Best Book of the Year: Shadow Divers

Shadow Divers: The True Story of Two Americans Who Risked Everything to Solve One of the Last Mysteries of World War II.

--IF MY REVIEW DOESN'T WHET YOUR APPETITE, CLICK HERE AND READ THIS ONE.--

This book is outstanding. The adventure of a lifetime. A mystery underwater? I was already hooked. Two guys who find a German U-Boat off the New Jersey coast? Then entire crew still inside? That’s a book with promise. And the author delivers. He weaves just the right combination of non-fiction research with a fascinating tale of two men struggling for seven years—against incredible and unexpected odds—to figure out which U-Boat they had found. If you know anything about research, or simply believe in the value of an accurate historical record, you’ll enjoy the subplot as much as the death-defying dives to the sub, forever submerged under 200 feet of cold, North Atlantic waters. When I finished this book, I wrote somewhere it was the best book I had read in years, and possibly the best non-fiction I had ever read. I cannot recommend this one too highly.

When you finish the book and look at this story, the amount of material Kurson had to comprehend and then organize into a narrative, his work is astounding. But you won't think about that until you finish. The book is too good to stop and think about such things--you'll just want to read and read and read. By the way, the book was published in the summer of 2004. But it is the best book I read in 2005 . . . .

Praises for the Incarnate God.

Think about the Incarnation--the real secret of Christmas: Creator becomes Creature. God sets aside His Glory and takes on the incontinent frame of a helpless newborn. A crying baby. And the God of the universe was born a refugee, with no place to lay His head, no roof, no bed, and jobless parents on the run from the slaughtering armies of a murderous king. And He was born in a stable, no less--can you get any lower? Laid in a feed trough? Homeless, a refugee in Africa? And people would whisper about the legitimacy of His birth. How could He have been born in more humble circumstances? He would spend His childhood in a country that knew neither His language, His culture, His people, nor His Father. Egyptians didn't like Hebrews when the first Joseph brought his family from Canaan. After the Exodus, the ethnic strife surely worsened. No matter how bad your story, is His not comparable? Or if you're like me, there can be no comparison--His being so much worse.

It is no exaggeration to say He whose position was highest in the universe took on the position of the very lowest. But why? We know why He went to the cross, right? That cup was necessary for our salvation. But why did the rest of Jesus's life have to be so humble, so difficult? Plenty of Biblical heroes had decent childhoods. But Jesus suffered thirty-three unusual years not for our salvation, but our encouragement. He suffered in all things as we have. He knows our griefs. This is the key to the title, Man of Sorrows. Not that He was sad, but that He can relate. When we find ourselves suffering cruelly, nailed to a cross because our crime merits death, and we beg God to change everything--He doesn't. Often He lets us suffer. But--and this is so amazing!--He sets aside His glory and joins us. When He does not remove our suffering, He joins us in it. And then we know the fellowship of His sufferings. And what a fellowship--to be joined in our suffering by the Great Physician, the Wonderful Counselor, the King of Kings.

How many kings would do that?

How Should a King Come?

How should a king come?
Even a child knows the answer of course,
In a coach of gold with a pure white horse,
In the beautiful city in the prime of the day,
And the trumpets should cry and the crowds make way.
And the flags fly high
In the morning sun
And the people all cheer
For the sovereign one,
And everyone knows
That's the way that it's done.
That's the way that a king should come.

How should a king come?
Even a commoner understands
He should come for his treasures
And his houses and lands.
He should dine upon summer strawberries and milk
And sleep upon bedclothes of satin and silk.
And high on a hill
His castle should glow
With the lights of the city
Like jewels below.
And everyone knows
That's the way that it's done.
That's the way that a king should come.

How should a king come?
On a star-filled night into Bethlehem
Rode a weary woman and a worried man,
And the only sound in the cobblestone street
Was the shuffle and the ring of their donkey's feet.
And a king lay hid in a virgin's womb
And there were no crowds to see Him come.
At last
In a barn,
In a manger of hay,
He came! And God incarnate lay!

