Which isn't to say it's a bad movie, because it's excellent, maybe even great--original, innovative, riveting, heartbreaking, unforgettable. Many had feared that the film would be exploitative, but "United 93" is exactly the opposite of that. In telling the story of the fourth plane on Sept. 11--the one that crashed as the passengers attempted to retake it from the hijackers--the filmmakers do away with all Hollywood conventions and opt for a documentary-style reenactment. We don't see the characters' back stories or their surviving relatives; no husbands kissing their wives good-bye for the last time, no lucky latecomer who just missed the flight, no orphans remembering their lost mom. Nothing, in fact, that we'd expect from a disaster-of-the-week film.
Instead, director Paul Greengrass tells the story in real-time, from just before takeoff to its tragic crash in a Pennsylvania field, jumping back and forth between the goings-on inside the airplane, the confusion among air-traffic controllers, and the too-little, too-late efforts by the military to retake American airways. Even the passengers' rebellion against the terrorists is presented without adornment, not as some sort of macho militaristic battle, but as what it was: The last desperate, heartbreaking attempt by a group of doomed people to take control of their fate.
Watching "United 93" was truly like re-experiencing Sept. 11. My heart started pounding the minute the plane's doors closed, and it didn't stop until after I returned to my office when it was over. Yes, this movie is a respectful, fitting memorial to the deceased heroes who fought back and prevented their flight from destroying the Capitol or another Washington building. Yes, I learned a lot about what these passengers must have went through, and gained some insight into how the air-traffic controllers and military officers reacted--sometimes as heroes, sometimes as bumblers, sometimes as both at once--to an unprecedented situation.
But is all of that a good thing? Do we want to go to the movies to re-experience the greatest American trauma of our time? Not me. Don't get me wrong; I am not someone who thinks all movies need to be happy, and I believe that film plays an important role in how we as a society talk about and work through important issues. But I don't see how this particular film furthers that conversation; it's certainly well intentioned and very well made, but it ultimately fails to go deeper than the surface. And we've all experienced that surface--in endless news coverage and in our own horrific memories--too much already. I can understand showing this movie at the planned United 93 memorial or at Sept. 11 memorial commemorations. But as one of the choices at your local multiplex, it's hard for me to understand why people would choose to bring themselves back so viscerally to that traumatic day--or what they'd get out of it.
A Jewish comedian claimed not long ago that he grew up thinking that all the comic-book superheroes were Jewish, because, like, say, Goldman and Federrman, all their names end in “man”: Spiderman, Batman, Superman...
A report on MSNBC this week examined more seriously the topic of religion in comics, which are growing more concerned with faith, according to the story. The American superhero’s origin in Judaism have been explored, both in fact (click here for an essay on Superman and the Golem) and fiction, most famously in Michael Chabon’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel, “The Adventures of Kavalier and Klay.” MSNBC’s reporter interviews several academics who point out the growing interest comic-book writers have taken in religion, to gratify an their audience that is increasingly adult, and, like the country as a whole, increasingly religious.
The theme pops up too on Progressive U., a national student blog, in an interesting essay about the essential religious nature of comics. The author portrays comics as modern pop mythologies—you know, the boogie-man stories equivalent to cave paintings that we flatter ourselves our society doesn’t indulge in anymore. Comic books, the essay claims, allows us to feel awe—mostly concocted but sometimes taking a share of reality, as in the nearly wordless 9/11 installment of “The Amazing Spiderman.”
For the record, with due respect to my Jewish brothers and sisters, Batman was an Episcopalian, and Superman a Methodist, as you can read here.
Tom Cruise fans—those who read the gossip mags these days with paper bags over their heads—must wonder, Why does Tom do it? Why pounce on Oprah’s sofa? Why pooh-pooh post-partum depression? Why placenta? Why does he insist on announcing that the birth of his child was “very spiritual”?
Okay, the last of these is the least of his recent embarassments, but it’s one that rallied me to Cruise’s defense. I had a twinge when the prankster squirted Tom in the face with a water gun shaped like a microphone, but I tilted when Tom’s claim about "spiritual" childbirth popped up in nearly every headline about his post-partum chat with ABC’s “20/20”; the media is either proud of Tom’s perceptive description of watching childbirth or wants his comment entered as another data point that he’s gone off his nut. I suspect the latter.
Since his cringe-inducing performance on "Oprah," we’re all to understand that Tom has taken permanent leave of his senses or is intolerably self-obsessed. “Is there any experience that isn’t totally intense and utterly incredible with this man?” wrote one columnist. Isn’t that, though, just about the best definition available of “spiritual”? The same question, asked about the Dalai Lama, would come off as praise.
Similarly, instead of using Oprah’s sofa as a trampoline, should Tom have mewled that Kat is his best friend? Okay, Tom could tone down the kooky pseudo-psychiatry and lay off the placenta. Or better yet, take some acting roles that measure up to his “private” weirdness. Artists are supposed to revolt us, challenge us, be rash and generally be in the vanguard. So I say, Take pride, Tom fans. You have nothing to lose but your bags.
Last night I attended the most violent concert I've ever been to—and believe me, I've been to a lot of them. The thing is, this one was a Christian show.
I've wanted to see the rock-rap-reggae band P.O.D. live for a long time. They're one of the best mainstream acts around and it just so happens they're Christians. Not the in-your-face kind, though—and, like so many other artists of faith out there, they don't like to be classified as a "Christian" band. They're a band whose members happen to be Christian, and who promote positive messages about life and love and God in their music, without inserting "Jesus" into every chorus.
Before the show—at the Nokia Theater in New York City--I waited on the open floor close to the stage for the first of three opening acts. I relaxed, and anticipated the night would be full of good, loud music I could dance and bop my head to. It didn't exactly go that way.
The first act, Maylene and the Sons of Disaster, a Christian hardcore metal band, approached the stage and immediately launched into their first song—screaming and thrashing about. As I strained to hear the music, I felt a punch to my back. I turned around, and a huge mosh pit had formed behind me. That's cool, I thought, I could deal with it. I grew up during the grunge era and have been to a lot of shows where pits opened up. No biggie. I'd just try to move away to another spot on the floor.
Then, it happened. Instantly, the pit transformed from a lively group of people jumping around and dancing erratically to a dangerous circle of violence and aggression. The group, at this point about 10-15 people, mainly guys, began punching and kicking everyone on the edges of the circle. I am familiar with this wild, aggressive "slam dancing," but would never expect it at "Christian show." Besides, there are certain unwritten rules to participating in a mosh pit--namely, no punching or kicking, especially people outside of the pit.
I was pushed to another side of the dance floor, along with my friend who'd accompanied me to the show. I found a "safe" spot, away from the mayhem, and tried to get back into the music. It was kind of difficult to though, since the drummer constantly threw drumsticks into the crowd, and not once, but twice, almost poked in the eye. The lead singer also thought it was Christianly to spit into the crowd at least five times per song.
The next band, The Chariot--which has been described as Christian southern metalcore (I don't make up the genre names, people)--had a similar sound to Sons of Disaster, though with an interesting country sound. Another mosh pit quickly opened behind me. I didn't know about it until a tall teenage boy went flying into me, kicking me in the back of the head. I've never been kicked in the head at a mainstream concert, and here I was, getting beat up at a Christian show. Would Jesus would go for this kind of behavior? If he does, I certainly didn't get that memo.
As I tried to move away from the new pit, I glanced toward the stage to see the lead singer using the microphone stand as a sword, pretending to chop the heads off some of the people in the front of the stage.
Pillar, a hard-rock band composed of Christians came on next. (In an interview with Beliefnet last year, singer Rob Beckley objected to the label "Christian band," calling it "stupid," adding, "The Beastie Boys aren't Buddhist hip-hop"). At this point in the show, a big smoke cloud filled the air. Kids everywhere were smoking pot. "At least this will calm them down," I thought.
Oh, was I was wrong.
A fight broke out toward the end of Pillar's set, but luckily I was out of harm's way
. However, I didn't get to enjoy the rest of the performance as much as I would have liked to, because I was constantly watching my back to make sure I wasn't punched or maimed. Overall though, Pillar put on a great show, singing some new material off their upcoming album, as well as old favorites like, "Bring Me Down."
Finally, P.O.D. came on, and they were every bit as wonderful as I imagined they'd be. Although plagued by some technical difficulties, the band was composed and polite and got the entire crowd singing many of their hits, including "Will You," "Boom," and "Youth of the Nation." It was a stellar performance, which coupled a great selection of hits with lead singer Sonny Sandoval's visable passion for the music he was singing.
At one point, Sandoval threw water into the crowd--something common at many hard rock shows where the audience gets hot and sticky. Although I had seen this many times before, it took on a new meaning at this show. It was if Sonny was baptizing the crowd, not into his religion, but into his music. It was very touching to see this. It almost made up for an entire night of being battered and bruised by an unruly crowd.
May is about here and with it comes the kickoff of the summer movie season, which looks like it will be far different than last summer, when May's bombs and semi-bombs included “Kingdom of Heaven,” “Monster-in-Law,” and “Kicking and Screaming,” all landing with a box office thud that lasted all summer long.
