Category: Christianity

“Yoof” Videos that don’t suck

I just spent the weekend at Y-Net – a great camp for Queensland Christians interested and involved in youth and children’s ministry. It reminded me (when I wasn’t cooking or making coffee) that finding good videos on YouTube is probably just as important as finding the dross I normally dig up.

I quite enjoyed this one – though I’m not sure how well it translates to the Australian market.

Also good, and powerfully compelling, is this Brian Head Welch testimony, he’s the ex-guitarist of the band Korn.

We need more grungy Australian Christians with sordid pasts.

Anybody got a good video I should add to my collection of good videos? Snakes in the bathtub and Friday parodies won’t cut it this time… (though if you have something like that, send it to me…)

The Dr Seuss Gospel

There’s some space in this concept for this to actually be quite clever. I can’t tell if it’s made by an irreverent Christian or some comedy show.

The Back from the Dead Intruder

One can only hope this was produced for some sort of “make a parody of a YouTube hit with a Christian message” competition. And not because these people thought “hey, you know what the world needs – a Christian version of the Bed Intruder song”…

That’s the danger of parodies. It’s really hard to interpret them in context if none is provided. But enough people thought this was a good idea that they volunteered to be part of it…

Via Scotteriology.

Thou shalt not listen to rock’n’roll

It’s almost a year since I discovered the wonders of Jacob Aranza’s Backwards Masking Unmasked. If you’ve missed the anti-rock paranoia of those heady days, here’s a “sermon” for you.

It’s Good Friday, Good Friday, kicken back on Good Friday

I may or may not have internet access between now and Sunday. So in the meantime. Enjoy Easter. Send me chocolate.

An Easter stunt I won’t be pulling tomorrow…

Ahh. Good Friday. The day, unlike all the other days of the Christian life, where we pay attention to the death of Jesus. Oh. Wait.

I am preaching. Preaching on the cross is interesting, because finding a new angle is hard.

This guy, in his pre-Easter sermon, decided to have a rant about how people who visit church just at Easter time dress. And then he decided to climb in a baby pool to keep preaching.

Skip through to 4 minutes 40 for the pool bit. He stays there for the rest of his sermon.

For more interesting reasons, from the Greek, that this guy is an idiot. Read this Scotteriology post.

Why are Christian movies rubbish?

There are three certainties in this life. Death. Taxes. And horrible Christian art. And for some reason, thanks to evangelical superheroes like Stephen Baldwin and Kirk Cameron, Christian crossover movies are going to keep happening. So strap yourselves in for the ride…

Salon ponders just why they’re so bad. In response to the release of a Christian movie you may not have heard of called “Soul Surfer”…

“But do Christian-themed movies really have to be so bad? I won’t even pretend that “Soul Surfer” is the worst film I’ll see this month, since it lacks the overarching, high-concept horribleness of something like “Your Highness.” But it’s a trite, sentimental puddle of sub-Hollywood mush, with mediocre photography, weak special effects and an utterly formulaic script that somehow required seven (!) credited writers. Believe me, I have learned, over and over again, that ordinary moviegoers, a lot of the time, want to see a story that’s positive, predictable and not all that challenging, but even measured on that yardstick this one is pretty awful.”

He makes an interesting assumption about the motives behind the Christian movie industry, essentially that they’re preaching to the choir – trying to reflect Christian values to a Christian audience. Which is doubtless part of the problem.

If evangelical Christians want to see their life and faith and values reflected on-screen, I guess that’s understandable. But movies are not mirrors, and the mass audiences that went to see “The King’s Speech” or “Black Swan” or “The Social Network” didn’t necessarily identify with the characters or their lifestyles.

But that’s not really it. I don’t think. I don’t think Christian movies are preaching to the choir, I think they’re trying to preach to the outsider as well. Which is great – especially if you’re a quality, C.S Lewis style, engager with culture. But typical Christian movies are using the tools of a culture they despise to present a message and a world view. And they do it with no subtlety. Just with a blunt instrument and lots of force. There’s none of the subtlety or nuance that makes cinema compelling.

A letter writer to Salon agrees.

Christian films suck because by and large, the evangelical audience doesn’t want challenging, complex characters or art. They want the same pabulum spoon-fed to them over and over: God has a plan, accept Jesus and be saved, secularists bad, blah blah blah. There’s no shading or nuance or dark ambiguity in Christian cinema; just God and Satan duking it out. That’s why the films are as thudding, leaden and dull as those tracts the Jehovah’s Witnesses try to shove in your face every weekend while you’re trying to watch what you Tivo’d Friday night.

TV Tropes has an article dedicated to the “moral” response to new art forms. Readers of my series of posts on Backwards Masking Unmasked will recognise the work of the “Moral Guardians” and the eventual development of the Contemporary Christian Music industry.