And the angels cried,
"Glory, Glory to God!"
Earth was silent so Heaven rang.
"Glory, Glory to God!"
Men were dumb so the angels sang.
"Glory, Glory to God!
Peace on Earth, good will to men!
Glory, Glory to God!
Christ is born in Bethlehem!
Glory to God, Glory in the Highest!
Glory to God, Glory in the Highest!
Glory to God!"

What if Mary Had Said 'No'?

Two 'bookends' around the life of Christ are parallel passages and favorites of mine. Mary answered the angel, Behold the bondservant of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to Thy word. Years later her Son prayed, Not my will, but Thine be done.

And aren't we thankful? But with contraception, abortion, and fears of either over-population or inconvenience, there exists a worldwide move toward childlessness, not only in China, but among northern Europeans, and many Americans. Don Feder has written many excellent columns on the subject, and Pat Buchanan highlighted relevant UN reports in his The Death of the West. But for a Christian perspective, I like the latest from Rev. Al Mohler, Jr.

Favorite Christmas Song of 2005.

Can't Live a Day

I could live life alone
And never fill the longings of my heart
The healing warmth of someone's arms
And I could live without dreams
And never know the thrill of what could be
With every star so far and out of reach
I could live without many things
And I could carry on, but...

CHORUS
I couldn't face my life tomorrow
Without Your hope in my heart I know
I can't live a day without You
Lord, there's no night and there's no morning
Without Your loving arms to hold me
You're the heartbeat of all I do
I can't live a day without You

I could travel the world
See all the wonders beautiful and new
They'd only make me think of You
And I could have all life offers
Riches that were far beyond compare
To grant my every wish without a care
Oh, I could do anything, oh yes
But if You weren't in it all...

CHORUS

Oh, Jesus, I live because You live
You're like the air I breathe
Oh, Jesus, I have because You give
You're everything to me

CHORUS 2X

We saw Avalon this month. They were phenomenal! This was a Christmas concert, but by special request of the worship leader, they sang this song--with no background track or background vocals. Just one of the ladies at the piano and the four on mics. No, I guess it's not technically a Christmas song--and it loses something of the drama/emotion without the music. But it meant so much to me that night. I dug it out and played it over and over, in a dark and secret place where no one could see my many tears of joy. When I became dehydrated, I turned it off and got some water. He is God and He is good.

By the way, one of the very few songs I can play on the piano is I'd Rather Have Jesus. If you didn't like the post on church music, you'll be happy to know that while these are basically the same song, and I have always loved them both, I find Avalon's to be much, much better, a vast improvement on a really great song.

I Covet Your Thoughts On Church Music.

Now don't tune me out--If you disagree, I need your influence; I want to be persuaded.

I saw the Mormon Tabernacle Choir tonight. They were excellent. I knew bass parts for most of the music, having sung for years in one of the nation's few choirs of their caliber (at HFBC). That choir no longer exists. Not that the remaining choir is not excellent. But it would take some polish to get back to that place.

Why the change? What else--the push, the drive really, all over America, to make church music more pop, more contemporary, more accessible to a crowd raised on rock and roll. And I'm not against that entirely. I agree with our pastor's slogan: "We must be spiritually deep and culturally relevant." But I'm not yet convinced that 'serious' choral music is not culturally relevant. It's a big culture, you know? Full of scholars, band geeks, music theory majors, Suzuki masters (you know who you are). Not only that, how many serious dramas come out of Hollywood with a score limited entirely to pop music? It could be argued the best storytellers in America are film directors, and how many of them would tell a powerful tale of drama or adventure without a full orchestra? And if realism is your bag, violins are no more appropriate in Middle Earth than electric guitars. Peter Jackson chose them because of the mood they create. And with all the drama in the Bible -- a battle of good and evil that exceeds even Tolkien's masterpiece -- are there no Sundays when the subject matter requires something more than guitars and reverb?

More importantly, consider what music says about God--not only in the lyrics (to which we could all pay a bit more attenton) but also in the style and dynamics. A friend dismisses some of the contemporary music that I like most with a mean phrase that is, nevertheless, apt. He calls it, 'God-is-my-girlfriend-music.' His reformed/Presbyterian crowd can tend to resist anything that smacks of contemporary pop culture, particularly if that culture is influencing the church. And what they are resisting, as I see it, is the appearance of an inappropriate coziness with God. They look at Baptists or TBN and they see people who have completely forgotten the fear of God. And what do I talk to my buddy about when we get together? Often I plead with him to remember that God is all about coziness, that He is Abba Father, He is our Shepherd, He adores us and wants to draw us to His bosom and comfort us with a gentle, quiet love. All of that is Biblical.

