Over at the God’s Politics blog there is a post exploring the SBC’s recent pulling of a magazine featuring women ministers on its cover from their bookstores. Whether or not certain groups want to pretend that women in ministry don’t exist, the reality is that we do and that we are making an impact for the Kingdom.
“When’s the last time you heard God’s voice? What if it was just a second ago and you missed it? Wouldn’t it be amazing to hear God speaking directly to you; to know His counsel and encouragement for today? In Walking with God, John Eldredge, author of the bestsellers Wild at Heart and Captivating, shows you what it’s like to have “conversational intimacy” with the Father. Through personal reflections from his own spiritual life, Eldredge helps you recognize the sound of God’s voice. You can experience a spiritual life more rich and exhilarating than you’ve ever known. “
I’ve read over 100 books since January. None is more extraordinary than John Eldredge’s newest release, Walking With God, (Thomas Nelson, 2008). For more, click here:
http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=25a7575ebf6c3112dbfa
Soon our church is doing the John Eldridge’s “Wild at Heart: Road Map to the Masculine Spiritual Journey” (yes that’s REALLY the name) for a men’s bible study.
I think John may be trying MAN-UP Christianity, and make it more appealing to manly guys. Make it more marketable or something. Does this imply the feminine is bad? I realize that approx 60-70% of churches attendees consist of women in Evangelicalism and things are geared toward them and may tend to be to their tastes (songs and music styles for instance), and this attendance stat isn’t true is Islam or Judaism or Orthodox Christianity, so some think new tactics are needed maybe. But it seems superficial, even insulting to men, actually.
Care to weigh in?
Many commentators (on both sides of the political spectrum) claim the U.S. is divided pretty much 50/50 — Republican and Democrat. The elections are simply tight elections… both sides get panicky, and yes, nasty.
You know, I just have not heard the terms “Red States and Blue States” as much as last Presidential election. Have you?
Could this be because the lines are different now because of the issues or maybe because of the candidates, or maybe something else?
I wonder are the lines blurring this time… and also some people jumping to the side they didn’t before, etc?
Any thoughts?
AND Do YOU think this country is 50/50?
“Long ago, when I was a young man, my father said to me, “Norman, you like to write stories.” And I said “Yes, I do.” Then he said, “Someday, when you’re ready you might tell our family story. Only then will you understand what happened and why.”
These are the poignant, mysterious lines opening Robert Redford’s A River Runs Through It (1992, PG). I mention it here because the story centers around family, relationships, and faith. Because it turned out to be a surprise.
I missed this movie when it first came out and just saw it recently on video. It was a garage sale cast-off. My neighbor couldn’t sell it and gave it to me. I watched it, didn’t like it, and promptly consigned A River to dust bunny exile until another friend suggested I check out the soundtrack. I did. Something unexpected happened while listening to Mark Isham’s Academy-Award nominated score over and over again: I began to understand the movie’s unspoken undercurrents and emotion. Intrigued by its hauntingly beautiful music, I decided to give A River another go. I’m glad I did.
Set in the early 20th century in Missoula, Montana, this enigmatic story centers around brothers Norman (Craig Sheffer) and Paul (Brad Pitt) Maclean, two sons of a Scottish Presbyterian minister played with consummate skill by Tom Skerritt. The quintessential big brother, Norman is reserved, scholarly and sensitive. Younger sibling Paul(ie) is rebellious, loquacious, a hard drinker, gambler, and brawler. Neither is an entirely agreeable character, neither is entirely disagreeable. Like most real people, these brothers have unique strengths and weaknesses and try to help each other through life without fully understanding who the other person truly is.
While I still don’t “like” A River Runs Through It in the sense that it’s an upbeat, easy-to-watch, “feel good” fluff piece. It’s not. Instead, the movie offers a rare blend of affection, distance, dimension, beauty, insight and heartbreak that’s both mysterious and captivating. At times the river seemingly embodies the Maclean family history: placid and serene on the surface, with occasional ripples and swells suggesting deep water or dangerous rapids ahead.
