Ever since the trailer for the new Les Misérables movie made the rounds online, I’ve been highly anticipating this film. Last weekend, Corina and I went to see it. We were not disappointed, but we were surprised in ways different than expected.

Here are some initial thoughts.

(Caution: Spoilers ahead!)

From Book to Broadway to the Box Office

How does one judge the faithfulness of a screen adaptation of Les Misérables?

Do we judge it based on its fidelity to the book? To the musical? To the spirit of both?

If you’ve read the book, you can imagine the difficulty of translating such a sprawling piece of literature to the big screen. Directors and screenwriters have tried and, in my estimation, failed. (Even Liam Neeson.) It’s simply too hard to pack the emotional punch of Hugo’s masterpiece into a two-hour film.

Unless… you’ve got music on your side. This is where the musical excels. By telling the story musically, the composers capture the spirit of Hugo’s novel without slavishly following every detail.

I am a fan of the book. I am a fan of the musical. Now, finally, I am a fan of the movie. Hooper deserves accolades for pulling it off.

Anne Hathaway as Fantine

Anne Hathaway’s performance as Fantine has gotten a lot of buzz, deservedly so. Her gut-wrenching version of “I Dreamed a Dream” rescues the song from the sentimentality of Susan Boyle and reminds viewers of the despairing lyrics that work against the soaring melody. Also powerful is the deathbed scene where Fantine longs for her daughter.

Because Hathaway has received so much buzz, I can’t say I was surprised by the emotional depth of her performance. She lived up to the hype, but didn’t exceed expectations (perhaps because expectations were so high). Likewise, Hugh Jackman did a fantastic job capturing the progression of Valjean from sinner to saint.

Marius’ Empty Chairs

What surprised me most was Eddie Redmayne’s performance as Marius. His rendition of “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” was so authentic that, for a moment, I felt as if I were in the room with him, feeling the same wave of anger and grief he was experiencing. It was a stunning performance. Corina and I looked at each other after it was over and said, “Unbelievable.”

The Killing of Gavroche

After the tragedy in Connecticut, it was especially difficult to watch the little boy Gavroche get killed at the barricade. The film didn’t belabor the tragedy by showing blood; even so, the sight of a young child being shot and killed was disturbing. (There were audible gasps in the audience when this took place on screen.)

Christian Imagery

I was also surprised by the pervasiveness of Christian imagery in the film. The clearest use of the cross was saved for Valjean’s moment of truth, as he faces the inner conflict of choosing to reveal himself in order to save the life of another man. While Valjean sings these words, he is looking at a crucifix:

Can I condemn this man to slavery
Pretend I do not feel his agony
This innocent who bears my face
Who goes to judgment in my place

Christian Resonance

While Les Misérables was playing, we could hear people weeping. When it was finished, the movie-goers burst into applause.

The “experience” of this movie got me thinking. How many people are moved by Les Misérables without really knowing why?

Is it the portrait of law and grace? Valjean – a man who offers grace without conditions, set against the backdrop of Javert, who in his pride would rather die than be humbled before a thief.

Is it the light of grace shining in darkness? We see the ugliness of sin: theft, hypocrisy, and immorality. The darkness of evil makes the light of love shine all the brighter.

Is it the hope of heaven? As Valjean dies, Fantine sings about how he will soon enter his reward – seeing God. The end of the movie is shot through with eschatology:

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.
They will live again in the freedom in the garden of the Lord…
Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?

I wonder how many people long for the better world behind the barricade, but don’t know how to get there. Moved to tears by grace-on-display in the character of a man who lays down his life for others,  they miss the connections between this literary classic and the greatest Story ever told.

The music written for the grand narrative of Scripture can’t be contained in a 2 1/2 hour film. It’s sung day after day, week after week, year after year, by millions who walk the fallen soil of this planet, but who have tasted the forgiveness and grace from the One who made Himself nothing that we may be free.

Talent shows are ever-present on TV. Here’s one of the things that still bugs me about the way contestants sometimes respond to criticism.

Whenever Simon Cowell gives a brutally honest assessment of an American Idol performance, all of America watches the response of the contestant.

What will they say?

Will they take the criticism in stride?

Will they incorporate the truth and become better?

Or will they lash out against Simon (who is usually right)?

For years, we have heard the common refrain from contestants: “Well, Simon… That’s your opinion and you’re entitled to it.” Perhaps this reply showcases our culture’s resistance to seeing anything as objectively good or bad. Is beauty only in the eye of the beholder? Or are there transcendent standards of beauty and goodness?

