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.

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!

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

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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!

Prince Caspian

Caspian may have had a lackluster performance at the box office. It may have botched a few things (like Aslan and Lucy’s conversation – “every year you grow, so shall I” and the rebellious streak the writers gave Peter), but the movie stayed true to the storyline and intent of Lewis. The additional scenes creatively enhanced and explored the hints that Lewis himself had placed in the book.

For example, even if the attack on Miraz’s castle was invented, the writers added a moving vision of self-sacrifice, as one of the animals – in cruciform fashion – holds up the gate while everyone else escapes. Lewis would have been pleased, if not with the story departures, then surely with the intention and tone.

Not so with The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Believe me, no one wanted to be a bigger cheerleader for this film than me. I wanted to love this film as much as I love the book. It pains me to speak critically of a movie that has so many things going for it. So first, let’s look at the positives.

What I Liked

Will Poulter plays the role of Eustace Scrubb precisely the way I have imagined this character to be.

Reepicheep is more valiant and honorable than ever, stealing the show in more ways than one.

The special effects are outstanding. (We watched the film in 3-D. Nothing is added by seeing the film in 3-D, but it is still a fine presentation.)

What Narnia-lover isn’t excited to see the Dufflepuds on the big screen, the Magician’s book, or the Dawn Treader itself? I couldn’t help but enjoy the movie – primarily because it’s based on a book I love. But I was disheartened by the changes in storyline, changes which ultimately mangle the theological vision of the book.

Eustace the Hero?

I was deeply disappointed in how the filmmakers handled Eustace’s time as dragon. In the book, Eustace becomes a dragon for a short period of time. Aslan does his work, and Eustace is transformed back into a boy.

In the movie, the writers decided that lengthening the time Eustace is a dragon would serve the plotline. Eustace becomes the movie’s hero. In fact, he goes from zero to hero within a half hour. Lewis would never have allowed such a move. Why? Because the point of Eustace’s time as dragon was to show his need for Aslan’s transformation – apart from anything he could do himself. The book shows Eustace as a loser who is shown mercy. The film shows Eustace as a hero getting his reward.

Another aspect related to this change irks me. In the book, redemption for Eustace looks remarkably ordinary. He becomes a crew member and takes his place on the ship with the others. He joins the team. There’s something distinctly Christian about Lewis’ vision of redemption that leads to an ordinary, common life among a community of redeemed individuals. Unfortunately, the filmmakers aren’t satisfied with the subtle redemption that leads to a mission-focused community. Eustace has to become the hero whose efforts bring salvation to the rest.

The Temptation Scenes

I don’t know where to start with the temptation scenes and the green mist. (Note to the creators of Lost: if you sued Fox for stealing your smoke monster idea, you’d win.)

I understand the need to give an episodic book like Dawn Treader a little more continuity. The added plot device of the seven swords was helpful to the film and not harmful to the book. But the temptation scenes are a disaster – not in how they are acted, but the message they send.

How in the world does Lucy’s temptation for beauty become a message that tells viewers, “Just be yourself.”? Yes, the film gets it right that “evil is inside you.” Glad to see that. But the film teaches that the resolution to the evil in you comes from being true to your deeper, better self. Willpower saves.

More than that, the way to overcome temptation is simply to know temptation is coming. When the time of testing comes, everyone thinks, “Gee, we’re being tested.” And once tested, you receive your reward… which leads to the worst misstep of all.

The Noble Shall Inherit the Kingdom of God

The final scene on the shore looks wonderful. Aslan is majestic. The special effects are extraordinary. And thankfully, the writers keep the words of Aslan to Lucy and Edmund – you shall know me by another name in your world. Chill bumps, anyone?

But my satisfaction was dashed when the rest of the scene turned upside down the entire theological vision of Lewis. “My country is made for those with noble hearts,” says Aslan. Really? In the context of the film, the message is: be true to yourself, become a hero, and then you can head into Aslan’s country. That this vision of salvation has C.S. Lewis’ name on it is a travesty.

Conclusion

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is well worth seeing. Despite its flaws, it’s a good movie. The filmmaking is outstanding. The casting is superb.

But – as I said in the title of this post – I believe The Voyage of the Dawn Treader will be the last of the Narnia movies. It does not maintain enough of the original vision to captivate Narnia fans. Neither do the changes benefit the movie in a way that would attract new fans to the series. Ever since Prince Caspian, the franchise has been sinking. Dawn Treader, unfortunately, isn’t good enough to keep it afloat.

I’d like to use this space to publicly thank you for being parents that were willing to take the hard road instead of the easy road.

Thank you for limiting my access to computer games and Nintendo when we were growing up.

I realize it would have been much easier for you to let the Nintendo babysit us four kids. But you put our well-being ahead of your own comfort and taught us to read, write, make music, create radio shows, play in the backyard, and make movies. We’re the better for it today.

Thanks for not giving in to our whiny pleas for the newest video games that our neighbors had. Thanks for insisting that we would be better, happier, more well-rounded children by causing us to entertain ourselves instead of sit like zombies in front of Mario and Luigi.

Thanks for not being legalistic about Nintendo. We appreciate the rainy days in which you brought down the Nintendo from the closet top shelf and let us play our hearts out. But thanks even more for putting the Nintendo back up when the sun returned.