“Sometimes even Moral Guardians have to accept that The New Rock And Roll isn’t going away. They can’t stop people from watching/reading/playing/listening to it, and even if they succeed in instituting a Censorship Bureau, it’s still not up to their standards.

Well, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. If those works aren’t up to their standards, they will make works that are. And they can even throw in a message about their beliefs and views in these works. Thus they make The Moral Substitute.

Most of the time, this runs into the same problem as a Clueless Aesop. The creators put so much emphasis on the moral message that they forget what actually made the movie, book, music, or game good. Things like quality writing, acting, plot, directing, production values, design, gameplay, and quality control are, at best, a distant second. Expect in most cases (both in fictional depictions and, often, in Truth in Television) the resulting product to be a bland imitation infused with an overwhelming sense of smug, Holier Than Thou self-righteousness and / or a moralistic determination to Anviliciously beat you over the head with whatever message they’re trying to get you to conform to.”

Findo posted this quote from a HuffPo interview with Christian musician Derek Webb that explains much of what is wrong with contemporary Christian art.

“the job of any artist is to look at the world and tell you what they see. Every artist, whether they acknowledge it or know it, has a grid through which they view the world and make sense of what they see. Even if it’s a grid of unbelief — that you don’t think there is anything orchestrating the world and that everything is completely random — that is a grid through which you make sense of the world.

A lot of “Christian art” is about the lens they’re looking through, rather than the world they see through it. I’m not going to criticize anybody for doing that, but I would rather look at the world through the grid of following Jesus and tell you what I see. But that doesn’t presume that all the art I’m going to make will be about following Jesus.”

This is why Christian art that is designed as either a cultural apologetic for the Christian life, or a sales pitch, is bad, well, one of the reasons. We’re not just making art that responds to the world as we see it – like Bach did – we’re making art that reflects how we want other people to see the world. Without subtlety, nuance, or appeal. It’s bad art. And it’s a bad sales pitch. And I hate it.

That is all.

Sam Glenn, Christianity’s Jim Carrey, will motivate you and change your life

This, friends, from what I can gather, is a young Sam Glenn, author of such works as Butt Prints in the Sand. No. I’m serious.

It’s some sort of comedic take on the footprint poem.

This is some sort of comedic take on Jim Carrey’s back catalogue of facial expressions.

You can book Sam Glenn as a motivational preacher. His repertoire has since expanded to include chalk art.

And the book “Stop Living Like a Constipated Christian“.

Welcome to the Golden Star Palace

The Golden Star Palace sounds like a Chinese restaurant. But it’s not. It’s much worse.

Raising Righteous and Rowdy Girls – The Video Promo

I mentioned this book a while back. Watch the video. It hasn’t changed my opinion at all.

My favourite quote – “There’s great guys out there, most of them are raised with southern bap- ahh values…”

Rub a dub, dub, a snake in the tub

This video is doing the rounds and it is too bad for me not to post. A yoof leader explains sin by playing with his pet python in his bubble bath. There is no innuendo in that sentence. He literally has a snake in the bath.

Preach the gospel without words – by the power of mime…

I had no idea, until today, that gospel mime was even a ministry category. And then two things happened. First, I discovered K&K.

Watch this amazing intro video first.

And then see them at work.

Then, somewhat serendipitously, Jesus Needs New PR featured this little video from a mime artist named Broadway.

Now. These guys might be a bit too literally into Sir Francis of Assisi. Who is famous for saying (though he probably didn’t) “Always preach the gospel, where necessary use words…”

There is a “Gospel Mime Worldwide Workshop” coming up if you’re interested.

But this is just borderline interpretive dance isn’t it?

These guys should wear these shirts when performing.

PR Strategies and Four Lions’ “Bombing the Mosque”

I’ve been thinking a little, in the last couple of days, about how one changes a paradigm in public opinion, be it in society as a whole, or in a particular community or subset of the population.

My experience in framing a narrative around an issue to move people towards a desired outcome is that you pick a message that resonates with people (a reason to change your mind – based on analysing the situation and identifying needs/wants), and you repeat that message from every available platform. Any platform. Whenever you can. Even taking opportunities that don’t look related and making them related. Until your message gets traction. If it’s a good message it will stick, and you’ll start hearing other people repeating your views until it hits some sort of tipping point (if you’re a Malcolm Gladwell fan) where people believe they’ve come up with a position using their own common sense.

There are shortcuts you can take to get a message across. But they involve a price, usually some harm to the party advocating the position and some collateral damage. Which brings me to possibly my favourite scene from Four Lions, where the most extreme extremist is advocating picking an unlikely terrorism target, the mosque, in order to radicalise the moderates. There’s a language warning on this clip.

