Grace in Practice: A Theology of Everyday Life, by Paul F.M. Zahl, 2007.

This is the most aggravating book I have read this year.  It is also the most profound book I have read all year.  At the Mockingbird Conference in September, people kept telling me about this book and how it convicts and challenges, but, I admit, I was skeptical.  Not anymore.  I feel like I got into a violent bar fight with myself; broken bottles, fists, slobbery blood and all.  I have not felt that way since I saw Modest Mouse in concert at Sasquatch in 2011.  Isaac Brock’s affinity for Bukowski, Nietzsche, and everything nihilistic and his gradual drunkenness giving an edge to his venomous lyrics as the two hour concert proceeded, made for a painful but highly effective concert.  This was an example of the world without grace and I felt bloodied.  This book, however, was attempting to show what grace looks like in everyday life and, again, I feel bloodied.  Maybe Flannery O’Connor was more right than even I could guess, that violence precedes and follows the grace of God.

Paul Zahl, I have decided, is not out to agree with people’s systems of thought.  He is out to unsettle them from their very foundations.  The first third of the book, or so, is the theological foundations for a “theology of everyday life” or a practical theology of grace.  He starts out with four pillars of his theology: the human condition (original sin, total depravity and the un-free will), Soteriology, Christology and the being of God.  Setting this down firmly, but with great wit, he then moves on to three areas of everyday life and how grace invades those areas: family, society and church. 

I said this was an aggravating book in part because elements of what he says are edgy and are on the surface going against my own viewpoints.  However, as he continues, its hard to not, at least, see where he is coming from and recognize the direction of his critique.  In the first part of the book (the theological foundations), I did take offense to his naming of elements of the book of Amos as Semi-Pelagian.  If there is a single book of the Bible that works me over more and more, it is Amos.  And, though, I am not sure that, in the end, I agree with this accusation, I could see where he was coming from.  That is the magic of Paul Zahl.  He will say something to knock you out of your self-made complacency to think about things in another direction.  Doesn’t mean you will agree with everything, but you will, at least, agree with why he makes those claims. 

In the largest portion of the book, he drops one bomb after another, reshaping and rethinking relationships with people, with the state and with the church under the realm of grace.  If you are not in a wrestling match with yourself during the majority of this book, then I am convinced you may be too far gone to be reached.  The most bloodying part of the book for me was Zahl’s view of the church, or a Christian’s ecclesiology.  Part of me was thinking that his critiques were just a product of post-modern critiques of institutions that is so cliche in the broader realm of Christendom.  However, by the time you have made it to that point and learned the theological foundations, learned how it works in the family and society, it is hard to leave that critique to stand on its own.  A lot of what he says about the church is true, too true.  And though I am still giving myself right hooks and cutting myself with a broken Shiner Bock bottle over that last part of the book (and various other elements of the book, as well), I find more and more validity to his concerns and his critiques.  Once again, will I ultimately agree?  Maybe, maybe not.  But he delivers the blows that need to be delivered. 

That being said, there were parts of the book that were like, “Finally, someone sees it the way I do.”  Especially when it came to grace in society.  I have already come to a position that is largely pacifist and pro-life in all instances (as in death penalty, self-defense, etc., not just abortion).  However, Zahl even unsettled me there too.  He checked the idealistic nature of my pacifism.  His understanding that idealism usually accompanies a high view of human anthropology (or, high view of the human condition) is largely true.  The “If I am a pacifist in my life, and others are too, then the world will be better and will progress toward a greater good” argument is a misunderstanding of the world and humans.  Living in grace means failure, suffering, loss and losing the battle most of the time, if not all of the time!  Being a pacifist should not give us high hopes of progress and human empowerment, but, instead, should prepare us to lose, so that God can then work in our powerlessness. 

All of this, the challenges and the agreements of this book are like the scene in The Dark Knight Rises when Bane breaks Batman’s back and Batman has to learn how to walk again.  It is the same thing for me in reading this book.  Paul Zahl has broken my back, and started breaking my control, my will (though that will be a life-long affair), so that I might see my life and my life in relation to others through the lens of grace instead of the law.  Grace engenders what the Law couldn’t.  The Law only multiplied sins, but the grace of God in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, brought about the obedience to the Law that the Law couldn’t produce.  Just like Abraham believed in the promises of God, first, and then was obedient, we, too, need to allow grace to break our backs, so that we may start to be obedient to God and his will.  O’Connor was right when, time and time again, she proclaimed that it took violence to break our wills so that God could then do his will in us, which, too, was violence in the mortifying of the flesh; the justification and sanctification of his people.

