After darkness, light

If you're in a church where the Bible is read, where the Bible is preached, where the congregation sings songs that are based on the truth of the Bible, where prayers are prayed in your own language and they are Biblical in content, you're in debt to all of these men. You would not have that today if it were not for these men. You wouldn't have the doctrine of justification by faith alone through grace alone in Christ alone. You probably wouldn't have the form of republican government that you enjoy right now where you're in a representative democracy. You wouldn't have the educational system that you have today without these men...it just goes on and on.

J. Ligon Duncan

This week I've been listening to a series of programs called Profiles of the Reformation from which the above quote is taken (click on this link to listen or download). South Carolinian Ligon Duncan and Welshman Derek Thomas give a fascinating and candid history lesson on some of the lesser-known Reformers -- throwing in some funny LOTR references along the way. If you go to the Reformation Wall in Geneva, Switzerland you'll see the words Post Tenebras Lux (after darkness light). Hyperbole? I don't think so. Not if you understand the depths of apostasy and corruption to which the medieval Roman church had sunk. Fundamentally, the church had lost the gospel, the very thing the Apostles taught defined and animated the Christian church. The magisterial Reformers didn't see themselves as innovators, but as prophets calling the church back to her Apostolic and Patristic roots.

I get the impression some Protestants think the Reformation was a dreadful mistake, or that it's over, that we should paper over our differences and move on. In some cases prominent evangelicals have acted on their convictions and returned to the mother church. I can see why those who've tasted the thin gruel that often passes for the Protestant faith (in both the liberal mainline and generic evangelical varieties) would cast longing looks toward Rome. Like some of them, I too want to be part of a church that's defined by something older and richer than the latest strategy from Barna. I believe the answer lies in celebrating and rediscovering our Reformation roots. So on this Reformation Day 2008 I'm thankful for Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, Beza, Bullinger, Vermigli, Tyndale, Cranmer and all the rest who gave their lives to advance the cause of a Biblical church across Europe. Though one can find few vestiges of that Biblical church in today's Europe, their legacy lives on around the world wherever Christ and his gospel are proclaimed. Soli Deo gloria!


UPDATE: Thanks to blogger extraordinaire Tim Challies for including this post in his Reformation Day Symposium. It's ok that he spelled my name wrong. I'll take the extra traffic any way I can get it!

"Here I stand. I can do no other."

Geneva, 1560

Here's a clever little bit to get you in the mood for Reformation Day. More serious posts to come tomorrow...

www.calvinus.ch

Rock the vote

Ruminations on The Thin Red Line

From Michael Atkinson:

A filmmaker is rarely if ever as free as a poet or painter might be, and a feature film never represents only the labors, and intentions, of a single artist. Acres of cineastical cant and criticism and scholarship on filmmaking and directorial authorship have been accumulated over the decades, but this is the seldom-contemplated elephant in the auteurist screening room: how many great films owe their magical essence to financial pressures? How many films succeed because the ostensible artiste at their helm was compromised, or impeded, or forced to capitulate? Under most circumstances, we as viewers can forgo any such contextual consideration; the film is the film, period, however it may have arrived in its final figuration. But what if there were two versions of, say, Citizen Kane, one linear and simplified, one twisted into the neurotic hall-of-cracked-mirrors we know today? And what if Welles's ambition had first been aimed toward the first? We are unlikely to see "alternate" versions of Malick's masterpiece, whether formally more traditional or less, but even if we do, I doubt I’ll ever surrender my ardor for the woozy, meditative, heartbroken film with which Malick ended up, whatever its provenance.

Read the whole thing

HT: Looking Closer

"Her friends refused to believe she was capable of such savagery"

The Palm Beach Post reports on the final chapter of a sordid crime story that's been in the headlines the past few days. The quote that I pulled out of the story reminded me of Chesterton's contention that the doctrine of original sin "is the only part of Christian theology which can really be proved." (Orthodoxy) Article 14 of the Belgic Confession describes original sin this way: "We believe that by the disobedience of Adam original sin has been spread through the whole human race. It is a corruption of all nature -- an inherited depravity which even infects small infants in their mother's womb, and the root which produces in man every sort of sin." Just look around you, or read the newspaper. As mysterious and unfair as it seems, original sin is the only explanation that fits the empirical evidence.

