The November edition of Wired features the Muppets Bunsen and Beaker (always a good start), but what piqued my interest was a one-page article tucked into the middle of the magazine. “Why Johnny Can’t Search,” by Clive Thompson, plays with the decades-old questions about why kids can’t do things that seem really basic to their education (Johnny can’t read or count, either). Thompson reports on a study out of the College of Charleston claiming that while students might be really comfortable using technology, they’re not actually that good at evaluating the credibility of their sources.

This study confirms with scientific evidence what I (and most other English teachers and librarians I know) already knew from experience. The generation of so-called digital natives is remarkably savvy with using technology (all those screens and buttons!), but when it comes to assessing tone or determining authorial credentials, they’re lost. I think part of this phenomenon comes from the “everybody’s an expert” climate of the Internet age, where credentials aren’t actually required for posting things on Google or YouTube. The available technology can make many non-expert sites look extremely professional—which might belie the nonsensical content that often gets taken for serious thought.

Many of my students consider a Google search research, yet the academic definition of research involves rigorous testing, peer review, and an elaborate system of credentialing. No, it’s not fast (certainly not like Google), but it contains actual, substantial information. Not foolproof, but not fool’s bait either. Thompson asserts the increased necessity of librarians as “our national leaders in this fight” in teaching what ultimately boils down to discernment. And yet the system itself seems to work against the development of wisdom; I can’t imagine that all those hours of test prep utilize the teachers’ wisdom or develop the students’. We have an arsenal of qualified teachers whose hands are tied by bureaucracy and a generation of students whose thumbs are texting away at the speed of light. But developing discernment takes time, wisdom, and reflection—and even digital natives can’t find those things in a Google search.

This viral photo-roll has been making the rounds on Facebook and Twitter the past few weeks. It makes for a fitting mid-October post. The staff at Nightmares Fear Factory—a “haunted house” in Niagara Falls, Canada—set up a digital camera at a particular point in their labyrinth of seasonal fear, hoping to capture people at their most startled. The results are quite hilarious. Why so funny? Because we can all relate to being caught unaware. In short, this is how silly people can look at times when they lose their “self-awareness.”

I have often heard differing opinions among church folk regarding the idea of how a Christian ought to relate to the concept of “self-awareness.” Devotional writers, like Oswald Chambers, denounce self-awareness as thoroughly sinful and use phrases like “Christ-awareness” to point us to something better and higher. I’m guessing this would sound something like, “Stop thinking of yourself, think only of Jesus.”

Others point to self-awareness as an inescapable requirement for sanctification and spiritual growth. They propose that we ought to pursue introspection or accountability until we see clearly the actions and intentions that keep us from personal progress. This probably would sound like, “Think of yourself intensely (or be made to think of yourself intensely) until your newly perceived inadequacy leads you to Jesus.”

And honestly, I like both thoughts pretty equally. On a personal note, there are moments when the thoughts I have about myself are so pronounced that I cease to love people well—I’m consumed with my own little world and can’t see past it. But I have other moments where I grow oblivious to my own foolishness, and I need to slow down and think, maybe even be clotheslined by the wisdom of my peers. I need to be both less and more self-aware.

I recently heard someone recount the experience of being an artist and how it might apply it to everyday living: stand too close to your painting, you risk getting caught in your own details and not communicating what you intended; but stand too far away, and you lose the intimacy of personal expression that meaningful art requires. Said in terms of our two views above, “Stop thinking so much about yourself, but do not stop thinking about yourself completely. Either of these things can keep you from Jesus.” I posit that if we join the two views above into a phrase like this, we can properly form a healthful, Christian self-awareness.

As always, you and I are broken and beautiful, image and fall, saint and sinner, laughable and laudable. Christian growth is a growth in the awareness of both of these directions that we often seem to run in simultaneously—and also a growth in the knowledge of the grace that hedges us on both sides.

I find delving into Genesis, particularly its first couple of chapters, to be eye-opening and feel like I learn something nearly every time. Perhaps this is due to the sheer number of methods that have arisen to interpret Genesis, from the very literal to the scientific to the poetic. Obviously, this can produce no small amount of discussion, debate, and even tension — one need only glimpse at the spectrum of responses to Christianity Today’s recent cover story on the historicity of Adam to see that. Crouch addresses some of the issues surrounding interpreting Genesis later in the book, so I’ll touch on them later in this article.

