The Last, Scandalous Temptation

Stuff Christians (like my
husband) like:
Bob Dylan's Saved...

I know it’s probably wrong, but since my husband doesn’t read my blog, I feel like I can say things about him with impunity. Not that I’m saying anything bad or anything… I’m not, or I haven’t or, or I don’t plan to… I try to convey my love while also keeping it real, and being his wife is part of my realest reality.

I have mentioned before that he and I have vastly different worship styles, and that is also real. We attend a fairly loose church, but it is comprised of an array of worshippers showing their love in various styles. While we don't have people speaking in tongues or being slain in the Spirit, we do have folks that cry and raise their hands and dance a bit during the songs... as well as those that stand still, eyes fixed on the power point screen bearing the song lyrics, quietly, reverently singing along. We as a couple run that gamut. And if you haven’t guessed, I’m the one that is dancing around with her hands in the air like she just don’t care… I mean, cares too much, if that’s a thing. While Tom, well, his caring is on the inside. He’s mentioned that he likes the music we have, but if I would not be surprised if he also wouldn’t mind if we just sang hymns like in the church he grew up in… the uber-conservative First Presbyterian Church in Greensboro. Because, after all, if you're not going to do rock/folk/pop well, stick with the tried and true, am I right? We are fortunate that our guy does the rock/folk/pop thing well.

The Swan Silvertones...

Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m a huge embarrassment to him at church. And not only does he eschew the overly emotional at church, he also is not big on the Christian subculture that surrounds us. I think that embarrasses him too. What he does love, though, is Christianity expressed through good art. In general, he experiences art as a critic. For this reason, his critic’s eye negatively assesses much “art” that communicates Christianity… for instance, those badly acted, obvious films like Courageous, and Facing the Giants and pop music by Michael W. Smith or Amy Grant.

So... what does he like? Bob Dylan’s Christian albums. One time we returned from our church’s Maundy Thursday service and in a fit of religious fervor, he immediately put on the excellent gospel record, Saved. I know most Dylan fans don’t really like Bob’s born-again phase, but this is a really good, vigorous record. He also likes the gospel group The Swan Silvertones.

...and this movie.

Another thing he really likes? Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ. Not only is he a huge Scorsese fan, but I wonder sometimes if he doesn’t like the thought of doing something a bit “naughty.” You see, back when the film came out, there was some protest from the religious community. I saw it soon after it came out as a new Christian, and then again… just the other night – when Tom pulled it out to go with our observance of Easter.

I barely remember what I thought the first time I saw the it. I don’t think I was particularly offended, even though my young Christian skin was membrane thin. While watching it the other night, though, after 20+ years of Christian living, I had these thoughts:

I like how Willem Dafoe's
Jesus is regular looking...

1. The casting was genius. Harvey Keitel as Judas? I like Harvey Keitel as anything,really, but as a fiery red-headed Judas? Brilliant. Roman Grant – I mean, Harry Dean Stanton – as Saul… nice. David Bowie as Pontius Pilate… A lad insane. But most of all, I dug Willem Dafoe as Jesus. A lot of movie versions of the Bible show Jesus as a really handsome white/beige guy. Maybe it’s just that I happen to like long-haired fellows, but apparently Stephen Colbert agrees. In reference to the History Channel’s recent miniseries, The Bible, he complains on a recent episode of The Colbert Report. "Their Jesus is way too hot," he complained But not in this movie. Scorsese's Jesus, Willem Dafoe is … well, he has a nice, lean, muscular bod – but he's not a pinup. He’s got those crazy teeth and strange cheeks… He's the Green Goblin, after all.

 

...instead of super hot.

It made me think about this part of Isaiah 52: 

“He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain. Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised, and we held him in low esteem. Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted.” (Isaiah 52:2b-3) 

This is a great description of the Jesus portrayed by Dafoe.

