A Review of "42" - American Legend... Christian Example

I don't tend to go to movie theaters very often anymore. It seems overpriced to spend $12 to watch something I'll just wind up seeing either on DVD or Netflix in a few short months. Unless it's a movie I've just really been wanting to see, odds are - I won't be at the theater. But this Sunday, I was invited to go along with two friends to see the movie "42," the story of Jackie Robinson, America's first African-American to play baseball in the major leagues.

Initially, I admit... I had no overwhelming desire to see the movie, simply because, well, I've never been a fan of baseball, so I didn't figure it would interest me that much.

I was wrong. Turns out, baseball can be far more interesting when it's in movie form and they cut out all the boring stuff... like... most of the game.

But baseball is not what made this movie worth watching. The back story alone between Brooklyn Dodger's owner Branch Rickey and Jackie Robinson is well worth the $10 + drink. If nothing else, I learned via this movie that God is a Methodist.

Now, I say that somewhat in jest in response to one of the lines Harrison Ford delivers as Branch Rickey - "He's a Methodist. I'm a Methodist. God's a Methodist."

It wouldn't be the first time a particular denomination has wanted to claim God as their own particular form of Christianity. That said - to be honest, I think maybe Mr. Rickey wasn't too far off base. In many ways, in that time and place, I think God definitely was very much at work within the Methodist Church and the role it played in our society.

During the 1940's, few Christian organizations were as instrumental in the fight against segregation and racial inequality in the United States than the Methodist Church. Sadly, my own denomination does not have such a history - to this day remaining 98% white despite recent attempts at "multicultural outreach." Afraid we jumped on that bandwagon a little too late, trying to cling to our northern European heritage and traditions a little too fiercely while simultaneously trying to manufacture worship that would be appealing to non-Europeans. It's failed rather miserably.

But the Methodists, from their inception, have been forerunners when it comes to "social justice." Surpassed only by the Baptists, they were among the first to welcome and embrace African-Americans during the post-Civil War era. So kudos to the Methodists for being Christ to all people during a time when many "Christians" had lost their focus. While I have a variety of reasons I've opted not to become a Methodist, I freely and openly admit - they had this part right.

Back to the movie itself, I think the part that struck me as the most powerful element to this story was the emphasis on being "Christ-like." Rickey's first conversation with Jackie Robinson was about how Rickey didn't want a player who didn't have the strength fight back, but wanted a player who had the strength NOT to fight back.

Jackie needed to be "Christ-like" if he was going to ever make it as a black player in an all-white league. The strength to keep his mouth shut, no matter what horrible things people were shouting at him. To let how he played baseball speak for him rather than the color of his skin or anything he said. To carry his own cross in silence. To turn the other cheek and just keep on going. To know about the multitude of death threats that are being sent your way simply because of the color of your skin - and say nothing in response.

Amazingly - that's exactly what he does. If ever there was a reason to admire Jackie Robinson, this is it. Even if he had been a horrendous baseball player, the strength of character alone is enough to hold him up as a role model for all people. Especially those who wear the Christian label.

Because believe me, there are times in that movie, where you, as the movie-goer, WANT him to just haul off and pop some of these people in the mouth. In particular, when the Phillies manager, Ben Chapman, goes on a racially charged name-calling tirade from the dug-out. I was ready to slug him just to shut him up. I won't give the entire scene away, but to watch the depth of Robinson's struggle from the perspective of not a black or a white individual, but simply another human being who is being degraded and berated is both difficult and mesmerizing to watch. Likewise Branch Rickey's commitment not just to Robinson, but to continue insisting that the only way to fight back is to play ball and not to meet the enemy "on his own low ground" is beyond inspiring. It is also at this moment - the pinnacle of Robinson's struggle - that the Brooklyn Dodgers finally unite and solidify themselves as a team, accepting, if not totally embracing, their African-American teammate.

Now I don't know how much of the religious element that gets played up is historically accurate or not in regards to Branch Rickey's Christian outlook on the entire situation, but I found it to be not just an inspiring movie about one man breaking the color barrier, but a deep and rich story of faith. At its core - it's a movie that asks the question: How do you overcome hatred? How do you overcome segregation? How do you overcome injustice and cruelty? How do you overcome ignorance and stupidity?