This year, contestants have been more apt to admit that they might have performed badly. But they have often sought to justify themselves by saying: “But at least I had a good time.” Or: “Well, I was having fun up there.”

In other words: “It doesn’t matter whether or not I sounded terrible. It doesn’t matter if the arrangement stunk or if America and the judges thought the performance was lacking. What matters is that I had ‘fun’.”

It has been funny to watch Simon and the other judges respond politely, saying “Good for you” while probably thinking, America doesn’t care if you were having fun. Are you good enough to go on to the next round or not?

I wonder how many people in our society respond to the consequences of their bad decisions in the same way. “At least I had fun.”

I lost my job because I was looking at pornography at work, but at least I had a “good time.”

My wife left me because I was committing adultery, but at least the “affair” was “fun.”

My kids are rebelling because I have been an absent and distant parent, but at least I have had “fun” in all the extracurricular activities I was involved in.

However, people never really look back on their failures and think of how fun it was at the time. Equipped with 20/20 vision into their past, they see the whole picture and regret their failings. Sadly, those without Christ will race forward blindly lacking wisdom, discernment and direction and inevitably slam into more walls of failure and regret.

Our society believes that enjoyment of this life is the primary purpose of life. We are Epicureans now. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Negative consequences may come to us because of negative choices, but we can justify those consequences by appealing to “fun” and “pleasure.”

It is sad to watch people who appeal to the “good time” get voted off the next week. Real life comes crashing down. We face judgment for our choices. Perform badly for the judges on American Idol and the American public who is watching at home on TV and you will be sent packing, whether you had a good time or not.

The judgment of God is similar. Our performance before a holy and righteous God is sadly lacking. We have not reflected him rightly. We have not fulfilled the human vocation he gave us in the Garden. We have rebelled against his rule.

How many people will face the judgment of God in the same way? When those who refuse to bow the knee to Christ (the only one to offer God a perfect performance) will stand before his throne and hear the chilling words, “I never knew you,” how will they respond?

“Well, at least I had a good time…” could be the sad, last words of the sinner doomed to destruction.

- first posted in April 2009

I enjoyed sitting in for Ed Stetzer last week on The Exchange. N.D. (Nate) Wilson and I had a conversation about truth, beauty, the power of story, and the need for Christian pastors and Christian parents to train people to distinguish between the truth and the lies in the media we consume.

Nate is a prolific writer of both fiction and non-fiction books. Because of his experience as a writer, I asked him for a blog post about The Hunger Games on my blog. The strong reaction to his blog post - “Why Hunger Games is Flawed to Its Core” - certainly struck a nerve. (Just check out the comments.)

On The Exchange, we talked about the reaction to Nate’s take on The Hunger Games, as well as Twilight, 50 Shades, and the different ways Christians approach media consumption.

Full video here:

Wilson defends his take on Hunger Games:

How should young Christians filter media?

Wilson on Twilight and 50 Shades

Corina and I have been enjoying the Olympics this week. Whenever Romania and America are competing against each other, it makes things, well… interesting for us. 

In all seriousness, I’ve got to give props. Nadia Comăneci is one of the greatest gymnasts the world has ever seen. See the videos below. Unbelievable.

At the age of 14, Comăneci’s routine on the uneven bars was awarded a perfect ten. It was the first time in modern Olympic gymnastics history that the score had ever been awarded. Since the scoreboards were not equipped to display scores of 10.0, Nadia’s perfect marks were flashed as 1.00 instead. The crowd was at first confused but soon understood and gave her a rousing ovation. Over the course of the Olympics, Comăneci would earn six additional tens, en route to capturing the all-around, beam, and bars titles and a bronze medal on the floor exercise.

Nick Rynerson is a Christian and a music and film lover. He blogs at Gospel Community Culture and writes a weekly column on Country music for Christ and Pop Culture. Nick is a part of Charis Community Church in Normal, Illinois. His interests include taking his beautiful fiancé on dates, playing the mandolin, and reading. Twitter: @Nick_Rynerson

O Brother, Where Art Thou? was the most influential film that I watched growing up. It just sort of made sense to me. Maybe it was the sepia-tinted landscape, the old-timey music, or the dry and witty dialogue that first hooked me, but since then (I think I was 12 when I first saw it), for innumerable reasons, it has sucked me back in.