But when I leave my Presbyterian friend(s) I leave reminded that God is also Holy, High and Lifted Up. Sure, He is Jehovah Shammah, the One Who's Standing Near. But He is also King of Kings, the Maker of Heaven and Earth. He is Other, Separate. He is Omnipotent, Sovereign over all, whether on Earth or in the Heavenlies. And sometimes when you look at your life and the world you live in, isn't God's Sovereignty as comforting as His coziness? Isn't His big-ness as important as His tenderness?

I spent a year of college singing contemporary music in churches all over Houston. And I had fun. And I've been touched by both types of worship. Contemporary music may be best, at least for my generation(?), for nurturing a broken heart. But to inspire reverence for a God Who is Holy and Sovereign, can you beat the wonderful anthems and powerful sweeping melodies of more "traditional" church music? Or, to put it another way:

When worshipping a God who is both High and Holy and warm and cozy, don't both types of music have their place?

My Favorite Christmas Song of All Time.

That Night

That night
In all of Heaven
There wasn't a sound
As God
And the angels
Watched the Earth.
For there,
In a stable
The Father's only Son
Chose to give Himself
Through human birth.

And when the cry of a baby
Pierced the universe,
Once for all
men were shown
their worth.

And the heavens exploded,
With music everywhere.
And the angels spilled over heaven's edge
And filled the air.
And the Father rejoiced,
For He did not lose His Son,
But He gained to Himself
Forever
Those who'd come.

How many of you have heard this one? Great poetry--but you should hear it with the music. Wow. I think this may not be my favorite "Christmas song" but simply my favorite SONG. It tells such a great story. I find myself singing it all year, especially when I'm out west looking at a night of a thousand stars.

Jesus Was a Man of Joy!

How do you picture Jesus? Cold? Austere? Super-holy and righteous, with really pale skin and the frail body of one accustomed only to books and women's work? I don't. I think--to use the words of one unknown north carolinian, Jesus loved with wild abandon. He was fully immersed in this world, in ways we can't begin to understand. From his ignoble birth in a dirty animal pen, to his life on the run in Egypt, his questionable upbringing, his years of studying both His father's trade and His FATHER's Word--Jesus was busy and ENGAGED. He did not tune out and shut down, except when He retreated to be with the Father. Otherwise, Jesus was here, in the moment. And full of love.


My favorite book on the person of Christ was written by an actor. (There's an uncommon sentence.) I have read it more often than any other book. It is called, In the Footsteps of Jesus by Bruce Marchiano. This book--(click here to see the book and my 2001 review--still up at Amazon)--by an actor who played Jesus, is an incredible testimony--and in my opinion is better than the film Matthew, though I like the film too. His is my very favorite portrayal of Jesus on film; these pictures show just why. Marchiano, along with the Christian director and others, spent much time in prayer and gained tremendous insight while filming the entire book of Matthew. (The film is also available as "Jesus the Christ" in a shorter, movie-length version.)

But the greatest insight for me is from Hebrews 1:9: "He was annointed with the oil of joy above all His brethren." The writer goes on to explain his conviction that Jesus was the most joy-filled man who ever lived. And I agree. It makes sense, doesn't it? Jesus was fully engaged, in love with the people, filled with joy at the chance to heal them, at the chance to teach them and watch their faith grow. He loved them so much. Marchiano writes:

Jesus joyful--I'd never given it consideration one way or the other. Generally Jesus seemed to be presented as solemn and serenely detached, and the only place I'd ever seen Him smile was in children's Bibles. . . . Yes, Jesus smiled; yes, Jesus laughed. Jesus smiled bigger and laughed heartier than any human being who's ever walked the planet. It's been revelation to a lot of people from both in and out of the church, their eyes opening wide after lifetimes of misunderstanding the Lord to be an aloof, pious, and sanctimonious figure. . . .