This sort of strategy is pretty stupid – but sometimes you’ll look like you’re bombing the mosque (doing something self destructive and stupid) when you’re representing, or presenting, an issue that is controversial and goes against the mainstream. That’s not always the case though. Sometimes changing, or challenging, the “orthodox” position gets a silent majority on side, sometimes pointing out error can bring change (like Wilberforce did), other times it’s worth just taking a stand on principle and paying the price.

Should Christians speak out in the political process?

My answer to the question posed above is “yes”… what’s yours?

Following on from my so called “open letter” about school chaplaincy funding from last week,* I’d like to address one of the comments that made its way back to me via a third party. I won’t name names, lest I betray any confidences…

“[I] wondered if he was too hasty in ruling out involvement of Christians in public discourse in an arena like education”

This isn’t what I’m trying to do at all. I’m actually trying to open a more helpful variety of engaging with the political realm, and those in opposition to Christianity, by hearing their criticisms and concerns, and weighing them up against these five starting assumptions. I’m not advocating that Christians acquiesce to any change in the law that will bring us one step closer to the lion’s den. I don’t have a martyr complex, figuratively or literally.

I don’t know if people have followed along on any of the now quite numerous debates I’ve had online regarding a Christian stance on gay marriage. There have been a few. Here, and elsewhere, and again

Much smarter people than I have disagreed with my position on the relationship between church and state in each of those threads. But because I tend to see my own position in overwhelming clarity, while at least imagining that I have a good grasp of my interlocutor’s arguments, I still haven’t budged.

I think I’d describe my approach to politics as revolving around five poles, or starting assumptions. Perhaps you don’t share them. But at least you’ll understand where I’m coming from.

1. Jesus is the true ruler of the world (Philippians 2). Governments are appointed by God (Romans 13). As Christians our job is to proclaim the gospel to people (Matthew 28), and live such lives among the pagans that our proclamation has some appeal (1 Peter 2).

2. While the earth is the Lord’s, and while he has established guidelines for living lives pleasing to him, and while what the Bible says is sin is sinful… We can not seek to impose Christian morality onto people who don’t have the Holy Spirit, nor should we necessarily try to do that, it is ultimately a bandaid solution if point 1 is not taken into account.

3. Separation of church and state is a good thing, that should be upheld by both church and state – for the sake of clarity on both sides.

4. The nature of a democracy is such that all members of society have equal say about how society is governed, and ultimately it means that the will of the majority will become the law of the land. All parties in a democracy have the right to speak out in favour of their positions, but from a government’s perspective, elected representatives are elected to represent their constituency not to be the puppet of special interest groups (including Christian special interest groups). Special interest groups, or organised lobby groups, aren’t necessarily a bad thing, unless their clout outweighs their supporter base through graft, corruption, or manipulation.

5. Liberal democracies are also focused on providing individual liberties – which are valuable for Christians, especially as they pertain to freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and freedom of public assembly.

Given those points, if you want to speak out like Danny Naliah, Family First, Australian Christian Lobby, or even somebody more moderate – that’s great. You can’t necessarily claim to be speaking for God, or for Christians, though – you’re simply participating in the democratic process. And arguments starting with “The Bible says” or “God says” in a secular society aren’t going to get a long way when we’re increasingly not just secular, but non-religious. But you should feel free to do it. I’m not, in the words of No Doubt, saying “don’t speak” – it’s not my place to suggest that. I’d just love to see Christians thinking before they speak – about why we feel entitled to be able to impose our views on the majority.

I’d love more Christians to be entering into political discourse – even if they disagree with me, perhaps especially then. I don’t think that means starting our own party, or putting together an Australian Christian Lobby that acts just like any other self-interest group with a powerful supporters base. I’d love more Christians to join real parties (and even better, The Greens). That would be a great witness to our love for the world, and would help out with point 1 from above.

I’d especially love more Christians to be speaking out in favour of 3, recognising 2, and being wary of falling foul of point 4. Which is the approach I’m trying to advocate when it comes to both gay marriage and school chaplaincy, and indeed, politics in general.

I’m not saying “don’t say anything” – I don’t know where the notion that I was suggesting this in the chaplaincy post comes from. I’m not about acquiescence – I’d actually rather hear Christians speaking out against government handouts (which was the position I was trying to articulate) rather than just speaking out in favour of them. The truth, so far as I can figure it out, in the chaplaincy debate – is that we don’t really want the government’s money if it means compromising our position in the schools (where we enjoy the ability to teach children about Christianity). We also don’t want chaplains and religious education lumped together so they can be thrown out together. But even if both are, all is not lost. I haven’t really heard many people saying that in this debate – certainly not on Facebook.

