Graduate 62: The Greatest Story

Must every story have a point? Must you always search for a meaning to undergird the plot and dialogue? Can't you just sit back and enjoy a good story? These sorts of questions were posed to me variously in the course of my recent reflections, but they are not new to me. I have often wondered about this habit I have cultivated of probing books, movies, and plays for worldview themes.

The question is at least as old as the modern novel and touches on a more general issue--whether books or stories should accomplish some work outside of strictly entertaining (or diverting) the reader. Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol is a classic example of a literary work that motivated social change. Since ancient times, stories have preserved and grounded the identity of the story-teller's people. But is it necessary or important that a story perform either these or any other socio-cultural functions?

In the following material, I will attempt to argue that the best stories connect the reader to a True Reality beyond him/herself I will also suggest that stories that fail to do so can be dangerous and destructive. Meaning is important, and where it is either lacking or confusing, there is little of value and much of which to be apprehensive.

A few clarifying remarks before I continue: (1) I am not qualified to write on this topic inasmuch as I lack the scholarly and literary qualifications to do so. These are just my musings. (2) If it should be found that certain books fall into my "undesireable" category, I am not saying that they should not be read or that I would not, myself, read them. (3) I am going to attempt to draw a connection between stories, myth, and life about which even I have only the barest grasp. There most definitely are other ways of approaching literature and narrative and I do not pretend to have evaluated all these different approaches. (4) By no means am I advocating broad censorship of any kind. (5) If anything sounds unduly "extreme," please grant me the benefit of the doubt. Writing about complicated issues in short spaces is hard.

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As we live our lives, we are constantly presented with the fundamental tension that exists between "the way things are" and "the way things ought to be."

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Having got one sentence into my essay, let me now stop to clarify these concepts. Because there are some who would argue that there is no such thing as "the way things ought to be." They would say that there just is "the way things are."

So consider this example: as we live life, we find that sometimes good triumphs and sometimes evil triumphs. Sometimes criminals are apprehended, sometimes they are not. Sometimes good things happen to good people; sometimes bad things happen to good people. This is the way things are. But is that the way things ought to be?

Most of us would instinctively answer: No, that is NOT the way things ought to be. Good is supposed to triumph. Criminals should be apprehended. And good people should not suffer bad things.

Notice the tension with which these conclusions leave us. We live in a world of "injustice," but we constantly desire "justice." If the world was unjust and we had no expectation that it should be otherwise, than all would be well (in one sense). We would simply accept that it is unjust and try to get by as best we could. If the world was perfectly just, according to our expectations, that would be fine as well. But in this world, we see and experience "injustice"; we desire "justice" but that desire remains unfulfilled.

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Now for those who embrace only "the way things are" and deny "the way things ought to be," there is only the reality of the world's injustice. Sometimes good wins; sometimes evil wins. And if that is all there is, the question that naturally follows is: Why should I try to do good? Why should I sacrifice my happiness on behalf of others? Why should I do anything more or less than what I want to do right now for my own personal gratification and whatever it takes to achieve my personal satisfaction?

In order to argue effectively that someone should do good, even when he doesn't want to, feel like it, or find it convenient, one must appeal to a truth or reality that transcends "the way things are." This is just what disciples of Jesus do. According to the Biblical revelation, the world as we experience it now is not the way it ought to be; instead, it is fallen. In the beginning God created a perfect world, but Adam and Eve rebelled against God. The result is a universe that no longer reflects God's perfect order and justice in its every aspect. But that is not the end; even now, God is in the process of redeeming and restoring the cosmos. One day, it will be made perfect again. The scales will be balanced. Good and evil will each have receives their just and proper rewards. So we should live our lives in preparation for that final day when all the universe will be set right. Our current (dis-)order that we experience, of "sometimes good/sometime evil" will not last. But God's reign will.