He's not this overbearing, heavy handed figure waiting for someone to make a wrong move. . . . Can't you just see Him sitting on a tree stump with a giggling baby girl wrapped in His arms? What a glorious picture! I have no doubt that Jesus would have been giggling and playing and beaming with love for that little girl with all the fullness that God is.

After all, think about how you feel and act with one of your own giggling wonders wrapped in your arms. Can you even begin to measure the way your heart bubbles in a moment like that? How much more the Son of the Living God, whose love for one of His little wonders so dwarfs anything you or I can begin to feel.

As wise and perfect as He was, no one can tell me He would have suppressed all the joy in His heart and sat there insisting on reverence and piety in a moment like that. Jesus had no need to maintain some air of poise, trying to impress people with His holiness. He had no insecurities, and His holiness certainly wasn't wrapped up in outward appearances. He had nothing to prove and no reason to hold back. He was God, and He had no problem being who He fully was and fully living what He fully felt, every full moment of every full day.

And that word 'full' is really how I came to see the joy of Jesus. It wasn't so much just a smile and a laugh, for as hard as He laughed and as big as He smiled, that's how hard He wept and how deeply His heart broke.

The joy of Jesus, I discovered, was wrapped up in His living in all the fullness of life's ultimate adventure--a bigger-than-lifeness, robustness, victoriousness that comes with living 100 percent in the Father's will 100 percent of the time. . . .

With all the joy, excitement, and passion Jesus displays in Matthew, I don't think we even remotely came close! That's just how joyous, exciting, and passionate I believe Jesus truly was 2000 years ago and truly is today. As far as we went, I don't think we even came close.

Rice on Christian Art and Her Conversion--this was too good not to share.

The Narnia movie has upset some for being too Christian, and others for being too magical. You can't please everyone. But given the growing anti-Christian atmosphere, believers ought to consider the interaction of art and faith. What is art, exactly, and what is a Christian's role in creating it? John Eldredge is insightful, but never quite speaks to the issue. Anne Rice did however, on yesterday's Tavis Smiley show.

Tavis: . . . What makes Anne Rice want to write a four-[volume] novel about Christ the Lord?

Rice: I think that we as Christians are obligated to tell the story of Jesus over and over again. We're obligated to tell that story, to live that story, to enter into that story and proclaim that story. For a writer like me, this is an opportunity to write a modern novel with suspense, a plot, reality, you know, the illusion of reality, and to put the Lord in that novel and try to make him real to people maybe who never thought about him or who simply are not reading the Bible. I want to say enter into this novel and you'll believe in him.

Tavis: Can a writer even of Anne Rice's stature perhaps get into some trouble trying to "novelize" Jesus?

Rice: Well, I think all Christian artists run some risk. You know, if you paint a picture of Jesus, if you do a stained glass window with Jesus in it. Anything you do, you're going to run some risk because somebody's going to come along and say, "That's not the Lord the way I see it" or "How could you do that? How could you paint that image?" But we do that because we want to use our talents, what we have, our skills to make him real. That's our obligation. I mean, Mel Gibson did it when he made the movie, "The Passion". Zeffirelli did it with the great mini-series, "Jesus of Nazareth". I want to do it with this novel.

Tavis: Of course, in Gibson's case, he made a whole lot of money (laughter), but he got in trouble too, though.

Rice: But millions came out to see that movie and they loved it and it brought them closer to the Lord and that's what Christian art has to try to do over and over again. It has to try to bring people closer.

* * *

Finally, you must read some of Rice's testimony. After explaining why she left her childhood faith, she comes to the Vampire Chronicles:

Those books are like chronicles of pain and searching and that was me. That was me going through all this, never giving up on the idea that there was something redemptive. There was going to be art, there was going to be music. Beauty itself was going to redeem us, but I was going to find it. [Sounds like John Eldredge again, and C.S. Lewis, see Pilgrim's Regress.]

I searched everywhere. I went to Israel in the 1990's. I went to Rio de Janeiro and climbed Corcovado Mountain and stood at the foot of that great big stone Jesus with his arms out over the harbor. I was looking for God all the time, you know, searching. And the books reflect this. They reflect this journey.