Kudos to Paul Zahl for making me have the internal, bloody, conflict with myself.  At the end of the day, whoever wins, I still lose.  And I thank God for that.

Day Twenty-Nine: À l’intérieur [Inside] (2007) - dirs. Alexandre Bustillo, Julien Maury

Leave it to the French to make the most disturbing slasher on the whole list.  The one nice thing about European film is that they are not as apt to give in to Puritanical moral codes when their nations are way past being largely Christian in their makeup.  America is notoriously bad about trying to retain Christian “values” (which became a little too individualistic in their interpretations) when the climate of the nation is largely secular even when most people claim a nominal Christian identification.  I am not sure that this film would have been made in the US, at least not without major cuts and edits from the MPAA.  I actually shuddered during one of the kill scenes because I think it was even a little too much for me (which should worry a majority of people because I have a fairly thick skin). 

The film opens up with a car wreck and shot of a baby in utero hitting the inside of a woman’s stomach.  The camera pans out to the wreck on the outside of the womb to show a man and woman (who is pregnant) in bad shape after the wreck.  We come to find out that the husband dies leaving the wife alone and close to birth.  The movie skips ahead to the night before the child is to be born and the young mother is at home still recalling her husband and in grief, when a knock comes at the door.  A woman is on the other side saying that the baby to be born belongs to her and knows various details about the young woman.  This sets into motion a dark and violent night of cat and mouse with the women in a bloody struggle: one trying to cut the baby out and one just trying to survive. 

Half of the time I wasn’t sure if the movie was actually scary or tense or just grotesque (and, more than likely, it a bit of all of them), the other half I just felt sorry for this young mother-to-be.  Throughout the horrific night, it never ceases to amaze the audience what the young lady is willing to do in order to have this child.  At one point, a sharp object is shoved into her throat and she pulls it out, as the bloods leaks out of it, and she gets up and takes some duct tape out of a drawer and wraps a large piece around her neck to stop this bleeding.  She is that determined and that hardcore.  Admittedly, this film is not for the squeamish, because it contains very gory and disturbing imagery, but, interestingly enough, it takes artistic cues from Italian giallo films with its choice of color filters.  There is a red haze that settles over most of the film which, visually, lends to the intensity of the film.

To be honest, the thing that struck me throughout the movie is the dichotomy of the determination to live (or give life) with the equal determination to take life.  The twist of the film plays on this very dichotomy which ends up giving the audience a warped sense of sympathy for the villain.  She too has had life taken from her, just as she is, also, taking life.  The most intense symbol of this idea of living and protecting life is found in the young mother who is being tortured and threatened throughout the night.  She never gives up protecting the child inside of her regardless of how hopeless it starts to seem (and there are a couple of pretty hopeless parts in this film!).  It creates a strange dissonance to have such life affirmation being portrayed in a film that is so dark and violent and bent on taking life.  Admittedly, neither one of the women wants the unborn baby to die.  However, the villain wants the baby for herself in order to gain the child she lost.  Even then, her want of life is still the need to take life away from another.  A lot of interesting theology could be brought out from this film.  And an ample amount of social commentary could be interpreted from it as well.  Interesting film, but not necessarily an entertaining film.

Christianity’s Dangerous Idea: The Protestant Revolution - A History from the Sixteenth Century to the Twenty-First, by Alister McGrath, 2007.

I think this was exactly the book that I needed to read at this point in my life.  I am starting to feel the pressures competing theological viewpoints and biblical interpretations.  From reading McGrath’s analysis of the Protestant experiment, I am not the only one who has felt this way, nor will I be the last.  The absolute beauty of this book is how seamlessly McGrath binds historical research, theological intuitiveness and a big picture mentality into near 500 pages.  I truly think this is an important book for the times, a truly important book for me. 

He begins the book with a brief, but dense, historical landscaping of the Protestant movements from the 16th century to the 19th century.  Drawing from both primary and secondary sources in order to draw out the real nature of Protestantism and its place within the scope of the history of the Christian Church.  The second section stretches into a more detailed look at the theology that has developed throughout these initial centuries of Protestantism.  He deals with biblical interpretation, ecumenical movements, relations to the sciences and the arts, and church governance and polity.  All the while weaving in interesting side notes about Protestantism’s ties to political and imperial forces.  The final section deals with the mutations that Protestantism has come through in the twentieth century with the rise of Pentecostalism and its significant influence in the Global South and the movement away from strict Western contextualizations of theology and the church.  Probably the most interesting part of this section was the history of American Protestantism in the twentieth century and the rather strange discussions of the place of the Bible in changing cultural contexts.  Once again, McGrath is absolutely stellar at being clear and concise in how he describes these changes and movements while presenting both the benefits and the potential problems inherent in each one. 