It looks like the studios are making up for it this year, kicking off with “Mission: Impossible III” this weekend, followed by “Poseidon” on May 12, “The Da Vinci Code” on May 19, and “X-Men: The Last Stand” on May 26. I hope they’re good, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to notice that they’re certainly safe, at least for the studios. “M-I 3” and “X-Men” are sequels, “Poseidon” is a remake, and “Da Vinci” is the screen version of the book that’s been a best seller for what seems like a thousand weeks.
The trend will continue throughout the summer with sequels and remakes, including another Superman reincarnation in “Superman Returns,” another Johnny Depp turn in “Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest,” a modern version of “The Man Who Came to Dinner” called “You, Me and Dupree, ” a big-screen “Miami Vice,” and “Garfield’s A Tale of Two Kittens.”
In the business of movies, these are as much franchises as they are films, which is good for business and hopefully entertaining for us. But I don't expect too much new to be said for the spiritual person looking to learn and reflect on life through art, as franchise films can't really risk saying too much. That's a shame, and I hope there's room in the market for films which still try and say something. A franchise which did that would be even more welcome, at least by me.
One of the reasons Fox’s “House” receives so much critical acclaim is because even when this medical drama tackles a topic that has been done to death on other TV shows, it finds a way to present an old story with a new twist. Last night’s episode, “House vs. God” is a perfect example: The cranky, bitter doctor treats a patient who claims he is a faith healer who receives messages directly from God.
However, instead of making a mockery of this boy as a misguided religious fanatic--which would be the strategy most shows employ--"House" cleverly centered on the doctors' responses to the teenage boy, addressing the question of belief in a supreme being from a variety of viewpoints.
After the boy believes he has healed another patient in the ward, and the patient begins to show progress, House's staff become fascinated with the possibility that they may have witnessed a miracle. House, intent on proving that his patient is no miracle worker, responds by barking such comments as, “There is nothing in this universe that cannot be explained," and, “If God talks to you, you are either a scam artist or psychotic.” His co-workers confront House’s doubt in a divine being by offering such reflections as, “If a higher power exists, it is different than our minds as a species can conceive," and, “Some people's faith is more than symbolic.”
Better yet, his friend, the oncologist Dr. Wilson, explains why House refuses to acknowledge God: “A supreme being can squash you. You hate not being in control. That's why religion bugs you.” Ouch. That hit a little too close to home for the Vicodin-popping Gregory House.
After an hour of twists and turns, featuring some of the best spiritual debate I have seen in a TV drama in ages, came the conclusion, in which the boy is discovered to have an outbreak of herpes from a sexual encounter. A frustrating end? Not for me. The conclusion of the episode finds all of House’s co-workers confronting the doctor's smugness at the fact that he uncovered a fraud; they make clear they've retained their faith in spite of all that occurred. As Wilson tells his buddy House, “It’s possible to believe in something and still not live up to it.”
Better yet, Wilson follows up that statement by reminding his skeptical buddy, “House, you are as God made you.”
Kudos to Walden Media on its lengthy profile in this week's Entertainment Weekly. Though not (yet) a household name, Walden is the company behind "The Chronicles of Narnia" movie, as well as "Holes," "Because of Winn-Dixie," and the upcoming "Hoot" and "Charlotte's Web." EW, the arbiter of all things hip in Hollywood, offers a detailed look at the phenomenal success of this young company--a success, as the magazine says, that is "fueled by its exclusive focus on Hollywood's least sexy genre: the family film." Yes, the much-maligned, oft-mocked family flick is enjoying its moment in the sun. Founded by two old friends, Walden's strategy seems so simple that you (or at least I) would have assumed it'd been done by a million others before them: Ask children's librarians and teachers what books they'd recommend, and then make high-quality films from those books. Done and done.
Paul Sharrat had no luck contacting the late Princess Diana three years ago in a televised séance—well, no luck in the sense that Di refused to speak for the cameras. Sharrat did make some $7 million from viewers willing to pony up a $14.95 pay-per-view fee. That kind of luck encouraged Sharrat to try again. Last night, psychics gathered at John Lennon’s favorite New York restaurant in an attempt to reach out to the former Beatle, as cameras focused on the Strawberry Fields memorial in Manhattan’s Central Park and other Lennon sites.
One participant says he has “no doubt” he heard Lennon break through on one participant’s microphone to call for world peace. Using the phenomenon the psychics call Electronic Voice Phenomenon (EVP), Lennon said, “Peace. The message is peace,” the psychics claim.
Maybe, as he did in life, Lennon was asking to be left in peace. Lennon himself once told Newsweek magazine that he and wife Yoko Ono had tried to communicate with the dead via séance, but today Yoko’s spokesman called the show “tacky.” Sharrat, who calls himself a “dyed-in-the-wool skeptic by nature” declared himself “amazed”—perhaps that Lennon would show for only 9.95 per viewer when Di demurred at $14.95.
You may not think of yourself as a rebel, but if you’re watching TV this week, you’re working against the efforts of Robert Kesten and his team at the TV-Turnoff Network, a Washington, D.C.-based nonprofit that's behind “Turn Off Your TV Week,” which is going on this week. Citing stats and quotes from a wide array of sources, the organization encourages parents to restrict television viewing for their kids, citing research that television is responsible for everything from child obesity to limiting intelligence potential.
The movement has won support and the endorsement of dozens of powerful organizations, such as the American Medical Association, National Education Association, National Medical Association, and literacy groups such as Reading Is Fundamental.
T.S. Eliot, poet and author, once opined, “The remarkable thing about television is that it permits several million people to laugh at the same joke and still feel lonely.”
From the floor of the Senate, these words rang out: “They have certainly won my support and my hearty endorsement. Hallelujah! Turn off that TV... I do want to emphatically stress that there is much more to life than the boring, degrading, demeaning fare on the boob tube. I urge the American people to use this week to break your addiction to television. Just say no! As the TV-Turnoff Network urges, 'Turn off TV, turn on life.'” –Senator Byrd, D-West Virginia.
The movement has also garnered support from those who’ve profited from the dreaded TV, including CNN/TBS’s Ted Turner, who once said, “TV is the single most significant factor contributing to violence in America.”
Perhaps you’re concerned that American children may spend more time in front of the television than in school this year. Perhaps it strikes you as odd that 40% of Americans regularly watch television during dinner. Perhaps you’d like to reflect more about this…
…but “24” is coming on, then the Clippers, the news, Leno, Conan. I gotta go. Tomorrow comes early!
Can lifelong friendships be torn apart by money when some of your friends have lots of it but others don’t? Are the age old proverbs "Money is the root of all evil" and "Money can’t buy happiness" actually true? Jennifer Aniston’s latest movie, “Friends With Money”--if you believe all the commercials and reviews out there--is supposed to ask those exact questions. The movie follows the lives of four women in Los Angeles who navigate their relationships with each other, with the men in their lives, and with money. Olivia ( Aniston) is a former schoolteacher who smokes pot, dates the wrong men, and scrubs people’s toilets for a living, while her three best friends all have successful careers, affluent lifestyles, and--on the surface--happy families. The movie is slightly unpredictable--the humor comes out of the most unlikely moments--and there are some brilliant performances to be enjoyed ( Frances Mc Dormand in particular), yet in many ways, “Friends with Money” doesn’t quite, well, pay off in the end.
While watching these four women talk... and talk... and talk... about how unhappy they are, I slowly began to realize that “Friends With Money” is not about money at all. Not really. The root of their unhappiness--with jobs, with spouses, with themselves--is directly linked to the lies they have been telling themselves for years. Christine (Catherine Keener) lies to herself abut many things, including that her husband is a swell guy and that she and her husband’s lavish lifestyle in the form of a remodeling project is not impacting their neighbors' lives. Fashion designer Jane (McDormand) lies to herself about why she is depressed and hasn’t washed he hair in months , while her husband lies to himself about not really being gay. Meanwhile, Franny (Joan Cusack), who is the richest of the friends, lies to herself every time she doesn’t tell her husband that she thinks he is being too extravagant in the way he spends their money on their child.
And then there’s Olivia. She lies to herself by telling herself it’s easier, and better, to not care about anything.
By the end of the film, I wasn't quite sure what the director wanted me to take away from this story, because there was no real resolution to the plot. But I will say that in spite of the movie's flaws, I liked this examination of what causes the spiritual disconnect inside of ourselves. I just wish that sometimes Hollywood would realize that when it comes to storytelling, it is not always enough to raise important questions, but is also necessary to give some glimpses at some possible solutions as well.
For fans of "Crossing Jordan" (a CSI-meets-grown up-Nancy Drew weekly drama), the tantalizing question on Sunday night's episode was: Who Would Kill a Saint? A woman's body--wearing a silver cross--is discovered buried in a forest. As the crime-scene photographer leans in to take her photo, he suddenly steps back and makes the sign of the cross. In a surprising revelation, the photographer identifies the dead woman as a member of his church, a woman "touched by God" and possessing the gift of raising the dead to life.
As Jordan Cavanaugh investigates the murder, a motley crew of characters are introduced: (a) A teenage boy who "dies" after being hit by a car and who "comes back to life" 20 days after Isabel prays for him; (b) a Vatican priest with diplomatic immunity who is caught in Isabel's apartment looking for evidence of sainthood; and (c) an embittered father who questions his faith after his daughter dies.
