Cleanse

I don’t think there’s any doubt that our country is facing a far-reaching marginalization of religion in general, and Christianity specifically. It is happening everywhere, at every level. The movement to purge Christianity from all aspects of public life is in full swing, led by men and women who have perverted the establishment clause. They have deceived a nation that doesn’t know any better, a nation that doesn’t even understand the rights granted them in the constitution, who would rather rely on quickly digestible sound bytes that “sound right” than actually be bothered to find out the truth for themselves. Wouldn’t want to miss JWOWW’s new show to educate ourselves now, would we?

Under the guise of “progress” or “progressive thought” these people have convinced others that the so-called “separation of church and state” (that phrase appears nowhere in the constitution or the Bill of Rights) means that religion should be utterly banished from every corner of the earth and relegated to quiet time in the privacy of your own home or church. That no one should ever have to actually see or hear about anyone practicing their faith, ever, because it may offend them.

Of course, they ignore the fact that a Creator is invoked several times in the very same constitution. They also ignore the numerous historical writings that establish most of the founding fathers as theists, if not Christians. And they ignore the specific verbiage of the establishment clause itself (and its companion, the free exercise clause), reducing it to a catch phrase that other brainwashed masses can latch on to and mindlessly repeat. I’m referring to the part which says, congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.

Wait…I don’t see anything about abolishing religion. I don’t see any reference to atheists having the right to sue anyone and anything that offends their apparently delicate sensibilities. What I see is protection for those who wish to follow a religion. I see the government being told not to establish a national church (and later, through the 14th Amendment, this would also apply to the State governments, as well as Federal).

The establishment clause was meant to protect religion from the government, not to protect the public from ever being exposed to religion or, heaven forbid, being offended by it. And even though people today have unparalleled access to virtually the entire sum total of human knowledge right at their fingertips, they’d rather take the words of angry atheist liberals spewing hate-filled venom, than to lift a finger and educate themselves properly.

As a result of these efforts, Christianity has been viciously attacked and marginalized, while many who follow it are content to do nothing. Or perhaps the correct phrase is, they are incapable of doing anything. That’s because, like their more secular counterparts, they are content with a minimal education about the subject matter, just enough to get them by but not enough to actually take their time and attention away from other matters. This tendency seems rampant in these last few generations.

But in times of crisis, sleeping giants sometimes awaken, and some of these folks are starting to do just that. Some of them are tired of being bullied and pushed around by angry atheists with an axe to grind against God, who beat everyone over the head with the word “reason” like they came up with it. (Mind you, their “reason” is typically a dash of science intermixed with an abundance of repressed anger at “religion” and God.)

Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver. I have tried you in the furnace of affliction. (Isa 48:10). In-context, this verse is discussing the refinement of Israel as a nation. But looking at where we are right now, I think we have little choice but to see this present darkness as a similar opportunity to be cleansed and refined. It’s time to let go of our complacency and realize that there’s a lot at stake here.

Christians in America have never been challenged like this before. We’ve spent the past two hundred years enjoying a free ride. We’ve never had to really get into why we believe what we believe. We were the defacto “religious experience” of the past two centuries. Thus, it’s truly frightening, the number of people who really don’t know the why of their faith. This year, I spoke to a number of Catholics regarding their tradition of getting marked on Ash Wednesday. Not one of them could give a reason why this is observed. When you don’t understand why, then the actions themselves become a meaningless, disassociated ritual. The response to why do you get marked on Ash Wednesday should not be, because I’m Catholic. This sort of thing makes assaulting Christianity incredibly easy.

So do trite platitudes and bumper sticker theology. Those small, digestible tidbits I was talking about earlier aren’t just the exclusive domain of the atheists or progressives. We’ve got plenty of our own. Clichés like “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” That’s a bastardization of 1 Corinthians 10:13, which is part of a larger passage discussing, specifically, temptation. “There has no temptation taken you but such as is common to man. But God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that you are able; but with the temptation also make a way to escape, that you may be able to bear it.” I could spend a lot of time writing on that, but click here for a truly excellent article.

It’s time to stop helping those who want to shove us behind closed doors because they find our beliefs offensive. There’s not a law on the books that guarantees anyone’s right to never be offended by anything. I’m just as offended by their flagrant disregard for others’ beliefs and opinions, but I’m not trying to sue them into silence or take down their insipid billboards or prevent them from having their atheist rallies. In fact, I’m fine if someone wants to follow atheism. But when they try to push their religion (let’s not pretend it isn’t) on the rest of the world, that I have an issue with. And so should they, since one of their core issues with Christianity is that we “force it” on others. Live and let live only applies to this group if you agree with what they believe.

We are being threatened by those who would blindly (and gladly) march an entire nation – an entire world – into utter darkness. These people aren’t targeting Islam or Buddism or Scientology. They pay lip service to disliking “religion” but their focus is Christianity. God. That’s the reality we face. That’s the fire coming for us. We can either allow it to refine us, sharpen us, strengthen us, or we can burn in it.

 

How Novel

I’ve written millions of words over the years. Millions. I’ve penned over 20 screenplays and teleplays. I’ve written some short stories that I’ll never admit to. So I wonder what it is about a novel that is so darn intimidating.

I’ve spent a lot of time the past few years exploring the various aspects of the arts. I’ve created a web series and directed the first few episodes. I’ve got other film projects I’d like to work on in some capacity. But the more it I branch out, the more I appreciate the simplicity of a keyboard, a computer screen, and my own thoughts. I enjoy making films, but I’m a writer at heart.