Based on a novella by author Norman Maclean, through whose eyes the story is told, the screenplay brings a literary quality to the screen that’s beautiful and moving. Combined with Academy-Award winning cinematography, solid performances all-around, and a story that’s alternately evocative, taciturn, lively, and tragic, A River Runs Through It represents a formidable cinematic achievement of depth, perception, and substance.
In the opening sequences, both young boys and father are united in their love for nature, the Big Blackfoot River and fly-fishing. Rev. Maclean teaches his boys the fine art of casting to a four-count rhythm cadenced by a metronome. Along the river they share experiences, casting techniques, stunning scenery, stories and life. Fishing scenes throughout the film create the sense that each man is at peace with himself and each other at the river while remaining distinctly separate and alone, as does the whole family in this elegant, elegiac story.
Much of the power of this story is gained from its subtlety, which is created and sustained by the narration and masterful direction of Robert Redford. Rather than resorting to spectacular special effects, mind-numbing dialogue or the gratuitous sex and violence so commonly employed by lesser storytellers with thinner plots, A River doesn’t insult its audience’s intelligence, but expects us to pick up on cues and clues peppered throughout the screenplay with just enough seasoning to maintain full flavor. A refreshing change from the typical bash-you-over-the-head-with-its-point kind of movie, A River relies on nuance to convey its message.
Some viewers – perhaps the less literary among us – have tagged this movie “boring.” So did I, until I gave it a second chance. The story moves at a graceful pace while requiring viewers to engage their minds and hearts to follow a film that ultimately offers more questions than answers.
Underlying themes may include a covert sibling rivalry between Norman and Paul. It breaks into the open just once – in a kitchen fist fight – but the undercurrents in tone, gesture, facial features and other non-verbals continue throughout the film. The movie obliquely hints at a dichotomy between Paulie “the tough guy” whose ready grin and lackadaisical, lassie-faire attitude belie an inner insecurity and perhaps some envy toward his “Rock of Gibraltar,” respectable older brother. Note Paulie’s reaction to Norman’s announcement regarding the offer of a professorship at a prestigious university in Chicago. Paulie doesn’t respond verbally, but his face and eyes speak volumes. This is coupled with Paulie’s subsequent decline of Norman’s invitation to join him and his future bride, Jessie, in leaving Montana to write for a Chicago newspaper.
“Come with us” Norman urges. “Oh, “I’ll never leave Montana, brother,” Paulie replies, chewing his lip before plunging back into the river with his rod. From the way the line is delivered and Norman’s reaction, you’re not sure if it’s a rebuke, a prophecy, or an eulogy. Whatever it is, the assertion underscores Paulie’s continuing struggle to find his own way in life outside of his big brother’s shadow. He then determinedly skims down the rapids to land an “unbelievable” fish. Narrates Redford, “At that moment I knew, surely and clearly, that I was witnessing perfection.”
“You are a fine fisherman!” proclaims Rev. Maclean as “mother’s pictures” are snapped by Norman.
“My brother stood before us, not on a bank of the Bigfoot River, but suspended above the earth, free from all its laws, like a work of art. And I knew, just as surely and clearly, that life is not a work of art, and that the moment could not last.”
*** SPOILER ALERT ***
Norman’s premonition proves true in the movie’s compelling closing scenes. The Missoula police inform Norman that his brother has been found dead, “beaten to death by the butt of a revolver.” We’re not told exactly how or why this happened, but gather that Paul’s murder is connected to his gambling debts and profligate lifestyle.
The impact on the family is quietly immense. Echoing themes throughout the movie, family members are both together and alone in their grief at the same time. Visibly shaken, his mother wordlessly retires upstairs. “Is there anything else you can tell me?” Rev. Maclean quietly asks.
“Nearly all of the bones in his hand were broken” replies Norman grimly, his stoic monotone belying a face etched with pain, shock, and traces of guilt.
Pause. His father, still in his bathrobe, stands and gently asks, “Which hand?”
“His right hand.”
As has occurred before in this under-stated film, the obvious is left unsaid: Paul’s right hand was his fly-fishing casting hand. We get the impression that Norman spends the rest of his days struggling with his brother’s untimely death as well as the bigger question: Who was this brother of mine? It’s a universal question, a question we can all ask of at least one other person in our lives, maybe more.