Despite the religious premise, the writers of the rationale-centered show aimed to please the non-religious audience at the expense of the religious among us. In subtle twists, Isabel's "gift" and the Vatican priest's credibility are both chipped away. Crackpot theorist and forensics expert Nigel excitedly explains how the teen boy never really died (due to a combination of flat-fronted car impact and sub-zero weather)--only to discover the boy overhearing his theory and losing faith in Isabel. While the Vatican priest's investigation is noble, his motives are questioned when he is discovered having "broken" into Isabel's apartment in the middle of the night and rummaging for evidence in her underwear drawer. Nigel also questions whether the priest killed Isabel in order to make her a legend and propel the Vatican into national news.
While the embittered father's plotline is the most convincing, his pain most palpable, the discovery of his murderous crime cements the destruction of any religious audience's credibility. The religious are caricatured and stripped down: A boy of blind faith believes too readily in miracles and loses his faith at the first hint of science, a Vatican priest is questioned as being sneaky and evasive, and a father's rage is channeled into committing the ultimate sin of murder.
Science is exalted and ultimately overtakes faith, leaving it stale, clichéd, and unbelievable.
The most recent Gilmore Girls opened with Rory and Lane helping Mrs. Kim carry a large, golden Buddha into her house/antique shop. "Take down the crucifixes!" she hollered at Lane. This was all in preparation for Lane and Zach's traditional Buddhist home wedding.
What? Is the Chinese food at Jack's Pancake World polluting their brains? The Korean Kims are decidedly Christian, much to Lane's frequent chagrin and occasional pride. But as we soon learn, Lane's grandmother is coming to town and Mrs. Kim has never told her mother of her conversion. As Lane stuffs the crucifixes under the same loose floorboards that hide her Elvis Costello CDs, she marvels that at least two generations of Kim women have lives totally hidden from their hyper-critical, dogmatic mothers. When the eldest Kim arrives, dressed in a Mao-collared peasant dress, she fusses over Lane, speed-yells in Korean, and when Lane and Rory leave, mother and daughter lay down a towel and begin wildly prostrating in front of the Buddha.
Shocking stuff for those of us who have watched Mrs. Kim send Lane to Korean Bible camp, preach about values, and melt down when her daughter had male roommates. This thread continues when, after the short Buddhist ceremony (in which Lane and Zach wear elaborate traditional garb), grandma leaves abruptly in a cab and everyone else runs to the church for a second, Christian wedding. Minus the cringe-inducing moment just before the ceremony in which Mrs. Kim gravely warns a lace-covered Lane that she'll "have to do it," it's a sweet ceremony with a dove-and-rainbow banner hung behind the pastor.
Later, when Mrs. Kim apologizes for the double wedding, Lane says, sincerely, that it actually made the day more special. Back in his "silky" Buddhist wedding gown, Zach says, "This is so comfortable, no wonder Buddhists are so peaceful." Then Lane's notoriously fun-proof mom promises to go home and put in earplugs (hinting at a generational healing; don't-ask-don't-tell is a step from hiding under the floorboards), beginning the real, booze- and rock-fueled reception; Lorelei removes the long skirt on Lane's dress to reveal a tulle mini. Zach whoops, "My wife has legs!"
So does this continually well-written, funny, fast-talking show, with its respect, mockery, and deft narration of a surprisingly wide and subtle variety of realities and belief systems.
The best overall plot line for J.J. Abrams's "Alias" has always been the mysteries surrounding Milo Rimbaldi, the 15th century apocalyptic philosopher-inventor, which was Arvin Sloane's obsession for most of the first three seasons of the show and the cause of a good deal of espionage on the part of all the show's characters. The infamous Rimbaldi is the creator of a multitude of precious objects and puzzles that have taken Sydney and company on countless Indiana Jones-like journeys in an effort to beat out other tomb-raiders as they attempt to retrieve Rimbaldi artifacts the world over. And of course, most interestingly of all, Rimbaldi is the author of the cryptic prophetic texts that supposedly ensnare Sloane's daughter, Nadia Santos, Sidney Bristow, and possibly their mother Irina Derevko into their potentially catastrophic futuristic predictions.
Seasons four and five, unfortunately, dropped the Rimbaldi plot line for the most part, leaving the show without its original drive and the intensity of impending apocalyptic doom with Sidney at its heart. (Though the finale for season four was an all out sci-fi Rimbaldi related disaster a la Sloane who was back on the Rimbaldi wagon after having quit for a while.)
As Alias returned Wednesday night for its final episodes after a several months-long break (following the announcement it was being canceled), I hoped for a resurrection of Rimbaldi. Yet alas, it was still all Prophet Five (yet another anti-government conspiracy group that is after Sidney), with nary a mention of the longtime Rimbaldi mystery. The show's earlier advertisements promised a return of favorite characters Will and Irina, which was encouraging, and Wednesday night's episode indeed saw the return of Irina in full, ruthless, mama-agent glory, and as the mysterious leader of Prophet Five (could "prophet" refer to that prophet, as in that "Milo Rimbaldi Prophet"?).
I am holding out hope that as Irina is woven further back into the plot, we will also see a more explicit return of Mr. Rimbaldi, and ideally a resolution of what "The Prophecy" really has in store for Sidney Bristow once and for all (perhaps a Rimbaldi savior-like baby a la Sidney?). Only time will tell... and well, the last four episodes of the series itself.
In Wednesday night's "Invasion" episode, "Re-Evolution" (the first new episode aired in over a month), Everglades park ranger Russell Varon theorizes that the hybrids (humans crossed with aliens) beginning to overrun the once-quiet town of Homestead, Fla., are a new link in the evolutionary chain. Russell's speculation sparks brother Dave to wonder, albeit in a horrified manner, that if Russell's right, regular humans might become the contemporary version of the Neanderthal in comparison to the higher functioning hybrids.
Meanwhile, Father Scanlon (the priest who unwittingly turned hybrid) is stuck on the remote island where all bad hybrids go. He put about five bullets into Sheriff Underlay's chest after learning that Underlay lied to him about what it meant to be a hybrid. Underlay convinced Father Scanlon that their transformation was ordained by God, and when Scanlon learned it was really aliens who were behind his rebirth, he was a tad upset and worried that all hybrids--including himself--were devil's spawn. Hence the shooting.
But when Father Scanlon hears of Russell's evolution theory, he has an altogether different reaction than Dave. His response is almost relief, or gratitude--perhaps even a sense of sudden grace. He explains to Russell and Dave that just because he's a priest doesn't mean evolution is out for him. In fact, evolutionary theory as a way to understand his transformation may bring his belief back to the idea that his rebirth indeed was part of God's plan after all.
Mary Magdalene, the woman who according to some gospel accounts was one of the first followers of Jesus to encounter a risen Christ, has long been a much-debated biblical figure--and now she is about to become the star of her very own musical production. Though little information about Mary Magdalene's background is actually found in the Bible, the musical, simply titled "Magdalene" takes creative license and focuses on Mary as a young girl in love whose life is forever altered when she becomes the victim of a violent sex crime. Set to tour nationally in 2007, the show was originally produced last year in Nashville at Grace Chapel for a limited engagement
Though contemporary Christian musicians Chris Easton and Michelle Pillar composed the music for the show, this musical aspires to go beyond being a Christian evangelical production celebrating the life of another Biblical character. The musical’s producers have partnered with the International Justice Mission to raise audience awareness of the issue of women being sold into sexual slavery--often referred to as sex trafficking.
While we certainly see more and more evidence of spiritual and social issues intersecting on the big screen, we still don't see it happen nearly as often--much less with excellence--when it comes to theater. (New Yorkers, feel free to begin filling the comment box with proof to the contrary.... now.) So I am hoping that this musical will be a successful model for other similar productions--not to preach, but to thoughfully and creatively reflect on social issues and why they are also the spiritual matters of the soul.
It seems that fatherhood has brought out a devotion in Brad Pitt that transcends just sharing the same faux-hawk haircut with his adopted son, Maddox Jolie-Pitt.
Hello! Magazine reports that the Hollywood hunk has gotten a Buddhist blessing tattooed on his lower back to honor Maddox. Written in Sanskrit, "the body art, a prayer of protection for the little boy, matches five black columns that [Maddox's mother, Angelina Jolie] has etched on her shoulders," the magazine reports.
Introduced to Buddhism while filming "Seven Years in Tibet," Pitt was described as "not particularly spiritual" in a 1997 Time magazine cover story about the film and "America's fascination with Buddhism." In that same piece, he said that he's "always paid attention to religion because I grew up in a religious background, but I’ve never felt a part of any of them."
Perhaps this box-office superstar is just like many parents who turn, or return, to spirituality and faith when the kids arrive.
To the Christian music fans in Kansas City, Denver, and Jefferson City, Indiana, who are still waiting to watch the Gospel Music Association’s Dove Awards show: your wait is not almost over. You have at least two more weeks before the syndicated broadcast of the ceremonies, held two weeks ago in Nashville, makes it onto your local schedule.
Now here’s the good news for the faithful. The reason the Pony Express could get you the Dove Awards faster than modern technology is that the Christian music industry is becoming less relevant every day. That is, when Carrie Underwood is cleaning up mainstream awards for her tearjerking “Jesus, Take the Wheel” and Alan Jackson’s gospel collection, “Precious Memories” climbs to the fourth spot on the all-genres Billboard 200 chart (today it's down to #10), it’s a sign of the end of Christian music and the beginning of music that happens to be written and played by Christians. Isn’t that what Christian musicians and their fans have wanted all along?
