Underdog Religion

I am sucker for underdog stories. Then again, it appears that most of America is. As a culture, we eat up tales of people overcoming hardships and beating the “odds.” Sports movies, romantic comedies, mainstream dramas all play into this love of tension.

One of the key ingredients to any successful story is a believable conflict. In fact, when I introduce narrative writing to my students, this is the first and foremost lesson I give them- no conflict, no story. We want a conflict, and we want it resolved.

What does this say about us? Why do we desire an imaginary conflict in the world of stories, and moreover, why do we so often desire for that conflict to be a battle of wills, pitting a tiny “underdog” (with whom we undoubtedly relate) against a larger “villain” who is oppressing and denying our valiant hero the right to be successful at what they love- whether a chance to win the girl, freedom from oppression, or even winning the Heavyweight Championship.

I will openly confess that I love boxing. (Truth be told, I love MMA too.) I grew up on boxing. One of the few family TV programs that I actually enjoyed (sorry Mom and Dad, but no matter how much I pretended, I did not enjoy reruns of Cops or the Montel Williams show) was when we all sat down on Tuesday nights to watch Fight Night on the USA network. I understood the artistry of boxing, the dance, the finesse, and yes, the violence. I lived, like I suspect many a scrawny nerdy young boys like me (I used to read a book while walking to school- like Belle in the intro of Beauty and the Beast), vicariously through the tough, muscled figures on the screen who stood toe to toe and landed punch after punch on their willing opponent.

And the only thing actually better than boxing was boxing movies. They were boxing without the terrible undercards or commercials. I can, and on multiple occasions have, quoted the end of Rocky IV, the part where the slurred speech of Sylvester Stallone tries to solve the Cold War with a few mumbled words into a microphone. (I’m not saying it worked, but Rocky IV came out in 1985 and the Berlin Wall fell only 4 years later). I love boxing movies- everything about them.

And it wasn’t just the Rocky series either- I love them all: Cinderella Man, Ali, Kid Galahad (a great boxing movie staring Elvis himself). I even love the darker ones- Raging Bull, Hurricane, or Million Dollar Baby. So this year, I was excited to see one of my favorite actors lining up to play the washed up ex-boxer who trains his brother in true story of “Irish” Micky Ward (who I saw fight live on Pay Per View against Arturo Gatti in one of the best matches I’ve ever seen).

And I was not disappointed. Not only did Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo, and Mark Wahlberg knock the movie out of the ring, but they managed to create what I love most about boxing movies- the feeling that I was rooting for an underdog.

America loves underdogs so much we create them even when they don’t exist. We are a country built on an underdog story. We declared war on and beat the largest, most powerful military of the time. Forget the fact that we did it with the financial and military assistance of the second largest country, or that we fought “dirty” by the wartime standards of the time. Forget the fact that we did exactly what Vietnam did to us some 200 years later, dragging out the war hundreds of miles away from our opponent’s country while we hid and would not fight in open battles. We were David, and the Goliath went down. We were Balboa to their Ivan Drago.

So what is it about underdog stories that are so appealing? And how in the world does that connect with the Christian faith?

A little over a hundred years ago, Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche wrote a series of books that have laid the groundwork for the modern (or rather post-modern to use the philosophical term) thought. One of the most shocking claims by Nietzsche is that Christianity (and by proxy Judiasim) has created a sense of “slave morality” in the world. Nietzsche argues this slave morality, which is meant to keep all mankind in the “shackles of guilt” should be replaced by the “hero morality” of the ancient Greeks.

It is worth noting that these theories led to the rise of European superpowers like Nazi Germany.

Was Nietzsche correct? Is Christianity a religion for the sniveling, whiny, oppressed and needy? Is Christianity a religion for the skinny kids or the fat kids or the gay kids or awkward goth kids? Is Christianity a religion for wimps?

Well, yes.

I like underdog movies because I fundamentally believe I am an underdog. I will regale anyone who listens with tales of my incredibly difficult upbringing (which wasn’t hard at all), my overbearing parents (who really weren’t that bad) or my tough challenges to get where I am today (which is mostly the work of my amazing wife). Ask me and I will tell you; I am indeed an underdog.

Except that I’m not. I was lucky to be born in the most economically successful country in the world, fortunate enough to have gone to an exceptional public school, and somehow blessed enough to find a willing partner for my life journey pretty early in the game (I use the word partner here loosely- she does 90% of the work).

I have met underdogs- real underdogs - people who are exiled from their country and forced to live illegally as strangers in another land. I have met the poor- the real poor. I have seen those in need of help. And do you know what one of the hardest things to offer them is? Faith in Christ.