Finally, what happened is I realized I wanted to go back, that I believed in God. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to go back to the altar in my own church, the banquet table. I wanted to be included again. I thought, put aside all your theological questions and your sociological questions and your history of religion questions. Put it aside, turn to God and say, "Please help me. Just help me solve all this. I want to come back to you because I know you're there", and that's what happened.

And isn't that what faith is all about?

Honey, it spilled.

If we were the odd couple, I'd be Felix Unger. I don't mind toys and clothes and papers everywhere. And stacks and stacks of books--that's urbane decor. But I'll often clean the entire kitchen before I'll eat in it. Can't stand spilled food on the floor or counter or doorknobs or anywhere. I actually will move furniture and vaccuum and scrub the table and counter, and take out the trash. Then I can sit and sip coffee. Nothing must interrupt breakfast. I can be hard to live with around the kitchen. But today was my day....

The milk was not up to my sensitive GI standards, so cereal was out. No point baking cinnamon rolls; Wendy had left several of those huge flaky Grands biscuits in a pan. So I heated them and got some coffee. The table and floor were passable, so it was all about ready. Marshall was hunched over the table, drawing his heart out the way he does. Twila was reluctantly helping Wendy with the laundry. I was looking forward to sitting and reading and pondering what I would do with an entire Saturday free.

Soon the rolls were hot. The coffee was hot. Only one thing was lacking. I found it in the cabinet. Honey. Perfect for those flaky rolls, right? But it had grown thick the way honey does. So I popped it into the microwave for "1:00." But the oven is new. And the bottle was a plastic bear, not glass or something microwave-proof. I stopped it just in time. The honey--now thin as water--was boiling. I got it out, made sure the top was flipped open to release the steam. Carried it over to the table. Set it down to cool. But the heat had grown a tumor on the bear. It seemed to sit level, but when I stepped back, it tipped over. I dashed for it. Suddenly, something thick and crystalized popped out of the squirt-top....

Have you seen what champagne does when the cork is popped out? Well, then you have no idea what this was like. Think Mount Saint Helens. Pompeii. Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Imagine a team of professional fire fighters pointing a huge spray up at a third-story window. Water flying everywhere, soaking everything, dripping from every surface. But in this case, the water immediately cooled and thickened and darkened into something between honey and molasses. And there it was--oozing. From the table, from the chairs, from the walls, the blinds, the curtains, the carpet, and the upholstered chair the Felix in me never welcomed in the kitchen in the first place.

Normally honey is tolerable--being so thick, it won't make a huge mess if it spills, right? But if you raise its temperature to 211.9--or whatever the boiling point of honey is at this low altitude--you can render it thin as water, and boy, does it spray!

Suddenly I knew what I would be doing with my Saturday.

Interview With a Vampire Chronicler: Anne Rice Meets Christ the Lord.

If you haven't heard, Anne Rice (of the Vampire Chronicles) has returned to her childhood faith. That's a story worth reading I'm sure. But her latest book may be even more remarkable. I liked the interview and article in Christianity Today, and enjoyed a very personal discussion of the author's pilgrimage on PBS tonight (12/16)--click here.

The new book is called Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt, a fictional account of Jesus' seventh year and his family's return from Egypt to Nazareth. It should be noted that it is to the Catholic church that Rice has returned, and the apocryphal gospels appear to have an influence. There is the famous scene of Jesus healing a bird, and moments when the seven-year-old wrestles to understand his ability to heal and to raise the dead, not to mention his unique birth.

At the risk of being excommunicated, I can admit this stuff doesn't threaten me. I was a Christianity major and decided years ago that Jesus never healed a dead bird or did anything else. And I love Phillip Yancey's observation in the Jesus I Never Knew. He says the miracles in the apocrypha show Jesus using His power for Himself, in exactly the sort of selfish way that He refused to use those powers when later tempted by Satan.

But a year or two ago, I was persuaded by another preacher who simply said of the wedding at Cana, "look at Mary's confidence in the power of her Son. She went to Him, knowing He could do something if He wanted to, and then she told everyone to do whatever He said." Clearly she and Jesus had confronted His power before. And why is such an idea sinful? If Jesus healed someone before the Bible's first miracle (at Cana), that does not necessarily imply that He did so in a selfish or ungodly/sinful way. (And lest you argue Mary said these things because of her faith, consider the gospel accounts of various times when Jesus was told his 'mother and brothers' had come for him--each time because they thought He was crazy and they wanted to take Him home. I'm not convinced Mary had any better understanding at any time than did the usually-confused disciples. But at the wedding in Cana she thought, I know someone who can fix this wine problem.)