The huge success of the indie hit “Napoleon Dynamite”--the oddball story of a geeky Idaho teen and his friend Pedro--has brought actor Jon Heder, currently starring in the movie Benchwarmers, a slew of new comedic movie roles, along with a great deal of attention to his Mormon faith. I think it's safe to say that no Mormon has gotten this sort of attention in Hollywood since perky blonde Julie Stoffer from “The Real World: New Orleans.” Heder was the focus of a recent USA Today article as well as a feature in this month’s issue of Premiere, and in both interviews, he discusses how his Mormon beliefs affect what roles he picks as well as how he speaks.
According to the Premiere article, Heder won’t take any film roles that involve swearing, violence, or excessive sexuality. Heck, that's not exactly news, since even when he was totally punk'd by Ashton Kutcher and thought he was accidentally sent to a business meeting at a brothel, he didn't use a flippin' cuss word once. Still, the magazine interview makes a big deal out of Heder initially turning down his role in the upcoming flick “School for Scoundrels” because of the amount of profane language it had. (Supposedly, producer Harvey Weinstein had an affinty for the use of the "MF" word in the script.) Eventually, the script was re-written and his co-star, Billy Bob Thornton, supported Heder’s stance by commenting , "I think it's kind of refreshing to see somebody who has values in the movie business."
Despite such endorsements, Heder sounds like he is not completely comfortable with all of the attention on his religious beliefs and is a little concerned his squeaky-clean image will have Hollywood believing he is a long-lost Osmond brother. "It's tough now, because am I like an ambassador (for Mormonism) now? I was representing the church on my mission (Mormons are required to go into the mission field for two years), and now I'm representing the church again in some ways," Heder said in the USA Today profile.
You're flippin right, you are, Jon. Gosh. But you're also speaking up for some of the rest of your fans who don't think all comedy needs to be raunchy and R-rated. S-a-a-w-e-e-t.
Several news outlets reported this weekend that Episcopal churches are piping in U2 music as part of their services--even their liturgy--in an effort to preach the message of ending global poverty.
“As the electric guitar in the U2 anthem ‘Pride (In the Name of Love)’ faded from four speakers, the Rev. Robert Brooks welcomed worshippers to Grace Episcopal Church with an unusual suggestion,” said an AP story. “He warned them to protect their hearing. ‘If the sound's an issue, we do have earplugs available,’ he said.”
The story went on to highlight how U2’s tunes are woven into the liturgy and how something called “guerilla marketing” was utilized weeks in advance to ensure high attendance. Members and visitors are able to take communion while listening to popular U2 anthems.
For churches to include the music of secular musicians is not a new thing; the Vineyard movement, seeker churches, and the growing number Emergent Church communities have long been among those that feature house bands playing popular and classic songs. But piping in music from one of the biggest bands in the world is a signal of what may become a new trend, as pastors and other church leaders realize they can leverage the music of name-brand musicians and bands to communicate their message to the faithful army of church-goers, making it easier for ministers, pastors, rectors, and priests to get it across themselves.
And for bands--or their business managers or labels--this may signal a new realization that churches can be an effective venue for reaching new listeners.
It’s not like I want to invest my time in yet another reality show, but then last weekend I just happened to stumble across one of TLC’s relatively new series, “Little People, Big World”--and now I feel like I am the newest member of the Roloff family. Matt and Amy Roloff are dwarves, standing only about four feet tall, who have four children, some who are average height (the Roloffs do not use the word “normal”), and some who are small-statured like their parents. The series chronicles the family’s challenges as they run a business and tend a 35-acre farm. The show also gives an up-close look at the daily struggles of being vertically challenged in our fast-paced society.
There are many reasons to applaud this show, from the way it respects the Roloffs' unique world to the way it balances the portrayal of their challenges along with their truimphs. While most reality shows try to outsleaze each other with outlandish casting and prurient premises, the Roloffs make for engrossing T.V. because they do not feel sorry for themselves, and instead dream big dreams and take big risks because they want to teach their childen to do the same.
The series also succeeds because not all of the challenges the Roloffs face are specific to their height. While they do face obstacles doing simple tasks we take for granted--such as using a hotel bathroom or pulling a traffic ticket off the windshield of their SUV--they also struggle with problems we can all relate to: paying the bills, worrying about how they are raising their kids, and quibbling with each other about the petty stuff of daily life.
The Roloffs' faith is also represented on the show, but in a very low-key--dare I say it--normal way. The family prays together at dinner, the kids go to a private Christian school, and they make references to the fact that they believe God created them this way for a reason.
In a culture where “diversity” has become a much over-used buzz word, finally here is a series that actually does celebrate diversity, not in a staged-for-ratings way, but in an authentic way that truly creates a better understanding of a different lifestyle. I was so inspired by this family, after only watching one episode, that I found myself taking time to examine what I complain about but shouldn’t, what is holding me back in my life that shouldn’t, and how I could be just a little more like the Roloffs.
Meet Joe, Steve, Mike, and Dan, four men who star in a new five-part A&E series called "God or the Girl?" which begins airing on April 16th. Why the quandary in the title, God or the girl? Who's to say you can't have both? Well, these 20-somethings are engaged in discerning whether or not to enter into the Catholic priesthood, which, of course, requires a vow of celibacy--read: no girls.
Yet, aside from the girls question, what makes this show tick? After years of considering whether to enter seminary, all four of these young men agreed to make their final decision about the priesthood at the end of four weeks of filming, giving the show that "countdown feeling" we audiences seem to love.
A bit about each cast member:
Joe is 28, living in Ohio, and has been debating whether to become a priest for 10 years. His interest in the priesthood seems almost entirely based on his mother's desperate need for one of her six sons to become a priest, and viewers get to observe her disturbing onscreen presence in Joe's life; she says she thinks he's not fit for marriage and hounds him about making his decision so she can be relieved of her "stress" of not knowing. Joe's mom is not at all shy about how disappointed she'll be if he fails her in this endeavor. Perhaps a better title for Joe's dilemma would be: My Mom or the Girl?
Steveis 24, a rich, successful former frat-boy from UVA who gave up his career to become a poor missionary after he began to feel the call to the priesthood. His story relies heavily on the fact that he's given up his $500,000 condo, $80,000/year salary, and a four-year relationship with his girlfriend for a life of poverty, celibacy, and devotion to the church. Aside from a missionary trip to Guatemala, which Steve undertakes only after much pressure and convincing from a mentor, his story is the least interesting of the four. His overriding dilemma: God or Money?
Mikefrom Pennsylvania seems to be the only guy in this series, ironically, who actually has a girl about whom girl to debate. His story centers on his very happy and healthy relationship with his pretty girlfriend, Ally, whom he loves very much and whom his parents clearly hope their son will marry. This, in addition to Mike's aspirations to teach elementary school--which somehow are painted as in conflict with the priesthood--is central to his debate. I'm not sure why, as a priest, he also couldn't teach elementary school, since lots of priests are teachers, but somehow this has become a conflict for him. Aside from his real dilemma about his girlfriend, the most interesting and disturbing dimension of his story is the "mentor priest" in Mike's life, Father Paucelli, who is supposedly "helping" him discern his calling. But, as viewers will see, Father Paucelli really just seems desperate for Mike to break up with his girlfriend and become a priest, regardless of the clear affinity Mike shows for marriage in his future.
Dan, 20, and also from Ohio, is perhaps the most interesting of all four: He is both what his ex-girlfriend calls a "Chick Magnet" (think Heath Ledger back in his "Ten Things I Hate About You" days) and what only can be described as a Catholic zealot. Dan's story revolves around his decision to carry an 80-pound cross (yes, you read this correctly--just like Jesus) for 22 miles in the company of the guys he lives with in Catholic community. He undertakes the challenge at the urging--disturbingly--of his mentor, Father Jeff. Father Jeff's bright idea is that by literally suffering like Jesus by carrying this cross, Dan will be able to better make his decision about the priesthood. Dan doesn't seem to have much of a dilemma at all, and perhaps his story is best titled: God or God?
As I watched the stories of these four men unfold over the course of the series--A&E sent four of the five episodes to reviewers--I kept wondering: Was each episode intentionally cut to emphasize the more controversial dimensions of what these men experience or is the priestly discernment process itself simply a framework for extreme behavior and advice? For example, does Father Jeff contrive Dan's cross-carrying journey for the purposes of the show, or does he genuinely conceive it as a method for discernment? Is the intense, self-interested pressure placed on these aspiring priests by their mentors par for the course in the discernment process or peculiarly unique to the men on the show? Between Joe's mother, Mike's Father Paucelli, and Dan's Father Jeff, the "guidance" given by these advisors appear to be largely self-interested and even desperate at times--desperate to attract young men into the profession, even at the cost of what obviously seems to be their best interest. (Steve is the only one of the four whose mentor does not seem to have ulterior, personal motives in whether or not Steve chooses the priesthood.)
Whether or not the issue of girls is really at the crux of the discernment process, as the title of this series implies, or is just a clever device to spice up the show is a question that lingered in my mind as I watched the stories of Joe, Steve, Mike, and Dan unfold as they tried to make this major life decision. Yet, regardless, this show is sure to draw viewers, if only for the unique nature of the topic, and the strange desire audiences will surely feel as they wonder whether Dan will be able to manage his 22-two mile trek with an 80 pound, homemade, wooden cross--or whether Joe will finally tell his mother to go to hell.