Christianity, a religion that noted philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche pointed out was the ultimate underdog religion has become Goliath. How? It doesn’t matter. Why? The answer isn’t easy. It could have started when the Emperor Constantine made it the official religion of Rome, the first marriage of Christianity and state politics. It could have started when Columbus landed on the shores of the New World and proceeded to usher in an era of ethnic cleansing we euphemistically refer to as colonialism. It could have started when business leaders in the Industrial revolution of America found it easier to offer money to churches and charities than change their factory policies and thereby raise their bottom line. Regardless, the truth is, Christianity, once the major religion for a world in need is now one of the main things the world is running from.

I know, this is a movie blog- but movies are above all else stories. And all it takes a quick look at the box office moneymakers or Oscar winners of the past few years to see how much we love underdogs. We root for the little guy, because we all feel deep down inside that we are that little guy. What more could the underdog need than a relationship with the ultimate underdog?

Christians cannot escape the facts of their religion. Jesus was, by classical definition, a bastard child of a teenager. He was a carpenter by trade who chose twelve of the lowest societal rejects he could find to follow Him and proclaim His message. He hung out with whores and tax collectors (still a reviled profession today), chose to eat dinner with rejects rather than politicians. Jesus was a friend of the destitute who, while claiming to be the most powerful being in the universe chose, voluntarily, to be hung naked (not in a little loin cloth like the church likes to think) upon a wooden beam to asphyxiate to death. He was the ultimate underdog.

But how does the church treat most underdogs today? We ignore them, we judge them, and we dismiss them. We protest funerals of fallen soldiers with signs like “God Hates Fags” when our own scripture blatantly tells us that God loves them. We arrange Quran book burnings while telling stories about how bad it was Germany and Russia did the same things to Christians. What do we do to underdogs today? We bully them.

But you say that’s not me. I’m not like those Christians. True, I would like to think that I am a fundamentally different believer than the lunatics at Westboro Baptist Church (whom based on the fruit of their work I question if they even know Christ at all). Then again every Muslim I’ve met doesn’t believe in terrorism, yet they understand – like it or not – that they will forever be judged by the actions of a small band of men on the morning of September 11^th. We judge them, yet get angry when they judge us. I guess hypocrisy wasn’t limited to the Pharisees.

The world loves underdogs. Are we loving them too? Are we, the offspring of a relationship with histories largest underdog story (Christ), reaching out to the weak, the oppressed, the ostracized, the forgotten, the rejected, and the needy? Or are we weakening, oppressing, ostracizing, ignoring, rejecting or creating needs?

In the end, all boxing movies are the story of the little guy going against the big guy. They are tales of underdogs who shouldn’t win, don’t deserve the title shot, and will most likely get bloodied up and throw in the towel before the end of the third round. Yet somehow, every boxing movie ends the same- with the underdog on top. And we cheer when that happens.

There are underdogs everywhere- the question is, are we, the church of Christ, coaching them and training them to tackle the big bullies in their lives- or, are we the biggest bully of them all?

Rent: 525,600 Seasons of....Tolerance?

One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”
“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

“Well said, teacher,” the man replied. “You are right in saying that God is one and there is no other but him. To love him with all your heart, with all your understanding and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.”

Mark 12: 28-33


One of the worst labels that anyone can have put upon them in America (or most of the West) today is “intolerant.” Whether towards race, gender, or sexual orientation, being labeled intolerant is so detrimental that former President George W. Bush called the worst moment of his Presidency being called a “racist” by rapper Kanye West.

On the surface, tolerance is not a bad idea. Simply put, tolerance is accepting beliefs that you do not agree with or dislike. Sort of a prerequisite for survival in a country (America) that is nearly as divided as it was 150 years ago.

However, tolerance is not a biblical idea. It is not a biblical concept; it is not even a biblical suggestion. Nowhere in scripture does God or His people preach the current American Gospel of tolerance. It is simply not there.

When I was a senior in High School, I was assigned a song from the Broadway musical Rent to perform at my senior vocal recital. At the time Rent was not yet the huge phenom it is now; although it had already won the Tony for best Musical, it was still relatively unknown in my Houston suburb. I had little knowledge of the production, no awareness of the content, but I did like the theme song- Seasons of Love.

I liked the theme song for two reasons- first, the main question presented in the lyrics- (How do we measure a lifetime?) fit in with my own longing to find some sort of purpose and understanding in my own journey, and two, the title reminded me of one of my favorite songs- “Seasons in the Sun” by Terry Jacks.

The song “Seasons in the Sun” was special for one reason- it always reminded me of my Uncle Johnny. I know this is a film blog, but if you allow me to digress, I will connect everything in the end- I promise.

My Uncle Johnny was my mom’s youngest brother and he was the largest character I ever met. His job, if that’s what you could call it, was performing a cross-dressing variety act in which he did spot on impressions of Dolly Parton and Cher. And yes, he was gay.