Theologians from a variety of traditions have spoken of mankind as being totally depraved. It's not just a Calvinist thing. Total depravity doesn't mean that we're all as bad as we could be (thanks be to God!) or that we're not capable of doing good, but that our potential for evil is beyond what we could imagine. R.C. Sproul suggests that "radical corruption" might be a better term to describe our condition. Every part of our being is touched by sin. This includes our mind, our will and our body. The ancient words of the prophet Jeremiah are as true today as they were back then. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?" Where the human heart is concerned, don't be surprised to be surprised.

A vain hope

Our eyes failed, ever watching
vainly for help;
in our watching we watched
for a nation which could not save.

Lamentations 4:17

One of the indictments brought against Israel and Judah by the LORD was that they looked to political alliances for their salvation instead of looking to him. This is a recurring theme throughout the Old Testament prophets. For a great example of this see Isaiah 30. In the passage above the prophet of Lamentations (probably Jeremiah) paints a picture of complete futility. Can you hear echoes of Jeremiah 2:13? "For my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water." This is a warning to us as Christians "the Israel of God" not to repeat the sin of placing our hope in a nation -- even our own.

Passion on the Ave.

Judging from the popularity of a certain reality TV series America is crazy for dancing. However, for dancing minus the celebrities and judges get yourself down to Klein Dance on Lake Avenue in downtown Lake Worth. Here the dedicated dancers of the Demetrius Klein Dance Company demonstrate their passion and professionalism every time the lights go down. There's something exciting about being so close to a labour of love like this. And you are close! Performances take place in a wonderful rectangular space with long benches set up against one wall. The barrier between audience and performer is practically non-existent. If you're in the front row, you may find yourself pulling in your legs for fear of inadvertently tripping one of the dancers as they whiz by.

Last night Shannon and I caught weekend 3 of their current Fall Festival. The program was a nice cross-section of what they do so well. The evening opened with an imagined reconstruction of the great Nijinsky's Afternoon of a Faun which was inspired by the Mallarmé poem Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune and the well-known Debussy composition of the same name. As dancer Justin Walker explained in an informal Q & A afterwards, all that's left of Nijinsky's choreography are some poses from still photos which were incorporated into his performance. Next up was "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth" from Handel's Messiah. Choreographing Handel's oratorio for modern dancers ("liturgical dance" he's called it) has been a life's passion for company founder Demetrius Klein -- called "Meech" by his legions of students and friends. "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth" is a duet that gracefully blends elements of ballet and modern dance. There's also subtle allusion and allegory for those alive to the significance of Handel's text. For now is Christ risen from the dead, the firstfruits of them that sleep.

After a brief intermission the full company minus one attacked a virtuoso piece of modern dance called Light in the House. A twenty-minute adrenaline rush -- or was it longer? time recedes to the background when swept up in an art form this visceral -- it combined complex synchronicity featuring the entire group and improvisational-seeming duets and solos. I say seeming because none of it is off the cuff, but is the result of hours of development and rehearsal. Last night's rendition was accompanied by a pounding industrial score from a band associated with modern dance icon Merce Cunningham (I can't remember the name of the band). It had elements that reminded me of John Cage, Sigur Rós and tango. It would be wrong to say that they dance to the music though, since the same piece is rehearsed to a wide variety of music...or perhaps even rehearsed in silence. The explosive impetus of the live performance is driven by the dancers' cues to each other and internal sense of timing. The result is visual poetry.

DKDC on the web

Another take on W.

Redeyespy -- audiologist by day, film critic by night -- checks in with a fine essay.