When I became a Christian, O Brother took on another level of spiritual significance. While it is by no means a “Christian film” (nor am I sure there is such a thing), the theological and deeply human truths of the film are resounding and beautifully packaged. And after dozens of viewings, every time I still come away with a whole new appreciation for the film.

Set in the Mississippi Delta during the mid 1930s (an amazing time and place culturally and musically), the story centers on three unlikely conspirators breaking off of the chain gang. While loosely based on Homer’s The Odyssey (although the Coen brothers claim to have never actually read it…), the story takes the aggressive Pete, the simple yet kindhearted Delmar, and the wanna-be bourgeois fast-talker Everett through the Deep South in search of Everett’s “treasure.” Along the way, they run into a Delta Blues singer who supposedly sold his soul to the devil, a traveling, one-eyed Bible salesmen, “Babyface” Nelson, and the governor of Mississippi.

The film paints the landscape in an idyllic and beautiful yet simple light (which probably explains why I think of the South in the 1930s like Owen Wilson thinks of Paris in the 1920s in Midnight in Paris, but that is another blog for a another time). The landscape lends to the story’s progression by being a moral constant: there is very little ambiguity in what is good and what is evil. It is Eden-esque in the sense that the land seems to be uncorrupted. The joyful bluegrass spirituals and old time folk lend themselves to this notion. The idea of a simpler time and clearly defined right and wrong evoke a longing for a time past, but the people themselves are a different story…

From the start of the film, our trio of heroes needs to be redeemed. Everett, Delmar, and Pete are running toward a new life and away from their old life in bondage, searching for a treasure that will absolve their former sins.

Take, for instance, the baptisms of Delmar and Pete. In one of the most powerful scenes in the film, Pete and Delmar see a congregation going down to the river to baptize their people and jump into the water with them. For them, it’s an absolution of the guilt that they had been wrestling with. And although it is met with dry, pessimistic scorn from Everett (the one in the group “capable of abstract thought”) and lends itself to a little jesting (“even if it did put you square with the Lord, the state of Mississippi is a little more hard nosed”), this freedom visibly tints the demeanor of these two characters for the rest of the film. In the process of the film (and in Scripture), the individual salvations are only a part of the great salvation process (2 Cor. 5:19; Rev. 21:5a) that spans the duration of the story.

Much like the story of redemption, O Brother starts with the words of a prophet (Gen. 3:15) and ends with a (literal and figurative) washing away of Satan and sin in fulfillment of a strikingly biblical narrative. While the characters do not represent that pinnacle of morality, it is their faith that carries them from desolation to treasure. Like the crooks, thieves, adulterers, and prisoners of Scripture that are redeemed despite their immoral witlessness, Pete, Delmar, and Everett are pardoned and rescued almost in spite of themselves. Actually, completely in spite of themselves.

One reason why I can always (always) come back to O Brother, Where Art Thou? is because of the triumphant hope that I know will somehow succeed despite the dire straits the characters are in: from seconds away from being lynched to almost being burned alive in a barn to being turned into a toad! I had that perspective in my everyday life. O Brother gets its power from the reality of the restoration it allegorically captures, and Scripture has promised a complete restoration (1 Thess. 4:16-17), yet I treat my everyday stressors like the world is collapsing! Films like this give us a bird’s eye view of what is to come, specifically, hardships, peril, heartache, drudgery, and then finally, glory.

While the Coen brothers may not have explicitly known that they were constructing a portrait of Christian salvation, they were well aware of the human longing for redemption. This is why art (especially art made by non-Christians) is so important. O Brother, Where Art Thou? can be a great reminder of who you are and where you are going.

I am thankful for the common grace of the Coen brothers and particularly this film. As a film enthusiast, I have seen a whole lot of movies, and I can confidently say that none of them tells me so well “you have been justified by faith alone; yeah, it is going to be a hard road, but there is hope at the end. Just hold on.”

Here we go again. Another superstar, one graced with undeniable talent, has spiraled out of control and met a tragic end. Whitney Houston has died at the age of 48.

Do you notice a pattern? Whether it’s the bluesy voice of Elvis Presley (dead at 42), silky smooth alto of Karen Carpenter (dead at 32), tortured genius of Kurt Cobain or soulful voice of Amy Winehouse (both dead at 27), the pattern is the same. Amazing talent brings fame and fortune which then swallows up these artists in a whirlpool of sin, addiction, and death.

Just a Cautionary Tale?