However to a six year old, this meant absolutely nothing. All I knew is that my favorite Uncle had a “special” friend who had the same name as me. Cool.

But then my mom told me he was going to die.

When I was six years old, AIDS was as real to me as cooties. I heard about it on the news, I guess some kids at school made jokes about it, but it simply didn’t matter. My Uncle was still my Uncle and although he was sick, I still got to laugh and joke and hang out with him. He still gave me Christmas gifts and birthday presents and all of the amazing things good Uncles were supposed to do. He was still my Uncle Johnny and I got to see him all the time.

But all of a sudden he stopped coming around. Like most kids I thought it was my fault, I thought he had gotten mad at me or that I had done something wrong. My mom and grandmother, whom I lived with at the time, would speak about him, but always in hushed tones and in the corners of the house. I did not find out until much later that my grandfather, another man I idolized, had disowned Johnny and told him to never step foot in his house again.

We moved away and I only got to visit with Uncle Johnny through phone calls, but I’ll never forget him. He did pass away eventually, some nine years after first contracting AIDS, and after he had become an activist for gay rights and AIDS awareness. And when he died, I cried. It was the first time someone I had really loved passed away.

At the time of my Uncle’s death I was a much different person. I had become involved in a church youth group and found myself hanging around with a crowd of people who openly expressed disgust at homosexuals. I never really spoke up about it, although I wish now that I did. I would listen to church sermons where preachers spoke about how God punished Sodom and Gomorrah for their evil ways and that allowing gays to be in the military or marry would condemn a modern America to fire and brimstone and damnation.

I was confused. I loved my Uncle and the memories of the time we spent together. But I was being told that he was an awful sinner and that he was wicked.

Fortunately for me, God would bring me some clarity- in the form of a 5’7” blond.

I remember the first time I went to visit Jaime at her house, I noticed a large Rent poster behind her bed. I made some passing comment about how I sang a song from that musical in High School and that I had heard it was a good show but I had never seen it. She went on to tell me all about the musical- how it changed her life, how she loved every minute of it, and how the message and the music was something that she thought everyone should hear and experience.

Unfortunately we didn’t have the money to travel to New York to see the show and it wasn’t coming to Houston for a couple more years. Fortunately Hollywood, as it does with all fads, had already started pre-production on a movie version and I would only have to wait for that to release.

We saw the movie on Thanksgiving Day (when it released) at a movie theater in Humble on the way back from spending the holiday with my mom and dad. In fact, I was so excited to see it that I forewent my annual holiday tradition of cheering for whatever team was playing against the Dallas Cowboys.

Let me be clear- I have seen the musical live now, and the movie does not compare (then again, they never do). But I was still moved by the message of the movie-which, it struck me, was an oddly Biblical one.

The musical and movie are based on Puccini’s famous opera, La Boheme. Like La Boheme, Rent follows a group of struggling artists trying to survive and breakthrough in the commercial epicenter of their time (La Boheme is set in 19th century Paris, Rent in 90’s New York). And the characters in both the opera and the musical are suffering from a deadly disease- tuberculosis in La Boheme and AIDS in Rent.

The message of Rent, it will surprise you to know- considering the content of the show (Transvestites, the gay community, the starving liberal artists) is not one of tolerance. The message, as evidenced by their theme song is love.

Let’s face it. Despite the fact that Christ’s primary message to us as Christians is to love God and to love others, we’ve done a pretty terrible job of both. The message of tolerance that America preaches is a compromise- everyone wants to be loved, but since we suck at doing that, they’ll settle for being tolerated.

Why? Because tolerance is fairly easy. We look away or ignore, or think quietly to ourselves. We smile and nod when we meet an outcast, and usually give some polite comment. We tolerate because it’s easy. We don’t love because to sincerely care for someone that we don’t agree with is difficult. But it is exactly what Jesus did when He loved us.

Let me be clear- I am not a tolerant person- I believe in the Bible. I believe the Bible is clear on issues of homosexuality and premarital sex. I believe the Bible is clear on drunkenness and not paying your taxes. And I believe the Bible is clear on obesity and gluttony too- although it’s funny that you don’t hear many messages from the church pulpit about those.

I also believe that my job is not to judge those who live in those lifestyles. My job is to show them God loves them (and me) in spite of our flaws. My job is to be God’s representation of love and hope on earth. My job is not to change them. My job is to love. God will handle the rest.

It strikes me that Christ would be appalled at the church today- we look nothing like His ragtag band of outcasts. I had a college professor once say that the smartest thing that Satan ever did was convince Constantine to make Christianity the mainstream religion of ancient Rome. How much more loving would Christians be to outcasts, (by outcasts I mean gays, other races, the homeless, the poor, those that vote opposite of us, Muslims, Buddhists, etc.) if we knew what it was like to be one?