Two key players at J-Dub Records, the label that was summarily dissed and dismissed by the Hasidic hipster Matisyahu last month, appeared on “Soundcheck,” on New York City’s public radio station, yesterday to discuss the label’s future. Aaron Bisman and Jacob Harris (left) sounded more world-weary than bitter about the split with Matisyahu (though they were sure to point out which of the reggae-reb’s hits from his gold album, “Live at Stubbs,” were written by Ben Hesse, Bisman’s co-founder). While they were proud to be giving young Jews a modern, modish way to build community, the pair made clear that they didn’t see the Jewish market as even the primary audience for their artists.
Noted, but it’s hard to imagine lightning like Matisyahu striking twice. The label’s latest signings--including SoCalled, a “dorky white Jewish kid” from Montreal who taught himself Yiddish to make klezmer hip-hop; Golem, who count among their influences The Pogues, They Might Be Giants, and gypsies from the Ukraine; and the multinational collective Balkan Beatbox--all lack the rush of weird wailings of the bearded, black-clad Matisyahu.
"What I Like About Jew" has already packed such NYC hotspots as The Knitting Factory and Fez, garnering praise from the likes of "The Village Voice," the "New Yorker," and "The New York Times" in the process.
Check them out! Give the interview a listen, visit their website, and see for yourself whether their wacky tunes might add a little levity to these upcoming religious holidays.
In possibly one of the most bizarre bids for publicity ever, MSNBC.com--via Access Hollywood via "People Magazine"--reports that Paris Hilton is on the short list to play Mother Teresa in a film set to begin production early next year. Indian director T. Rajeevnath was reportedly struck by the Hotel Heiress's facial resemblance to the Nobel Peace Prize-winning founder of the Missionaries of Charity and impressed by Hilton's refusal to do "Playboy."
"Although there are several actresses willing to play the role of Mother Teresa, the most widely respected and loved person," Rajeevnath told the Indo-Asian News Service, "the history of the actress who is finally chosen for the role would have to be analyzed thoroughly before she is chosen."
Meaning, one wonders, will Rajeevnath have to analyze each frame of Hilton's notorious sex tape, "One Night in Paris," very thoroughly?
Tonight, "Veronica Mars"--the show that features a crafty, high school girl P.I.--moves to its new UPN time slot, 9 p.m. What has me excited is the potential implied in the title of this episode: "I am God."
I fully admit to becoming a Veronica Mars "convert" during this second season. I'm in good company, too, since famous fans like Joss Whedon and Stephen King have voiced lavish praise for the show and its writers. Each week, as the latest episode comes to a close, I am eager to see the previews of next week's scenes--yet I'm always left with the feeling that something is missing from the series as a whole.
There's no doubt that "Veronica Mars" has become the new show of choice for "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" fans--which is no surprise, given the similarity of its star, Kristen Bell, to Buffy (Sarah Michelle Gellar) both in terms of looks and ability to fire off punchy, sarcastic dialogue throughout each fast-paced episode. But the characters of "Buffy" had a clear sense of a higher calling in this world and potentially the next--not just Buffy herself as the "chosen one" whose destiny was to protect the world from demons and vampires, but also the show's other vampire characters, who struggled with their longing to kill while at the same time desiring to do good. "Veronica Mars" and its characters, on the other hand, lack soul and an overall moral compass.
For "Buffy" fans, the show's popularity was not just due to the literal vampires-with-souls set-up; it was the fact that the show itself aspired to explore a higher meaning of life and purpose in the world.
Week after week, "Veronica Mars," without fail, delivers incredible, snappy dialogue from all its quirky characters, yet there still is an emptiness behind these words and conversations. Veronica is a person to whom friends and foes alike come for help, and who always offers that help, even if reluctantly so, in much the same way Buffy patroled for vamps night after night instead of going out dancing with her friends. Yet fans never see that same sense of a higher calling from Veronica, which Buffy had as core to her character. And while on "Buffy," we saw tremendous character development in Xander, Willow, Spike, and even popular girl Cordelia, on "Veronica Mars" we see a steady stream of rich boys who only seem out for themselves, an ethic of selfish laziness and apathy that never seems to change. Funny, sarcastic dialogue and a cool high school setting can only take "Veronica Mars" so far, and for this fan, that sense of emptiness I'm left with each week is starting to become a let down.
So I'm hanging my hopes on tonight's episode, "I am God," which has Veronica seeing visions. I am hoping that the show's writers might begin to add some much-needed deeper layers to Veronica's character and the show as a whole.
Richard Herskowitz is a brave man. The director of the Virginia Film Festival has chosen a theme for this year’s 70-film hoedown: “Revelations: Finding God at the Movies.” In a news brief released by the University of Virginia, which runs the fest, Herskowitz says he’s looking for films that “explore the growing role of religion in the public sphere,” including “reverent and irreverent” flicks. (No doubt, he’ll also put together a powerful roster for forums as well: UVA has one of the most innovative and well-staffed religion departments in the country, and past festivals have featured luminaries like director Paul Schrader and politically controversial actress Vanessa Redgrave.)
That's not what makes danger Herskowitz’s middle name, however: it's his plan to air his selection process and invite discussion on a blog called “Revelations of a Programmer.” Does he realize how many religion-and film, uh, enthusiasts are out there, ready to stampede on a blog? Godspeed, Richard.
Normally, when I go to a rock concert, most of the people in the audience have their hands in the air, making the "sign of the devil" with their pinky and pointer fingers extended, rocking out to the music. They're not holding their hands out in prayer. Usually when I see women in the audience reach toward the stage, she's trying to grab the lead singer and rip his clothes off, not reaching toward heaven as a sign of worship. And, most times, when I see people embracing in the audience, it's because they're on drugs or leaning on someone because they're drunk, not because they're loving on their neighbor as Jesus would want it.
But last night I saw all that and more, as I had my first experience at a Christian rock concert--Third Day and the David Crowder Band live at the Nokia Theater in Times Square, New York. I knew it would be much different than any show I'd experienced before, but I don't think I was prepared for exactly how different it would be.
Because New York isn't exactly known for its Christian rock scene, I expected plenty of empty seats. I was wrong: The place was packed and, unlike the more mainstream shows I've been to, people weren't pushing, shoving, and spilling beer all over the place. People were actually polite. I figured they must all be from rural parts of Jersey or something, and not real New Yorkers; they couldn't be! (Later in the night, a show of hands proved me wrong—most people seemed to live in the New York City area).
The David Crowder band, who walked away earlier this month with three Doves at the Gospel Music Awards--including best Rock/Contemporary album for "Collision," best Rock/ Contemporary Recorded Song for "Here is Our King," and for their work on the best Special Event Album, "Music Inspired by the Chronicles of Narnia"--opened the show. The wild-haired, Jesus-bearded Crowder had a wonderful rapport with the audience and put on a great performance. The crowd, especially the younger people, sang loudly and jumped around like it was a mosh pit at a House of Pain concert—except they all linked arms like old friends and no one seemed to get hurt or stepped on.
Before launching into his "rock opera," "You Are My Joy," Crowder said we were going to "have a little church here in the middle of the Nokia Theater." Up until that point, the concert didn't seem so religious--like in many concerts, much of the lyrics were drowned out by overpowering percussion and guitars--but now we were going full throttle into worship.
Right after Crowder's set, Tai Anderson, bass player for Third Day, came on stage to talk to the crowd about the documentary, "Invisible Children," which tells the story of children in Uganda who are kidnapped and forced to fight for rebel armies. "Standing up for justice is our role in the body of Christ," he said, encouraging the audience to get involved with the cause.
A short while later, Third Day approached the stage to wild applause. Playing a variety of hits, such as "Cry Out to Jesus"--for which they won a Dove award for best Pop Contemporary Song of the Year--"Rock Star," and oldies like "Consuming Fire," the audience reveled in the mix of worship, rock, and country. One of the best moments of the night was when Third Day's lead singer, Mac Powell, invited the David Crowder Band back on stage to sing a cover of Hank Williams Sr.'s, " I Saw the Light."
At the end of the night, right before he led the audience in a prayer, Mac Powell, lead singer of the group, made an interesting point when he said, "Down south, being a Christian is a cultural thing. But here in New York City, if you're a Christian it's
for real; it's not a cultural thing." I wasn't sure if he said that because of the idea that New York City is a cesspool of sin, or because it's a place where people aren't very open with their faith. Either way, it made me think.
Throughout the show, I felt more uplifted than I do that one time a year I go to church. There was a genuine goodness in the air, which showed itself to me in a way that my traditional Catholic church does not. Although I've always been a music person and a God and Jesus person, I've never been much of a church person. But if I could find a place where I could, as Third Day lead singer Mac Powell says, "live my faith through music," I think I'd have a better shot of going to church more regularly.
But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop listening to Metallica.
I am sure some ABC exec thought it was a good idea to have Naveen Andrews, one of the stars of ABC’s hit show “Lost,” do the talk-show circuit to promote tonight’s premiere of the ABC miniseries “The Ten Commandments,” in which Andrews plays Menerith, brother to Moses. But Andrews's comments on “Good Morning America” and “The View” will do little to persuade the religiously inclined to make the story of Moses Must See TV as part of observing this holy week.