2. On the other hand, the Jesus he portrays is much more confused than the one in the Bible. In fact, I’ve often thought when reading it: “Everybody in this book doesn’t have a CLUE. Except this guy.” Jesus always knows what to do and the exact right time to do it.  And while others are just floundering for words, he knows exactly what to say. In The Last Temptation, Jesus’s sufferings come not just from his earthly persecutors, but from the torment of God’s constant, but incomplete interaction with him. In other words, God talks to him and makes him doubt his own sanity, but God doesn’t tell him exactly what he needs to know. He’s left to blunder on, figuring it out himself.

 

Bowie as Pilate... a lad insane!

As I mentioned, I don’t imagine this is completely accurate, but it doesn’t bother me. In fact if I’m completely honest, I’ll admit that I often wondered sourly that Jesus may have experienced much of human life, but did he know what it was like to have NO idea what God wanted from him?

3. If we’re following the Bible, the inaccuracies are legion. Part of Jesus’ work as a carpenter included making crosses for the Romans? Really? Saul kills Lazarus? And this John the Baptist was an old man who didn’t know him, whereas the Bible story records that John was Jesus’s cousin, and their mother’s were pregnant at the same time. When I pointed this out, Tom reminded me, “It’s based on a NOVEL.” Fair point. It is a fictionalized re-imagining of the events of the time.

In this version, Judas is Snape!

4. Despite the biblical inaccuracies, I found the spirit of the thing to be reverent, earthy and humble… It feels like the product of an artist who loves Jesus. Here’s what Roger Ebert said that Scorsese and screenwriter Paul Schrader "paid Christ the compliment of taking him and his message seriously, and they have made a film that does not turn him into a garish, emasculated image from a religious postcard. Here he is flesh and blood, struggling, questioning, asking himself and his father which is the right way, and finally, after great suffering, earning the right to say, on the cross, 'It is accomplished.’”

5. This story has Jesus asking Judas to betray him to accomplish God’s ends… which makes him… SNAPE! In the Harry Potter series, Severus Snape is an evil bad guy who is trusted by Dumbledore, the all-knowing, all-powerful good guy. No one can figure out why Dumbledore doesn’t notice how evil Snape is. Even devil figure Voldemort thinks Snape is evil (ie., on his side.) It is not until late into the last book/movie with this memory montage that we find out that Snape had been in love with Harry’s mom and spying for Dumbledore and trying to protect Harry all along. And Dumbledore TOLD Snape to kill him. Of course Severus did have his nasty, bitter streak, but he was essentially on the side of right. And all through his life, to protect his “in” with the Deatheaters, no one could know his secret, true allegiance. (I can hear the gorgeous, husky voice of Alan Rickman in my head saying as Snape, “No one can know.”)

So in this version of the crucifixion, Judas is actually the faithful disciple and friend of Jesus who was willing to be known as the traitor for the rest of his short life, and throughout history as Jesus’s betrayer – who sold him for 30 pieces of silver to the Jews.

6. The Last Temptation of Christ was made in 1988, which means it bears the imprint of that over-the-top decade in the form of fluffy hair and a synthesizery soundtrack by Peter Gabriel.

7. The title actually refers to the protracted dream sequence at the end of the film in which, as Jesus hangs on the cross, he imagines himself walking away and living a normal life as a man, married with children. Even as a tender young believer, I didn’t find this particularly scandalous… it being a dream sequence and all. I did think it went on a bit long, leaving the viewer to suppose that it was real.

What's a crucifixion without
a good resurrection?!

8. What I actually found a bit scandalous, actually, was that the movie ends with Jesus giving up the ghost. Now I know that it’s about that final temptation like the title says, and it was the choice the author/director/screenwriter made, but to me, what’s a crucifixion story without a good resurrection? The sacrifice that Jesus made was complete. “It is accomplished,” he says… but it’s not the whole story. Jesus's resurrection showed that he wasn't just another Messiah poser. He actually was who he said he was... I mean, is. Maybe the movement that sprang up in his name would have gone on for a while, but in the end, they'd just be following the memory and teachings of a good man rather than the Son of the Living God.

