"Christian" Art: Show versus Tell

There's been a flurry of "Christian" movies in the last year, but most aren't good. Or, at least, they aren't good art. My opinion is certainly not unique, even amongst other Christians, which begs an interesting question: how come most explicitly "Christian" art is so bad? And what makes art "Christian"?

Let's take the first question first; what Christians often miss is that art communicates through two means: form and content. Something might be good art in form- the way the message comes across- but may proffer a terrible message (content). In cinematic fashion, a great example of this might be No Country For Old Men, where the acting and cinematogrophy are first class, but the ultimate message is nihilistic. Alternatively, a message may put forth a good message, but be terrible artistically. Most "Christian" movies in the past year fall in this category. Allow me to elaborate.

A movie currently making the rounds in "evangelical Christian" circles is Courageous. The movie depicts four fathers-all police officers- on their journey to parent and how their faith informs such a journey. Largely, the movie depicts a good message; namely, that it's good to be a good father and that it's hard and that it's rewarding and that it's ultimately powered by God. Some of my problems are with content: there is a moralistic tinge to this kind of message. In other words, if we don't do something by our own sheer moral effort, it won't get done. Ironically, this subtly contravenes the Christian message. Even still, most of my problems with the movie aren't necessarily with its moralism.

My problems with the movie is that it's bad art. Sure, "Christian" movies have come a long way in certain respects. The acting is better. The camera work is better. And yet....and yet.....it's still bad art, and there's a simple reason for this. The movie doesn't know how to get it's message across in anything but preachy aspects of dialogue. The most profound moments in the film are when someone is talking to someone else about what they need to do or believe. In other words, the only reason the movie exists is for me to watch other people talking to each other. The final scene in the movie even depicts a guy preaching a message from a pulpit. It's all tell, and no show. Art is thus limited with this kind of approach.

Similar critiques are leveled against a different kind of "Christian" film: Blue Like Jazz (great critiques of the film's preachiness can be found here and here). Despite the fact that this film attempts to be edgy and a different kind of Christian film, the reviewers above can't help but notice that the movie's message is attempted primarily through drab dialogue.

But what's the alternative? Is there any way to promote the content of the Christian message through a vehicle that waxes more artistic? Yes. I submit to you The Tree of Life, a Terrence Malick film that has nearly no meaningful dialogue. The actors-Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain- no doubt carry some of the strength in artistry. But ultimately, the film promotes aspects of the Christian message without ever saying so in dialogue.

The essence of the film is a 20th century Job story where a father and mother lose their middle child and the father loses his job. And yet, the film almost never tells you that those events are happening. You have to watch it happen through innuendo, through visual representation, through the absence of what isn't there in series after series of visual vignettes. Interspersed between larger groupings of vignettes are barely audible prayers addressed to God: various forms of 'whys?' and 'how longs?'.

Furthermore, the brilliance of the film rests on its reliance of the visual as it overlays the Biblical message of Job. The film starts with a biblical quote, its only true message of preaching, but it sets up every visual element. The quote is from Job 38:4 and 7.

"Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth ... when the morning stars sang together?"

There is some difficulty here, because you have to actually know the reference in Job and know the biblical story for the film to make any sense. In the quote, you know that God is speaking to Job. Job has been trying to vindicate himself before his friends the entire book, saying that he's not suffering because he is wicked. Job repeatedly demands his vindicator, God, to so grant his case before his friends. Eventually God comes on the scene and essentially says, "who am I to vindicate you? I was the one who created this whole thing. It's you who ought to worship me."

With that in mind, for about 20 minutes in the middle of the movie, the visual vignettes backtrack in time to celestial images and the fashioning and forming in deep space. It's not until about five minutes into this extended- seemingly incredible interruption- scene that you realize what's happening. Malick is showing us creation, instead of telling us about it. Malick is giving us God's answers to these barely audible prayers in visual form, and not in dialogue.

The film, understandably, is thus very difficult to follow. It's the complete opposite of most "Christian" films, because having no dialogue means the message is a little harder to discern. The audience's understanding of Malick's message is thus tentative, and even still the artistry of the film definitively supports the idea that God doesn't owe us anything, and yet he still redeems us (Job 19: "I know my Redeemer lives.") It's the Job message. The Christian message. Not through dialogue but through a powerful artistic form.

That gets us to the second question we asked at the beginning: what makes art "Christian"? I think The Tree of Life, despite not being explicitly "Christian" art, is still good Christian art. Are there other movies, for example, that can fit this description? Perhaps. Harry Potter and The Hunger Games are certainly not explicitly or implicitly about the Christian message, but there's a reason the motifs from those films are powerful. Harry takes the judgment of Voldemort due him and dies for everyone, and is brought back to life. Katniss takes the place of her little sister in what seems certain death.

Did you catch that? The reason those motifs are so powerful is attributed to what theologians have called "substitutionary atonement" for centuries. Jesus takes our place on the cross and the penalty that was due us-he is our substitute- and gives us his righteousness in place of that, if only we'd believe in Him. There, right there in not-Christian movies, is the concept of a Christian idea being played out. It's not being told to us, it's being shown. If only "Christian" movies could learn this lesson.

That leaves me with only one obvious conclusion from all these premises: in Christian art, we need more show, and a little less tell.