The past year hasn’t been great for that. I’ve written, and what I’ve written is pretty good, I think. But I miss when it was just me and the keyboard, letting the story flow organically, not worrying about whether or not we can afford to shoot this scene or at that location.

I like screenplays. They’re structured. Organized. The story beats and flow makes sense to me. It’s all instinct to me, now. I don’t even have to try to hit certain goals when I write a screenplay. I just know when what needs to happen, and I can make it seem very organic.

A screenplay is meant to be a skeleton, conveying just what is necessary to generate interest and provide a map for the director and actors. It can be written eloquently, but it’s not a requirement. I’ve written these things for years, as noted above. I’ve got it down to a science.

Novels? They’re not organized at all. There’s no formal structure. No flow. No story beats beyond whatever the author decides to throw at you. That makes me a little more uncomfortable. They’re such sprawling, random things. How do you get a handle on it? How do you make sense of a massive story that takes so long to tell and has such a distinct and different flow than a screenplay?

Well, simpler isn’t always better. And lately, my muse has decided to kick me in my complacency and set me back upon the elusive path of writing a novel.

I asked one of my instructors years ago if it were possible to be a novelist and a screenwriter. He told me not everyone was able to make the shift. He himself had done so, because years of reading drivel in the form of B-movie, direct-to-DVD screenplays made him feel kind of “dirty” in a literary sense. He commended my “voice” – my ability to hook a reader with a comfortable narrative voice that reads well, and encouraged me to continue in my efforts.

And so, on I go. I’ve penned around 2500 words in the past few days. I’m excited to be delving back into this world (both the world of the story and the world of writing a novel). Shepard and my other projects will be going forward as planned, of course. This book is kind of a palette cleanser for me, a way to reconnect to my inner writer and to tell a story much grander than any I’ve written in screenplay format. It’s a challenge I’m looking forward to.

Anyone else out there try to balance both screenplays and novels? What’s your preference? Why?

 

Divergence

Where will you go when the road splits before you?

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference

Robert Frost

I have to admit, it’s been years since I’ve thought about this poem.  As a literature nut who has straddled two worlds for most of his adult life, one would think I would have kept this particular piece a little closer to my heart.

At times, it seems like it’s a never-ending battle.  What do I want to be when I grow up?  The problem with that question is that I am, in fact, grown-up.  And all I can say that I am for certain, is indecisive.  I am not unique in this, nor am I the only one who has ever, or will ever, face these kinds of choices.  Left or right, fight or flight…such ponderous questions inspired one of the most well-known and memorable poems in all of literature.

My paths in the woods are career paths, specifically technology and entertainment.  I’ve walked this line for years, content to keep one foot on the tech path, and one foot on the entertainment path.  I write in my spare time, and work a full-time job in Information Technology.  I have a degree in computers, but I also am earning a degree in film.

It’s a curious combination, since scientifc, technologically minded people tend to be more left-brained, and creative people tend to be more right-brained.  Yet I’ve managed to straddle this line for over a decade of professional life, and the end result thus far has been a spectacular display of mediocrity.  Let’s take stock, shall we?

On the tech side of things, my career has been remarkably bland.  Oh, I have proven myself to be a hard worker, a self-starter with a talent for effectively managing processes and procedures and implementing improvements that save time and money.  I flourish in environments where I can contribute, and where my ideas are heard.  I have a good handle on technology and its practical applications in the business world.  Yet my I.T. career has been one stellar support job after another.  It is only now that I’ve earned a position that is more specialized and focused.  I’m comfortable here, to be sure.  And I’m drawing a terrific salary (especially in light of the few years in my twenties when I left I.T. for awhile).  Yet, things are stagnate, because there aren’t enough hours in the day to fervently pursue an I.T. career, manage home life, and continue with my “other half.”

On the creative side of things, there is no career to speak of: just a series of side projects, many of which have languished in “development hell” for years.  The efforts I have put forth, when I do put them forth, have been great, and very well received.  My virtual series, Frontiers, was at one time one of the most widely read fanfic series on the internet.  Yet, we’ve been releasing Season 3 since 2008.  I’ve begun several film projects that ended up being cut short due to various complications.  I’ve written several promising prose series that have a pretty big reader base, but they are stalled out early in the run.  Yet here and now, I’ve got a great web series off the ground, I’m planning my next short film, and things more moving with my classes.  But things are still stagnate to a degree. Why? Because there aren’t enough hours in the day to fervently pursue a career in writing or film, manage home life, and continue with my “other half.”

It takes a special kind of talent to straddle two sides of the fence.  It’s given me insight into reconciling different and opposing viewpoints over the years, making me something of a peace maker.  It’s allowed me to coax reluctant people into joining me on whatever damn fool crusade I’m embarking on.  But when it comes down to it, you have to take a side.  To walk that line forever is foolish and impossible.  One cannot serve two masters, at least not reliably.

I’ve never been more capable of venturing down one of those roads or the other.  Never been more prepared.  Will I have the steadfastness to choose technology and let go of my more creative nature?  Or will I have the courage to leave the relative safety of the familiar and embark upon that road less traveled?

In the end, it’s never really been about which I would choose.  It’s been about how long I could keep them both up.  How long I could kid myself into thinking it’s possible to keep it up forever.  How long it would take me to find the courage necessary to finally, fully commit myself. 

For me, there’s only ever been one thing I love, one thing that keeps me up at night, one thing that makes me giddy every day before work.  And my only regret, is that it’s taken me this long to realize it.  I’ve always “known” mind you – but the true epiphany, the true, self-permeating realization that I cannot possibly do anything else…that’s a little more recent.

