from the DC Universe cynically, heedlessly thrown together. Everybody in the thing flies except Superman. I swear, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Streaky the Super-Cat zoom by in a flash of red and orange–anybody, anything but Clark/Kal-El/whoever he is.
Nevertheless, somebody’s gotta be watching this thing. The bottom line remains the bottom line. Networks don’t keep unprofitable series on the air, certainly not for a decade. I guess Smallville has done better than anything else the CW dumped on Friday night. Somebody’s watching, dare I say enjoying.
Do you like this series? Please tell me why. I’d really like to know. I don’t like stomping on a program that I, a Superman fan, would really like to like. I’d like to know why you, whoever you are, like it. Drop a comment. I’d appreciate it.
The following is an exerpt from my latest sermon. The text is 2 Corinthians 3:7-18.
The Corinthians were into celebrity. They were a church of fans–some of the eloquent preacher, Apollos; some of Jesus’ first round draft choice, Peter; others of some guys who humbly called themselves “super-apostles.” Beside this lot, Paul looked like the red-haired stepchild. To some at Corinth, at least, Paul was a loser.
Would you say then that whatever glory Paul thought he had was diminished at Corinth? What should he do then? Moses put a veil over his head to hide the fading glory, the threat of his own impotence. Paul could’ve done something like that. He could’ve acted like a big shot. He could’ve slapped some people around. Since he was in competition with “super-apostles,” he could’ve performed a miracle–while wearing a suit complete with sewn-in muscles, a cape, and a big A on his chest!
But he didn’t do that. He did the exact opposite. In chapters 11 and 12, he tells these people about his weakness, not his power. A stroke of genius! He talked about being beaten and shipwrecked and let down a wall in a basket to escape some irate public official. Jack Bauer? More like jack rabbit! He talked about his “thorn in the flesh,” the illness he had that plagued him. Imagine the President of the United States opening an address to the nation with, “My fellow Americans, tonight I must share with you my own personal nightmare…diarrhea!” That’d reduce the aura of the Presidency, wouldn’t it? Yeah, that’d cut the glory in a hurry!
Yet Paul did pretty much the same thing with joy and abandon. He did it because he realized how impermanent human power is and how mighty the presence of God! He knew he belonged to God! He knew God as a God who was willing to suffer on a cross–humiliations galore in a sea of gore. And he knew that wasn’t the end of the story, for the God of glory raised Jesus from the dead. And Paul knew that, by his faith, he had entered that great Story; that he shared the glory of God in Jesus Christ—something no man could take away.
Nor can anyone take it from us believers today. Somebody say Amen.
Having avoided the film version of Alan Moore’s landmark graphic novel when it played the movie house, I finally broke down and checked out the “Director’s Cut” DVD from the library. On the one hand, I was repulsed, specifically by the horrific violence, which was more hinted at in the comic than displayed. Of course, it’s been more than 20 years since the comic appeared, and I expected the R-rated film to take its liberties. As most fans know, in both graphic novel and movie, Dr. Manhattan is nekkid as the proverbial jaybird. Yet, his nudity seemed rather innocuous to me; perhaps because he’s impossibly muscled, blue, and glowing. His eyes seem perpetually rolled up into his head. He doesn’t really look human. I fast-forwarded through the boring scenes featuring badly-made up versions of Nixon and Kissinger. Otherwise, I found most of the visuals striking, hard to take your eyes off.
One scene that drew me in, in fact, riveted me, was the scene between Manhattan and Lori on Mars. In the gigantic clockwork ”floater” he’s constructed, as they pass over the red landscape, he reasons himself, if not back to humanity, at least back to earth to help in the crisis Adrian Veidt has created. He muses over a concept and a word Alan Moore didn’t–miracle. Lori has learned that the sadistic Comedian, Eddie Blake, is her real father. Incredibly, despite the rape that produced this child, her mother, Sally, loves Blake as she loves her daughter. Thinking out loud, Dr. Manhattan speaks of an act of senseless violence that led somehow to the miracle called Lori. He says it’s like making gold out of air. I thought it was one of the more subtly powerful arguments I’ve ever heard against abortion. (I wish I could remember more of Manhattan’s monologue. Guess I’ll have to watch that part again.)