Overall, this book is a must read for anyone who claims to be a Protestant and wants to really know their historical roots.  I think you will be surprised at just how varied and intriguing those roots are.  The Protestant movements have always been based around the book, the Word of God, and the believer’s ability to interpret it for themselves without the coercion of more institutional authorities directing them.  The most amazing thing about this book is just how this, Christianity’s dangerous idea, has been one of the biggest thorns in the side of Protestantism.  They have never been comfortable with too much institutionalization of their faith outside of what is essential for all things to survive.  Inherent in this book is an interesting challenge and charge to those who want to be true to their Protestant heritage to be humble in the proclamations of their own interpretation- (and tradition-) based understandings of the Bible and the resultant theological systems.  No single movement has been without flaws, cultural accommodation, and weaknesses. 

To conclude, I shall quote, at length, a particular clever and telling analogy that McGrath gives to show the nature and structure of Protestantism:

“The origins of Protestantism lie in what was ultimately an uncontrollable burst of creative energy directed toward the intellectual and spiritual reform of the church.  That creative burst gave birth to a solar system of planets of various sizes revolving around a biblical sun at different distances and in orbits of varying eccentricity; there was no single, unambiguous Protestant template, gene, or paradigm controlling their formation.  A plurality of related though competing biblical interpretations jostled for space, attention, and influence in many parts of western Europe.  One pattern that emerges from the development of Protestantism is what seems to be an endless cycle of birth, maturing, aging, and death, leading to renewal and reformulation.” (pg. 463)

Eyes Wide Open: Looking for God in Popular Culture, by William D. Romanowski, 2007.

I have read quite a few books on pop culture and Christianity and, in most cases, I have found their argumentation to be too simplistic in one area or another.  This, however, is not the case with Romanowski’s book.  He sets out to seriously handle the complexities of pop culture and the complexities of the Christian’s interaction with pop culture.  The first part of the book is an introduction to the landscape how pop culture works and Christianity’s often complicated relationship with it throughout history.  The second part of the book deals with the defense of pop culture at art, distinctions on how critics have approached the subject and showing the false dichotomy between low and high art.  The final section of the book deals with the development of a purely Christian critique and appreciation for pop culture.  In this section, Romanowski presents various elements of pop culture in America and how the Christian, oftentimes unknowingly,assimilates their views with non-biblical American views.  Some of these include the simplicity and flawed nature of the melodramatic in American pop culture, issues of sex and sexuality, gender and the issue of violence, which Christians tend to overlook as non-important. 

I think the most effectual chapters in this book began with his argument that the distinction between high and low art is largely a cultural construction and that those who look down on low art, or pop culture, and embrace only “high art” are using it merely as a means of social status and a way to show the modernist program of human progress.  That somehow there is a path through high art that will lead man to a perfection in expression.  His point is not to downgrade the greatness of “high art” but to strip away the pretense that finds itself in those who reject pop culture as art.  I agree with this point.  I think human creations regardless of their populist or specific bent can point to the beauty of God’s creative spark in all humanity.  They all show something of God, whether the artists believe or not.  For all men know their Creator, but some deny him, but not even they can totally divest themselves of those things that God gave them.  That would be the program of great futility to attempt that. 

I found all of his chapters where he dissects American pop culture to be greatly helpful, especially the chapter on melodrama and violence.  For once I found, in words, what I have been on the edge of in my mind.  These overly simplistic and simple depictions of good and evil, happy endings, simple problems with simple solutions, all of which only give a hopeful idea of what the world should look like.  This would be alright if it was based on God’s action as the Redeemer, but in American pop culture, the way the world should be is attained by recognizing our own abilities and some inner greatness with maybe just a little bit of magical help from the outside.  This is not the Christian conception.  Things are not that easy and simple in this world and our hope is not in ourselves but in our God.  To be honest in portrayals of the world, showing that we can’t solve or fix everything ourselves and that, in the big picture, we have very little control over the actions and events of our lives.  This dependence on God and the ability to portray that sincerity and transparency in works of art in pop culture is truly rare these days.  At the same time, Romanowski’s criticism of the Christian’s view of violence come to the culmination in a story from a friend of his who worked at a video store.  A Christian mother came in and asked about a recent teen slasher flick, whether or not it had any sex or nudity in it.  The friend told her that it didn’t have much of that but that there was graphic depictions of murder, slitting throats, stabbings, etc.  The mother’s reply was “That’s fine, as long as it doesn’t have sex in it.”  Romanowski’s point is that Christians, in American society at least, pick and choose elements that they was to criticize when, in fact, every aspect of art should be under the lens of a Biblical understanding of man, God and the world. 