Whenever we watch these stories unfold, we are inclined to view them all as cautionary tales. Fame and fortune do not bring happiness. They had the world and lost their souls. Don’t set your heart on money or you could end up the same way. 

There is indeed something to be learned from these tragedies and the horrible consequences of sin and idolatry displayed before our eyes. But considering how thousands line up for days to audition for American Idol, it seems clear that American society is not heeding the warnings. Despite the obvious unhappiness of so many celebrities, throngs of aspiring singers still clamor for the world’s accolades and for the chance to be gossiped about in sensationalist magazines.

So yes, the early death of so many talented individuals does expose the emptiness of riches and success. But there is another lesson to be learned here, and it has to do with common grace. You see, the Evil One is not content with keeping people from hearing of God’s saving grace; he also wants to steal from the world those unusual gifts of common grace.

Common Grace

Consider how people talk about Whitney Houston. They speak of her voice as being “a gift.” Her voice was a gift from God (she was born with the talent), and her voice was a gift to the world (she shared it with us).

Notice also how people use terms like “awe” and “wonder” when describing her vocal prowess. “I was in awe of her.” “Her voice was magnificent.” “She was one-of-a-kind.” These are the kinds of descriptions we attach to majestic landscapes we see in creation.

People found a certain level of joy in Houston’s talent, which is why thousands of people who never knew her personally are devastated at her demise. And once you trace back the path of joy, you wind up moving from the gift to the Giver. The language of awe points us back to a God who is truly awesome and majestic.

It’s easy to follow the path from being awed at Houston’s talent to being awed at the God who grants talent in the first place. Whenever we see people in this world whose gifts inspire wonder, we are seeing signposts that point us to the God who loves the world enough to shower us with gifts of common grace, even as His greatest expression of love is demonstrated through the blood-drenched cross of His Son.

Robbing the World of Common Grace

So why do so many of these gifted individuals perish tragically? Certainly the perils of idolatry – money, fame, power – play a role.

But there’s more. The Evil One not only hates it when people find joy in God. He also hates it when people find joy in God’s gifts. So if he can snuff out the brightest lights of common grace, he will try. And that’s one reason we see a pattern of sinful squandering, self-destructive behavior that leads to the silencing of golden voices.

Don’t get me wrong. The superstars are always complicit in their own demise. In fact, in Houston’s case, she confessed that her sinful struggle with drugs was caused by her own heart. In a candid interview in 2002, Diane Sawyer listed a number of drugs and asked Houston which one was “the biggest devil” for her. Houston’s response?

“That would be me. It’s my deciding. It’s my heart. It’s what I want and what I don’t want. Nobody makes me do anything I don’t want to do. It’s my decision. The biggest devil is me.”

It’s an honest confession, and one that reminds us how intertwined are the causes of temptation (Satan and self). Houston’s story also reminds us that – just like in the story of the prodigal son – sin leads to the squandering of the Father’s good gifts. The Evil One is not content merely to hold people in spiritual bondage and lead them to hell. He wants to diminish even the contributions they make to the common grace we benefit from in society.

The Takeaway

So remember, sin always affects more than the individual who commits the offense. And that’s true for you and me too. Whenever we sin, we are consciously or unconsciously affecting those around us.

A pastor who fails morally is stealing more than another man’s wife. He is also robbing those around him of the opportunity to benefit from the particular gifts God has given to him. Satan loves for people – Christian and non-Christian alike – to squander good gifts from above and deprive the world of the joy of common grace.

That’s why the bright lights of common grace go dark before their time. It’s also why Satan wants to render ineffective in the church the gifts of those who have tasted God’s saving grace. Beauty is anathema to the Evil One, because all goodness and beauty finds its source in God.

Hope

The good news, of course, is that for the Christian, “greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world.” There’s no need for any Christian to serve as a cautionary tale. Nor do we need to be an example of Satan’s thievery of the gifts we contribute to Christ’s church. We hope in the One who has conquered sin and death and lavished His grace and gifts upon His children.

Here is the first (official) trailer for The Hobbit:

Over the weekend, my wife and I went to see Courageous, the newest movie made by the good folks at Sherwood Baptist Church in Albany, GA. The movie opened at #4 at the box office and brought in 9 million, which is a step above Sherwood’s Fireproof (2008), and makes it #5 for Christian movie opening weekends (behind The Passion of the Christ and the Narnia movies).