One of the things I enjoy most about living in a Muslim country is that it is not easy to be Christian here. I work with colleagues who openly criticize my choice of religion. I live in a culture that flat out rejects my foundational beliefs and makes it hard to practice them (if you are a Christian and are reading this, please pray for our Pastor- the country does not want to grant him a work permit). I am judged every time I mention that I am going to church. There are times when I feel as though it would be easier to love God in “the closet.”

And yet like the outcasts of America I refuse to be silent. Just like the characters in Rent, I want to be loved. I don’t want to be tolerated like a parent tolerates a child, all the while thinking that they will one day “wise up” and learn. I want to be loved. And God demands that we live our lives loving others in just that way.

Ultimately, I realized that it was okay to love my Uncle Johnny- God did.

Let me be quick to clarify that tolerance is not biblical because tolerance is rooted in the idea that we “put up with” or “look away” from the mistakes in others. God does not operate that way. He looks at us, knowing completely what we have done wrong, will do wrong, and even what we think about doing wrong, and He chooses to love us anyway. That’s what love is- looking at someone for who they are and caring for them anyway.

So the next time you read an article about another gay teen who has committed suicide in the US because they feel like an outcast, ask yourself this: Have we failed to love another person that God loves? Have we failed to make a creation of God feel valued? Have we failed to live out our calling?

Have we failed God because we failed to love?

At the end of Rent every character has changed- and they have been changed by the love of one character- Angel. That is the power that love has. That is the power that one truly loving person can have on those around them. And that power is what Christ so desperately wants to use in us.

Lost Sons in Legends of the Fall

First off, let me apologize blog followers- things have been chaotic this past month. I spent a week in Korea and another week camping with Middle School students on beautiful Tioman Island in Malaysia. Needless to say, things have not been quiet around the casa de Thomas, and my blog has been neglected. I plan to remedy that now.

I have a man-crush on Brad Pitt. There, I admitted it. My wife knows, my close friends know, and now you, my faithful readers know. It’s an odd thing to admit at the beginning of a faith-centered blog, but I just had to be honest.

If Seinfeld’s man-crush on Keith Hernandez started from watching Mets games, then my man-crush with Pitt began by watching Legends of the Fall. Even years later, when people ask me what my favorite movie is, Legends immediately comes to mind (along with Tombstone, but I’ll have to do a blog on that one later.)

What is it about that movie that I love so much? For starters, the Montana scenery- after that, it’s a toss up between Pitt’s performance, Anthony Hopkins as the father, or the epic scale of the film. Covering the Ludlow family in rural Montana from World War One through the height of Prohibition, the movie captures a fascinating piece of American history. But for me, the movie has always struck a much deeper chord. It is without a doubt the most visual representation of the parable of the lost son that I have ever seen.

The parable of the lost son- more commonly known as the Prodigal son, is one of the most popular and controversial Biblical stories in the entire New Testament. Not only is it a great story of God’s grace, but it is a slap in the face to religious institutions and the cause for the biggest conflict between Islam and Christianity. While some have fought about the meaning or the symbolism, I’ve always wondered- who is the story all about?

Perhaps the answer is in Legends of the Fall.

I’ve seen the movie hundreds of time (about as many times as I’ve heard the parable), and I always thought the movie was about Tristan’s (Brad Pitt) character. But as an English teacher, that doesn’t make any sense.

Literature, or at least good literature, is based on the idea that the protagonist (i.e. the main character) will grow and change over the course of the narrative. (Note- there are a few minor exceptions- namely Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye, but this is not a discourse about the literary contributions of JD Salinger.) The idea of a narrative story is that the events of the story should change the character’s personality. This is why movie critics often complain about one-dimensional characters.

That’s what makes Legends of the Fall so interesting. It has always been seen as Brad Pitt’s movie (it was his first major Hollywood success), but his character- Tristan- doesn’t change at all in the movie. He is what we call a static character in literature.

So if it’s not Tristan’s film, then whose is it? Moreover, if the Prodigal son was not told to highlight the youngest son's sin and repentance, then why was it told?

In Legends of the Fall, it’s simple. The only character that does grow in the course of the story is the eldest brother- Alfred, played by Aiden Quinn. And if we look at his character closely, we just might see who was the primary goal of Jesus’ parable as well.

Alfred is the perfect son. He works hard, stays home to take care of his father, and even becomes a US Senator. There’s just one problem- he doesn’t feel loved. In fact, he comes to hate his brother because of unfounded jealousy.

Sound like anyone in the parable of the lost son?

But I know what you’re thinking- if the story of the Prodigal son is not about, well, the Prodigal Son, then what’s the point? And, why has everyone always focused on the younger son?