Now, notice what I have just done. As part of my defense of why one ought to do good and not evil (and in order to explain the apparent tension that we all experience) I have told a story. Specifically, I have told a story that encompasses, not only the unseen present reality, but also the past and future reality. Now this is key. In Graduate 56: Embracing Reason, Part 3 of 3, I talked about how important it is to be able to step outside of one's immediate experience in order to know truth. If our knowledge base is limited to what we are currently experiencing, then we cannot hope to make wise choices about life.

On a smaller scale, one's desire to eat an extra piece of chocolate cake (with the expectation of enjoyment resulting therefrom) may be tempered by one's past experience of the negative effects of over-eating. Or one may have heard of other's negative experiences. Or one may have received a doctor's recommendation in the matter. But in any one of these cases, notice, one is drawing upon more than one's immediate experiences and desires. On a slightly larger scale, one's desire to lie on a tax return in order to get a slightly larger refund check (immediate gratification) may be tempered by a proper appreciation of the long-term consequences that might follow from such action. On the largest scale, our actions today can be most accurately assessed only in light of the ultimate reality and background of eternity.

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The Biblical picture of God's perfect and just reign, that I described, may be usefully labeled "the way things ought to be." That is, when compared to the way things are, as we experience them in our day-to-day lives, God's justice falls into the category of "the way things ought to be." But we might also describe it as "the way things once were," "the way things will be," and even, "the way things really are right now," because there is a significant way in which God's justice is being worked out and brought into its fullness even in the present moment, though we often don't see it.

So we live in a world where, to all appearances and in all our experience, sometimes good wins and sometimes evil wins--i.e. injustice. Now, if that's all there is, then there is no reason to pursue good. In fact, "good" and "evil" lose their objective meanings altogether.

[This is, at once, the fundamental flaw (perhaps, death blow) of Manicheaism and a great cause for giving thanks and praise to God for the revelation of His ultimate victory. Notice, it is not enough for "justice" that good triumphs some of the time or even most of the time. If even one act of evil remains unpunished or one act of good goes unrewarded, then the very idea of "justice" is undermined. Justice and goodness must be perfect or they simply are not.]

If we are to convince people that there is something more than just "the way things are," the only way to do so is to connect them to the past, the future, and to the unseen present reality. And we do that through story. Again, in ancient cultures (and still, in many cultures today) stories are the repository of a people's identity--telling them where they came from, who they are, what their purpose is, and what is their destiny. Take the example of a child who wants to become an astronaut. If she is ever to achieve that goal, it will not be enough for her to focus on her immediate situation as a fourth-grader. Instead, she must look to the unrealized future and live for that future. She must tell a story of how she will reach that goal, and then enact that story in her life. If she focuses only on "the way things are" and not "on the way things ought to be" or "the way things will be" then she will never realize her potential.

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So I will divide stories into two types: those that reflect "the way things are" and those that reflect "the way things ought to be." It is the latter that I believe are good and valuable. The former are essentially uninteresting or even dangerous. Consider the classic fairy-tale, Cinderella. A virtuous young lady, abused by her cruel step-mother and two ugly step-sisters, through a series of providential events, is wed to the prince of the land and lives happily ever after. The story is entirely unrealistic. All mean people are not ugly. And all virtuous women do not marry the richest, most powerful man in the land. And no one, in this life on earth, ever lives happily ever after.

But to draw such a conclusion is just to misunderstand the point of the story. Cinderella is not about a real woman in real life. Instead, it is about the ultimate reality and the future reality. It is very true that, in this life on earth, no one lives happily ever after. But there is a future time when that will be true. When the Cinderellas of the world will live happily ever after. The story is supposed to inspire hope and inspire children to model their lives on the virtuous Cinderella. Notice, if you just dismiss the tale as unrealistic, then the child reader no longer has any reason to pursue virtue instead of vice--to follow the example of Cinderella and not the step-sisters.