I always thought that making this choice would be some epic event.  But it isn’t.  It’s a calm, quiet, private moment where something inside of me finally says, “Yes. Yes, you idiot, you’ve finally accepted it. Now go on and live your life. You’ve got a lot of wasted time to make up for.”

Two roads diverge in a wood, and I —
I will take the one less traveled by
And that will make all the difference.

 

Lead Role Cast

“Bella Morte” Lead Role

“Bella Morte” (Beautiful Death) is my next project, once Season 1 of “Shepard” wraps in October.  It explores the life of a beautiful femme fatale, Jaiyana, as she is forcibly drawn out of retirement and hired to take on one final hit.  Even though I’m still refining the script for this short, I’ve had the rare pleasure of already casting the lead role.

Those of you who have directed anything, stage or screen, know that casting a project can be both incredibly exciting and very challenging.  Sure there are casting directors and talent agencies to help narrow down the choices for you, but ultimately it comes down to matching that vision of a character in your head, with actual, physical people in the room next to you, patiently awaiting their turn to audition.  This also means keeping an open mind about it.  You may have to compromise on that vision to a degree.  But sometimes that’s when the greatest magic happens.

While casting “Shepard” I was met with tremendous good fortune.  I was fortunate enough to be able to offer two roles the very same night as the auditions.  The actors were just that good, and that perfect for the roles for which they auditioned.  I very nearly was able to offer a third that night as well, the role of Jamie.  We had two strong contenders for the part, so I decided to do callbacks for them both and see how it would go.  Once we got rolling, the choice was obvious.  And honestly, it had been my gut instinct from the start.

Megan von Wertman is a versatile actress.  She auditioned for two roles originally: Jamie, and Shayla.  These two characters are so diametrically opposed to each other, I was actually surprised to see she wanted to take them both on.  Far more common was to audition for Allyson and Jamie – characters that were more similar to each other.  Megan could have easily handled either role, but I was very compelled by what she brought to Jamie.

Most times, the “quiet” girl comes off as being fairly bland.  But Jamie, in Megan’s hands, leapt right off the page, right off the screen.  Finding a pretty girl to fill a role like that is easy.  But finding one who can infuse a character with so much personality – especially given the brevity of the character’s sides – is much more challenging.

It was also about that time I noticed that Megan’s versatility could make her the perfect candidate for Jaiyana, the assassin brought out of retirement in “Bella Morte.” Jaiyana is a challenging role, to say the least.  There’s a lot more to her than just being a patient, precise killer.  So much more, in fact, that to divulge even the slightest detail would utterly spoil the film.  She has a lot of pain and grief to carry with her, and a profound sorrow that most people cannot begin to imagine.  If there is a place more tormentuous than hell, that is where Jaiyana resides.  But there’s also a humanity to her, a spark that makes her relatable, sympathetic to the viewer.  To have already met the person capable of tackling that broad range at this early stage is definitely a pleasant surprise.

It’s a rare treat at this level to have such consistent good fortune in casting.  I couldn’t be more pleased with my cast for Shepard – every one of them is exactly right for their roles.  And now, Bella Morte is starting things off in the same way.  Although we’re months from rolling cameras on this exciting short film, I greatly anticipate seeing Megan’s Jaiyana in action.

 

Character Profile: Jason Shepard

“These kids aren’t my problem.”

It’s hard to imagine such a calloused and self-centered individual had such humble beginnings, but such is the case for Jason Shepard.  Born into a single-bedroom apartment (literally; his mother couldn’t afford insurance and had him at home), Jason grew up without luxuries like toys, disposable diapers, or medical care.  His mother worked three jobs to provide for them, after his father walked out soon after he was born.

Jason attended a poorly rated public school, where he was mocked behind his back for his limited wardrobe and the lack of a hot shower every day.  The constant taunting led to many fights and an ever-increasing build-up of anger and frustration.

Yet at home, Jason seemed content.  He enjoyed spending time with his mother at least once a week, and spent the rest of the time plucking away at a guitar she had bought him at a yard sale.  It was his most prized possession, and on it, he taught himself how to emulate the sounds around him.  He spent hours listening to the rock stations on the radio and picking out the tunes, then playing them himself.

Unfortunately, one of his mother’s job was working in a local mill, where she contracted a serious lung disease that prevented her from working.  After a friend offered legal counsel, she sued the company and the money won from the lawsuit allowed her to finally give Jason the kind of house and life she had always wanted for him.

High school turned things around for Jason.  His mother – with her health deteriorating – invested some of the money from the lawsuit and managed to make enough to provide for herself and Jason for a long, long time.  No longer ridiculed, Jason reveled in newfound popularity due in part to his impressive guitar skills.

Jason found himself escaping more and more into his music as his mother’s health declined.  He began writing songs, putting the lyrics to paper and then making up the tune as he went.  He also began casually dating Amber DiSoltes, a fellow Senior.  His mother had desperately wanted to see her son attend his Senior Prom, so he took Amber.  She told him how happy she was and how proud she was of him, giving him a strangely long embrace before he departed.

The next morning, Jason returned home to find his mother had died in her sleep.  He was devastated. He was invited to stay with his grandparents, but chose to move to New York instead, in the hopes of escaping his old life and pursuing a music career.  He left Saint Paul without so much as a goodbye, refusing even to take part at his own graduation.

Working as a Taxi driver in New York, Jason met up with Silas Bishop, a fellow aspiring musician.  Silas was playing a gig at a night club with his partner, Nathan “Nate” Reinke.  Their third man cancelled at the last minute, and Jason – who overheard this on a cell phone while driving the two to their engagement – offered his services.