As Andrews chatted it up with Barbara Walters and the rest of the ladies on “The View,” he said that he liked this cinematic version of the biblical story because it portrayed Moses as a “nut job” and as someone who in today’s society would probably be nothing more than “a traffic guard or something.” Later on in the interview, when Star Jones pointed out to Andrews that the Bible refers to God’s law as “The Ten Commandments,” not the “Ten Suggestions,” Andrews simply shrugged and said that “all religious dogma is suspect and should be questioned.”
While Andrews is certainly entitled to his opinions, spiritual skepticism and all, he might want to remember that promoting a project means showing just a little bit of respect for the beliefs of the audience for whom the project is primarily intended.
The Masters golf tournament may not command the television ratings of the Super Bowl and March Madness, but it still qualifies as one of the cultural sports holidays that many Americans gather around and observe religiously. During Sunday’s final round, I saw all nine fruits of the spirit (from Galatians 5:22-23).
Love. Every player who walked up the fairway to the 18th green—including Spain’s Jose Maria Olazabel, America’s Ryder Cup nemesis, received warm and gracious standing ovations regardless of where they stood in the standings. Such unconditional love is not typical in our performance-driven culture.
Peace. Rocco Mediate, a smiling guy who was within a nose of the lead, hit three (yes three!) balls in the water at the 12th hole and scored a 10 on a par 3. His response was a deep breath, a smile and an on to the next hole—an inner strength that we could all imitate when we face our failures this week. That hole probably cost Rocco about a quarter of a million dollars.
Patience. Anybody that plays golf has it. So do fans who sit for five hours in one spot; at my church, people are ready to go to lunch after an hour.
Kindness. 46-year-old Fred Couples missed several short putts, but was usually greeted by loud ovations at the subsequent holes.
Goodness. Phil Mickelson saved his fellow competitor a penalty stroke by reminding him to replace his mark before putting, after their balls were on the same line. In other sports, most players try to get away with what they can while hoping the ref catches the other guy.
Faithfulness. Bucking a commercial trend at big events, the network and its advertisers ran only four minutes of commercials per hour.
Gentleness. Golf is a rare sport where no one points a finger in his opponents face or celebrates another’s demise or dances when a competitor fails. Fans work not to be a distraction, and etiquette is held in high esteem.
Self-Control. Tiger Woods—playing while his father lay ill in Southern California—was poised for a comeback win to become the second-greatest Masters champion of all-time, but he missed short shots all day. However, he never lost his composure (okay, maybe one exclamation) and was still around to make a valiant run in the closing holes.
Joy. When the excellent shots occurred—no matter who made them—there was raucous applause that echoed throughout the woods and across the course, much louder than the outpouring of praise at most churches this day.
Aviad Cohen--you may know him as 50 Shekel, though then again, you probably don't know of him at all--has found a new way to get the word out about his latest passions. He's started a blog called Scripture & Sushi, in which he rhapsodizes about--you guessed it--the Bible and raw fish.
Cohen had a brief moment of fame, at least in the Jewish world, when, performing under the name 50 Shekel, he produced Jewish hip-hop music that both parodied Jewish culture and expressed pride in his heritage. His second, even briefer, moment in the spotlight was last year, when he announced he'd become a Messianic Jew (or, as we sticklers for accuracy like to call it, a Christian), who continues identifying with Jews and Judaism, with the added belief in Jesus as the messiah. You can guess which Scripture he's writing about in his blog; let's just say it includes the books we don't read in shul.
In the spirit of spreading his new messianic zeal, Cohen sparked a bit of a brouhaha in the Jewish blogosphere last month with comments about the latest Jewish musician to grab the pop-culture spotlight, Matisyahu, the Hasidic reggae artist. First, some background: Matisyahu's brand of Hasidic Judaism is called Chabad (also known as Lubavitcher), and some very-vocal members of this group believe that the group's now-deceased leader will return from the dead as the mashiach, or messiah.
If that last part sounds a bit--or more than a bit--Christian, you're not alone; many Jews have said the same thing. The artist formerly known as 50 Shekel has grabbed onto that bit of belief to argue, in an interview with The Canonist blog, that he, the Messianic Jew, and Matisyahu, the Chabad Jew, are not all that different (though Matisyahu has never, as far as I know, stated publicly his personal thoughts on the messianism issue). “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with saying, ‘Long live the King Messiah,’ it’s just the Chabad messiah or the Lubavitch messiah that’s the problem,” Cohen said. “I just hope he [Matisyahu] opens his eyes and ears to truth... I didn’t find it in rabbinic Judaism, I found it in the scriptures.” And, of course, in Jesus.
Cohen added that, since Matisyahu performed together with the Christian band P.O.D., the Hasidic reggae star has been adequately witnessed to--and now, presumably, just needs to think it through and come to the decision that seems obvious to Cohen. If not, maybe Cohen can take Matisyahu out for some kosher sushi and discuss the matter.
Steven Colbert has spent as much time skewering Easter kitsch as he has politics lately on his talk show "The Colbert Report"--and I love him for it. Hypocritical as it may seem, Santa Clauses and elves don’t seem to bother my Midwest evangelical sensibilities much at Christmastime, while duckies, bunnies, and chocolate-covered eggs really get on my last nerve at Easter. I have never found that either pretty bonnets or hunting for eggs has helped me reflect with fresh insight on the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. So I have been laughing at Colbert’s commentary even more than usual, because his ongoing series “Easter Under Attack” has given a hilarious voice to all of my frustration with the crass commercialization of a holy holiday.
In past episodes, Colbert has focused on everything from what dying eggs might have to do with Jesus dying on cross to a business in St. Paul that required one of their secretaries to remove Easter decorations from her desk. In last night’s episode, Walgreens was the target of Colbert’s satirical scrutiny because of a special they were running on their latest stuffed toy--"praying bears." According to Colbert, unlike bunnies, "bears have nothing to do with our Lord Jesus Christ. Bears don’t pray because they are godless killing machines. Walgreens is using Easter to make bears seem adorable and devout so we lower our defenses so when we see bears in the woods we'll kneel dow to pray with them..."
Yes, with absurd insights like that, my faith in the possibility that the meaning of Easter won't be lost after all has definitely been renewed.
At least one "Da Vinci Code" mystery has been solved... as far as the High Court in London is concerned. According to Reuters, the British court decided that "while Brown may have copied bits of the 1982 book 'The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail,' that [it] did not amount to a breach of copyright."
Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh, well-known conspiracy theorists and authors of "Holy Blood, Holy Grail" (as the book was titled here in the States), had claimed that Brown stole their idea of a massive church cover-up of the true nature of the bloodline of Christ for his megaselling novel. The suit threatened--or seemed to threaten--to delay the May release of the "Da Vinci Code" movie starring Tom Hanks. It doesn't take a conspiracy theorist, however, to determine that the timing of the lawsuit was just a little too perfect, seeing as how well the trial coincided with the release of Baignent's new book "The Jesus Papers," which claims that Christ didn't die on the cross--not to mention the buzz over the upcoming "Da Vinci Code" movie release.
(Watch Beliefnet's video interview with Baigent here.)
The Beatles are all now either dead, knighted or Ringo, but the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, the group’s onetime spiritual guru and the inventor of Transcendental Meditation, is still making news. The Maharishi’s followers recently broke ground on a $14 million World Peace Capital, a campus of a dozen buildings now rising on 480 acres in extremely rural Smith County, Kansas. Your next question, kids, (after “Who’s The Beatles?”) is “Why Kansas?” Smith County, it turns out, is the geographic center of the United States, the perfect place to anchor a chain of Transcendental Meditation centers spreading across the country’s midsection. To local officials, such reasoning is beside the point. As Smith Center Mayor Randy Archer points out, “With a population of 1,800 and the oldest population in Kansas, we don’t have much going for us.”
The choice of Kansas does not seem akilter, either, to anyone who has followed the TM movement over the decades. True, TM began as a hot jetsetter spirituality—think Kabbalah, with OM—and some Hollywood types, like director David Lynch, still swear by it. But Maharishi’s chief stateside organization, U.S. Peace Government, has long been based in Iowa, and Americans in the heartland have taken to it as a nondenominational way to find peace, reduce stress—and prevent crime: Last week, a St. Louis, Mo., Judge and TM practitioner ordered a woman convicted of fraud to attend 180 hours of community service and learn TM.
Emboldened, perhaps, by his recent roll, the Maharishi may be trying to settle an old score with the Fab Four. Last month former, disciple Deepak Chopra floated a story that the band’s break with their guru came not because the Maharishi was hitting on women in their entourage at his Indian ashram, but because the yogi himself objected to said entourage’s intake of pot and LSD at the ashram.
All of the wires, websites, and blogs that are talking about Paul Newman’s appearance on last night’s "Tonight Show" are missing what I thought was the most powerful part of the evening.
Paul Newman ate dog food, discussed his charitable work around the world, and engaged in the Second Annual Race With Jay in a concocted two-lap go-cart trip around an indoor track in the studio. The Newman stunts and Jay’s suck-up-easy questions were bordering on the kind of semi-pathetic things that other stars need to make an interview interesting while not looking so old. But when the little race started, the real Paul Newman emerged.