This is the main problem with Disney sequels. Cinderella 1 ends: And they lived happily ever after. But Cinderella 2 begins: Actually they didn't. [By the way, I've never actually seen Cinderella 2, so this is somewhat conjectural.] In creating part two, the Disney story-writers sabotage part one. Part one is supposed to be about the ultimate triumph of good over evil. But by introducing a new conflict in part two, part one becomes just another story about how a virtuous girl was lucky enough to win this round But what will happen in the next match? The end is, once again, uncertain.

When you tell a story about the ultimate triumph of good over evil, you inspire people to move toward and do the good. When you tell a story about the sometimes-good-winning/sometimes-evil-winning, you don't inspire them to do anything. In fact, you may even encourage them to shun good, especially when it is inconvenient, unpleasant, or un-beneficial to the attainment of their personal goals. Even where the ending is "happy," if that happiness is not attached to true goodness, it only reinforces negative thought-patterns and associations in the minds of the reader/audience.

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This is true of stories. It is also true of real life. If the evening news focuses on crimes, political division, corruption, pain, etc. how will that affect the television-viewer. I'm not suggesting that the news should be sugar-coated or sanitized, but consider: does the blend of good and bad stories on the news really reflect the number of good and bad things that are really going on in the world. If, as seems often to be the case, the news reports mostly the bad things that are going, how will that affect the audience's perception of the world. Will they be inspired to expend time, effort, and energy to fight against evil, decay, apathy, corruption, hurt, pain, etc.?

But, you may ask, if we report a blend of good and bad things in the news, doesn't that just reinforce the pattern of sometimes-good-winning/sometimes-bad-winning? Actually, no. It is true that, from a "this world" perspective, the fact that sometimes good wins and sometimes evil wins naturally leads to an undermining of the very concepts of good and evil. There is a natural downward spiral toward extreme relativism and nihilism.

But from the larger perspective of the ultimate reality and backdrop of eternity, we can see that every isolated instance of goodness is a kind of "inbreaking" (or "enactment") of the ultimate goodness that will reach fullness and completeness at the end of all things. None is perfect in and of itself, but, viewed correctly, each is a pointer and guide to the true source of justice and goodness Who will restore all things and reign supreme forever and ever.

[This is part of why all sequels are not bad. The destruction of the Death Star in episode IV loses none of its power because of episodes V and VI. I think sequels are bad for Cinderella because its a different genre.]

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A few concluding thoughts:

(1) Am I denying that there is any value in a book that does not reflect "ultimate reality"? Not necessarily. There is nothing wrong with reading a story that is just fun or interesting. But if it is not for some larger purpose (or if you are deriving nothing larger from it), then the question may be raised: Why are you reading it? If you read interesting books just in order to get away from your otherwise uninteresting life, then that may reflect an unhealthy form of escapism. Our culture is ever-scrambling to find the latest novelty, the newest thrill, the biggest high. The draw for entertainment and diversion is, for many, an addiction. Even the most intense action-thrillers become blasé by the second viewing. Where will we turn next to satisfy our craving for thrills.

A meaning-filled story inspires the reader to find meaning and significance in his or her real life. An simply-entertaining story inspires the reader to find more simply-entertaining stories because they are more entertaining than his or her life.

(2) I already made reference to Graduate 56: Embracing Reason, Part 3 of 3 in which I discuss the importance of looking for knowledge outside of immediate experience. A passage from 2 Peter also reminded me of this point recently. Notice that Peter emphasizes how the people should live in light of the future reality. He writes at the end of his letter:

"This is now, beloved, the second letter I am writing to you in which I am stirring up your sincere mind by way of reminder, that you should remember the words spoken beforehand by the holy prophets and the commandment of the Lord and Savior spoken by your apostles. Know this first of all, that in the last days mockers will come with their mocking, following after their own lusts, and saying, "Where is the promise of His coming? For ever since the fathers fell asleep, all continues just as it was from the beginning of creation." For when they maintain this, it escapes their notice that by the word of God the heavens existed long ago and the earth was formed out of water and by water, through which the world at that time was destroyed, being flooded with water. But the present heavens and earth by His word are being reserved for fire, kept for the day of judgment and destruction of ungodly men. But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.
"But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar and the elements will be destroyed with intense heat, and the earth and its works will be burned up. Since all these things are to be destroyed in this way, what sort of people ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness, looking for and hastening the coming of the day of God, on account of which the heavens will be destroyed by burning, and the elements will melt with intense heat! But according to His promise we are looking for new heavens and a new earth, in which righteousness dwells. Therefore, beloved, since you look for these things, be diligent to be found by Him in peace, spotless and blameless, and regard the patience of our Lord to be salvation; just as also our beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom given him wrote to you, as also in all his letters, speaking in them of these things, in which are some things hard to understand, which the untaught and unstable distort, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures, to their own destruction. You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, be on your guard lest, being carried away by the error of unprincipled men, you fall from your own steadfastness, but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory, both now and to the day of eternity. Amen." (2 Peter 3)

(3) The promise of this future hope--of a reality that is still unseen--is a great comfort to me personally in this time. As I prepare to transition to UC Riverside, I am sometimes acutely aware of the chapter that is closing in my life. It is not a total severing in many cases, but there are people of whom I will see much less--friends I have grown to love who will no longer be near and accessible. Sometimes my heart comes near to breaking from the pain of that separation. Estrangement is a terrible reality that we constantly have to live with. Friends come and friends go. And if that's all there is, then I cannot justify building relationships, investing in other people, putting my heart on the line for people only to have it dashed in the end by the merciless waves of time.

Over and over I must return to the promises of Scripture and the hope that is told there, of a time and place when and where there will be no more separation, no more good-byes, no more estrangement. Time and space will be no barrier. Our times of wandering will be at an end and we will be, at last, home.

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Truly,
God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.

Graduate 61: Embracing Gravity, Part 2 of 2

Embracing Gravity: A Critical Engagement with the Musical, Wicked. Part Two.

I'm a fool. That's the conclusion that I've finally come to regarding my opinions about Wicked. Well, sort of. So think about this: have you ever had the experience of reading a complicated philosophy text in which the author describes a number of different views of a given issue, and sometimes it's difficult to keep track of which view the author is actually defending? So you're reading about one view and you think to yourself, I completely disagree with this view (and, by extension, the author), only to realize later that the author also disagrees with it?

This is exactly what has happened to me regarding Wicked. In the first half of the musical, he presented a particular view of the world. This troubled me a great deal because I disagreed, fundamentally, with the view that he presented. And it has taken me all this time to realize that the whole point of the second half is to point out the unviability of the view presented in the first half. So while I was troubled by the author's presenting that view in the first half, it turns out that he did so just so he could reject that very view in the second half (and so end up being in agreement with me).

Alright, now, even that characterization does not completely accurately capture my relationship to the worldview presented in this musical. So without further ado, I shall begin to unpack the major themes of the musical. WARNING: THERE ARE PLOT-SPOILERS IN THE MATERIAL TO FOLLOW. If you have not already seen the show and do not want to know what happens before seeing it onstage, in all its brilliant glory, then do not read on. Hereafter I may freely treat, as an operating assumption, that the reader has seen Wicked.

--

Wicked is billed as "The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz" and tells of the events leading up to and surrounding the original film, The Wizard of Oz, from a slightly "different" perspective.

Elphaba (the Wicked Witch of the West) is not altogether wicked as so many believe. Instead, she began like any other girl, except that she had green skin and suffered from ridicule and disparagement related thereto. Through a (fateful) coincidence, she becomes closely attached to and friends with Glinda (the Good Witch of the North) whom she meets at Shiz University. Glinda is the most popular girl in school, coming from a family of wealth and reputation; she positively revels in the attention and esteem that she receives from her peers.

