Jesus Movies for Atheists

So I realize that most of my post take a religulous bent, but that what I'm dealing with and so its what I write about.

Last night I watched, the first part of Bill Maher's "Religulous." No, I didn't throw a hissy-fit and storm away (like some Christians in the movie), I had to go help a friend with an art project. Going into this movie, I knew that Bill is an ardent atheist claiming agnosticism. That sounds weird, but it basically means he wants others to doubt religion like him and doesn't seek to understand others. Kind of like Bill O'Reily or Glenn Beck. They just ask questions to badger their source to either make them look stupid or not get any answers. Knowing this and realizing that I would just sit there and fume the entire movie if I took this attitude. I decided to take notes on it. Writing down questions asked, answers I would have given, and in-congruencies in either Bill's or the interviewees logic.

What I came away with was a look into the mind of a modern (excuse me) post-modern atheists. First off, Bill never sought out a qualified source. The only doctors he spoke to were the director of the Human Genome Project and a former Four-Tops who called himself doctor yet did not have a doctorate. At no point was any professor of religion from a divinity school questioned. Maybe I'm jaded and way more knowledgeable about sourcing interviews, but that's where I would have started, not the truck-stop church with the Flava-flav look-a-like preacher. (Interesting note, Bill thanked them for being Christ-like after they prayed for him). Second, there were too many cut scenes where the answers to the questions were cut off. It seemed if the answer wasn't what was expected, Bill did not further pursue it, as a seeker would have, he just moved on to the next question. In the cut scenes, which took place in the van the crew traveled in, Bill repeatedly insulted those he just interviewed or was about to interview. I also noticed how some of the people would stop the interview in the middle of it if they perceived they were losing. But, one time (I chuckle as I write this) a rabbi wouldn't let Bill say anything till he finished answering the question. Bill, visibly upset, stopped the interview and left.

Here are some of the things I took away from "Religulous"

Why is faith good?

Where do I stand on subjects such as evolution, homosexuals, existence of Jesus, virgin birth, veracity of scripture, after-life, and love?

Most people will equate Catholicism as what all Christians think, unless they handle snakes and speak in tongues.

Do I live like Jesus?

If heaven is so good, why don't I commit suicide?

How do I approach other religions; do I think their claims are to outlandish to be believed?

How much do I actually know about the Bible?

Do I love others?

If you interview or have a discussion with a person hostile to your views, pre-set the rules of engagement and use a paper in pen to jot down rebuttals instead of interrupting.

Know the signs of a seeker.

Know how you live your life and how God has told us to live in order to give an answer (1 Pet 3:15).

Above all be Christ-like so that no one can fault you as hypocrite.

The last thing that struck me was the perceived loss of freedom that religion brings. And while that is a whole post in itself, what is it that binds me: the love of/for God, or the traditions of men?

namaste

vaya con Dios

duh duh ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding

So it's closing in on Halloween and that means candy corn, small children running around in the dark, college girls thinking that lingerie + animal ears = a halloween costume, desecrating large squash for art's sake, and nothing but gore flicks on television.

What does the the title of this entry have to do with gore flicks?

There has been a recent rash of scary gore filled movies that feature inbred, mutated, bible-bangin', cannibal hillbillies. Now, I take issue with this representation. I'm not the country boy I sometimes profess to be. I know plenty of these country folk and I love them. Second, why is there always a religious bent towards these cannibals? I know we profess to eat the body and drink the blood of Christ, but, seriously, come on in its just bland bread and grape juice.

Anyway, rather than blow up on this I leave you with the classic redneck thriller tune.

Bluegrass Imagination

Tonight I went to a free bluegrass concert. The band was named Buttermilk Revival and they were... ok. Don't get me wrong they weren't terrible we just left when they decided to play the same song twice near the end of their second set. Also, an ok night of bluegrass is better than what I would've done.

I guess what I like about bluegrass is that it transports me to a place I've never been, cannot go, ... and probably doesn't exist. The plink of the mandolin and the twang of the banjo take me to some far off dancehall with no air conditioning and squeaky wooden floors. The band's rhythm is driven by the thump of feet on the worn boards covered in saw dust. Dim lights can't hide the tired smiles of dancers in the trance of music. Young people rebelling with the now innocent sound of old-timey. Or maybe it's the gospel hymns sung by a family. Pop playing the guitar while Mom touches the piano. Sons and daughters picking a banjo or making a fiddle sing. The off-harmonies are overcome by the that sound that can only come from people who share blood and a love that is more than just a last name. There's a third image of many men and women sitting in a circle trading tunes. The old passing down to the young.

The closest I've come to this place was in a coffee shop in Radford, VA. A free-for-all picking. Old men cradled fiddle dusted white with the rosin of decades. A middle aged man played a mandolin with a neck polished dark and shiny from years of use. His speed did not match his age, fingers sprinting faster than my legs could run in my youth. In the corner, a young man or old boy sat picking a banjo with the skill of the old men, the prodigy. I've forgotten the name of this place, but, if I visit Radford again, I will find my way back to that coffee shop on a Monday night.

Maybe this is a product of who I am and where I live. I've always longed for a time not my own and its lifestyle. I guess since I'm a product of the North Georgia mountains and Cumberland Plateau, I have connected to bluegrass. If I had lived in Louisiana it would have been jazz and zydeco, Memphis would be the blues, New York would be... show tunes?

I don't know where this is going but I don't think this desire will stop or that my imagination will stop running whenever I hear this beautiful music, I will go to this place

Reflections on the Pig Flu

Wednesday night, I took a quick vote among friends as to how manly we were. The qualifier for this being who had been infected with swine flu. This, of course, would isolate only one member at the table.

Thursday morning, I wake up with a terrible back ache and the feeling of a dagger being thrust into my skull. Ok, no need to panic, I don't have the flu, just woke up feeling bad. So I got up and took a shower, because that can make you feel better. Nope, didn't work. I went back to bed. The rest of the day was spent in the fuzz of a 102 degree fever, in my bed. Donnie brought Tylenol, Abbie brought a thermometer to confirm what we already knew, and Ryan brought me a 6 inch sub. Of which I ate approximately 2 and a half inches. Then Jim sentenced me to my room.

That night was spent in the grips of fever and my HD Dolby 5.1 dream world. I resolved to be awake the next day to escape my dreams.

Friday was a better day. 99.3 But, still a day spent as a pariah. Watched "Garden State" and then quickly wound down.

Saturday morning I woke up with a 98.2. Ate lunch with Abbie. All that remains of the pig flu is a nasty cough and fatigue (as you can tell by the suffering writing at the end of this blog). I'll post more, but a quick thanks to all those who kept me alive these past three days.

namaste

vaya con Dios