For Jesus, the cross wasn't the end of the story, no more than baptism is the end of the story for us. Our baptism symbolizes our “dying” like Christ did, but as I said, that’s just the beginning. Here’s what Paul says: 

“Don’t you know that all of us who were baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. 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 6:3-5) 

Okay, so the artistic choice to end the film at the cross was not exactly scandalous, but to me, it's the resurrection that makes the story. So there you have it – my thoughts on this scandalous art that prompts my quiet husband to worship. 

Good Advice with a Side of Cheetos

An old, tired mom and her new baby.

My friend Ginny, who is a lovely by the way, and a thoughtful, humble and honest blogger, recently wrote a piece called, A Letter to Young Mothers on her blog Cheetos for Breakfast that sort of exploded. She’s being kind of cagey about exactly how many hits she’s received, but it’s a lot. She has 137 (with a bullet) comments on it… and I’m not shy about saying I’m jealous! Folks rarely comment on my blog! But… I’m not supposed to compare myself to others, right?

I’m guessing I've never gotten that kind of response because maybe I’ve never written a post that was so meaningful to so many… You see, it’s about motherhood, and the pressure young mothers feel from within and from without – that is, from other parents – to do it right. Breast or bottle? Stay at home or work? Attachment parenting or … whatever the alternative is…? Plus all the other methods and advice people love to share....

"Help! I forgot how to nurse!"
(my first big mom anxiety attack)

As with all her topics, Ginny addresses it with the wisdom and grace of one with much experience in living and in wallowing in God’s endless supply of grace. She feels our pain, she shares the mercy she’s received from on high.

Because as I mentioned yesterday in my “horrible mother”rant, moms need grace… even moms who are NOT horrible need grace. Momming is the hardest job there is. In contrast to Ginny, who is younger than I and has four kids that are mostly grown, when I had my baby I was already old and tired. I was gung-ho, but … only within the parameters of my flagging energy and limited mental capacity. I made decisions based on… well, really, just trying to do the best I could. I knew breast feeding was good for my child, plus it would help me lose the baby weight, so of course I did it. I may be well over my anorexia, but I’m no fool!

Both my husband and me are the product of stay-at-home-moms who probably would have been saner had they worked… so after my eight-week maternity leave, I continued to work. Besides, our budget pretty much requires the second income I bring in. As for attachment parenting, that was a no brainer. I’d like to have seen someone try to DE-tach me from my baby!

Attachment parenting? I'd like to see
you try to detach me from this baby!

That is not to say I was not, or am not, worried about “doing it right” when it comes to parenting. Because I most certainly am! But as I said, because I was old when my kid was born, I sort of bypassed some of the hyper-hyper-anxiety that comes with being a mom, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t worry or feel pressure. I absolutely did. I worried when my child forgot how to breastfeed and failed to plump up as he should. I worried whenever he got a rash or swollen glands or a scratch or a cold or blazing red bottom or mealy yellow diarrhea or … just about anything.

Being older also gave me the advantage of being the only one I knew with a kid that age. Beside the moms at Bill’s preschool, who seemed to have similar parenting outlooks, I didn’t have anyone scrutinizing my every parenting move, telling me I was doing it wrong. So I had that going for me. In a state of sleep-deprived grouchiness, my husband would occasionally say something judgy, but what did he know? No more than I did. He was grasping at straws same as me. And, I wonder now if even parents who belligerently champion one parenting method or another are standing on ground just as shaky – they just want to believe they know what is right.

As for parenting advice, I’ve received and followed and / or ignored selected advice from a lactation specialist, our pediatrician, a nutritionist, Barry Sears, John Rosemond, my mom, other moms, my sister, my best friend, old friends, the American Academy of Pediatrics… Unless it is a strictly medical dilemma (and maybe not even then!), not every tip or recommendation works for every parent and child. I know I’m inexperienced and all, but I feel that I, along with my husband, can make these kind of choices regarding how to live out this heavy – but also quite light – job of being Bill’s mom... as only someone who lives in this house with this particular child can.

Highlight, underline and put
brackets around Micah 6:8.