But simple University drama turns serious as Elphaba becomes aware of a growing and disturbing trend in the land of Oz. She learns from one of her tutors, Dr. Dillamond (a goat) that animals are being silenced throughout the land of Oz. Says, Dr. Dillamond:

"I've heard of an Ox,
A professor from Quox,
No longer permitted to teach--
Who has lost all powers of speech.
And an Owl in Munchkin Rock,
A vicar with a thriving flock,
Forbidden to preach.
Now he can only screech!"

"Something bad is happening in Oz." Dr. Dillamond, himself, becomes a victim of prejudice and hate, is dismissed from the University by Ozian officials, and eventually does lose all powers of speech. Other animals are caged as infants (a procedure that prevents them from ever developing speech abilities at all). They are systematically silenced, denied their basic rights, treated as second-class citizens (or worse), and made the "scapegoat" of all the problems that face the land of Oz.

And here is my first question: Who are the animals? That is, if there is a message with application to our contemporary situation embedded within this story, then it becomes very important to identify what group of people are represented by the animals. But doing so is more complicated than might at first seem to be the case, as I realized and described in part one. Still, there is a recognizable juxtaposition between an "oppressed minority" and "oppressive majority" that comes across very clearly. Moreover, as the plot unfolds, it becomes evident that the maltreatment of the animals is absolutely unwarranted and irrational. There is no good or valid reason to treat them as enemies. The wizard even confesses to Elfeba that he turned the people of Oz against the animals only to unify them in a common cause and so end the disorder that had been overwhelming the kingdom.

These factors combine to make even more extreme the difference between Elphaba and the other characters--her peers, the people of Oz, and even Glinda. Elphaba is thoughtful, informed, and thinks critically and carefully. The characteristic that so many of the Ozians share is a shallow thoughtlessness. The students don't expend the effort or energy to actually think carefully about the lessons they are taught. The country-folk swallow, uncritically, whatever they are told by the authorities. And Glinda is driven solely by the pursuit of popularity; she will do nothing that puts her at odds with the opinion of the masses. The general intellectual climate is expressed in a song that introduces Fiyero:

"Dancing through life,
Skimming the surface,
Gliding where turf is smooth.
Life's more painless
For the brainless.
Why think too hard
When it's so soothing,
Dancing through life?
No need to tough it
When you can sluff it off as I do."

When Elphaba chooses to defy convention and come to the defense of the persecuted animals, she is immediately vilified, deemed deviant, and denounced as "wicked." Elphaba's turn happens at the climax of the first half, to the tune of "Defying Gravity" in which she says:

"Something has changed within me;
Something is not the same.
I'm through with playing by the rules
Of someone else's game.
Too late for second-guessing,
Too late to go back to sleep.
It's time to trust my instincts;
Close my eyes, and leap!

It's time to try defying gravity
I think I'll try defying gravity
And you can't pull me down!

I'm through accepting limits,"

--

So there were two key aspects of the first half that really disturbed me. One has to do with the oppressed minority/oppressive majority juxtaposition. Such a juxtaposition is not, in and of itself problematic, but I am concerned that it may be uncritically accepted and so reinforce problematic patterns of thought in audience-members minds. (See part one) The other has to do with Elphaba's rejection of of "limits." Now, one of my friends did point out to me that this need not be interpreted as a rejection of all limits, but given the contemporary American cultural climate, the very possibility of such an interpretation still disturbs me.

We live in a culture where, increasingly, anything that interferes with the absolute and unmitigated exercise of personal autonomy (and, I might add, the selfish pursuit of personal gratification) is deemed oppressive. To say that a person cannot or ought not to do something is to impose, inappropriately, one's beliefs on another individual. The right to define, for oneself, what it means to be a human being and live the good life, is more and more taken for granted. Thus, Elphaba's decision to defy the majority, to think for herself, to follow her own rule and way, to stop playing by the rules "of someone else's game," resonates strongly with this audience. I have one friend who practically made "Defying Gravity" her personal theme-song.

But is this a viable way to live life? Are all limits oppressive? (Again, I realize that one need not necessarily interpret Elphaba as rejecting all limits, but I do think the justification for drawing out this "arch-theme" is present in the musical.)