I thought about doing a full movie review, but there are too many ways to approach this film. I could review it in the way I review other films (artistry, character development, plotline, message), or review it in comparison to the three other Sherwood movies, or review it in terms of its message and potential impact. In the end, I thought it might be best to come at the movie from all these angles. So here are “some thoughts on Courageous.”

• Courageous is, by far, the best film that Sherwood Pictures has made. Facing the Giants was their break-out hit but was quite hokey in its concept and delivery (not to mention the prosperity-gospel message). Fireproof was a major leap forward, but Courageous goes even further. Alex Kendrick shows great improvement as an actor. The screenplay is several steps above Fireproof. The filmmaking of the action sequences rivals those put out by Hollywood. And one scene in particular (“The Snake Kings”) is laugh-out-loud funny.
• The message of Courageous is timely. The importance of fathers and the difficulties associated with fatherlessness are underscored by realistic examples of family-life. I think John Piper is right: “I would willingly take anyone to see this film, assuming they can handle suspense. And I think the conversations afterward would not be superficial.” The conversations afterward may prove to be more powerful and life-changing than the movie itself. But it’s good to see the message of Courageous igniting important questions about fathers and families.
• I get frustrated when Christians who bemoan the Church’s lack of engagement with the arts sneer at the perceived lack of artistry in movies like Courageous. It seems to me that whatever your thoughts on artistry and filmmaking might be, if you are looking for Christians to take a more active role in culture-making, then you should applaud and support anyone attempting to do something, even if you think the finished product could have been stronger. Evangelicalism has too many critics and not enough creators.
• Courageous is heavily didactic and a bit preachy at times, but I found this style to be part of its effectiveness. It’s preachy in the way that Uncle Tom’s Cabin was. Harriet Beecher Stowe was so passionate about the subject of slavery that she couldn’t help but begin sermonizing at times. The creators of Courageous feel the same way about the subject they are tackling. The purpose isn’t to create a classic movie but to get across a message. Seen in this light, it makes the didactic elements less distracting and helps make sense of the film’s purpose.
• About three quarters of the way through the movie, the plot line meanders a bit. Fifteen minutes or so could have been shaved off the film and it would have been stronger overall. Still, the characters are engaging, and there is enough character development to keep viewers interested.
• The truth that God raised Jesus from the dead is proclaimed after a tragedy. And the truth that the only way to escape judgment is by trusting in Jesus as our Substitute is presented in a way that works seamlessly into the movie. I was impressed by a scene in which one of the men complains about “feeling guilty,” to which the Christian replies, “I’ve got news for you; you are guilty.”
• The movie puts major emphasis on fathers resolving to “call out the men in their sons.” The movie condemns passivity in men as the leaders of their homes. The filmmakers want men to step up and fulfill their duty.
• One might quibble here and there with the emphasis on willpower – particularly when considering the pervasiveness of sin, but the script makes sure to ground good intentions in one’s relationship with God. “You’ve got to get right with God before you can get right with your son,” one character says. And the end of the movie features the main character calling the men of his church to step up and resolve to live courageously as fathers. Who will protect the family? “By God’s grace, I will!” he says. May all Christian fathers have such resolve!

One of the greatest and longest-running gags in humor history. Enjoy!

(Note: There are some years in which the strip is not available at the Peanuts archive at GoComics.)

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“Have you ever heard of The Dick Van Dyke Show?” I asked Dad. I was ten years old and had just seen a commercial about a “new” old show about to start re-running on Nick at Nite.

Knowing my love for writing, Dad replied, “Yes, son. And you will love that show, because it’s about a comedy writer.” Dad was right. Twenty years after I first discovered Dick Van Dyke and fifty years after the show first aired, I’m still a fan of the 1961-66 series now considered a television classic. The camaraderie of the cast, the rapid-fire jokes, the slapstick comedy, and the smart set-ups – it’s no wonder The Dick Van Dyke Show is still on the air today.

Dick Van Dyke is one of only a handful of performers who excels at expressing profound joyfulness in art. Just think of how brilliantly he infused the lowly occupation of a chimney sweep with dignity and joy in Mary Poppins. (Watch the clip “Step in Time” and you’ll what I mean.)

Now 85 years old, Van Dyke has just released his autobiography, My Lucky Life In and Out of Show Business: A Memoir, which humorously chronicles his illustrious career. The book is an interesting read at a number of levels, but I was most intrigued by Van Dyke’s willingness to open up about his desire to know God and the meaning of life:

“Throughout my whole life I have pondered the big questions… I would read the great thinkers and try to figure out what it all meant – my life and life in general. What was the point? What was I supposed to do? Was I getting it right?” (270)

The beginning of Van Dyke’s search for God goes back to his modest upbringing in the cultural Christianity of the Midwest. After attending a summer Bible school one year, Van Dyke (who was only eleven at the time) decided to read through the entire Bible. “I struggled through the various books, asked questions, and when I reached the end I had no idea what any of it meant,” he recalls (14).