Thanks for allowing us to play educational computer games. But thanks also for the thirty-minute timer you set for us each time we played.

Thanks most of all for being involved, for caring about what we were putting into our minds. Thanks for giving us a childhood that some of our friends missed out on – the backyard romps in the clubhouse, the creek Kingdom, all the cassette tapes we made as we created our own sitcoms.

Thanks for the parameters and guidelines you set up for us. We didn’t understand or like them then, but they look like good parameters we want to set for our own kids now.

Love,

Trevin

Originally posted on January 29, 2008

Lost was groundbreaking in many ways, and it will certainly take its place in history as one of the most thought-provoking dramas to grace the airwaves. It was not perfect (remember the sluggish pace of Season 3 or the introduction of Nikki and Paulo?), but I’m confident that it will be remembered for setting a new standard for television drama.

What are some lessons that Christians can take away from this pop culture phenomenon?

1. People are interested in the big questions of life.

Though many strategies for growing the church have recommended that preachers shy away from deep questions in favor of practical advice for daily living, Lost demonstrates that a large segment of the American population (particularly in the age range 18-39) hungers for answers to deep philosophical and spiritual questions.

• Is there good and evil?
• How do human free will and divine sovereignty work together?
• Are people basically good or evil?
• Is there hope for redemption?
• What happens when someone dies?
• Do our present choices affect our future decisions?
• Is there an afterlife?

Lost didn’t answer these questions well, and often, the answers given were contradictory. Nevertheless, the show was bold enough to ask these questions and expect the audience to think. Surely the church must not sit back and allow the convoluted worldviews of Hollywood to be the primary formative influence regarding these questions.

2. People are looking for the purpose behind pain and suffering.

One of the central questions posed by Lost was whether there was a reason for the plane crash and for these particular people to be placed on this particular island. Ironically, though the show was quite postmodern in its sensibilities (especially in the way it was often difficult to decipher who was good and evil), Lost continued to appeal to audiences by offering “answers” to questions about the purpose behind the main characters’ travails.

Can what is intended for evil be turned to good? Lost tried to demonstrate how multiple “bad events” could bring about good consequences. The church, however, has the incomparable cross of Christ, where – within the greatest evil ever committed – God the Son provides the sacrifice for human sin and becomes the catalyst for cosmic restoration.

3. There is a crisis of fatherhood today that has caused immeasurable pain, sorrow and anger.

Lost often centered on the “daddy issues” in the back stories of many of the characters.

• Jack and Claire’s father was a perfectionist who drilled inferiority into his son and eventually became a philandering drunk.
• Kate’s drunken father abused and terrorized her mother.
• Locke’s father was absent for most of his life, reappearing only to take advantage of him in a sickening way.
• Hurley’s father was absentee.
• Ben’s father blamed him for his wife’s death.
• Sun’s father was a hard-working tyrant.
• Eko’s father instilled violence in his children.

Most disturbing was that, in some cases, the main characters’ anger toward their dads led them to patricide (Kate, Locke, Ben). Lost presents a frightening picture of what takes place when the biblical vision of manhood and fatherhood is abandoned. Suffering, anger, pain and violence are left in the wake of a father’s abdication of responsibility.

4. People long to be part of a story bigger than their personal story, but which is able to incorporate and add meaning to their individual experiences.

Lost was known for including hundreds of seemingly insignificant details, which merely encouraged fans to try and put the pieces together to see how they might fit into the big picture. Even when our favorite characters died or the show’s plotlines turned bizarre, fans believed that there was a purpose behind all the pain and suffering.

Lost didn’t always succeed in this area. As the seasons progressed, the complexity of the storyline often dwarfed the individual plotlines. Character development suffered. Yet fans continued to watch, hoping that the characters’ stories would make sense within the overall picture that the Lost writers were creating.

Why did Lost strike such a chord? Because this desire for meaning and purpose behind our individual stories is very much wired into us as humans. Lost never fully succeeded at satisfactorily tying the stories together into the show’s meta-narrative. But there is one Story that will.

The Christian faith teaches that we are part of a Story that is about Jesus Christ, the King of the universe. The slain Lamb is the conquering king – through whom and for whom our world exists.

Ironically, when we live as if our personal story is at the center of our universe, we struggle to find meaning and significance. But when Christ is at the center and we are pushed to the periphery, it is then – in that place of seeming obscurity and insignificance – that we find true worth and value, by giving glory to the King with whom we can become united through faith.

At the great finale of the history of this world, when the King returns and subdues everything under his feet, when God becomes all in all and sums up everything in Christ, all of this world’s suffering and pain, all of our unanswered questions will be resolved in light of the God who comes to dwell with man and wipe every tear from every eye.

Now that is a finale worth waiting for!

• bough (pronounced bow)
• rough (pronounced ruff)
• through (pronounced thru)
• cough (pronounced coff)

This line from Ricky expresses Corina’s sentiment many times: In Spanish (or in Corina’s case, Romanian), you got a sound and it sounds the same… all the time. You write it the same way, it sounds the same way, no matter what word you put it in, it comes out the same way!