The most fully-realized and sympathetic character in the piece is Rorshach. He started out as a damaged youth, unwanted by his promiscuous mother, taunted by bigger, stronger boys. In his flawed psyche he substitutes justice for love. Yet he’s no killer–not, that is, until he discovers the horrific evidence of a raped and murdered little girl. He watches two vicious dogs tearing at what’s left of her severed leg–and snaps. No longer will he be “soft” on evil. In case we missed the point, we have to suffer through watching him cleave the murderer’s head again and again. As played by Jackie Earle Haley, Walter Kovacs is a lost child himself. I was sorry to see him destroyed, albeit at his own request, by Dr. Manhattan.
I’m not recommending Watchmen. Save for the above-mentioned monologue, it really isn’t something I need to see twice. I probably could’ve taken it better if it hadn’t been about people wearing costumes and capes. The incongrutity between such childlike fantasy and real life evil is simply too great for them to be juxtposed.
Those of you who visit this site regularly know that I’m a Superman fan. You also know that I have a big problem with the Smallville television show, to wit, it refuses to let him become what he’s meant to be. If the character Tom Welling plays is supposed to end up as Superman, then let him be Superman. Enough already with this game they’re playing, seeing how much stuff from the comics they can cram in while still keeping their whining won’t-abe capeless and grounded. The series is a hodgepodge of elements heedlessly, cynically thrown together. It’s poorly written, confusing, irritating, and frustrating.
But you don’t have to take my word for it. Over at the Superman Homepage, the finest Superman site on the web, Neal Bailey has been saying pretty much the same about Smallville for years. I highly recommend his review of the latest episode, “Persuasion.” You can find it at
http://www.supermanhomepage.com
Some will disagree with the analogy he draws between the end of this episode and the tragic events of 9/11. Regardless, Neal makes a clear, powerful, and passionate statement about who and what Superman ought to be–ideas the producers of this series just don’t seem to understand.
I’m indebted to Ben Merold, Minister at Large with Harvester Christian Church, St. Charles, MO, for the idea that fuels the following:
What makes a good salesman? Let’s put it as a mathematical equation:
Product knowledge
+ Sales Know-How
+ Persuasive Ability
X Achievement Drive
= Sales Effectiveness
Here’s a salesman who knows his product backwards and forwards. Let’s score him a 10 on knowledge. He also knows sales –best market, best time and place to sell, etc. Score him a 8 on sales know-how. Further, he’s a great persuader. He can sell the proverbial refrigerator to an Eskimo. Gotta give him a 9 for persuasive ability. What’s his score so far? 27.
A guy like this ought to be on his way to becoming Salesman of the Year, right? But there’s a problem. He doesn’t have much drive. He sleeps in, comes to work when he feels like it, doesn’t schedule appointments and those he does he forgets about. So, we have to give him a mere 1 for achievement drive. Multiply 28 times 1; he gets 27. That’s not a passing grade in any class, is it?
Here’s another fellow. He sometimes forgets little details about his product like where the widget fits into the discombobulator and so forth. Score him a 5 on knowledge. He doesn’t keep up with the changing market place as he should, but he’s still worth a 5 in sales know-how. You can find people more gifted in transferring their enthusiasm to the customer. Guess that’s another 5. Total so far? 15. But this boy is one hard worker. He’s up early, out early, and home late. He doesn’t take an hour lunch. He has the drive, man! Naturally, we have to give him at least a 9 for that. 15 times 9 equals? 135. That’s more than a passing grade in any class!
Can you see other applications to this “sales chart”? I can think of another–evangelism. Some people really know their Bible. They see needs in their community that only God can fill. There are tremendous communicators, marvelous persuaders. But they’re not accomplishing very much for the Lord. Why? They don’t have the drive, the will, the discipline, the courage. Whatever you want to call it, they’re missing it.
The Gospel has more than enough power in itself to save. We have a “product” like none other. All we have to do is let it loose. But that’ll never happen, not so long as we lack the passion to go where people are, open our mouths, and tell them about Jesus. We can’t just believe it, beloved. We’ve got to do it.