This was an extremely well-written book and one that I think I will be going back to as I think more on this subject from time to time.  He never once gave in to cliche Christian responses or answers to criticism or overly-generalized understandings of pop culture.  He knew and loved the subject and the reader can tell.  One of the blurbs on the back said this book was in the same vein as Lewis and Schaeffer, however, I would be comfortable with the Lewis suggestion, it is plain to see that this books is levels above Schaeffer and his approach, which, over the years, I have found to be rather in-comprehensive and spotty at best.

Resounding Truth: Christian Wisdom in the World of Music, by Jeremy S. Begbie, 2007.

I have read quite a few books about music and its intersections with theology, whether it was about blues, rap, rock ,etc.  And generally speaking, whenever classic music is brought up as the example of choice, I tend to tune it out.   This is not because I hate classical music, quite the contrary, but because I have a very limited understanding of it.  I am much more well-versed in the heavy metal/folk/hip hop traditions than classical.  A fault in my character? Maybe.  However, that is just the way things are for me.  So When I began reading this book and recognized that classical music was, in fact, the examples of choice, I began to become hesitant, however Begbie laid my fears to rest.  He actually made his musical points understandable; he wrote it on the lay level.  Now, that is not to say that I understood all of the musical theory and structures, but I have a better grasp of it now than I did before.  This aspect is only part of the brilliance of this book though.

The most significant aspect of this book was thoughtful and insightful way that he illuminated music through the use of theology and illuminated theology through the use of music.  Most books attempt to do this, but they either oversimplify the musical theories and structures and emotive aspects therefore rendering music impotent of its intellectual emotive power or they water down theology to fit whatever structures they intend to get across to the reader, rendering theology to be impotent of its power and salvific elements.  Begbie shows such grace in characterizing the counterpoints of music and theology.  His understanding of theology would rival any of the best out there today and, of course, his knowledge of music is, not just technical, but extremely profound.  His passion for both shines through in his writing and the reader can tell that he is truly concerned about understanding theology and music together because all things come under the domain of the God of the Bible.  He critiques all sides, Christian and not, and shows where the weaknesses of each time period of music history (and theology) are.  A good portion of the book is diving into different personalities who attempted to reconcile music, one of the most effervescent forms of the arts, to a Biblical understanding of God and reality.  He deals with Pythagoras, Augustine, Martin Luther, John Calvin, Huldrych Zwingli, J.S. Bach, Friedrich Schleiermacher, Karl Barth, Dietriech Bonhoeffer, and others who had something significant to say about the nature of this relationship.  Now, this does not mean that he holds to all of these aspects, but he wanted to give the reader a context to think about the subject in. 

Even though he does deal with technical aspects of music, he also broaches the conversation of how music affects us emotionally (which is usually the direction of the arguments made against music as a means of understanding reality and God) and, though he acknowledges complexities and debates, he clarifies quite a few misnomers about how emotions work and how music affects them.  Most of the book is dealing with non-lyrical music and so his analysis is largely based, not on text, but the sonic order that presents in the music itself.  That was the most enlightening aspect of the book in the end. 

The density of the book did not lend itself to quick understanding of areas that I might have been critical of.  So there is nothing off the top of my head that I want to point out as potential problems with his argumentation.  This is easily one of the most stellar books I have read, period.  Extremely impressed with his knowledge of theology and his thoughtful analysis of how it intertwines and separates from music. 

The Cusack Chronicles: Martian Child (2007)

What happens when you adopt a child who thinks that he is a martian?  That is exactly the premise behind this film.  So many aspects of this film could have easily led it down a very cliched and emotionally shallow path, but Menno Meyjes, the director of Max, another Cusack vehicle, is able to keep the messages of the film from being overly simplistic, which these types of family films often fall into.  They take shortcuts in finding solutions for conflicts between the kids and the parents.  However, even though it does fall into this at times, the overall point of the film has a much deeper, introspective meaning.  The emotional and psychological effects of child abandonment and abuse present themselves in relatively realistic ways in the film.  David (Cusack) is a widower who is just figuring out life without his beloved wife and decides to adopt a child, because it had always been a wish of his wife’s.  The creative side of the film is that it does seem, at times, that Dennis may in fact be what he says, though the viewer already knows the inevitable conclusion. 