It's not through an eye for an eye, it's not tit-for-tat. It's not through yelling and screaming to try and get your point across, it's not through bombs, guns, tanks, or anything other form of violence. The way of the cross, the way of Christ is to triumph by faithful suffering in the face of hatred and all that it brings with it. Because hatred and violence are not the way in which God triumphs over evil. He triumphs through self-sacrificial love.

You overcome... by being Christ-like. The story of Jackie Robinson in my view is a timely movie. We continue to live in a world filled with prejudice and hatred. A world filled with violence where our response continues to be simply more violence. The focus of our hatred and bigotry may shift, the people we argue and fight against may not be the same as they were sixty or seventy years ago. But the struggle is the same at its core.

How do Christians respond in the face of such problems? I think we have something, as Christians, to learn from the examples of Jackie Robinson and Branch Rickey. Neither men were "doormats" who just allowed people to walk over them. They simply had the wisdom and the faith to recognize there are other ways to "fight" and overcome adversity.

They chose the way of Christ, and at least one little corner of the world was changed forever.

How We Experience God's Word

My husband sent me an email message one day telling me not to text him (it was my day off and I was particularly frustrated about something at home). What I heard and interpreted was, "I don't want to hear from you." What he was actually saying was, "I'm going to be in meetings and my phone buzzing from text messages can be distracting."

What is said and what we hear or interpret can sometimes be way off base. It creates a lot of misunderstandings.

Oddly enough, we sometimes run into this problem when we read scripture as well. We can all read or hear exactly the same thing - and interpret it very differently. We can even have the same experience - and still come to a different conclusion of what that experience meant or how to respond to it.

During my years at seminary, I had it beaten into my brain that "experiential faith" was problematic, because experiences could vary and experience always needed to be held up and tested against the truth of scripture. Because experience... can be flawed. Experienced reality can be highly ambiguous and obscure God's intentions for our lives and our world. Our experience may not reflect what God desires for us. For instance - if I am a starving child in the midst of a refugee camp, having witnessed my family's execution and having been  tortured or raped - my experience does not reflect what God's desire for human relationship actually is. But my perception and view of God can definitely be shaped - and skewed - by this experience.

So as a general rule of thumb, this is true and a good practice. People can go a lot of bizarre places based solely on their experience without the proper balance of scripture to temper and guide the interpretation and understanding of the experience.

That said, there is one ultimate problem with dismissing the reality regarding the experiential nature of faith too out of hand. While one should always be a little careful of getting too caught up in our experiences, we cannot negate its impact and importance. The main reason... is scripture itself.

Scripture is, at its core, the recordings of people's "experiences" with the divine. How they encountered God and their interpretation of that encounter - what it meant and why it was important. Their writings reflect the world they lived in, the problems they faced, the arguments they were engaging, and to a degree, their own individual "style." God inspired them to write what they wrote - therefore it is still His Word - and yet it is also a work of humanity. This is why the Bible can sometimes be difficult to read. While it tells a continuous story of God and his relationship with humanity, when different people write, they use different styles and methods to get their message across. It's like trying to read a novel that sixty or so different people wrote all smashed together - some writing narratives, some writing poems, others writing letters - and many times even in different languages - all trying to move the story along... their voices and thoughts all unique to who they were, what they were going through, and what they were trying achieve by their writings. All had slightly different perspectives. We typically would view such a work as disjointed and difficult to read. In and of itself, this compilation of writings that brings together the larger story of God and is able to inspire faith and belief in millions throughout the world is miraculous if you really think about it.

This is precisely why we refer to it as the "living" word of God. Despite the thousands of years, despite the multitude of writers, despite all the language shifts, it still speaks into our lives. Throughout the eons, whatever circumstance people are in, God's word - even when it's the same the word that was spoken 2000-3000 years earlier - still evokes a response.

Now, where it gets tricky is that this word is typically heard very differently by people depending on their circumstance, time, place, and - yes - experience. But it is living because it continues to move people and create faith in them, just sometimes in different ways.

For instance, Jeremiah's experience of God's word in the midst of Judah's destruction by the Babylonians was very different than David's experience of God as he forged a united kingdom. Jeremiah was moved to write the book of Lamentations as a result of his experience - a book crying out to God, expressing his angst and sorrow over what had become of his people. David was moved to write many of the Psalms, poems and songs of praise that lifted up all that God was doing. We sing many of the Psalms of David in our worship services. We don't tend to sing the lamentations of Jeremiah. And yet - both were faithful servants of God called to serve in the midst of their circumstances. Both are a part of the "experience" of God.