Is it possible that our most positive witness is if we argue that God has given us all an amount of liberty (see point 5), but that we hope people use that liberty to live lives pleasing to him, through submitting to the lordship of Jesus? But if they don’t, we don’t want to force them. We don’t want to spoil the time they have on this earth. And we want the right to disagree with them, respectfully, in honouring our own beliefs and traditions.

Is there a danger of losing more than we’re bargaining for because of the way we’re so dogmatically trying to shoehorn everybody into Christian behaviour by organising lobby groups and political parties and not engaging with the world? Family First is never going to be a legitimate political force in Australia. They’re simply a mouthpiece for people who may not admit it but would like to legislate Christian values, or the Danny Naliah types.

The more we appear to be on the fringes, the more we appear to be relying on some sort of special pleading for our own personal point of view in an increasingly diverse nation, and the more we appear to be condemning other people’s exercising of liberties based on our “imaginary friend” and our “2000 year old book”, the less appealing Jesus is… why not let God, through the Holy Spirit, and the Bible, convict people of their sin, and then judge them accordingly – rather than trying to play judge, jury, and executioner ourselves (or at least legislature, judiciary, and executive…).

I’m going to spend the next few days reading through Andrew Cameron’s material (alongside K-Rudd and John Anderson’s material) from the 2005 New College Lectures on Church & State.

*Where, if you care to, you can read how I engage with a couple of atheist Facebook commenters from the platform I’ve outlined above…

Tyndale v More: Men, seasons and the KJV

Sir Thomas More was an interesting chap – lauded for his philosophical writing (like Utopia) and his ability to speak truth to power (see A Man For All Seasons).

But, on the whole, he wasn’t a nice chap. Especially so far as bible translator William Tyndale was concerned.

This piece by atheist polemicist Christopher Hitchens on the literary merit of the King James Version is fascinating (on a number of levels). Here’s a snippet:

“Until the early middle years of the 16th century, when King Henry VIII began to quarrel with Rome about the dialectics of divorce and decapitation, a short and swift route to torture and death was the attempt to print the Bible in English. It’s a long and stirring story, and its crux is the head-to-head battle between Sir Thomas More and William Tyndale (whose name in early life, I am proud to say, was William Hychyns).

Their combat fully merits the term “fundamental.” Infuriating More, Tyndale whenever possible was loyal to the Protestant spirit by correctly translating the word ecclesia to mean “the congregation” as an autonomous body, rather than “the church” as a sacrosanct institution above human law. In English churches, state-selected priests would merely incant the liturgy. Upon hearing the words “Hoc” and “corpus” (in the “For this is my body” passage), newly literate and impatient artisans in the pews would mockingly whisper, “Hocus-pocus,” finding a tough slang term for the religious obfuscation at which they were beginning to chafe.

The cold and righteous More, backed by his “Big Brother” the Pope and leading an inner party of spies and inquisitors, watched the Channel ports for smugglers risking everything to import sheets produced by Tyndale, who was forced to do his translating and printing from exile. The rack and the rope were not stinted with dissenters, and eventually Tyndale himself was tracked down, strangled, and publicly burned.”

Tyndale’s work was a precursor to the KJV. Hitchens waxes lyrical about the literary benefits of the KJV in this article, which you should read, and be ready to quote, the next time somebody tells you that religion poisons everything.

“Though I am sometimes reluctant to admit it, there really is something “timeless” in the Tyndale/King James synthesis. For generations, it provided a common stock of references and allusions, rivaled only by Shakespeare in this respect. It resounded in the minds and memories of literate people, as well as of those who acquired it only by listening. From the stricken beach of Dunkirk in 1940, faced with a devil’s choice between annihilation and surrender, a British officer sent a cable back home. It contained the three words “but if not … ” All of those who received it were at once aware of what it signified. In the Book of Daniel, the Babylonian tyrant Nebuchadnezzar tells the three Jewish heretics Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego that if they refuse to bow to his sacred idol they will be flung into a “burning fiery furnace.” They made him an answer: “If it be so, our god whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thy hand, o King. / But if not, be it known unto thee, o king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.”

A culture that does not possess this common store of image and allegory will be a perilously thin one. To seek restlessly to update it or make it “relevant” is to miss the point, like yearning for a hip-hop Shakespeare. “Man is born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward,” says the Book of Job. Want to try to improve that for Twitter? And so bleak and spare and fatalistic—almost non-religious—are the closing verses of Ecclesiastes that they were read at the Church of England funeral service the unbeliever George Orwell had requested in his will: “Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man goeth to his long home. … Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. / Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was.”