Several reader/reviewers on Amazon.com complain Rice is still steeped in the occult, or she is a wolf-in-sheep's clothing. They are offended that any artist would imagine such scenes as Jesus 'wrestling' with his identity. I might have felt the same way once. But no longer.

In high school, an adult (Lee Poquette) told me about a book in which a young Jesus had to address the affections of girls, and his own interest in them. That was too much for my young mind. But years later, I am sure exactly that situation must have come up. The point is not that He didn't face tough questions, but that He who was fully man and fully God found the right answers. But being fully man, He would not just dismiss things. He would have grappled. (See Garden of Gethsemane.)

Another reviewer, calling herself a theologian, complains that Rice writes as if Herod's slaughter of the Innocents is real. (God forbid.) The alleged theologian says Matthew made it up. What bothers her is that the boy Jesus spends a few days brooding about the deaths. According to Rice, when Jesus learns about the massacre, he struggles with his own grief and compassion, and doesn't want to believe it all happened because of him.

--But is that so unbelievable? For a boy who is fully-God and fully-man?

By the way, Rice tells the story of her return to the faith in the afterword to her book. I haven't read the book, but the interviews I have read and heard satisfy me. We do not see eye-to-eye, but she's no mole from the dark side.

Rice also discusses the sorry state of modern theological education, apparently astounded to discover the faith-lessness and skepticism inherent in so-called "higher criticism," and deconstructionism. I'm not sure of all her opinions, but I agree with what I have read. Modern theology studies have nothing to do with faith, and precious little to do with common sense. What at first seems intellectual and sophisticated turns out for many of us to just be "taking a watch apart" not with a jeweller's tools, but with a mallet. And of course, few professors care to put it back together. If they destroy your faith, well, now you've been disabused of those crippling notions. ("And that is why you enrolled here, isn't it--to have your faith destroyed?)

Disclaimer: I have not seen the book, and may realize after flipping through it that I won't like it. Or I may buy it and then later become embarassed about this post. So I said all that to say, these are my thoughts, not about the book, but about the things I am reading and hearing about the book.

The Kids.

These are our children. Twila is seven and Marshall is four.

This picture was taken on our 600-acre cattle ranch in the Texas Hill Country. We try to spend our weekends there riding horses and admiring the 200 head of Black Angus. (I keep the taxes down by leasing some of the property out to run cattle.) But we haven't been up there in a while because I've been having some trouble with the Cessna. (In fact, it's been so long since we got up there, I'll be flying the sleigh up there tomorrow to mow the airstrip.)

In truth, I promised a picture to Kelly (of CarterandKelly.com, the really smooth and nicely-done blog). And while I was lying about the farm & Cessna, the kids are real. Thanks, Kelly for a good excuse to show them off. I wish I could post a link to their personalities. They are a hoot! She's a 2nd-grader, and loves to read and write stories. He's four and loves horses, balls, and clothes. For Christmas, she wants a blue bicycle. He wants an Indian bow and arrow--and everything else in the catalog! Guess who takes after whom....

Thoughts on Pontius Pilate.

His own cowardice and a separation of powers problem landed Pontius Pilate in hell's vestibule, according to Dante Allegheri. Click here. (For me, Christmas is about the 33 years, not just one night.)

Chuck Colson reviews the Narnia film.

Chuck Colson has a thoughtful review of the Narnia film. I like his column for the summary he offers of reviewers around the globe. But I dissent on one point: Colson speculates that any lack of awe we feel for Aslan may be due to the constraints of the film medium. I disagree. If the medium of film does anything well, it is its ability to inspire awe, to make ordinary people appear stunningly beautiful, to transform plumber brawn into the rippling muscles of an epic gladiator, to make kissing cowboys look "normal," etc.

Another good observation comes from a blogger named Susan.

- The book quote "battles are ugly when women fight" was instead changed to "battles are ugly" when Father Christmas explains to Susan and Lucy that they are to use their weapons only in great need. This leaves the audience wondering why he told Susan and Lucy this, but not Peter. The quote would have been better left out completely since they decided to distort it.