Let’s be clear about something, about who God is. He’s not our pet, our buddy, or our Slot Machine Which Art in Vegas into which we plunk good deeds and niceness in hopes of a pay-off. He is, Ezekiel says, Yaweh Adonai, the Lord God–and He does what He pleases. He is a law unto Himself, accountable to no one. His ways are not our ways; His thoughts not our thoughts. He never explains or defends His actions because He doesn’t have to. If He stepped on our town and crushed it to powder what man could say He owed us any different?
We must understand, God is God. As such, He isn’t obligated to do anything for us, any more than I’m obligated to take a rock home, paint a face on it and make it a pet.
Therefore say to the house of Israel, Thus says the Lord God: It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name, which you have profaned among the nations to which you came. And I will vindicate the holiness of my great name, which has been profaned among the nations, and which you have profaned among them. And the nations will know that I am the Lord, declares the Lord God, when through you I vindicate my holiness before their eyes (Ezekiel 36:22-23, ESV).
God owes us nothing. Until we realize that, whatever He offers will mean nothing to us.
For His own glory’s sake, He looks our way. For the sake of His holy name, He will remove our stony heart and give us a real heart (cf. Ezek. 36:26). This Supreme Being, this Holy One, wholly other than man, performs works of grace and mercy wholly unlike anything we can conceive. Which of us would think of a new heart–not turning over a new leaf, but coming up with a new life! Not pressing on with our moral program, but being born again. Not a spiritual treadmill to sweat on, but the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit. These are things only a holy God could come up with.
Thank God it is in His makeup to give! Thank God that though the great Elohim is complete in His eternal tri-personal being, the Holy Father sent His sinless Son to die and rise again, so that through our faith in Jesus we might receive the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
We’re not Super Bowlers. We’re old movie fans. While 1.6 million Americans watched the Saints and the Colts kick a funny lookin’ punkin up and down the cow pasture (you really must hear Andy Griffith’s hilarious monologue on football), Barb and I enjoyed a five-buck Hot n’ Ready from Little Caesars and DINNER AT EIGHT. Made in 1933, directed by George Cukor, it featured screen greats John Barrymore, Lionel Barrymore, Marie Dressler, Jean Harlow, Wallace Beery, Jean Harlow, and Billie Burke. This was a rare gathering of talent. It was a comedy-drama centered around the plans of Billie Burke’s social-climber to give a dinner party for a famous English couple. Though much talked about, we never see that couple. In fact, they cancel out on Billie to go to Florida. Throughout the day, we follow the lives of the various other couples invited to the soiree, being treated to some of the best acting of the era. We watch Burke throw a hissy fit over the frustration of her plans, see married couple Harlow and Beery trade threats and insults just shy of actual blows, witness the great Barrymore playing essentially himself, a has-been silent-era actor, drinking and blustering through his decline. My favorite of them all was Marie Dressler, playing an aging, but still vivacious former stage actress. She gets some of the best lines, including the last one in the picture, spoken to Jean Harlow. Harlow’s sexy, ditzy platinum blond has startled the older actress, telling her that she’d been reading a book:
Harlow: It’s all about civilization or something. A nutty kind of a book. Do you know that the guy says that machinery is going to take the place of every profession?
Dressler: Oh, my dear, that’s something you need never worry about.
We both enjoyed this one.
Following DINNER, we put in dessert–the Little Rascals. I dozed off on it, but awoke to Barb laughing at the gang–Buckwheat, Alfalfa, and Spanky–in bed together. She had me rewind it so I could watch the scene wherein Buckwheat, who’s using a hot water bottle for his tummy ache, falls asleep. The bottle opens, gushing water onto his bedmates. Each one wakes in turn, wide-eyed, looking back at the other. Nobody had to say what he was thinking. That’s what tickled Barb–and me.
Not long after that we went to bed too. Thankfully, there were no accidents in the night.
My best friend and fellow comics fan, John G. Pierce of Columbus, Ohio, is a long time fan of the Justice Society of America. In an e-mail message entitled “Geoff Johns Gets It Right,” he wrote a very positive review of the last Smallville episode, the long awaited two-hour “event” featuring the JSA. (If anybody’s interested, I’ll post his review.)
I had a big problem with this episode, however, the same basic problem I’ve had with Smallville for a long time, to wit, no Superman–or at least a vastly scaled down, all but unrecognizable version. After nine years, he’s still unable to fly. Instead, he rushed around in a red jacket and blue jeans, since exchanged for a bizarre, black ensemble suggestive of The Matrix and a spaghetti western.