The trio performed a few cover songs, and a few tracks written by Silas and Nate (which Jason picked up on after hearing the recordings just once).  By the end of the night, people were asking for EP’s and demos.  Silas and Nate offered Jason the job permanently, and Damned Azkus was born.

The band met with great success, eventually signing on with Interscope Records.  The band kicked off a brief tour in the Northeast to celebrate.  The album was a regional success, and a world tour was in the works.  Meanwhile, Jason had married Katherine “Kat” Veneziano.  A groupie for the band from age 16, she fell in love with Jason and married when she turned 18.

Twin boys soon followed, and “Kat” ended up leaving the road life to raise the kids.  Jason grew more and more distant, unable to find satisfaction at home or abroad.  He turned to drinking, had several affairs, and fell into a deep depression.  This life wasn’t what he had hoped it would be, and he had no hope left for any other kind of life.

After a late show one night, Jason took a groupie back to the hotel with him. Both were seriously drunk, and the girl, Tiffany, decided she didn’t want to wait until they were back in the hotel.  She climbed atop Jason, and the subsequent coupling resulted in a terrible car accident.  A piece of shattered windshield nearly tore Jason’s hand off.

After surgery, he was told his nerves were shot. He could never play guitar again.  The band was unable to find a replacement and their future deteriorated.  When Kat found out how the accident had happened, she took the kids and left.  Jason was utterly alone once more.  He spent several weeks in rehab only to fall back into old habits.  He landed in jail, lost his license, got it back, and repeated the cycle.

Perhaps it was fate that Jason ended up taking a trip into Virginia.  He had been drinking again, and was pulled over and arrested near Saint Paul. The arresting officer recognized him, and made a phone call on his behalf.  Jason went before Judge Harold Slate and was sentenced to community service, in the hopes of rehabilitating him.

Though he’s had a difficult life, it’s hard to feel sorry for Jason. Most of his current troubles are his own doing, and he doesn’t seem to care or look out for anyone but himself.  Yet deep down, there is a small part of him that is still that sad, lonely little boy who had only a guitar and a loving mother to get him through each day.

Fate has a funny way of bringing things full circle, and of forcuing us to confront the ghosts of a past we thought we left behind.  And so it goes with Jason Shepard, now standing at the beginning of a journey that will bring him face to face with shadows of his past and that will change his future forever.

 

Enter, the Shepard

Welcome to Saint Paul, Virginia.

Nothing ever happens here.  Until the day Jason Shepard comes home.

“Shepard” is my first major creative effort outside of film school, and my first attempt at a web series.  It chronicles the story of Jason Shepard, a one-time rockstar who has lost everything to a string of bad decisions and run-ins with the law (both of which involving copious amounts of alcohol).  After he is cut a break by a sympathetic judge, he finds himself back home, facing a lengthy community service sentence at an old church on the verge of closing its doors.

Inspiration for this story came from a number of places.  I’ve always enjoyed the idea of returning to what you’ve left behind and facing your past.  It’s not an unfamiliar story, that’s true. But the thing about “homecoming” stories is that they are as varied and unique as the individuals who populate their worlds.

Jason doesn’t have much left at home. No family, and no friends.  Just one lingering connection, in the form of an old high school flame that he walked out on after the prom.  And, one new connection, in the form of an aging and very much atypical church pastor, who seems to think Jason would be well-suited for the task of working with the youth group.

I didn’t honestly expect much to come from this series at first.  It seemed like a neat idea, but I never planned on taking it anywhere.  The nascence really came from my own church pastor asking me to work with the youth at our church.  It sparked an idea that has since grown into this web series.

We’ve just begun production, and have two full days of work under our belt.  As things continue, I’ll offer production updates and insights on this blog, and we’ll take a look at the unique cast of characters that populate this small but fascinating world.

Until next time!

 

Back to Basics

The new year is always a great time to think about starting fresh.  It’s an arbitrary and sometimes rather silly human custom to attach such significance to a date.  Dates aren’t “real” per se, but man-made constructs to help denote the passage of time.  Marking time goes all the way back to the beginning of human history (and some believe even before), although I grant you it wasn’t as extreme as it is today.

I’ve never been a “New Year’s Resolution” kind of person.  I’ve never really believed you need a new year to make a chance in your life.  And this is coming from a guy whose day of birth was actually ON New Year’s Day (January 1st, 1979 to be precise).  Nevertheless, the end of the holiday season does seem to be an appropriate time to re-examine things.  For one thing, it involves a degree of cleaning, as the Christmas tree comes down and the decorations are put away from another year.  It’s time to set things back the way they were (or change them, if need be) and, basically, “get on with it.”

I’ve spent a lot of time over the past month reading and reviewing some of my creative efforts.  I can honestly say that a lot of what I’ve written has held up pretty well.  But then I look at more recent writings and already they seem flat, stale, uninteresting.  In fact it’s hard to tell they were even written by the same person.

Life stresses have come and gone and changed me as a person – but I have let too many things get in the way of one of the greatest pleasures I have ever known.  I love writing – I love creating and crafting, of taking vague ideas and giving them form, structure, substance.  Writing is at the core of almost all communication, be it professional or amateur, for entertainment or personal enjoyment.  There’s not a single aspect of the process I don’t enjoy.  I even get a rush from clacking on a keyboard and seeing the letters appear on the screen.

Yeah, I’ve got it bad.

But I’ve also gotten away from that.  I’ve let other obsessions get in my way.  I’ve let life stress and other problems get in my way.  I stopped giving myself time each day to write.  (Okay, so I’ve always been terrible at writing to a deadline; I said I was good, I didn’t say I was perfect).