Let me be clear- I am not saying that the very moving story of the younger son returning from his self-imposed exile and receiving God’s grace is not important. In fact, it is one of the hopeful passages in the bible- especially for non-Christians.

However, Christians should note that the younger son does not represent them anymore. We are the older brother in the story.

Look at the context of the story- first of all, the parable of the lost son is actually the third part of trilogy of stories told to answer a question the Pharisees asked of Jesus (i.e. why does he hang around with sinners?) And in order to understand the end of a trilogy, you have to have understood parts one and two. Would Return of the Jedi make any since without the first two Star Wars films?

The first story in the trilogy is the story of the lost coin- Jesus tells the Pharisees that if someone had 100 talents (gold coins) and they lost one, they would go look for it. Duh. The second story is the story of the lost sheep, in which Jesus tells the story of a shepherd who has 100 sheep and loses one. So, he goes to find it. Again, duh.

But then Jesus ups the ante.

Instead of the father losing something, his son leaves him. And instead of 100 sons, he only has 2. If the Pharisees understood looking for 1% of the coins and the sheep, they would surely understand looking for 50% of the children, right?

No. Just like Alfred in Legends of the Fall they could not fathom a “Father” who could forgive and love the younger son. And considering that the Pharisees were Jesus’ audience (they did ask him the question), I think pointing out the Pharisees selfishness and jealousy is the purpose of the story. Perhaps the “lost” son in the story was not the one who ran away, but the one who stayed at home.

In Legends of the Fall, Alfred comes through in the end. He saves Tristan’s life from the very problems that his jealousy created. Unfortunately the story of the lost son ends before we have time to see if the older brother repented and welcomed back the prodigal. We will never know if he did the right thing? Would I?

As much as I hate to admit it, I am just like the Pharisees. I constantly judge and question God’s decision to love others in addition to me. In fact just this week, I spent four days being bitterly jealous of God blessing another couple with pregnancy. I was exactly like the eldest brother in the story of the lost son- instead of being happy that my Father chose to bless others, I was angry that I didn’t receive the blessing I felt I had earned.

God’s love is a mystery. We cannot control that. The only thing we can control is our reaction.

There are two sinful ways to react to God’s love. The first, which I will call the Tristan syndrome, is to fail to believe that God loves you. The youngest son knows his father loves him, but he doesn’t believe it. There is a difference between belief and knowledge. I know I should eat healthier, but I don’t really believe that an occasional McDonalds is bad for me.

The Tristan syndrome tends to affect Christians who come to Christ later in their life. Like the youngest brother in the story of the lost son, they come to God with the expectation that all they deserve from Him is to be one of His servants. These people tend to be obsessive perfections and incredibly self critical, both in an attempt to make up for their past wrongs and to somehow prove to themselves and others that they are worthy of God’s love. In Legends of the Fall, the character Tristan travels the entire world, fighting, killing, searching for some sort of worth in his life- wanting to prove to himself and everyone else what his capable of. He doesn’t understand that his father’s “grace” (that is underserved favor) is enough.

The Alfred syndrome is much harder to detect. These Christians, like myself and the oldest brother in the story of the lost son, have often grown up in the church or been around Christianity their entire lives. These are the people who take God’s love for granted- using it like an ATM machine to get what they want. These Christians sit in churches and glare at the Tristans, who come in with their tattoos and immodest clothing, wanting to change the music and do away with “Sunday School.” These Christians are modern day Pharisees.

Every time I read back through the Bible, I realize that Christ never criticized or condemned a prostitute. He never yelled at a homosexual. He never turned his nose up at a drunkard. The only people He criticized were the Alfreds. He criticized those of us who thought we and we alone deserve His love. He criticized the church officials- the “eldest” brothers- who did not welcome the Tristans home, but instead cried in jealousy that they got a fatted calf (or money, or babies, or the promotion, or insert anything you want here) when we didn’t even get a goat to party with our friends.

I suppose that no matter how many times I watch Legends of the Fall, I will always wish that I were more Tristan than Alfred. But that’s the joy of movies- we can escape into a character that is different than us. The reality is this- God’s love, just like the pride and favor of Colonel Ludlow in the movie, is always there. Tristan had to accept it, and Alfred had to accept that it was not his alone to hoard. The same is true of us- we must acknowledge that at one point of time, we all were Tristans, far away from God and welcomed back as His children. We must too accept that far too often we become Alfreds, jealous older brothers who forget that while God may now be showering favor on our sibling, we have had His love the entire time.

Robin Hood Religion

Jesus was tough on rich people. Really tough. Remember when he told the one rich guy to sell everything and give it to the poor? What about his treatment of the Pharisees? They were rich, and it’s fairly safe to say that with the exception of a few (like one or two) He wasn’t a fan of them.