“Maybe all I really knew about Paul is that he was a fine fisherman” Redford narrates. “`You know more than that’,” my father said. ‘He was beautiful.’ And that was the last time we ever spoke of my brother’s death.”
Only at the end does it become clear that Paul is meant to be a beautiful mystery. He’s an enigma to viewers because Norman can’t understand him any better than we can. Shortly before his own death, Rev. Maclean preaches a sermon that sums up the meaning of the film: “It is those we love and should know who elude us. But we can still love them. We can love completely, without complete understanding.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJkzmS_WTQI&feature=related
A River isn’t for everyone. (I found the profanity and alcoholic consumption excessive and some minor scenes objectionable but not unreasonable given the subject and its characters.) It’s not an “easy” movie to watch in the sense that you can allow your mind to wander and still pick up on the visual and non-verbal clues concealed within its gentle subtext. This movie takes some attentive digging. But for those who appreciate a lavishly photographed, skillfully sequenced, superbly acted and subtlely nuanced study of family life and relationships, A River Runs Through It is one of the finest, which is why I’m posting a woefully belated review here. Maybe you missed it like me. If you can find it, A River is worth the time and effort (NOTE: not for young children or the faint-hearted).
“I am haunted by waters” is the final emotion-laden line of this remarkable movie. An old man who’s out-lived nearly everyone he loved, Norman once again stands solo in the river with his fly-fishing rod and his memories. “Alone in the half-light of the canyon with the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise. … Eventually, all things merge into one. And a river runs through it. I am haunted by waters.” Bring Kleenex.
The Chocolate Cake Sutra, by Geri Larkin, is a fun and nuanced look into the lifestyle and actions that lead to a “Sweet Life.” Larkin writes as a Jesus-friendly Buddhist and her prescriptions sound familiarly scented not only with “Sweet Life,” but with the Abundant Life offered when we live in harmony with the Spirit and act in ways that incarnate the kingdom of God.
You can find a review here .
The prologue and introduction are full of fodder for growth and an interchange of ideas. Let’s start with the story Larkin tells of a “young man named Eugene who was desperate to find a truly holy person with whom he could study.” After much searching, Eugene eventually happens upon a guy in woods who works for a hot-shot holy woman called Jaya, who has an incredible reputation for what she can do for her students’ spirituality. It takes Eugene taking three years and many near-death experiences to even gain admittance into Jaya’s complex, where he is instructed to wait in the shrine room. Eugene is told it won’t be long before Jaya is able to meet with him.
So Eugene waits. But he really has to pee.
“‘I have to go to the bathroom,’” Eugene says to Jaya’s assistant.
“‘You have to stay in the shrine room.’”
Eugene sure waits his best, and at last, hours later, he aims at a corner of the shrine room and pees like nobody’s business, whereupon he is dragged away by two acolytes, with the largest bellowing,
“‘How dare you!’”
“‘You show me a place that isn’t holy, and I’ll pee there!’”
“‘He stays’.”
“It was Jaya.”
1. What is your reaction to this approach to the holy?
2. What can communities of Christian disciples learn from this story that can be applied to worship?
In her introduction, Larkin isn’t afraid to deal a significant blow (or is it constructive criticism?) to her celebrity crush, on a serious count of spiritual arrogance.
Larkin writes, “The Interview was about a movie he had just directed. It was about Jesus Christ. As a card-carrying Buddhist, I have have always been moved to tears by the last hours of Jesus. Even as I write, I can barely fathom the depth of love and compassion for the people harming him. It is the best love story ever.” Larkin goes on to describe the situation that sparked her accusation:
My crush was responding to criticisms of his interpretation of the story…As I remember it, the interviewer asked how he would respond to someone criticizing his film.
A pause. ‘I’d forgive them.’
Oh, no. The arrogance in his voice told me he had it wrong. It was that ‘I’m-better-than-you tone that gives me the goose bumps because it’s the same tone that says ‘You don’t get God because he’s ours.’
3. What is it like for you to read about a non-Christian pouring her heart out over her love of Jesus? What feelings and ideas come up for you?
4. What is your sensibility about what differentiates self-perceived spiritual accuracy from self-deceived spiritual pride?
5. What’s your favorite story or quote in the book so far?