[How does one distinguish between healthy/necessary limits and harmful/oppressive limits? Elphaba is an excellent model of the wise individual in this regard--she reads, pays attention in school, thinks critically, studies history. The irony is that the audience is led to agree with Elphaba's view, but not in the same way. The audience does not study, read Ozian history, or think critically about the issues that surround the oppression of the animals. They just accept the facts as they are presented in the musical. In this sense, they are actually more like the Ozians than Elphaba. This is part of the nature of dramatic narrative (see part one), but it is also something worth thinking carefully about; how many audience members left the musical with a renewed commitment to study history and current events? Was anyone inspired to buy a history book or read the newspaper in order to be informed about all the complicated issues that face our society?]

If I were to carry on with the central analogy, I might point out that gravity is actually a good thing. In fact, flight doesn't make sense in a world without gravity. In fact, gravity makes flight possible (think airplanes and variable air-pressure). So if the audience simply accepts the rejection of limits and does not think carefully about why they are being rejected (and if the musical does not present the material necessary for them to critically make that evaluation/determination), then there may be serious cause for worry about the worldview being presented in Wicked.

--

The uncritical way in which the audience might accept and embrace the theme of defying gravity (like my friend who practically made it her personal theme-song) is the main reason for my deep concern about that theme. However, I am a "fool," as I said at the beginning of this entry, because it has taken me probably two-to-three weeks of musing to realize that the musical, itself, actually also rejects this theme. The second half is all about how Elphaba tries to live life rejecting gravity only to discover that she can't.

Elphaba goes on her crusade to free the animals, but her unconventional methods are vilified and she is, in the eyes of all her fellow country-men, wicked and evil. She tries to do good and play by her own rules and the results are disastrous and catastrophic. Finally she reaches the end of herself and is forced to acknowledge that "I'm limited." But she still cannot return to the way things were. She cannot close her eyes to the manifest evils that she has recognized. Her only remaining option is death.

And I do not say that crassly. Her journey actually follows a recognizable arch-pattern. She begins in a world that embraces basic essentialism: things are what they are--good, bad, wicked. But she discovers that that is all a lie. The Wizard even tells her that morality is only a convention.

"Elphaba, where I'm from, we believe all sorts of things that aren't true. We call it... history.

A man's called a traitor--or liberator.
A man's a thief--or philanthropist.
Is one a crusader--or a ruthless invader?
It's all in which label
Is able to persist.
There are precious few at ease
With moral ambiguities,
So we act as though they don't exist."

So she embraces existentialism. She chooses to define her own reality and operate on no one else's terms. But without a solid frame of reference--without "limits"--she finds that human existence becomes incoherent and life becomes unlivable. [WARNING: BIGGEST PLOT SPOILER TO FOLLOW.] And so Elphaba makes the final shift to nihilism and death. I have heard that, in Winnie Holzman's novel, Elphaba remains dead at the end of the story. The fact that, in the musical, she stays alive by a clever ruse, actually disrupts the natural flow of the story (though it makes the audience very happy).

So even though the first half treats oppression naively and the second half embraces moral relativism (both of which are problematic), the overall point of the musical is just that neither of these is really viable as a way of living life--and I agree with that conclusion!

--

What a strange journey I've had. I began being shocked and disturbed by the themes of this musical. Now I see those very themes as blending together to form just the kind of critique that I could embrace.

But I still worry. Wicked is billed as "The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz." The basic premise of the story undermines the accepted view that the Witch of the West is wicked and, in doing so, generates an ambiguity that didn't exist before. And since the essentialist-existentialist-nihilist pattern is disrupted by Elphaba's not dying, the audience is left with a second fundamentally-problematic ambiguity.

[I will deal with this second ambiguity in a separate blog about the nature of stories and myth. In that blog I may or may not directly treat the connection to Wicked, so this does end the actual Wicked series.]