I was recently reading an article from an author of the Pentecostal tradition who shared her life's struggles and faith journey. Now, I'm not a Pentecostal for a variety of personal reasons that I don't think need to be discussed here. It's sufficient to simply say I am drawn more toward the Lutheran faith tradition. But her story was inspiring - and deeply moving.

Additionally, as I read her story, heard her experience of God speaking into her life, I found myself going, "That is, almost verbatim, the same words God used with me when He spoke into my life at a very pivotal time." I felt the exact same "knowing" and understanding that it was not a hallucination. It was real and breathed new life into me. It helped me view scripture and God's message in a whole new light. During my time at seminary, I heard many other similar stories - God's voice breaking in wherever we were at and moving us all in new directions. It's something that connected all of us, and what connects me to this writer as well.

However, as I read her story, it begged the question - how can two people have almost the exact same experience, and still not totally agree on everything when it comes to matters of faith? (And as a caveat - I have not spent enough time talking with or getting to know the intricacies of this author's religious viewpoints - what we agree on or disagree on specifically. She self-identifies as Pentecostal, I identify as Lutheran. I'm working off the overarching different understandings and practices that tend to be inherent between Pentecostals and Lutherans as a whole, not this particular person's specific viewpoints which I truthfully don't know all that well and am not attempting to criticize in any way.)

This almost identical experience inspired faith in her where there had previously been none, while it solidified my already existing faith and set me down the path I am currently on. She heard these words coming out of an abusive childhood and subsequent suicide attempt. I heard these words after a fairly "normal" and loving upbringing, though was going through some turmoil for different reasons. As a result, she found herself for reasons that are her own drawn to the Pentecostal movement. I found myself drawn to the Lutheran tradition, in particular its emphasis of grace and forgiveness. Yet the words spoken to us were the same, and had in many ways the same effect - yet also set us down paths that were somewhat divergent. Despite being drawn to different traditions, God's word breaking in on our lives shared the same ultimate goal - to put us both to work in the building of God's Kingdom.

Is this not the same situation we have when we read scripture in general? We all read and hear the same Word of God - but we interpret and respond to that word very differently depending on our background, our understanding, and our life experiences. Let me illustrate further... saying "You're beautiful" to someone will sound different depending on whether you're a model earning thousands of dollars a day because of your looks, versus a several hundred pound sixteen year old who is made fun of and bullied every day at school because of how she looks. The former will have an easier time believing what she hears and will react a certain way. Society upholds and validates those words for her. The latter by contrast may have difficulty believing those words as they are completely contrary to everything she has experienced among her peers and society. And yet, in the way that matters to God, that overweight sixteen year old typically possess a deeper beauty than can be seen on the outside. (I am speaking in generalities - not trying to say every model has a wonderful self-image or that every overweight teen has a poor self-image - it's simply an analogy to make a point). But they hear - and react - very differently to these same words breaking into their lives - either affirming what they already think, or contradicting what they have been led to believe about themselves.

God's word does the same thing. It can affirm what we already know and believe. Or, it can contradict what we see and hear on a regular basis. It can comfort, or it can cause fear. It can resolve some doubts, or raise more questions.

This does not mean there's something wrong with God's Word. It means how we ALL hear God's word is potentially flawed and definitely not always the same. Our experience alters our perception and understanding. We have a "filter" problem between our eyes/ears and our brain. Like what I interpreted and read into my husband's request to not text him.

It's not a new problem - we see this problem being played out among the early Christian communities and apostles as well. Peter and Paul didn't always see eye to eye or share the same ministry methods. Paul was attacked and found himself having to defend his ministry to the Corinthian congregation. Misunderstandings and hurt feelings abounded even then. Our brokenness continues to be a source of strife even in matters of how we practice and understand our faith in the one who reconciles us back to Himself.

It is easy for us to spout scripture in order to make an argument regarding a particular conviction we might have - to condemn others for not being like we are or believing exactly the way we believe. We all do it. I know I'm guilty. As Christians, we all find ourselves drawn to different parts of scripture because they have more meaning to us in our lives because of our current or past circumstances. We cling to and uphold more vigilantly those parts that speak to us and affiliate with those denominations or non-denominations that fall more into line with how we understand God's Word.