Read it here

Faulkner goes noir

The story goes that when Howard Hawks found out Ernest Hemingway was having money troubles he provocatively claimed that he could take Hemingway's worst novel and make a good movie out of it. Hemingway took the bait and asked what that would be. Hawks named To Have and Have Not, a 1937 novel about a blackmarket smuggler who runs human contraband between Key West and Cuba. Hemingway sold him the rights and in late 1943 veteran scenarist Jules Furthman wrote the first draft. According to Faulkner biographer Joseph Blotner, Warner Brothers balked at Furthman's treatment for political reasons. "A film about an American who smuggled rum and revolutionaries between Havana and Key West, and in which the Cuban flag was raised, would deeply embarrass the government." Hawks brought in his friend William Faulkner to do a re-write. Faulkner changed the location to French Martinique and added an anti-Vichy element which would go over better with studio execs and wartime audiences. More importantly he condensed two female characters into one. "Slim" would be the star-making role for leggy 19-year-old Lauren Bacall. Her pairing with Casablanca star Humphrey Bogart would create one of the great movie duos onscreen and an enduring romance off. Has any actor looked at a woman the way Bogie looks at Bacall in To Have and Have Not and The Big Sleep? I think not.

To Have and Have Not was well received, though most of the credit went to Hawks. Still, it was a positive experience for Faulkner after a long season of what he considered hackwork. The Big Sleep was a labyrinthian 1939 crime novel by Raymond Chandler that introduced one of the archetypical characters of American fiction -- Philip Marlowe. Jack Warner was eager for another vehicle to showcase Bogie & Bacall, so Hawks successfully pitched the idea of adapting Chandler. Of course Bogart would play Marlowe and Bacall would play the femme fatale. Bogart's Marlowe would be one of many -- and arguably the greatest -- screen interpretations of this character. I also like Elliot Gould's early 70s take on Marlowe in Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye. Hawks again enlisted Faulkner to write the screenplay (with newcomer Leigh Brackett riding shotgun) and gave him his marching orders, "It's not supposed to be a great work of art...just keep it going."

As they began dramatizing this story about Philip Marlowe, Chandler's tough private eye, Leigh Brackett found herself completely in awe of her co-worker in the adjoining office. He laid out the work in alternate sections, and she would remember his turning out "masses of material, but his dialogue did not fit comfortably the actors' mouths and was often changed on the set. Amazingly (to me, after breaking my teeth on some of his novels) he was a master at story-construction." One morning when she entered his office he offered her a cup of the very black and strong coffee from the pot he kept hot. She noticed, to her surprise, that he was reading the Bible. Although he could well have picked it up to read the New Testament for the fable, what he mentioned was the Old Testament. He smiled. "I always enjoy reading about the rainbow-colored backside of God," he told her.*

The world inhabited by Philip Marlowe was miles apart from Yoknapatawpha County, but Faulkner took to the material. Hawks, Faulkner and Brackett struggled mightily to make Chandler's convoluted plot intelligible to audiences (I've watched it several times and still haven't figured it out), but any failings were more than made up for by the terrific dialogue and performances. How much of the finished product was Faulkner's is hard to say, but no doubt he made a huge contribution to one of the greatest "noir" detective films ever. In 1997 The Big Sleep was inducted into the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress.

As interesting as Faulkner's time in Hollywood was, we all know his genius lay elsewhere. So did he. While he worked on The Big Sleep he told Meta Carpenter, "Sometimes I think if I do one more treatment or screenplay, I'll lose whatever power I have as a writer." In December of 1944 he finished the last changes on a train back to Mississippi. He enclosed a note. "The following rewritten and additional scenes for The Big Sleep were done by the author in respectful joy and happy admiration after he had gone off salary and while on his way back to Mississippi." He would have been happy if that was his last farewell to Hollywood, but there would be more "sojourns in Babylon" as he put it. Later on he would sell the screen rights to several of his novels for handsome sums, including The Sound and the Fury. One wonders if this was a perverse sort of revenge. The resulting 1959 adaptation starring Yul Brynner and Joanne Woodward was a risible disaster. Faulkner couldn't care less. When a reporter asked him if he'd be at the world premiere in Jackson, Faulkner pointedly said no, and added "that his contract specifically stated that he did not have to read the screenplay or see the picture." William Faulkner was finally through with Hollywood for good.


*All of the quotes and most of the material in this series was borrowed from Faulkner: A Biography by Joseph Blotner