The Kingdoms of this World Shall Become the Kingdom of our Lord

The kingdom of this world
Is become the kingdom of our Lord,
And of His Christ, and of His Christ;
And He shall reign for ever and ever,
For ever and ever, forever and ever.

Those words are taken from the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. Though regularly sung in high school choirs across the country, it's galling words are rarely reflected upon anymore. And an interesting juxtaposition of our kingdoms versus Jesus' kingdom was given a few weeks ago, in a Philadelphia Macy's store.

What on earth happened on Oct. 30? Over 600 singers from over two dozen music singing groups planned a "spontaneous" or "random" act of "culture." The Macy's contains a large organ, and they planned to surprise many of those Saturday shoppers with a powerful moment of beauty. It seems their simple goal was to provoke others- going viral with youtube of course- to explore the depths of high culture.

The first irony shouldn't be lost on us. You see, these fine singers were trying to promote the beauty of high western art and culture. Even their viral youtube video is called a "Random Act of Culture," which belies their true intention. Beauty is to be exalted. But undoubtedly, many in the high culture camp have atheistic views. They don't care for Handel's words but they love his art.

But how can a person experience beauty if we are simply more evolved animals who are pre-conditioned to respond to stimuli? What in atheism gives license for the hearer to have a powerful emotional experience with art? In atheism, it's perfectly natural for the strong to eat the weak. In atheism, it's perfectly natural for self-interest to reign. What in Handel sparks self-interest? What in Handel accounts for these complex and profound human experiences? As irrational as it may seem, the human heart was meant to be raptured by beauty. What acounts for this?

The second irony. Jesus Christ himself is the ultimate beauty. And so in the middle of a Macy's store in Philadelphia in 21st century America, the kingdom of our world- commercialism- is become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ. In a center of American worship- the mall- Jesus Christ was being exalted. And forever will he be exalted by his people. It's the beauty our heart needs, and the beauty we were made for.

Entralled by Beauty

Beauty itself is one of the few things that truly lasts. As humans are created in God's image, we cannot help but be creators ourselves. And we are at our finest when we are making something beautiful.

Furthermore, Christians have the strongest and best explanation of why some things are beautiful and others are not. To experience beauty is a unique human experience, and other worldviews have a hard time explaining why something is beautiful.

Beauty in science was born out of a Christian worldview: the idea that the world was created by an organized Creator who is rational and put things in their place. Because of this view, Christians believed the world was orderly, testable, rational, and that science could thus flourish in repeatable experiments. Naturalism, which results in chaos, and pantheim, which results in an impersonal uncertainty, could not have started the beauty of science.

Beauty in art was also, to some extent, born out of a Christian worldview. But in this vein humans have always created art, since our very beginnings. But the best art, the most beautiful art, is born out of a Christian worldview. Painting, dance, sculpture, music, and architecture are all at their finest when considering a Creator God. But the only reason I wrote all that was not so that you could disagree or agree, really. Normally that's what this blog is about.

Sometimes it's better just to enter in to the beauty. So I give you Bach: one of my favorite composers.

Book Standards

Let's face it, there are a lot of bad books out there. So many books vie for our attention, and so many books are written in so many fields of human knowledge. How is one to decide what kind of books he or she should read? I have a few thoughts.

Does it add to the field of human knowledge? Far too many books are recapitulations or hack reproductions of better works. If it doesn't enlarge the field of human knowledge, then it probably isn't worth reading. Generally, if an older book is still around, then it's probably worth reading because time is a good judge. It isn't a perfect judge, though.

Does some other writer say it better or represent a certain viewpoint better? While this is related to the last one, it is slightly different in it's application. To read Nietzche is a better pursuit than a current postmodernist. To read C.S. Lewis is better than reading almost all current books on Christian living (I'm looking at you, Brian McLaren and Donald Miller).

Does a book represent its worldview well? A book might proffer a worldview with which I disagree, but I won't waste my time on any book that doesn't represent some of the best that worldview has to offer.

Is the writing beautiful? Beauty is always a standard. Don't let postmodernism fool you into thinking that all art or writing is equally beautiful. The Brothers Karamazov is still considered one of the best novels ever. Go into Barnes and Noble today and you won't find any Dostoyevskys. I'm reminded of the scene from the first National Treasure when Nicolas Cage's character reads the Declaration of Independence in the National Archives. He reads an elegant section (but isn't all of it elegant?) and proclaims, "Nobody talks like that anymore."

Is it trite, meaningless, or reduced to pop psychology? If it is, don't read it. I'd put most political tomes in this category. In general, stay away from Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, Al Franken, or most modern political tomes. They are narcissistic and not serious. Want to deal with serious political philosophy? Read John Stuart Mill, Jeremy Bentham, John Rawls, Alexis De Toqueville, William F. Buckley, and many others. Also, most leadership and self-help books fall into the category of pop psychology. Avoid these at all costs.

Is it narcissistic and overly (auto)-biographical? If it is, don't read it. This category relates to my last question as well as to the question on a book's worldview. Too much focus on the self is more a matter of pride than worldview. Biography is important, but it does not have to be narcissistic.

So, would you add anything else to this list? Would you disagree with anything I wrote? I'm curious to hear from you.