So yes, as the title of this entry suggests rather non-discreetly, it is high time I not only go back and focus on my original creative passion, but it’s also time I improve it.  Writing pretty words only gets you so far if you can’t do it consistently.  My personal lethargy (or perhaps laziness would be a better term) has been nipped in the bud on several levels in my life – including, now, this one.  I’ve had a screenplay that I’ve been writing off and on for about twelve years, now.  Twelve years!  (Its history predates that; it had been a prose story way back in Jr. High.)  It’s time for that screenplay to get finished, to see life again.  My VS, Frontiers, has stagnated severely thanks to an inconsistent release schedule (that was almost entirely the fault of yours truly).  The fanbase has sadly dwindled a bit, but a few have stayed on and for them, I will make sure this show gets done.  (Got a few plans in motion to gain a bigger readership, too.)

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions.  But what I am going to do is make a commitment to myself to become a better writer.  To stay focused on it.  To wrap up Frontiers, to get Clash done once and for all, and then to move on to projects I actually intend to film, like Eternia and The Way of Seeming.

It won’t be easy.  I’ll probably stumble, or get bored.  But things worth doing are often the most difficult to achieve.

Oh yeah, one more resolution: to stop using so many darn cliche’s.

 

Reconciling Christmas: Part the First

Ah, Generation X.  The children of the baby boomers.  We lived through Reagan and Bush, survived Black Monday, and saw the nascence of the home computer and video game industries.  War was something we read about

Baby Boom! No... not that one.

in history books, or that our grandparents (the so-called “Silent Generation” who survived the Depression) would talk about.  We witnessed the tragedy of the Challenger, the inexplicable rise of hair rock bands, and the birth of MTV (back when the M stood for Music, instead of Mindless).

Our childhoods were unique because we grew up in a time of relative peace that enabled the innovations we witnessed throughout our younger years.  Heck, I still remember our first VCR, and how amazing the concept of “renting” movies when I first heard about it.

On the downside, our parents also had a pretty high divorce rate.  A lot of GenXers come from broken homes, absent one parent or another due to divorce (or lack of marriage in the first place).  This seems to have led to a shift in cultural paradigms, because our generation began a trend that GenY continued (and often gets credited for): not getting married young.  There was a sharp rise in premarital sex when GenX hit our teen years, ostensibly because we saw what trouble marriage was when people jumped into it too quickly and didn’t want to repeat that.  This, of course, led to an upswing in teen pregnancies and STD’s.

Obviously, the point of this blog is to talk about Christmas, not delve into a sociological discussion about Generation X.  I’m trying to lay the foundation to explore why Christmas seems to have become so watered down and overhyped.  As GenXers continued to age and GenYers gained more prominence and representation, the more liberal ideas of the latter began to take center stage.  Probably due in part to the uncertainty and transitional state of their GenX forebears, GenY has forsaken many traditional and conservative values, but for the most part have not replaced those values with anything of substance.

Since the typical premium marketing demographic is in the (very vague and unofficial) range of 18-30,  most marketing and business have adapted to GenY’s more liberal leanings.  Suddenly we see fewer nativity scenes, a rise in prominence for other religious holidays in December, and the secularization of what is, by virtue of its very name, a religious holiday: “Cristes maesse” derived from the Greek “Christos” and the Latin “missa” – in other words, Christ’s Mass (interesting side-note: the abbreviation for “Christos” is – guess what? – the letter X; so simply writing X-mas is not, technically, taking the Christ out of Christmas).

I believe this is primarily why the holiday seems to hold less meaning for us today.  It’s all pomp and no circumstance, lots of glitter and red and green but bereft of its original substance and meaning.  (And when I say “original” in this context, I mean Christmas itself; not its predecessor, the pagan festival Saturnalia, or the German counterpart, Yule).

But Santa, what if I can't pay my mortgage?

So the struggle we face, especially since many of us are now raising our own kids, is what to do about Christmas.  It’s just not the same anymore.  Sure, in part it’s that we grew up.  Significant moments of childhood are often inconsequential as in adulthood.  But part of it is that Christmas has changed.  We look around now and see ridiculous sales and an increased focus on spending money and buying gifts, and we think… wow, that’s not what I remember at all.  Your memory isn’t faulty, folks.  That’s not how it was.

What was once a grand time of year is now frustrating.  It brings out the absolute worst in people.  Don’t believe me?  What about the Wal-Mart associate that was trampled to death under the heels of rampant Black Friday shoppers in 2009?  How many of you have been fortunate to actually have someone back off and give you a parking space, instead of racing you to it?  Shoppers prowl malls and stores on the lookout for the best deals, and they’ll knock you over and step on you to get there without a second thought.  The very concept of being a friendly, courteous, good neighbor is completely lost on them.

And the impatience and stupidity of people!  Everyone is in a hurry to get absolutely nowhere.  I’ve been tailgated on slick roads with my kids in the car by people who clearly have no concept of what ice does to traction.

And let’s not forget our own negative experiences with Christmas itself.  Do any one of you have a parent who had a clue how to tie the Santa story all together?  Or could provide a meaningful answer as to who the jolly one was in relation to this Jesus kid who was supposedly born on this day?  Probably not.  And as GenXers, we questioned our parents about everything.  Thanks to the relative peace and prosperity of our youth, we developed a culture of entitlement and expectation that the older GenY members have broken down into a science by now.  We knew better, right?  We could do better.