It’s not that rich people are bad- Joseph of Arimathea was rich- and he provided a tomb for Jesus to borrow for a couple of nights. It’s just that rich people- okay I’m generalizing here- most rich people want to stay rich. It’s a common desire- and not inherently bad. I just wonder if it’s inherently biblical.

Let me clarify. I am not saying that God doesn’t want people to be rich. I don’t know if He does or not – the word “blessing” can mean a lot of things.

I am saying that God will judge the rich on how they treat the poor.

It’s odd to me that one of the most popular characters in Hollywood movies is Robin Hood- considering that if Robin Hood did in fact exist today, he would spend a good amount of his time riding up and down Pacific Coast Highway stealing Bentleys and Mercedes from overpaid actors. But ever since Errol Flynn donned the infamous green tights, filmmakers have been cranking out Robin Hood movies nearly every decade.

And I’m not complaining. I love Robin Hood. In fact, my favorite Disney movie is the animated Robin Hood, and I have watched Kevin Costner’s Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves at least 100 times- both because I enjoy it and because for years it was the only VHS that I had as a kid. And I am equally as excited about the new Robin Hood movie coming out this spring, starring none other than Maximus himself, Russell Crowe in his first reteaming with Gladiator Director Ridley Scott. (Truth be told, I even love the current BBC TV show Robin Hood- even if I don’t get to watch it very often).

But I am somewhat shocked at how much audiences love Robin Hood movies. It’s as if Americans love watching Robin Hood steal from the rich and give to the poor, because- let’s face it, most Americans think he would be robbing from others and giving to them. But would he?

What about the church? Are we faring any better?

Christianity is a religion based on helping the poor. One of my favorite (and most challenging) passages in scripture is the parable of the sheep and the goats in Mathew 25.

"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

"Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.'

"They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?'

"He will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.'

"Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life."

I apologize for posting the entire passage, but it bears reading- repeatedly. Sounds very Robin Hood doesn’t it? Jesus says that we will be judged on how we treat the “least” of His people? Well church, how are we doing?

Oh, I know what you’ll say. Our church has a mission program- we give money every year to food banks- last year we even held a church wide clothing drive for a woman’s shelter. Good- but is it enough? Money is easy. Stuff is easy. But what’s so amazing about Robin Hood, why he interests me and thousands others, is not that he gave money to the poor. What amazes me about Robin Hood is that he gave his time to the poor. He gave his safety to the poor- he lived among the poor; he embraced the poor and made them his own.

What bothers me the most about Christianity, and one of the things I am the most embarrassed of (yes- there are times I am embarrassed to call myself a Christian- but never because of Christ) is that the world’s largest humanitarian organization isn’t Christian. In fact, in a web list of the top 25 NGO’s (Non-Governmental Organizations) in the world, only 4 are faith based? Is that taking care of the “least” of these?

But we have pastors in million dollar houses, a cottage Christian music industry full of wealthy artists (and producers), and an American church that refuses to face the fact that the cost of the Bible they are carrying and the clothes they are wearing is more money than most of the world has in their bank accounts.

We have to ask- if there was a real life “Robin Hood” would he give to us (as most of us think) or rob from us?

The problem is, we all know someone who is richer than us- and we think they’re the ones that Robin Hood would steal from. We’re wrong. The Robin Hood of the movies stole from all the rich- not just the “really rich.”

I understand that we don’t think ourselves rich. In fact, there have been plenty of times I have actually thought I was poor. And maybe at one point in my life- I was poor- by American standards. But I’ve seen poor. I’ve walked through towns in Cambodia so war torn that 3 and 4 year old children run barefoot and naked because they have nothing. I’ve seen villages that walk two miles to get fresh drinking water. I’ve seen poor, and I don’t know anyone in my life that is anywhere close to that.

Are there organizations that help? Sure- there are amazing Christian organizations that reach out to the world- organizations that will undoubtedly hear God proclaim His happiness at their work. (Living Water International is a personal favorite). And they deserve our financial support. We shouldn’t just focus on the world either. America has homeless- feed them. We have abandoned, shelter them. We have immigrants- help them.

Again, let me qualify my opinion. I have things. I am blessed. I want to make money. But I hope that when I die, my ambition does not outweigh my service. I hope that God looks at me and says, “Thanks for feeding the poor” and not just throwing a dollar in the plate and pretending like that’s enough. I hope God looks at me at says “Thanks for helping the nations” and not just by joining a Facebook group, but by getting my hands dirty digging a well in Uganda. I hope that God looks at me and says- “Thanks for being a Robin Hood,” for robbing myself – the rich one – and giving my time, energy, and passion to the poor.