Whose Your Narnian Doppleganger?

"As Jewel, you are slightly stubborn and a tad head-strong, but you are valiant brave and daring. Admired for your free spirit and adventurism, you are the subject of much respect."

Okay, so I'm the unicorn. First I was Reepicheep. (You'd have to read the book to remember.) To see who you might be, click here.

Narnia Movie Review: Step Into an Enchanted World.

When the presents are all opened and the leftovers packed away, one special memory this Christmas will be the joy of having seen the film of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. (Fans of the old Houston Christmas Pageant, there is a Christmas balm in Narnia.)

It was spectacular! Rather than analyze it from some theological, philosophical, cinematic or other serious, thoughtful perspective, I write as one swept up in the magic. What a great movie. I haven't liked a movie more in years . . . on second thought, ever, including the also spectacular Lord of the Rings trilogy. (Tolkien was instumental in the conversion and writings of the once-atheist Lewis. Click here and here.)

I sat between my seven-year-old daughter (who finished the 4th-grade book just before we left) and my four-year-old son. Sure, that affected my take on it. But given the books were expressly written for children, their influence is welcome. And they both liked the movie, without being scared by the creatures, although some were nearly as scary as a few in the LOR trilogy (which the kids won't be seeing any time soon--our bed only sleeps two). We watched the BBC version in October. I found it something 'less' than spectacular.

On a more serious note, like the book, the movie does for a modern audience or fantasy reader what the Old Testament--the Old Covenant, the law, the sacrificial system--did for the Hebrew people, and likewise, for all sons of Adam. That is, the movie builds a mental framework upon which to hang the gospel story. It isn't so much that the movie shares the gospel--it does not. But it invites you into a world where the gospel story makes sense. This is a critical task, by the way, though not one you will often hear preachers discuss. Actors and writers understand it, as do literature professors, like Clive Staples. People can't accept the gospel when they are still asking questions like one I read in a British paper's review of the movie "Why did he die for me? I never asked anyone to die for me?" But that is exactly the point of Lewis's story. Lewis isn't talking about you and Jesus. I know it looks that way, like he's preaching or something. But Lewis is spinning a yarn about a bunch of kids in England. Remember? There is no Aslan, no Narnia. It's just a story. But the story has tremendous power if you'll let it get into you.

This is, of course, the power of stories. They get into you. They reroute your mind, like wagon wheels in the prairie--every story creates paths, ruts. This one makes a path that can completely change the course of your life--if you follow it.

If you're a humanist, athiest, whatever, never really understood about the gospel story--check out the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. Sure, the book is better because it takes a bit more time to address the crucial issues of the 'deeper magic' that control the actions of Aslan and the Witch. But the movie succeeds in all the ways a movie can. (By the way, see Christianity Today for a set of articles on the movie. Roger Ebert speaks very highly of the film, contrasting the film positively in relation to both the LOR and Harry Potter. Some will find Movieguide a good source for an unusally "left-brain," strictly moral review of all films--but they loved it.)

I'd also like to address concerns once raised by the most popular man not presently owning internet real estate, SPLOOSH: a year ago the savvy actor cried me a river about Disney's obtaining the rights to Narnia. He said they'd destroy all that makes Narnia special. And his comments were not unwarranted, given their commercialization and superficial treatment of other works. And as I understand it, the man naming himself for the sound of--what is it, death on the Marathon game?--was not alone in his concerns. I think (remind me, someone?) there were many people complaining and begging Disney to get it right this time. What effect protestors may have had is unknown; more important may be the huge amount of money Gibson's PASSION movie made. Money talks and Disney has managed not to waste theirs on Narnia--they'll make a mint this Christmas. And many will be brought closer to the kingsom as a result. In Narnia parlance, Aslan is on the move. (Oh, the power and awe in that phrase. What a great show!) I should further note that it is Walden Pictures, arguably a more family-friendly studio, that has the final say on the details--not Disney.

(By the way, Lewis was against a movie of his books--but that was fifty years ago. Special effects have progressed a bit.)