There were live cameras at all four turns on the course, which meant eight close-up views of the drivers, the cars and, most importantly, Mr. Newman’s eyes. Yes, those eyes—the window into the soul that used to jump through the screen and speak into our lives and the ones that presently notice injustice around the world and bring new life to the impoverished and under-resourced kids there. He looked 30 years younger during that race: competitive, sharp, focused, and intense. He managed to bring a poise and a pride to the fabricated event the way he brought distinction and even decorum to so many seemly characters through the years. This was the man who made a hustler redeemable, a bandit likeable, a con man credible, a mob family member sympathetic, and an ambulance-chaser correctable.
One of the true signs of spiritual depth is an honest look from—or into—the eyes of a human being. In the midst of the perception management and brand development that is our media culture, authenticity and candor are qualities that are rarely visible. That’s why I was surprised and inspired during last night’s "Tonight Show," and remembered to reflect on what my own eyes reveal about the spiritual trajectory of my life, and my impact in the world around me.
When you hear the name Jerry Jenkins, the first thing you think of probably is not "emotional love story." But the king (or co-king, with Tim LaHaye) of Christian apocalyptic storytelling is much more than just "The Left Behind" series. In fact, he's authored a whopping 160 books, covering any number of topics, fictional and nonfictional. For the first time, one of his solo novels, "Though None Go With Me," has been made into a film--starring former Charlie's Angel Cheryl Ladd, no less--which will debut on the Hallmark Channel on Sat (9 p.m./8 Central time).
I spoke with Jenkins about the project on what happened to be the day after he saw the finished product for the first time. He proclaimed himself pleased--no surprise there--though he did say, "It's not quote-unquote a 'Christian movie,' maybe not the movie I would have made from the book... As an evangelical author, I probably would have been more overt about the themes." Lest you think from that quote that "Though None Go With Me" has been stripped of its spirituality, consider its plot: A young woman decides, in Jenkins's words, to "investigate the true cost of a lifetime commitment to Christ," and pledges to follow Jesus' teachings, no matter what the cost. She suffers great loses--becoming a sort of "female Job," Jenkins says--but her faith remains strong, despite the trials she's put through.
Jenkins is well aware that sweet love stories like "Though None Go With Me" are not what's made his reputation. "A lot of people have asked me, 'Have you written anything else?'" he says, adding that most of his work is more like "Though None Go With Me" than "Left Behind." "Ironically, the idea of prophetic apocalyptic fiction is not what gets me up in the morning," he says. "I've written 160 books and all the rest of them put together haven't sold what 'Left Behind' has sold."
Jenkins can look forward to retiring the "Left Behind" franchise. A final prequel is coming out in June, and a final sequel next year, the final title in the series. The production company he started with his son in 2001, Jenkins Entertainment, is currently producing a film of a short story by Jenkins, "Midnight Clear," but don't expect Jenkins to go all Hollywood on us. "As a novelist, I find the movie-making business almost way too collegial for me," he says. "You need to have everybody else involved. A novelist, you go off in what I call a cave and write until you're finished."
The long-lost "Gospel of Judas" published by the National Geographic Society today has one thing going for it: it's one of the shortest gospels on record. It's a mere 25 (very small) pages long, in contrast to the canonical Gospel of Mark, which occupies 27 densely packed, double-column pages in the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible.
The Gospel of Judas is a gnostic document (the version we have is in Coptic, but the original was probably written in Greek during the mid-second century). Like most gnostic documents, it's all talk, no action, and to modern minds a wee bit dull. In this text, Jesus discovers that out of his 12 disciples, Judas is the only one who is from "another realm." That is, Judas, like Jesus, wasn't created by the God of the Old Testament—an evil being in gnostic theology—but by a higher, true God called the "Great One." After much arcane dialogue, Jesus secretly arranges for Judas to betray him, telling Judas that he will actually be doing a service because the man Jesus will be killed off, releasing his spirit. End of gospel. Jesus laughs quite a bit in this gospel, mostly at how stupid the other disciples—and most of humankind—are. Elsewhere, Jesus sounds like a surprisingly contemporary New Age guru, as when he tells Judas, "The star that leads the way is your star."
Obviously, the Gospel of Judas is an important and valuable record of the thinking of the gnostics, a heretical Christian sect that flourished during the second century, then gradually died away. As their name "gnostic" (from the Greek word for "knowledge") indicates, the gnostics believed that people were saved, not by their good deeds or by Christ's redemption, but by self-knowledge, which was available only to an elite few. The editors of "The Gospel of Judas" explain that gnosticism was one of many "competing" versions of early Christianity wiped out when the orthodox obtained political power. I must say that on aesthetic grounds alone (the canonical Gospels at least tell a rousing story), I'm glad the orthodox won.
The editors of "The Gospel of Judas" also argue that, by rehabilitating Judas into a hero instead of a renegade, the gnostics struck a blow against the anti-Semitism of the early church (Judas' name in Hebrew is "Judah," the root word of our word "Jew"). But isn't dissing the God of the Old Testament just as anti-Semitic?
The only thing better than watching Jon Stewart’s satirical spin on the world of politics on the “The Daily Show” is watching the sharp-tongued Stewart being outwitted by one of his guests. Such was the case last night when Stewart invited Senator John McCain on the show to explain why he accepted fundamentalist activist Jerry Falwell’s invitation to give the commencement address at the college Falwell founded, Liberty University.
Stewart started the segment by chastising McCain’s decision as a move to pander to the religious right--to which McCain replied, "I’m going to invite you down (to the ceremony) because I want you sitting next to Reverend Falwell when I give it." Stewart shot back with his own barb by asking, “Is that so if the rapture happens during the speech someone could be there to clean up all the clothes?” Round one to Stewart.
But as Stewart continued to rephrase the same question over and over again (“Don’t you think it’s condoning Falwell’s crazymaking by going down there?” "You don’t think this helps reassert Falwell as a leader?” “Are you freaking out?”), McCain calmly explained that he will deliver the same message at Liberty University that he gives at other universities--choose a life of public service, fight for a cause greater than yourself, live with character. When Stewart continued to badger McCain, McCain went on to explain that he has spoken at Ivy League universities even though he disagrees with their policy of not letting the military recruit on campus so there is no hypocrisy in speaking at Liberty University even if he doesn’t agree with Falwell on everything. Round two: McCain.
Stewart tried one more time to get McCain to take a shot at Falwell by asking if meeting Falwell brought about nerves or “vomit in the back of your throat.” McCain simply answered, “No, but I’ll give him your love.” Clearly, McCain is capable of teaching both Stewart and Falwell a thing or two about engaging in respectful public discourse about politics--while still getting the last laugh.
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Battles in Donald Trump’s boardroom have taken a decidedly spiritual spin on this season’s “The Apprentice,” with an ongoing storyline that has highlighted one contestant’s refusal to compromise his religious faith just to get ahead in the show’s competition. (Well, it actually was two contestants, but one's already been eliminated.) On last night’s episode, Lee, a business analyst and Orthodox Jew, was faced once again with the possibility of being fired because he opted out of working on a task with his team, Gold Rush, to observe a Jewish holy day, Yom Kippur.
Lee, along with former team member Dan, had declined to work on a different task in a previous episode because it took place on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year--much to the displeasure of teammate Lenny, who is also Jewish but does not refrain from working on the Jewish holidays.
On the surface, it seems as if the other members of Gold Rush respect, or at least accept, Lee’s decision to practice his faith at the expense of his and the team’s welfare in the game, but perhaps not everyone is as understanding as they seem. When Donald Trump questioned Lee about who should be fired for his team's failure in last night's episode, Lee refrained from naming anyone, since he had not participated in the task. On the other hand, Bryce--the project manager last night--turned on Lee. Faced with the decision of who to bring along with him to the boardroom, where Donald Trump would rake them over the proverbial coals and choose one to be fired, Bryce seized the opportunity to take Lee, despite--or perhaps because of--Lee's absence from the task. Once inside the boardroom, Trump scrutinized Bryce’s motives for bringing Lee along--one reason that led to Bryce to be the one fired.
Don't get me wrong; when all the religious drama was finally over, I still doubted Trump’s sincerity in the boardroom when he told Lee, “Religion is the most important thing. I dig that.” And I predict that the rest of his teammates, especially Lenny, will find a way to use Lee’s non-participation against him in a future episode. Still, Lee’s quiet and dignified resolve to practice his religion while under pressure has given this season some unexpected heart--as well as a moral conscience. He's become so popular that a blog called the “Orthodox Apprentice” is tracking his every move. Maybe that's because Lee doesn’t kvetch, kvell, kibbitz, or do anything else to feed the Jewish stereotypes we often see on television. He just always seems to do the right thing.
There was something redeeming—or at least potentially redeeming—about the first “Basic Instinct” in 1992. One or two tantalizing scenes could not have been enough to drive all of the $350 million it made, nor would they have sustained celebrity status for an actress who hasn’t done much since. It at least attempted (or pretended?) to offer a story with vulnerability and questions at the boundary of what passes for judgment and, well, instinct.
The second one—I don’t know whether to call it a bad sequel or a bad remake—is just a pure waste of time.
I usually like trying to find something positive about any form of art or expression and certainly about any person. I don’t have anything good to say about this one, and actually hope it hasn’t killed Sharon Stone’s career.