I’m going to examine three big elements of the holiday season over the next three days (well, nights), and offer some thoughts about how we can reclaim this holiday from its current, meaningless iteration.  Let’s reconcile then and now, and make the future, for our kids, a brighter one than we have ever known.  I’ll be starting with the path of least resistance, the simplest piece of this puzzle, the jolly red one himself, Santa Claus.  Or at least, that intangible ideal that is Santa, as one of the two big symbols of Christmas.

Reconciling the Symbols: Providing Context

Our generation is one of the first to really experience a massive influx of Santa culture, thanks to the advent of cable television in our youths, and the ever-evolving mass marketing methods.  We saw him everywhere – on billboards, on television (in commercials and in his own Christmas specials).  Who could forget the loose continuity of the Rankin Bass Christmas specials, like Rudolph and The Year Without a Santa Claus?  The big guy was everywhere, even more than in previous generations.

Sadly, this media explosion led to a ton of inconsistencies in his “origin story” if you will.  For one thing, most of us got name brand toys and electronics for Christmas, so the whole “elves making toys in a workshop in the north pole” thing kind of goes out the window.  Unless, of course, Sony had subcontracted some elves to produce a Santa-exclusive series of Walkman radios.

For another thing, our awareness of the world at large had evolved.  It was a big place!  How is it possible that Santa delivered toys to the entire planet?  And why did he always use the GMT -500 time zone that the eastern US utilizes?  When it’s midnight here, it’s already daylight in Japan.

And where did he come from?  Rankin Bass had their own theories, of course.  So did Clement Clark Moore in his classic poem, A Visit From St. Nicholas (better known to us as The Night Before Christmas).  Of course, Mr. Moore was likely onto something with that title.  A bit of rudimentary history reading will show you that there really was a St. Nicholas, who was born in Turkey sometime around 270 A.D.

Historically, Nicholas was a prominent and highly generous figure in the church (yes, even the “Santa” element of Christmas has religious roots).  His wealthy parents died at a young age, and Nicholas spent his inheritance to see the world.  He entered service to the church because he wanted to help others, and eventually became known as the patron saint of children, sailors, even thieves.

Yes, Virginia, there WAS a Santa Claus.

Of course, the man was only mortal and he eventually died.  Many stories arose about Saint Nicholas after his death.  It’s impossible to tell which are true and which are not, but the man’s selfless, generous life in service to others obviously provided the basis for the figure we know as Santa Claus.

In our house, Nicholas’ involvement in the church is at the forefront of what we teach our kids.  It’s real history – and it helps connect them to the very real history of Christ’s birth.  We’ve always tried to keep the stories of Santa sufficiently vague, explaining to the kids “they say” as opposed to stating it as a cold, hard fact.  We have a book we read near the start of each Christmas season, called, “A Place for Santa.”  It’s a cute little book that touches on “Santa’s” life as St. Nicholas.  I’ve seen other efforts made by the faithful to bridge the gap too, including a new VeggieTales video about him.

So why bother with Santa in the first place?  Speaking as a realist: try to avoid him.  It’s practically impossible.  He’s too much a part of our culture, and he’s not going away.  The kids are going to hear about him, from television, from their friends at school… heck my daughter’s Kindergarten teacher had her class write letters to Santa and he “wrote” them back.  No parents were consulted or warned prior to this so they could opt out or express concerns.

There’s no avoiding Santa, so the best thing you can do is educate yourself about him, and be prepared to answer any questions honestly.  Or tell them from the start who he really was.

You should also be prepared to deal with unintentional connections between Santa and Jesus – if “Santa” isn’t real, young (or naïve) minds may apply similar logic to Christ as well.  Every parent should be well-versed in apologetics if they intend to share their faith with their kids.  Understand the various evidence out there in support of Christ.  Understand any so-called counter-evidence; it’s kind of an implied mandate (see 1 Peter 3:15 – good advice, there).

Yes, I just referenced a Scripture verse – which is a great segue into part two of this blog: Reconciling the Religious and the Secular: To Believe or Not To Believe.  Stay tuned!  And remember, no matter how you handle this element of Christmas, remember that  whatever you tell them, is theirs for life, and it may color their own feelings about Christmas for years to come.  Don’t underestimate your influence.

Note: If you do wish to let your kids share in the Santa legends, there’s a nice little book we’ve read to our kids called, “A Special Place for Santa” – it’s available here.

 

Lord, Save Me From Your Followers

My faith has always been an ill-tended garden.  It’s an unfortunate truth, one that I’ve kept fairly well hidden.  With the onset of my anxiety issues, however, I’ve been forced to really look inward and examine my beliefs.  For if I really had faith in what I claim to believe, I really shouldn’t be having anxiety problems.  That was my initial thought, though it proved to be untrue.

God has always been in the background of my life.  Ever since those early days when my mom and dad took me to church.  I never wanted to go to.  I locked myself in the bathroom because I didn’t want to attend Sunday school.  When I got older, I went to a youth group called the Boy’s Brigade (sort of like Boy Scouts).  I even went to a Christian school.

I didn’t realize at the time but my education through these places was never actually very thorough.  I learned all the cliche’s and buzz words (“born again”, “get saved”, “sinner’s prayer”, “altar call” and so on).  I learned all about the evils of the occult, rock music, and Hallowe’en.  I learned about how I was a sinner and would go to hell unless I accepted Christ.  I had Bible classes as part of the curriculum.  We prayed before classes.  We had chapel services on Wednesdays.

I prayed the magic sinner’s prayer in sixth grade.  And probably about ten times a year after that.  But I didn’t know what I was doing.  I did it because people said I should, or else I’d go to hell.  I was never offered a proper explanation.  It was never explained just what this prayer was supposed to do or mean, other than “Now Jesus lives in your heart.”