John Cusack does a great job as a single father who finds a portion of his heart that needs to be expended to this adopted child, but, knowingly, does not have it all together.  He is often figuring out how to survive in the same world.  It is the interaction between John Cusack and Bobby Coleman (who also was in Must Love Dogs) that makes the film.  There is a natural ease in how they act together.  I think the strongest point of the film is the very pro-adoption stance that the film takes.  At one point, David states, “I don’t want to bring another kid into this world. But how do you argue against loving one that’s already here?”  That line alone expresses a very Christian theme that we often overlook in this world.  Yes, it is good to have your own children, but there are tons of children out there that don’t have families, people who love them, role models, etc.  Whether they can be found in America or overseas, there is a need there and to not, at least, weigh that option of giving love to those who are orphaned, abused, abandoned, or so forth is, in fact, selfish on our parts.  The movie provides something challenging to people to open their hearts to children who are already living that are in need of love and a home.  This is ultimately the message that makes this movie a solid effort by all involved in it. 

The Cusack Chronicles: 1408 (2007)

A sure sign that you have made it to leading man status is when you are signed on to do a movie that is basically a one man show.  I don’t even know why they put Samuel L. Jackson’s name on top billing, he was only in it for about 10-15 minutes.  The rest of the time it is John Cusack being eccentric and cynical as ever.  Tom Hanks had Castaway (with Wilson, the volleyball), Cusack gets 1408 (and “an evil f****** room”).  Mike Enslin (Cusack) is an author of guide books to haunted hotels, mansions, etc., but he doesn’t actually believe any of it.  He doesn’t believe in ghosts or anything else supernatural (including God).  But there is something in him, driving him to find evidence for something which we find out later in the film.  He receives a postcard from the Dolphin Hotel and it simply reads Don’t Enter 1408 (which he quickly notices that the numbers add up to 13) and so, naturally, he goes to stay in the room in search of “ghosties, ghoulies and long-legged beasties.”  What happens to him during his stay is the majority of the film. 

The beauty of this film, which is based on a rather dull and unimaginative short story by Stephen King, is that it is claustrophobic, simple (not simplistic!) and it allows everything eccentric about John Cusack, as an actor, to come out in full force with few checks.  Cusack delivers this film on a platter to the audience and it looks like he had a blast making the film.  Mikael Halfstrom, the director, was integral to the success of the film as well.  He did not rely on big shocks or CGI-ed ghosts, but instead let Cusack be the source of the suspense.  The multi-level story drawn by the writers was something that King only wishes he could do as a writer (much like Darabont’s work on The Mist, The Green Mile, and Shawshank Redemption).  This is a wonderful “haunted house” movie that can even be enjoyed by most of the family, though there are still some pretty disturbing scenes at times.  I would say that this was definitely in the top ten films for John Cusack and easily one of the most enjoyable to watch.

The Cusack Chronicles: Grace is Gone (2007)

This is an extremely tough movie to watch and it is not because it is bad, actually it is just the opposite.  It is a tough movie to take in because of the subject matter and how delicately the director and writers handled it.  Stanley (Cusack), the husband of a woman in the military, receives the news that she was killed in action.  Instantaneously, he decides to take his two daughters on a trip to Enchanted Gardens because his youngest wanted to go there.  The movement of the story revolves around the wrenching agony of when Stanley is going to break the news to his daughters when the rest of the immediate world already knows.  The movie is tough because of the emotional tension felt in Stanley’s character and its resolution in the inevitable conclusion.  Regardless of Cusack’s political views and more than likely most of the views of the people who worked on this film, they avoided making politically volatile statements.  Instead they let the story (the story of hundreds and hundreds of families in the US and in the world) speak for itself.  The only statement that is made in this movie is that war inevitably ends in devastation in one form or another, regardless of whether it is justified or not.  Life is taken, and the survivors are left to pick up the pieces.

The absolute beauty of this film is the acting by Cusack and the two girls who played his daughters.  All of them did amazing work and made it realistic AND emotionally powerful.  The movie never succumbed to what I call emotional manipulation (aka Nicholas Sparks syndrome) where the whole movie was just a means to a predetermined end (oftentimes crying and saddened mothers, wives and daughters).  Yes, you are supposed to have an emotional response to this movie, especially by the end, but that response will not be the same for everyone.  All I could think of during the film was the promise of God wiping away our tears and healing our sorrows on that not so distant day.  We are stuck in a world where death is inevitable.  It is also the final enemy of God, but He has promised to overcome it.  Yes, the wounds are deep and serious and, oftentimes, violent, but just as the man and his two daughters sit on the beach watching the sun go down, there is a sense of hope in the film.  And this hope is the feeling that one day there will be no pain, no tears, no violence, no war, and no death.  This is easily in the top five John Cusack films.  It is brief, but emotionally intelligent.  A must-see for anyone.