Well. I stood it while other heroes and villains popped up around him with their own powers and costumes relatively intact. I’ve stood it for a long time. But this latest episode, which, I must admit, will surely appeal to fans of the JSA, galled me for the same reason it would appeal to them. I’m talking about how Hawkman, Dr. Fate, and Stripesy (young protege of the late Star Spangled Kid), to say nothing of the rest of their gang, got to be themselves, costumed properly, powered appropriately, even flying up in the sky, while Super… whatever or whoever he is, got to stand around in his long, black Johnny Cash coat and watch!
Those of you who’ve followed comics for a long time, know that, after DC cleaned house in the big event of 1986, the Crisis On Infinite Earths. Herein, the basic mythology of the DC realm–considered by some to be too cluttered and unwieldy–was changed. Whereas Superman had been the first of his kind, the forerunner of all super-types, he now became, well, almost an afterthought. In the new continuity, the JSA now precedes Superman in history. To me, that’s sort of on the order of saying George Washington, the father of our country, commander of our revolutionary forces, first president of the U.S., first showed up in the 1800s.
But I began by talking about an e-mail message from my friend, didn’t I? Here’s a portion of our exchange. John Pierce says,
But really, DC short-shrifted Superman when they threw all the parallel worlds into one
after Crisis. Previously, as you’ll recall, Superman was the first hero to appear (at least
in anything approaching modern times) on every Earth on which he existed. By combining
the various worlds into one, that meant that a Superman-less JSA had operated decades
before Superman made his appearance. And that made no sense. They did their #1
character pretty dirty, I thought.
But — if you accept that in other “realities,” Superman is a latecomer to the super-hero
scene, well, then, this episode fits quite well into that scenario. So, yes, that aspect
bothers me. But it is what it is, and given what it is, I felt that this was a good episode.
But it helps to have my long history with the JSA to appreciate it more, I think.
Much as I love and respect my friend, I’m a Superman man, not a JSA (or JLA) man. I’m bone tired of seeing everybody else in proper costume, even flying, except Superman. This episode just poured on the irony in that regard. As a matter of fact, the more I think about it the more annoyed I become.
So, before I forget what’s written at the top of my blog, “Where preacher and pop culture meet,” before I say something I’ll regret, let’s just press “Publish” and go on to something else, shall we?
You yourselves are all the endorsement we need. Your very lives are a letter that anyone can read by just looking at you. Christ himself wrote it – not with ink, but with God’s living Spirit; not chiseled into stone, but carved into human lives – and we publish it…you, written by Christ himself for God, are our letter of recommendation (2 Corinthians 3:3-4 The Message paraphrase).
Hear what he’s saying? Some people spend a lifetime sweating and straining to be successful, famous, to be somebody but they never learn where true significance lies. Paul is telling us we find significance as we touch the lives of people. We write on their lives, leaving an indelible mark.
Paul wasn’t a celebrity, but he knew about celebrity. He knew about credentials and symbols and status. He’d had it—or he was well on his way to getting it–before he chucked it all for Jesus:
Phil 3: 5-7 …circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ (English Standard Version)
Naturally, the items on Paul’s list were things the Jewish culture he grew up in valued. You may not be Jewish, but you’ve got a list of status symbols too. Yet Paul was granted the grace to see what was most important–people! The people God loves, the people Christ died for, the people, dead in sins and trespasses, laying like cold stone, waiting for somebody to write warm life into their lives by the power of the Spirit of the living God!
In simple terms, that means those children we brought into this world are worth every bit of time and effort it takes to raise them properly. What’s more, other people’s kids are worth our time as well. Then there are the aged. I’m amazed at how much the generations are alike. I’ve been around enough of them to know an 80-year-old suffers from some of the same fears and anxieties people decades younger have. He has the same questions about God, Heaven, and Hell a teen-ager does. He has some of the same desires. But we only know that if we spend time with him.
In the end, the world won’t know or care whether we lived or died. But people will. Go, then. Go among them, touch them, speak to them, listen to them. Let the Spirit of God guide your hand as you make the only mark that lasts.