Really?  That’s it?

It boiled down to a number’s game.  There was a singular focus: get people saved.  It didn’t matter if they really understood their decision.  All of that would come in time.  They just need to pray this prayer and get saved.  That was the focus, so little effort was spent in quantifying the decision or properly educating someone who prayed the magic prayer regarding what they were supposed to do.  No one is ever told how hard it’s going to be.  It’s pitched like a magic fix for the worst of problems.

The issue here is that we end up with a bunch of spiritually immature believers with little to no guidance or understanding, who are left to go out and continue the sales/recruiting process.  These people go out into all the world to follow what they were told was the focus of Christ’s message.  But they fail.  Because they cannot withstand the criticisms and challenges of skeptics.  Their beliefs can never truly take root, so they have no real defense.  They are left with a tenuous framework of belief tenets, a list of stuff they should avoid and a list of cliche’s with which to do the recruiting.  That’s it.

I don’t mean any of that literally, of course.  And I’m sure many of these people who are out there trying to “save” others are good people who are trying to do the right thing.  The problem is they aren’t really looking at the big picture.  They don’t know Christ; instead, they know what his message is according to what they were told.  They don’t question.  They don’t wonder.  They accept it all on blind faith – irresponsible blind faith.

Growing up in the midst of all this, it’s no wonder at all that eventually I fell away from it.  Looking at this approach as an adult, with a certain degree of wisdom and experience, I can easily trace my path from that kid in the private school to the adult plagued with doubts and questions.  I’ve always had discontent in my spirit about many of these things.  None of it has ever seemed right.  I’ve recently realized my real issue with Christianity wasn’t necessarily believing in God or in Christ… it was the people who claimed they do.

Gandhi once said, “I like your Christ.  I do not like your Christians.  They are so unlike your Christ.”  I cannot find better words to describe the current state of Christianity in this country, and in the world at large.  So many people who claim to be Christians are the exact opposite.  Not only do they often fail to communicate the message of Christ, half the time they’re communicating the wrong message altogether.  Almost every public face of this faith has been brought down in the last few decades, or they’ve had a PR faux pas that has ruined their ministry.  They act so holy, pretend to be perfect in the public eye… but eventually their sin catches up.  And since they don’t preach a message that says “Hey, we are Christian but we still screw up, we don’t have all the answers” they are judged fiercely by the public, thus reflecting poorly on the whole.  (I won’t even get into the war-mongering Christians who want to obliterate others; needless to say, wars have been fought in the name of Christ.)

If I were an outsider looking for something higher to believe in, I’d have a hard time accepting Christianity.  Its people behave in a way that is in direct contrast to the message of the faith.  I certainly don’t expect perfection – but a lot of people who claim to be Christians aren’t even in the right ballpark.

Yet as much as I cannot abide organized Christianity, I also cannot dismiss the faith it is supposed to represent.  It is unique from other faiths in that it is not based upon teachings, but a person.  You can take Buddha out of Buddhism and still have his teachings.  You can remove the person of Muhammad and still have the teachings of Islam.  But if you attempt to remove the person of Christ from Christianity, you completely lose Christianity.  The faith is tied directly into the person, not the teaching.

It comes down to this: either Christ was who he claimed to be, or he wasn’t.  It’s a very direct question, isn’t it?  It’s a “yes” or “no” answer.  And this answer forms the basis of the absoluteness of the faith.  There is no middle ground, no room for interpretation.  There can be no “Jesus was a good earthly teacher or prophet, but he wasn’t the son of God.”  Why?  Think about it – this guy claimed to be the Son of God.  Which means one of two things: either he really was… or he was a lunatic with a death wish.  Who in their right mind would stroll into the biggest city in Israel, the very front door of the teachers of the law, and claim to be the Son of God?  I don’t care how uplifting his teachings were, he must have been out of his mind.  Or he must have been right.  It’s one or the other.  It can’t be both.

I’m digressing a bit, and I apologize.  The point to all of this, I suppose, is not to judge the whole by the rantings of a few.  I can assure you there are thousands of people out there who would call themselves Christians, who are thoughtful, responsible, tolerant, and helpful.  I’m still working out my own faith.  Still analyzing and questioning (which, if you read the scriptures in context, we are encouraged to do) because that is how you grow.  I regret that the public perception of this faith is so negative, because the heart of it is the exact opposite.  And I regret that I let myself be led down shallow, unfulfilling paths instead of being more discerning.

I’ll write more on the subject another time.  I think the real message of Christ is getting skewed by these salesmen who are hunting for bigger numbers.  But that’s a message for another day.

 

Pact with the Devil, Indeed

“Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love.”
– Buddha

It’s true that a great majority of people hear the word “Christian” and shudder.  So many people have had negative experiences with people who throw that word around like they know what it’s supposed to mean.  Self-centered, self-righteous assholes get up on their soapboxes and claim that God has foretold the world will end on a certain day, at a certain time.  Or that if you are getting sick or if you are poor it’s because you don’t have enough faith.

People like that piss me off.  They are swindlers, schemers, and liars, false prophets every one of them.  Yet these are the “Christians” who have the most exposure.  These are the Christians who found non profit organizations (yet somehow they themselves are always sporting elaborate wardrobes, new cars, and a wealth of materialistic delights) and who beg you to send them money to support their so-called ministry.  God will heal you if you just send us more money.  So they can afford to buy themselves more exposure.