The Gospel According to Bruce Lee

I grew up loving martial arts movies. Blame it on my father- I vividly remember being 6 years old and watching Jean Claude Van Damme’s Bloodsport with him. Don’t worry, he covered my eyes through all the bad stuff. But either way, a passion for bad dialogue, canned story lines, one dimensional villians and slow motion action sequences was born.

To say that I got my passion for action movies from my father is an understatement. There was no genre my father watched more than action movies- and his star of choice- Chuck Norris. My dad loved Chuck Norris movies before the whole “Chuck Norris can defeat Godzilla” Saturday Night Live craze. He raised me on Lone Wolf McQuaid and Delta Force; I can still vividly remember Chuck Norris driving through a shopping mall in a jacked up truck shooting bad guys with an Uzi in Invasion USA. To me, no one was bigger than Chuck Norris- not Rocky, not Rambo, not Van Damme or Segal, not even the guy from American Ninja.

There was no one who could defeat Chuck Norris. Except for the one guy who did.

In my quest to consume as much Chuck Norris as possible, I discovered a little film called The Way of the Dragon. In it, a shorter, smaller Chinese guy destroyed my 7 time international Karate champ – in the Roman Coliseum no less. And I’ve been hooked on Bruce Lee ever since.

Bruce Lee started the martial arts film craze in America. Enter the Dragon, Lee’s last complete film, is one of the most important movies of the 20^th century. I remember going to a friend’s house and watching it on VHS, and from the opening credits, I was hooked. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe I could pull off all of Bruce Lee’s stunts, but I was stupid enough to try. I grew up in the age of Power Rangers and Steven Segal films, so to see a movie so raw and pure, and believable was amazing.

Enter the Dragon is a piece of motion picture magic. The first martial arts film financed by a major Hollywood Studio, it introduced the west to an entirely new way of thinking. In some ways, you could argue that Lee’s movie created the Western world’s fascination of Eastern thought. It was the first major vehicle that anyone had ever heard words like Shaolin or Buddhism- two words that Hollywood has been in love with ever since.

But what does Bruce Lee and Enter the Dragon have to do with Christianity? What does my fascination for martial arts and action movies have to do with my faith?

One of the most troubling commands of Christ for me has always been the “turn the other cheek” statement in Mathew. For a traditional American male this is nearly sacrilege. The entire Cold War was built around the idea that if your opponent strikes you, hit him with the biggest bomb your have. If they should bomb you back, build a bigger bomb. So for me to accept the idea of turning the other cheek to anyone was un-American.

That’s where my love of action movies came in. Van Damme never turned the other cheek. And Chuck Norris? If you managed to hit him in his cheek, he would rip off your hand, put a grenade in it, and shove it down your throat. For years, I had a hard time looking up to Jesus because I thought him a coward. Compared to my heroes of the films, Jesus was kind of a wimp.

And that’s the problem with the American church. As John Eldridge points out in his wonderful book, Wild at Heart, we (the church) have sissified Jesus. Which is why so many men have such a hard time accepting the term “godly” man. In everything we’re taught about masculinity in our culture, Jesus is not manly.

But what if we had a different view of Jesus? What if we could view Jesus as someone who didn’t advocate fighting but did advocate standing up for yourself? Does the Bible not command us to always be ready to “give a defense” for our faith (1 Peter 3:15)? Does Jesus himself not command us to be as meek as doves but as wise as serpents (Matthew 10:16)?

What if we were to really look at the verse in question? But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. Matthew 5:39. The bible doesn’t say, if an enemy strikes you, turn around and run away. The bible only tells us to “turn the other cheek.” That implies that you willingly get up from the blow and stand face to face with your assailant. To me, that’s pretty manly.

Which is why I love Enter the Dragon so much. In it, the main character Lee is a holy man, who trains his body, not because he wants to fight, but for the sake of staying physically and mentally fit. He does not seek out conflict, but instead only agrees to fight in order to avenge the death of his sister (family) and to restore honor to his temple (religion).

In some ways, as a child, I connected more with Lee (the character in the movie) than with Jesus. No child ever imitates Christ in their backyard. But every 10-year-old boy who watches any clip from any good martial arts film will begin jumping around making noises as their punches fly the air at imaginary targets. So what is the church to do?

For starters, they could portray Jesus in the proper light. They could stop emasculating Christ and start showing Him for who He is- a warrior for what is right. Jesus may not have physically assulated anyone- unless of course you count his rage filled attack at the temple priests and salesmen- but He did not back down from His persecutors either. He answered them with strength and courage, without arrogance and pride.