But whenever I worry about people simply accepting this new, previously-unknown version of the story, I am reminded of Glinda's comment in one of her few astute and sensitive moments (paraphrasing): "Just because it's a secret, doesn't mean it's true."

--

So that wraps up my reflection on the musical, Wicked. Those who have actually read to the very end get to hear me acknowledge that I was too hasty in my initial assessment of the musical. That is unfortunate and embarrassing to say. Coupled with Graduate 59, it seems to indicate a disturbing trend. But I will continue to think and write and make corrections where necessary/appropriate.

I hope that I have not spoiled (in the sense of undercutting the enjoyable memory of) the musical for anyone. I hope that those who see it (again--since many people are seeing it multiple times) will take seriously its thematic content.

Thank you to those who followed this interesting journey.

Blessings all,

--

God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.

Graduate 60: Tea advertisement

Here we have another complete diversion from what you may have been expecting. But don't worry. I'll get back to Wicked eventually.

Last night I saw the most hilarious commercial for Snapple-Earl Grey Tea on television. Here's the link to YouTube where you can view it.

Snapple - Earl Grey British Tea Advert - Funny!!

Part of the funniness (maybe you had to be there) was that I walked into the living room just at the moment when the young guy said, "...what's so important about Earl Grey?" And a very loud, "Whaaaaat?" exploded from my lips in response. (All my close APU friends know exactly what that "Whaaaaat?" sounds like and will be able to visualize the moment.) Oh, and, it must have been a shortened version of the commercial that was airing when I saw it, because I definitely do not remember that "Knock-his-knickers-off-anyway" part.

When you watch the video, you can also find "related" videos of Twinings tea commercials, which are also very funny (but do contain potentially-objectionable language and suggestive content. I try to keep my blog G-rated).

Hoping you have a blessed and laughter-filled day,

--

God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.

Graduate 59: Embracing Gravity, Interlude: BIAS!

This is not the official "part two" of my series on the musical, "Wicked." But I decided that it was necessary to insert this entry before continuing with the worldview analysis.

In part one, I mentioned that "When I first began drafting this blog, I came on very strong (perhaps even condemnatory). The tone has been, I think, decidedly softened since I discussed my views with a close friend and revised this entry." I have continued to think about that discussion and others that I've since had. The end result of these conversations has been the recognition, on my part, of a deep-seated bias that has colored my thinking about this musical and in general.

The result of this recognition (actually two distinct "recognitions") is that part two will be substantially revised. But rather than pretend that the final draft of "part two" that you read reflects the way I have always thought, I have decided to incorporate into that entry pertinent material related to the revising process. More specifically, that entry will deal with the "second recognition."

And, in this entry, I have decided to write a bit about bias and the "first recognition."

--

I was first confronted with my bias (not for the first time in my life, but for the first time related to the material being discussed) after a Sunday-morning sermon. I saw Wicked on a Tuesday and, as I hinted earlier, was initially quite upset by it. The Sunday immediately following, I visited a new church with some friends, including one friend to whom I had described my concerns about Wicked. The sermon, that morning, was about "God's intention for the family," and, unfortunately, it was not very good. The topic, itself, is highly controversial in our contemporary day and age, when gender roles, marriage laws, and the very definition of family are all being hotly contested. In addition, the pastor's treatment of these issues was not very thorough and not very "sensitive." He was very dismissive, even "glib," in his handling of what are, for many, deeply personal matters. I could see these problems, but was not deeply-affected by them, a point that disquieted my friend. And so she asked me later, "How is it that you could be so upset by Wicked and yet not phased at all by that sermon?"

I was thoroughly caught off guard by the question and found myself scrambling for excuses--some of which have legitimacy and will be discussed below, but none of which could negate the ultimate conclusion that I was forced to face: I was biased.