Van Dyke’s desire to find answers to life’s big questions almost led him into the ministry. “The subject intrigued me intellectually,” he confesses. “But pretty soon I lost the fervor that inspired me to carry around a Bible and think deep thoughts. I joined the drama club instead – and found my true calling” (17). Though he pursued acting rather than ministry, Van Dyke’s curiosity about spiritual matters never went away, which is evident in the way he peppers his reflections with phrases like ”I planned nothing”, “I felt blessed”, and “Something greater than me was happening.”

The road to earthly success was not easy for Van Dyke or his family. But his persistence and work ethic opened the door to bigger and better opportunities. He was already married with four children when he became a television star. Interestingly enough, Van Dyke doesn’t credit himself for his success. Throughout the narrative, he constantly deflects praise, mentioning unsung heroes like writers, editors, and producers behind the scenes. He appears to be a genuinely humble man who marvels at his popularity.

Van Dyke’s religious upbringing and his desire to maintain normalcy in Hollywood led him to make important choices in regards to his career. He writes:

I met my agent, Sol Leon, for lunch at the commissary, and talked through my concerns. He asked the obvious questions: What kind of films did I want to make? Where did I see myself going in terms of movies? What sort of scripts should he look for?

“I’ve thought about this,” I said, “and I’m pretty clear on it. I only want to make movies that my four children can see.”

“Only kids’ movies?” he asked.

“Not kids’ movies,” I clarified. “I want to make movies that I can see with my kids and not feel uncomfortable.”

He expressed slight worry that that might limit my opportunities, particularly at this time when standards in Hollywood, like the culture itself, were beginning to change and evolve into what we remember as the more liberal, experimental Sixties. But I didn’t share his worries. I had a long-term vision in mind…

I wanted to be able to talk about my work at the dinner table and hold my head up on Sundays when my wife and I led our children into the Brentwood Presbyterian Church, where I was an elder. You were not going to see me acting up at Hollywood parties. For the most part, you weren’t going to see me at any Hollywood parties. I stayed home.

Van Dyke’s curiosity about God and the world led him to read a number of popular theologians of his day. “I was intensely curious and even passionate about God,” he writes. (124) He pondered the works of Buber, Tillich, Bonhoeffer, and Tournier. For the most part, his theological study led him further away from the beliefs of his youth. Though he defends the idea that there is a God to whom we are accountable, his view of life and salvation reflects a moralistic framework:

“Was there one way? No, not as far as I could tell – other than to feel loved, to love back, and to do the things that make you feel as if your life has meaning and value, which can be as simple as making sure you spend time helping make life a little better for other people. I decided if I could manage that I wouldn’t have any serious problems were there to actually be a Judgment Day.” (125)

Van Dyke’s spiritual journey moves from a culturally Christian view of the world to a more amorphous, general sense of seeking the divine. His spiritual trek goes from specific Christian teaching to vague spirituality:

“If knowing, finding, and giving love were the paths to knowing God, I thought people could get there without much additional doctrine.” (163)

In the 1970′s, Van Dyke’s church took an unfortunate stance on racial issues, which pushed him away from organized religion altogether. “I never went back there or to any other church. My relationship with God was solid, but the hypocrisy among the so-called faithful finished me for good.” (166)

Unfortunately, Van Dyke’s retreat from the church coincided with hypocrisy of his own: severe alcoholism and an adulterous affair that ended his marriage. He describes himself during this time as “writhing in guilt.” Along the way, he keeps asking, “What was I going to do with my life? What was going to make me happy? Why wasn’t I happy?” (202)

The memoir of Dick Van Dyke ends with the optimistic enthusiasm that has characterized his life. But I get the sense that this is a man who still hasn’t found the joy he is searching for. My heart aches for Van Dyke, knowing that even though he has given many people countless hours of happiness through his entertainment, he doesn’t appear to have found the everlasting joy that comes from knowing Christ. That’s why I’m praying the final chapters of Van Dyke’s life will be happier than the last chapter of his memoir. May he receive forgiveness offered through Jesus Christ and joy that never fades!