Am I suggesting that Jesus should have jump kicked Pilate if He had been given the chance? No. But I am saying that we have to understand that the same appeal that Lee’s character in Enter the Dragon has for countless of teenage boys (and grown men) is the same appeal that the proper image of Christ could create. In Lee’s case, he’s defending his family and his faith. In Christ’s case, His entry into our world is His fight for his family (us) and His faith (His Father). In Lee’s case, he must fight against a former protégé of his temple master. In Christ’s case, He fights against His master’s former protégé as well. In Lee’s case, he endures physical pain but wins in the end. In Christ’s case…well, we all know how that one ends.

The Na'Vi and the Celts

You can’t turn on the TV or go online today and not see the computer generated faces of the Na’Vi. Avatar is everywhere – it is a cultural phenomenon. Everyone is talking about it- good, bad, or indifferent, people who had never previously heard the computer game term “avatar” one month ago are now well versed with the story of Marine Jake Sully and his adventures on the intentionally symbolic land of Pandora.

For starters, let me say that I loved the film. It has its flaws as a movie, and is merely a 3-D retelling of the Disney film Pocahantas, but it is a beautiful movie with a clear message.

But what should we do about that message?

If you do an Internet search on “Avatar and Christianity” (later, not while you’re reading this blog), you’ll notice uproar in the Christian community of the idea of pantheism (the worship of nature) present in this film. There appears to be such disgust at the ideas promoted in the movie that even the Vatican has spoken out in condemnation of the film.

Make no mistake about it; Avatar is promoting a religion - a false religion. So what?

Are we really afraid that after watching this film, that thousands of Christians are going to jump ship with Jesus and begin worshiping Ewya, the “all-mother” god of the fictional Na’Vi people? Likewise are we surprised that an ungodly world (I am speaking about our world now) would promote such an idea?

False religion should be discussed in our churches, and all believers should know the truth. But why are we so quick to seclude ourselves in an “us versus the world” camp in regards to theology?

My problem isn’t with Christians choosing to boycott the film, although I do think it a bit foolish. My problem is with Christians ignoring the unique opportunity to share their faith that this movie presents.

Here’s what I mean to say- why is that we condemn practitioners of nature worship, the basic tenant of the New Age mysticism so common in our world, rather than acknowledge their need and show them the real God of creation?

Here’s what I saw when I watched Avatar: a disheartened American soldier who gets fed up with the dream of “more” and turns to a god he meets in nature.

I can work with that.

But how? Is there a way to meet the pagans, like the Na’vi and James Cameron (the film’s director), and show them our God using their tools and their beliefs?

Perhaps the answer can be found in a three-leaf clover.

Like the Na’Vi, the ancient Celts were Mother Earth worshippers. They believed in a pagan god and worshipped their god through various rituals and practices. By all accounts, they were the sorts of people that Hollywood would love to make a movie about.

But unlike the church today, the Ancient Church (coincidentally the same Catholic church that is speaking out against Avatar) responded differently. They did not condemn or ignore, they responded with Saint Patrick.

Patrick’s story is particularly insightful in how we (as Christians) should approach the views presented in Avatar. His story is helpful if we are to understand how best to relate and minister to a world that believes in a false religion.

So what did Patrick do? He organized the biggest and most successful missionary campaign outside of the New Testament. He so effectively planted Christ in a pagan culture that he is now celebrated in an international holiday. Not even the Apostle Paul has a holiday.

But the key to understanding Patrick is not in the results of his missionary journey, but in his techniques. Unlike modern evangelicals, that lambast and criticize the popular religion of our time, Patrick used the native religion to point to Christ. He chose religious symbols of the Celts and adapted them to Christianity. The shamrock became a symbol, not of the earth god, but of the Trinity. Unlike other ancient missionaries, Patrick did not ride into a colony with a legion of soldiers and build a church on native soil. He met in tents, travelled with tribes, and found a connection between what they believed and the God he served.

And Patrick was not the first to do this. In Acts 17, upon his visit to Athens, Paul used Athenian pagan statues to advocate Christ. He studied the native religion, and when pressed, responded to their questions about his faith by using what he had learned about their beliefs. "Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you.” (Acts 17:22-23)

Paul and Patrick provide a model for us on how we should deal with the religion and philosophy in Avatar. They recognized that in most every false god exists the ability, either through comparison or contrast, to show the true God.

If we (Christians) are to make any difference in our world, we must stop condemning non-believers for their earth worship or New Age philosophy and start recognizing that what they see in nature is our God. Yes, they worship the creation and not the Creator, but how can we criticize them if we refuse to show them the Artist behind the art?

The Na’Vi aliens in Avatar are on the right path. Yes their worship is misguided, but they see what we see- the thumbprint of a beautiful and loving God on all of his creation. Is Avatar just a movie? Yes, but it reflects the longings and feelings of so many in our world. It reflects a longing for beauty and truth, a beauty and truth they see in the creation around them.

The church needs to find new three-leaf clover. Perhaps Avatar is a start.