And while that view certainly smacks of relativism, I am no relativist when it comes to God matters – specifically this word of knowledge that Ginny recommended in her fab post: “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)

It’s simple. But it’s also difficult. I mean, you still have to decide what comprises acting justly, and what mercy looks like. I guess walking humbly is necessary because you certainly have to be open to the notion that your idea of justice and mercy could be wrong…

Anyway, I love Ginny for bringing this up, because it just happens to be good advice for any person in just about any situation, and to see it applied to the most challenging job ever… well, it really helped. Because Ginny knows. She feels our pain, Moms. Guess that’s why so many folks read that post of hers…

Hardest Lent Ever

A trip to Williamsburg without
one of these? May it never be!

I’ve already reported the difficulty I was having with keeping my Lenten vow of giving up my own agenda in order to be present for my child… to listen to him, to look when he says, “Look!” … Well, it’s less than two weeks to Easter and I am here again to report that I have failed utterly. I know there is still time to make an effort in this area, but I’m actually not sure I’m up to it.

When I was sifting through the possibilities of what to give up for Lent, I toyed with several ideas, mostly of the giving up some kind of thing to eat or drink variety. But, honestly, I thought it would be too hard. Every time I give up sweets it just makes me crazy. Giving up fries… well, I thought that would be doable, but maybe not hard enough…? Giving up alcohol… ? Well, I’m not a drunk, for sure. But I do love a good beer or glass of wine with dinner sometimes. And if I am totally candid with you, I thought about how we’re going to Williamsburg right before Easter and I didn’t like imagining myself eating at Huzzah’s without ordering this cute little local beer sampler they serve, or going to the Dog Street Pub and not trying some interesting Irish or Scottish beverage. Now that right there tells you alcohol would have been a good thing to give up. But I just didn’t want to.

Instead I told myself I would exercise the discipline of dropping everything to listen to my child. How in the world did I think this would be easier than giving up alcohol, sugar or fries? I am here to tell you that giving up all three would have been easier than this herculean task.

Bill at the Dog Street Pub 
with his butterbeer.
(Relax, it's non-alcoholic.)

I’m not kidding, my kid has a LOT to say. He tells stories about things that happened that day or years ago, spinning out an impossible web of details and character motivations. He can talk for hours on end. Literally. Yesterday he talked for several hours about an event that lasted maybe an hour… and happened three years ago on a vacation to Williamsburg… an elaborate tale involving a battle between factions of kids at the pool at the Woodlands hotel, water balloons and boats made from pool noodles. (Scroll down to an exact transcript of his oration about the boy-girl wars of second grade. Kids names have been obscured to protect the "innocent." Keep in mind that this is merely a 10-minute excerpt, then multiply it exponentially to get a feel for what it's like to hear this for several hours.)

A rare shot of Bill NOT talking

Sometimes I tell him I can’t listen anymore and he says, “You don’t have to listen.” Then he keeps on talking. But you know what? Not only can’t I listen to it all… I can’t stand to hear it. I’ve been told by moms of older kids that when he gets older, I will long for him to talk to me… But having this head knowledge doesn’t seem to keep me from wanting to put in ear buds and listen to the Who while he’s talking.

Yesterday I told him he ought to write a blog since he had so much to say, but he dismissed this, saying, “I’d rather talk.” Like I didn’t know that. I’m pretty sure all this means I’m a horrible mom. Like I didn’t know that either. In case you are getting the wrong idea, I do love the little rascal. He's creative, funny, sweet and as smart as a whip. He is a gift from the Living God. I know this. When I check on him in his bed at night I have to resist the urge to cover his face with kisses. Sometimes I don't resist the urge. BUT... I also know that I either need to figure out … how to listen to him… or how to get him to reign in the chitchat. Either one is going to take a miracle... and/or lots of grace.

Again, I’m a horrible mom… and horrible moms need grace… lots of grace. And even though I can’t fulfill this Lenten vow, I have definitely learned a lot about my need for God’s grace.