Thus we cannot escape or deny how our experience shapes our understanding. This is why I believe we fight so much among the different branches of Christianity. Every Christian has a unique experience that shapes their understanding of the divine. That shapes their understanding of who and what Jesus is and means to them. That shapes how they hear words like, "you are a child of God." How they hear those words shapes why they are drawn to one particular tradition or another. How they hear God calling shapes how they respond to it.

So who is right and who is wrong?

Maybe that's the wrong question. Perhaps it isn't a question of right and wrong response or interpretation, but a question of what is it that moves us all toward God's vision of reconciliation and building his Kingdom on earth? I know I will continue to disagree with other people's understandings and interpretations of scripture, not be comfortable with certain expressions of faith, and even view some theologies as being harmful as opposed to helpful... but as long as we continue to strive toward the same goal, perhaps there is space for us to recognize that we are all simply small parts of a much bigger picture.

To recognize we continue to be flawed people who misunderstand God's word as much as we misunderstand each other, even those we're closest to, all the time. 

A Good Friday Grief, An Easter Hope

Holy Week and Easter Sunday are now behind us. For most pastors, that typically means slipping into a coma for about a week. Unfortunately, I'm not able to do that this year. The symbolic dates that we put on a calendar to help remind us of what God has done for us through Christ, the cross, and the empty tomb are now past - but that does not mean that we do not continue to live in the midst of our own Good Fridays and need for Easter Morning each and every day.

We spend a lot of time in our lives (well, those of us who find the topic intriguing and of importance anyway) debating theological issues. Debating small points of scripture, asking questions about whether Jesus really said this, that or the other thing. Arguing over the jots and tittles, so to speak. Is it free well, election, predestination, or some combination of all the above? Why does the Bible contain the books it does? Why do we still have those same old traditional services? Why do we think we need drums and guitars to make worship meaningful? Why don't we have more chocolate donuts for the fellowship hour?

Important questions and topics to debate to be sure. But today, two days after Easter, as I prepare to help preside over the funeral service for a 24 year old member of our congregation, I find most of my debates, arguments, and theological nuances flying out the window in favor of one simple message: "For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his." (Romans 6:5)

Whatever arguments, questions, or debates we might have, there is one simple truth in this life: We will die. We will share in Jesus' death whether we choose to or not. We all will have our Good Friday. Our dark hour. A path each and everyone one of us will travel down. We don't know usually know when, we rarely know how.

In the midst of grief and sorrow at the loss of a loved one, whatever debates and theological squabbles we might have with one another within the Christian community seem to melt away as we cling to the Easter promise in the face of death.

We know already that we share in Christ's death - clinging to the promise that we will also share in his resurrection. "He is risen!" is more than a Facebook posting for people to "like," it is the very essence of the Christian faith. The promise of new life, the promise of resurrection, of the old passing away, the new being ushered in. It is more than Easter egg hunts and chocolate bunnies. The empty tomb means something. No... I take that back. It means EVERYTHING. Christ's tomb is empty - a prelude to the promise that our tombs will one day be empty as well.

We walk together during this life, sharing in joys and sorrows - making mistakes, living in the midst of broken relationships, spending too much time arguing and fighting over things that ultimately will never matter. Worrying and stressing about what tomorrow will bring. I'm guilty. I know. I do this as much, if not more, than many people. I have my fair share of things that stress me out and make life less enjoyable than it should be. Which is precisely why hearing and knowing that this will all one day pass away is a lovely promise that I look forward to.

Today, however, my theological arguments lie in one simple, basic promise: "Because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved." (Ephesians 2:4-5)

Faith does not mean there is no grief when a loved one dies - it simply means we do not grieve without hope. Comfort comes not in a question of whether the individual believed or behaved exactly the right way - but rather in God's magnanimous love for sinners and saints alike, that wipes away the mistakes and sins of the past, replacing them with a new creation prepared for the Kingdom of God.

To live as Easter people is to live knowing God has another word to speak, that his power extends beyond the grave. That God has something to say about death - and that death is not the final word. That there is a word of life that not only breaks in on our present, but gives us hope and certainty of new life for the future.

For Christ is Risen... He is Risen INDEED!