A variety of “Godly men” have been in the national spotlight over the years, at first for their ministry and then usually again because their dirty laundry finally catches up with them, or they put their foot in their mouths and swallow it to their thighs.  Jim Bakker (a master scam artist who suckered gullible Christians out of billions of dollars in the 1980’s) is a well-known example of the former.  Jerry Falwell is a perfect example of the latter, with his horribly divisive comments about September 11^th.  Perhaps also worth noting is “faith healer” Benny Hinn, who predicted the destruction of the gay community in the mid-90’s (must have slept through that) and the resurrection of dead people who tuned into Trinity Broadcast Network if loved ones pressed the hands of their departed family against the television screen.

Such absurdities may be easy to dismiss for most rational people.  It’s not that I doubt God’s ability to raise the dead.  It’s that I doubt he would use a pompous, self-absorbed asshat windbag like Benny Hinn to do it.  Sure God can use who He wants for what He wants.  But there’s a long recorded history of the types of men God has worked through, and none of them dressed in brand-new clothes or built elaborate sets or begged for money.

Ranking right up there with these so-called righteous men of God is Pat Robertson.  Mister Robertson is the founder and head of the Christian Broadcast Network and the well known television show, The 700 Club.  I admit that in my nascent years of faith, I watched the show a lot.  It was one of the only shows that I could really stand on the local Christian television station.  I also had a more personal tie to the show, in that my one-time friend and schoolmate’s sister had been featured on the show after surviving what could have been a fatal accident.

But in recent years, I’ve grown more frustrated and skeptical with the message I am hearing from these people.  When Jerry Falwell suggested that this country deserved the 9/11 attacks, Robertson agreed with him.  He has personally attacked and denounced a variety of denominations and groups, has made false prophecies about world events that he claims were God-inspired, and has had some very strange financial controversies.

I take it personally to a degree, because he supposedly represents my faith.  Yet the more I see of him, and others like him, the more I realize it’s not my faith at all.  It’s a corruption and perversion of it.  The men and women who represent MY faith are toiling in relative obscurity, with little or no money of which to speak.  They are languishing in prison cells in other countries for their faith.  They are out there personally making a difference every day.  And it is a very unglamorous job.  But I don’t remember Christ driving a new luxury sedan or wearing the latest in Jewish fashions of the day, either.  And the differences between Him and the men who claim to represent Him today don’t end there.

Robertson’s comments regarding the situation in Haiti are appalling.  If you haven’t heard, the man has suggested that Haiti made a pact with the devil himself to get rid of the French, and have been cursed ever since.  Such a statement is staggering – it truly calls into the question not only the faith of this man, but his very sanity.

The people of Haiti amaze me.  Haiti may be a poor country, but it was a country born from a slave revolt.  To suggest that the people of Haiti were WRONG to want freedom from a foreign power invading their land and enslaving them shows a staggering lack of comprehension.  Our country wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the colonists’ desire to be free from Britain.  Israel herself was enslaved how many times – yet Pat Robertson apparently has no problem with them shaking off their oppressors and finding freedom.

I hesitate to even dignify the “pact with the devil” comment with my time and attention.  It stands on its own as a mind-numbing display of ignorance and stupidity.  I cannot even fathom a motive for this statement, short of perhaps the need to drum up new members for the 700 Club by creating a media controversy that brings Robertson more attention.

Yet Robertson’s words are echoed by literally thousands of Christian pastors across the country and across the world.  Divisive, hate-filled, judgmental comments that serve no purpose except to sow hatred and reap conflict.  And the prophets spewing forth this poison fashion themselves as soldiers in God’s army, fighting the good fight against the evils of this world.  It’s us versus them.  Good versus evil.  No shades of grey.  No room to judge individuals – only entire cultures and religions.

They rally around Christ’s words that “I did not come to bring peace, but a sword (Matthew 10:34)” and, like countless others before them, they wage unforgiving Holy Crusades where their way is the only right way.

What they fail to do is interpret Christ’s words in the context which He was speaking!  This is something I expect to be posting more about in the days to come, but put simply, you cannot pick and choose random phrases and make them mean what you want them to mean.  You have to put aside your own preconceptions about what you think it meant and look at the text.  Let it stand on its own.  Look at the original context in its entirety and form your opinion based on that. 

Christ wasn’t saying that His message was meant to be divisive and that everyone who stood against that message would be punished.  He was saying that the words He spoke were going to cause conflict because they flew in the face of everything the Jewish people understood about how God operated at that time and what their place was in his plan.  Certainly there is some “trickle down” in that anytime one’s preconceptions are challenged there is the potential for conflict.  But that doesn’t mean you gird up, strap your sword on your thigh, and charge off to judge the enemy.

The 700 Club is doing its part to send help to Haiti, which is admirable.  But you can bet they are also spoon-feeding the suffering people their twisted version of the Christian faith.

The time is long past to wake up and realize the staggering contradictions in this old school, hellfire and brimstone doctrine.  Has the church been missing the real message all this time?  Was the true focus of Christ’s message and ministry about damnation and judgment?

I recall incredible acts of compassion.  I recall a focus on restoration – on making people whole.  And not just certain people.  ALL people.  That is why he brought “a sword” – the Jewish people were no longer the only ones with free access to God.  Now, everyone could be restored.

I’m not going to dwell too much on this right now.  I do have many more thoughts on this topic and I will definitely post them sometime soon.  But now is not the time for preaching, it’s the time for compassion.  It’s the time to reach out to a suffering nation and do what we can to help them.  And it’s the time to silence the boneheaded, thoughtless ass clowns who spew out venomous bullshit at suffering innocents.  I implore readers to realize that this idiot does NOT speak for the Christian faith.