Finally, one of Lewis's biggest fans is an English professor at Houston Baptist University. I sat in on a class, but had graduated just before the arrival of Dr. Louis Markos. He's a wonderful teacher and has written what ought to become a big seller in the next few months, a readable, but intellectual treatment of the life and work of Jack Lewis. Friday's Houston Chronicle cited Dr. Markos in an interesting article, including his analysis of the symbolic nature of each of the Pevensie children.

Oh--and here's one SPOILER: the oompa loompa dies. :-)

Some Articles I Have Written.

By far, the greatest experience I had in law school involved writing and editing a paper on religious freedom and persecution around the world. I am still doing a lot of work on this topic. The 'prettiest' view of that paper is here, but it's a slow Adobe file. A quick and searchable view is available at the link in the next sentence.

Two other papers can best be viewed by clicking here. One involves religious freedom in the U.S. and some of the bizarre rulings fashioned by the Supreme Court in recent years. The paper focuses on the Supreme Court's ruling in the Houston-area case of Santa Fe v. Doe. You may remember that as the case in which the Court said a student-elected representative, praying a student-initiated prayer, at a non-academic, non-compulsory, after-hours function, did, nevertheless, represent a governmental establishment of religion in violation of the First Amendment.

The other paper concerns the Stark law, a maddening attempt to govern fraudulent behavior by doctors--a law so complex, the U.S. government agency charged with its execution had made little progress 13 years after its passage.

I've written a few things I like that never made it to the web. Maybe I'll scan them....

...And That Rhymes With "P" and that Stands for Pool!

"Mr. Wales, it seems we must take back that job offer we extended last week."
"Why?"
"We've had a policy change since that time." The lady digs through a stack of papers, looking for something.
"A policy change?"
"Yes. It's your criminal record, Mr. Wales."
"What criminal record?"
"It seems you have had a speeding ticket."

And with that, the Katy ISD is now closed to me. What job was I denied? School bus driver? Handicapped bus driver? Riding mower operator? No. I wanted to work as a substitute teacher.
I am a civil defense attorney and have had time on my hands lately due to tort reform. And with two children in the Katy ISD, I thought I might educate myself about the district from the inside.

And it's not as if I were unprepared for the classroom. Before law school I spent an entire year substitute teaching in a Houston-area school district. Then I became a full-time teacher and taught 12th-grade English for seven years in another local district. In addition to Who's Who books for college and graduate students, my name is listed in Who's Who Among Teachers for three different years. I know something about education. I've published works in various scholarly journals, and know something about research and writing. Further, I have coached various UIL activities and worked extensively with youth and parents in several churches. I have always had a good rapport with teenagers and thought it might be fun to get back into the classroom for a while. I would enjoy making teachers' absences something more than a total loss. And, though it may seem otherwise, students appreciate a good substitute. But, darn that life of crime.

Of course, there is only one ticket on my record, after driving over 40,000 miles this year. Nor is a speeding ticket proof of guilt; it's merely an allegation. I'll soon take defensive driving and even the allegation will disappear. But it makes no difference to Katy ISD.

What if I had applied to teach in a full-time capacity? The policy applies to teaching applicants as well. But why? Is the district tired of being inundated by qualified job applicants? Do they just hope to shrink the pool? Or do they actually consider a minor traffic violation proof of some sort of moral insufficiency? I have seen a student body buzz with discussion of two teachers living together. And then there was the newly-divorced teacher who seduced the spouse of another teacher, and the administrator who left his wife for the volleyball coach. Were any of these faculty members even questioned? No, but then--such things, regardless of their potential impact on students, are legal. I broke the law--or rather, it is alleged that I broke it.

But in my defense, I'm a Sunday school teacher and a deacon. I've been with the same lovely lady for 20 years. I am a certified teacher, a licensed attorney, a parent and Katy tax payer (see my bill for $1,500 this month!). I have never been arrested or charged with anything worse than speeding, not even as a minor. In fact, I am such a "straight arrow" all my friends make fun of me. But to the bureaucratic eyes of Katy I.S.D. (insiders had told me it was going downhill fast) I am already guilty. If the district had complained about a DWI--now that, I could understand. But I don't even drink. Yet, I am not qualified to work in the district because of a speeding ticket.

And people wonder why Johnny Can't Read.

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