It all started with the first attack, which would soon be known to be a horrifying thing. It wasn’t horrifying then, but later we know what it turned into. So it all started when three girls thought it would be HILARIOUS to run up to a boys kickball game and start screaming, “We’re going to hug you.” 

And, well, at that time, I had this really cool hat that I could see through, and I put it over my face and I didn’t move, so no one could see my face, but I wasn’t moving just in case I couldn’t see something. So I crept over near the battle and hid in a bush. Well, I took my hat off and crept over there and put it back on and hid in a bush. And I watched them chase. And then my hat fell off and blew away and I ran after it. One of the girls saw me, but I grabbed my hat and, like, dived into the soccer field into the middle of a soccer game so they couldn’t see me. 

Then they did it to a boys soccer game, then the boys did it back on one of these weird play things that the girls did. And soon it became a terrifying war, but that was after this. Because when they attacked the girls’ play thing it was a pretty big battle. It was the biggest battle so far. Not the biggest, but the one that had most of the chaos so far. But who knows what was yet to come. Then Christmas break started. When we came back there was a whole new boy army – except 2 recruits that had been there a long time ago: myself and my friend Henry. The army was Connor H--, Patrick B--, Luca K--, me and Henry K--, who is my best friend. And then we started fighting the same girls, except we heard of some trouble brewing near a place that… Well, no one who’s friends with me or Henry should ever go there. It’s called the Red Dome of Doom. All of me and henry’s enemies hang out there. They usually hang out there and stuff. They always try to catch us in it, but they never really can because we always escape. 

There was trouble brewing over there, but there was a war going on so we couldn’t pay attention to it. We just didn’t know who was causing the trouble. And then? The worst battle yet! Chaos! It was everything. People running around yelling that they were going to hug each other. At this point in the war, people actually had started being fast enough to actually hug people. It was really crazy. It was a huge battle.

Then, I figured out what the trouble was. Right when we started, there was a yell called, “Reinforcements! Come!” And then, suddenly, out of the red dome… Lauren P--, Lauren F--, Georgia S-- and Claire Heetderks joined the huge fight, lots of boys, but then, at the very end we were still outnumbered. Lauren P-- was actually threatening to kiss people. And so that’s when I tripped – I felt doomed. Because she was right near me. And right when she was swooping down, I shot a gumball under her foot and she slipped and then I ran as fast as a fox.

The battle continued on for several recesses until the boys and girls finally just couldn’t stand the same battle going over and over. Patch was losing command and he quit, then the all the battles - everything pretty much stopped. There was a moment of peace ‘til the trouble started brewing again… near where it always brewed – the red dome. Then the three last very, very loyal tired soldiers continued the longing fight of the boy-girl wars – me, Bill Moore… that’s what I’m called, that’s what my name is… Henry K-- and Luca K--. They’re all some of my greatest friends now. We ran up and battled some of the first soldiers til they quit. All except one. And Lauren P-- rose an army of some more. She got some more to join her. Abigail is the only one I can think of, but there were some more. So Evie, Grace and Louie had quit, but it was still lots of other girls. They had quit because they couldn’t take it anymore and they had practically surrendered. 

Then we had a huge battle, all along, and then we had maybe what I’d call a mortal blow. They started going after our last and best and our favorite base. Our only base. It’s called West Tower. It was a climbing wall and you could see pretty far. It had been our only base when we had to retreat. We had kept girls captive there and done things like that. And then the girls were coming. I took a map and ran and buried it – don’t really know the exact spot now. Then we had a huge battle and the worst thing happened there – West Tower became the girls’. Then we had huge, huge battles on the thing – Lauren P-- had a really big army at that time. It was on the play structure. Lauren P-- had a really big army – they were really violent. And so, we had to get special people. We couldn’t carry on with just three people. We had to get people in first grade, because I was in second grade at that time – Their names were Trey… Trey was my old best friend but he got held back then I met Henry. Trey had two friends. As a very last resort, Garrett and Seb. But then, the battles continued and fought and then we had summer vacation and when we came back we made a peace treaty and then other wars came.