Now bias is not, in and of itself, a bad thing. Bias just reflects a preference or predisposition in favor of one thing over another. Biases are a natural part of navigating life, making decisions, etc. They are formed by what we see and hear, as well as by the choices that we make. In fact, there is no such thing as an "unbiased person," as far as I'm concerned, and that's okay. Where the danger arises is when a person is unreflectively biased, when she holds certain views or opinions without knowing how or why.

Did I betray "unreflective bias" in this instance? Why was I not "phased" by the sermon? Well, actually I was phased. I was troubled by the material and presentation. But a number of factors restrained me from commenting on it in the same way that I commented on Wicked.

(1) I suspect that more people (especially in my peer group) are going to listen for and recognize problems with sermons than problems with musicals. Thus, in pointing out one and not the other, I am attempting to correct or compensate for an imbalance (a bias) that exists in the minds of many young people. [Or I it may simply be that I do not feel the need to goad them on in a direction they are already moving.]

(2) I want to be as charitable as I possibly can be toward a pastor who is making a sincere effort to lead his flock. And as a visitor, insofar as I am ignorant of the many distinctives that characterize his congregation, I am not in an optimal position to judge how effective his message is at communicating solid truth to his audience.

(3) My position is made still more awkward by the fact that, though I may object to the pastor's presentation, I am actually in agreement with the basic positions that he is articulating. It is notoriously difficult to criticize the messenger without (at least, sounding like I am) criticizing the message.

Now the three reasons that I have just listed will probably strike readers differently. One man's "charitable allowance" is another man's "culpable compromise." And, frankly, a genuine problem is a genuine problem and should be treated as such regardless of circumstances. As I thought about it, it occurred to me that when I have children, I want them to be able to think critically about musicals as well as sermons. The church should hold itself to a high standard of excellence and integrity. And maybe I am guilty of making allowances, especially in areas that are familiar or comfortable to me, in order to not "make waves" around those who are closest to me.

Actually, I should cut out the "And maybe" from that last sentence. I am guilty of making those allowances and avoiding those conflicts. But how should I change? I think that it is not at all easy to formulate a comprehensive method for dealing with instances of objectionable material. Is confrontation always necessary or appropriate? Under what circumstances should confrontation take place? In whose company? How do gentleness, charity, and respect fit into how we deal with people with whom we disagree? There simply is no hard, fast rule to which we can appeal.

I've confessed to an unrealized bias in this instance. There was a problem and I failed to treat it appropriately. I've intentionally left out the details of what was said and done because (1) I don't want the reader to evaluate my assessment of this particular case too closely inasmuch as (2) I don't want the details to distract from the fundamental question of bias and how to treat it.

So I'm leaving this one kind of open-ended. Bias is a natural part of life. Bias can predispose us in favor of or against someone or something. Recognizing biases is important, but there are no easy formulas for how to deal with them.

Maybe I'm still trying to justify myself. Maybe I'm judging myself much too harshly. (I haven't given you enough material to be able to make a decision on that point.) Straying too far in either direction could be dangerous. I'll just have to do my best to keep my eyes wide open as I walk through this world.

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God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.

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[Post-script: Gosh, what a weird blog entry. At least, I felt like it was. I just feel the need to caution the reader against taking anything in there too seriously, by which I mean that I don't want anyone to carry the ambiguity too far. I am not, metaphorically, throwing up my hands and giving up all hope of ever "being in the right" when it comes to treating controversial issues. But finding that balance, when it comes to interacting with people, is simply way more nuanced than I am able to articulate in such a short space or even in a very long space.

In that respect, I think this blog entry gets closer to actually representing me, myself. While all the issues I write about are very closely connected to me, they are usually dealt with on a more abstract, intellectual level. The conclusions are my conclusions and reflect my beliefs, but they don't usually convey as much of the "context" (for lack of a better word) that surrounds them, which is something that this entry seems to attempt to do.

So I can't convey all of who I am through my words; I would be foolish to think that I could (or to want that). That's just one of the limitations of blogging. If you really want to know me, you have to talk to me. My goodness, but this entry has covered a lot of strange ground.]