This film stinks. Maybe it’s because Stone’s Catherine Tramell was more interesting as an unknown than as a re-tread. Maybe it’s because there was something truly vulnerable about Michael Douglas’s performance that’s clearly missing here. Maybe it’s because female characters are intelligent, smart and heroic in just about every crime show on television, and the battle of the sexes is, uh, not at the fever pitch it may have been in 1992. Maybe it’s because the setting is Europe and not the United States.
I’m usually one of the first guys to enjoy telling lawyer jokes, but this joke—the one about the attorneys who couldn’t solve a contract dispute so the studio had to make a movie nobody wanted—isn’t even funny.
Sometimes I find New York Post gossip columnist Cindy Adams's Larry King-like meanderings a bit too filled with non-sequiturs. For example, a snippet from today's column: "B'way's new show 'Well' has the line: 'In the Midwest, Judaism is an accessory you wear over your Christianity.' What it implies, who knows, but it sounds clever, no?... Lady on the street to a lady going by: 'You look like Phyllis Newman.' Said Phyllis Newman: 'Impossible. I couldn't be that old.'"
But, other times the creator of Gossip perfume is spot on. Last night on CNN's Showbiz Tonight, Adams and host A.J. Hammer were discussing "it-girl" Lindsay Lohan's much-publicized troubles. Adams, who was plugging her latest book "Living a Dog's Life," defended Lohan in a March 31 column, saying that she was a very sweet girl indeed; even if she has, as Cindy told A.J., brought a lot of the paparazzi-plague upon herself.
"She's now wearing a red rag around her wrist, you know... Kabbalah," Adams spilled to Hammer. "And I said, 'What are you doing that for?'" In response, Adams continued, Lindsay told her: "I don't know, but I have to find something. I'm always nervous, I'm always scared, I'm always frightened. You need to find some peace somewhere."
Leave it to Adams, with her poshly perfect articulation, incredulous eyebrow lift, and "Isn't-that-so-L.A?" hand flip to christen the trendy Kabbalah red string bracelet a "red rag."
Last night's "Sopranos" episode, "The Fleshy Part of the Thigh" was filled with religiously themed moments, including the mysterious appearance of a quotation from Native American spirituality posted at Tony's hospital bedside.
Paulie also finds out that his mother is actually a nun whom he's always thought was his "aunt." When she was young, the nun urgently confesses to Paulie on her deathbed, there was "this sailor," along came Paulie, and no one wanted a scandal, which is why she is telling him this now, so late in her life, when it no longer matters--at least to her. Paulie handles this news with all the grace we've come to expect of his character: He becomes incensed and violent.
But my favorite religious moment from last night's episode was when an old evangelical buddy of Janice (Tony's sister) comes to the hospital to protest on behalf of a doctor who was fired for refusing to prescribe birth control pills. He visits Tony, bringing along another evangelical friend. They show up to witness for Christ by Tony's bedside, trying to convince Tony to accept Jesus as his personal savior. Tony's response, of course, is that he's Catholic, so he's already good, but they explain that God doesn't want anybody in the way of Tony's relationship to Christ--namely priests--so as a Catholic he's not in that great a shape with God (insert Tony's eyes rolling here).
The best part of all, though, is when Tony finds out why these two are at the hospital in the first place. They show him a sign that says, "Womb is God" (what does that mean anyway?). Tony's immediate response--much to Carmela's embarrassment--is whether they're going to be saying next that "God doesn't like Viagra." Following Tony's accidental shooting, he's a little concerned about having potential "issues" in the bedroom. Well, no, the evangelists answer, Tony has nothing to worry about, because God loves anything that promotes procreation, which includes Viagra!
How high of an endorsement can a product get? Maybe soon we will start seeing commercials that say: "Take Viagra! It's what God wants you to do."
It's common these days to refer to Super Bowl Sunday as a civic holiday, but to me there's no more significant sports-oriented festival than baseball's Opening Day--just as there is no more spiritual sport than baseball, with its focus on brains and passion over brute strength, its deliberate, orderly pace, its absolute dependence on teamwork, its reverence for history, its unique traditions, foods, songs, and literature, and its combination of precision, focus, and statistics with improvisation, the unknown, luck, and sheer wonder.
Opening Day, more so in my mind even than the World Series, symbolizes the best about baseball, and the best of the human condition. The slate is clean, and hope reigns as the overriding emotion. Spring may not have arrived in every major-league city, but it surely is on the way. Last year's last-place team can believe, deep in its heart and soul, that this October will see the underdog battle for post-season glory. The rookie can anticipate the glory of his first major-league year, the veteran can bask in the renewal of tradition and routine--the profound and the mundane. And the fan can soak it all in, enjoy, and dream about the season ahead, with a beer in one hand and a scorecard in the other.
The World Series is still more than six grueling months away, but today (well, last night fo White Sox and Indians fans) the quest to play in that glorious best-of-seven series begins. By then, the weather will be getting colder, and darkness will be setting in earlier. The players will be battered, bruised, and ready to return to their families. Some fans will have fallen away, disappointed at their team's losing season. Others will be glued to their TV sets, watching pitch after pitch with baited breath.
Today, though, there are no such divisions, no such anxiety. It's Opening Day. Another season is beginning, and with it our hope that redemption is just around the corner. Play ball!
Mason Miracle, March Miracle, and Miracle Run are just a couple of the turns of phrase invoking miracles or divine-intervention that have been used to somehow describe the fact that, against all odds (literally), the George Mason Patriots men's basketball team made it to the NCAA Final Four, upsetting the tournament's top seeds one after the other, until they sadly lost to Florida, 73-58, after a hard fought first half on Saturday night. The Cinderella Team has become standard fair each year during March Madness, but this year, as The New York Times sports reporter Pete Thamel wrote yesterday, "By the time George Mason took the court for its Final Four game with Florida on Saturday night, the Patriots had already redefined the role of Cinderella in the N.C.A.A. tournament." And though the George Mason came out of the locker room to the tune of the their pep band playing "All I Need Is a Miracle" by Mike and the Mechanics, alas, Thamel reports that their "plea for one more divine performance was left unanswered."
What is it about championship games, particularly the ones that come in March, that lead us to take up such religious language in our descriptions of wins and defeats and the "why" behind the Cinderella Team's success? And why do we adore the Cinderella Team so much in the first place? Is it the fact that we somehow believe that, via a group of men or women dribbling a ball down a court, there really is a miracle unfolding before our eyes? That God is somehow playing a role in the spectacle?
As a lifelong college basketball fan, one whose team is always a Cinderella-bid at the N.C.A.A.'s (University of Rhode Island--I know, who's that?) when they somehow manage to squeak out a good enough season or win the Atlantic 10 title to get a ticket to the ball, I am an unabashed follower of the underdog, that team that is just not supposed to be there but somehow is, and whose every win is regarded as coming on a wing and a prayer and with a lot of divine intervention. I have prayed, screamed, and begged my way through heart-stoppingly close games that are won and lost by those Hail Mary shots from across the court (notice our name for those). And I've been known to perform all sorts of superstitious rituals, because--as any sports fan knows--every little move you make can effect the outcome of a game and potentially upset the gods and goddesses of game-watching. Though George Mason is not "my team," I always follow Cinderella each year, because I want the miracle as much as the next fan.
Of course, lurking beneath all the wonder is the hard fact that sometimes, despite our faith, prayers, and believing, more often that not, these March Miracles are fleeting. Though George Mason seemed to sustain the stunning run longer than most Cinderellas have in the past, it seems that finally, on Saturday night, God sadly got distracted and, at least for this year, the Mason Miracle came to an end. And in the wake of the sadness of fans who've been closely following this unusual Cinderella tale this season, we are all now left with a totally disappointing final game this Monday night, between two superpowers of basketball, Florida and UCLA, a game I plan to forego for "24" now that Mason is no longer a contender.
Donna Freitas has a Ph.D. in spirituality and is the author of "Becoming A Goddess Of Inner Poise: Spirituality for The Bridget Jones in All of Us."
Douglas Howe is an ordained minister, executive coach, author, and retreat leader.
Paul O'Donnell is the former Culture editor at Beliefnet.
Kris Rasmussen, the author of "WonkaMania," has been a contributing editor to the Christian music magazine CCM and a feature writer for Relevant magazine.
Plus, a number of Beliefnet editors will also be posting to Idol Chatter as the mood strikes.
I saw "United 93," so you don't have to.
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Tom Cruise fans—those who read the gossip mags these days with paper bags over their heads—must wonder, Why does Tom do it? Why pounce on Oprah’s sofa? Why pooh-pooh post-partum depression? Why placenta? Why does he insist on announcing that the birth of his child was “very spiritual”?
One of the reasons Fox’s 
Paul Sharrat had no luck contacting the late Princess Diana three years ago in a televised séance—well, no luck in the sense that Di refused to speak for the cameras. Sharrat did make some $7 million from viewers willing to pony up a $14.95 pay-per-view fee. That kind of luck encouraged 
It seems that fatherhood has brought out a devotion in Brad Pitt that transcends just sharing the same faux-hawk haircut with his adopted son, Maddox Jolie-Pitt.
It’s not like I want to invest my time in yet another reality show, but then last weekend I just happened to stumble across one of TLC’s relatively new series, 
Two key players at 
Simple life, indeed.
Tonight, "
I am sure some ABC exec thought it was a good idea to have 
Battles in 
Last night's "