Crouch starts with an overview of the Creation story itself, specifically Genesis 1:26-28, the passage that includes the “cultural mandate” and then explores the scope of the responsibility that God gives to humanity within that passage:

The author clearly intends us to grasp the extent of human beings’ responsibility — they are made to rule not just a few easily domesticated animals like cattle, chickens and goldfish, but the whole panoply of the animal kingdom. It’s extraordinary that a biblical author who had seen neither airplanes nor submarines, and for whom boats were small and rudimentary affairs, could anticipate humankind being able to “rule” over fish and birds in any meaningful way. Either the author’s conception of rule and dominion is much less about the naked exertion of power than we might imagine, or this text anticipates millennia of cultural developments that would eventually bring us to the point where we truly have the power to shape the destiny of most species on the planet. Perhaps both. In any event, repetition and comprehensiveness of description makes it plain: human beings will be responsible for the creation in its totality, not just for their immediate neighborhood.

Several years ago, Ann Coulter said, in her inimitable fashion, that God gave us the earth to rape and do with as we please. And while she might’ve been trolling a bit with her comments, that sentiment sadly does seem to be prevalent amongst Christians when it comes to the topic of caring for the Earth. Perhaps it’s driven by a belief that it’s all going to burn when Jesus returns, or that Jesus will return before it’s all used up — so why care about it? Perhaps it’s driven by political and/or philosophical concerns over the environmentalist movement. In any case, I’ve encountered many Christians who express ambivalence when it comes to caring for this planet. However, when I read the “cultural mandate”, and think about the immense responsibility that Crouch outlined above, I’m filled with awe, humility, and even a bit of fear. This world is our home, a gift from a good and loving Father that we are meant to enjoy, explore, and — as we’ll see — help to flourish and become even greater. To do otherwise, I think, is to display a deep ingratitude and even arrogance for such a magnificent gift.

But how and why do humans bear this responsibility? Certainly not because we’re the biggest or strongest creatures roaming the earth. The answer lies in the same passage: of all of the myriad facets of creation mentioned in the Bible, of all of the creatures roaming the earth, humans alone are made in God’s image and bear His likeness. But what does that mean? As has been impressed upon me lately, the term “image of God” is one that Christians like to throw around a lot without giving much thought as to what it means. For Crouch’s purposes, the answer is hinted at in everything that has been seen of God up to this point in the story, specifically His “purposeful and energetic desire to create”:

…when the human beings, male and female, are created “in God’s image,” surely the primary implication is that they will reflect the creative character of their Maker.

This reflection of God’s creativity manifests itself in several ways:

1. Creation brings being out of nothing: While it is true that only God truly creates ex nihilo, humans are also capable of creating out of nothing in a limited fashion. Crouch uses the example of human language, which is “so marvelously fruited, linguists have asserted, that every human being… has uttered a completely original sentence.” I experienced something similar when I was in a band, i.e., the creation of original songs. True, they might’ve been a little too influenced by our favorite bands, but they were ours nevertheless. Nobody else had created those particular combinations of notes, melodies, rhythms, etc., that arose in our practice space, and given the collection of tastes, perspectives, and styles that my bandmates and I brought to the table, nobody else could have.
2. Creation is relational: In other words, the various aspects of creation are made for, and rely upon, one another. This can be seen in the pattern and structure of creation laid out in the first verses of Genesis, as well as in the fact that even human beings, with all of our ingenuity and intellect, cannot exist apart from the surrounding creation. Everything depends on everything else. This isn’t some cheesy, New Age-y business about the “circle of life”, but a simple fact of life. And this sense of interdependence serves as a sort of model for how we ought to perceive the act of creation. As Crouch so eloquently puts it: “Human creativity, then, images God’s creativity when it emerges from a lively, lovely community of persons and, perhaps more important, when it participates in unlocking the full potential of what has gone before and creating possibilities for what will come later.”
3. Creation requires cultivation: True creation doesn’t happen willy-nilly, but rather, it is purposeful and done carefully and mindfully so as to bring about the best and most fruitful results. In a curious way, creation — which is often described in such terms as “boundless” and “limitless” — is actually a process of limiting ourselves. As we create, we make choices about what to do and what not to do. We test different approaches, media, ideas, etc., and discard those that don’t work. All the while, we are narrowing ourselves down to those elements that do work. In other words, “[t]he best creativity involves discarding that which is less than best, making room for the cultural goods that are the very best we can do with the world that has been given to us.” Fascinatingly, this is true of God in His creative work as well. We don’t like to think of God as being limited, and yet, as He created, He made creative decisions that, in effect, limited Him as He continued with the task.
4. Creation leads to celebration: The Bible says that when God finished His creative work, He took a step back, evaluated it, and expressed deep satisfaction with it, i.e., “It is very good.” God was deeply pleased with that which He had brought forth, and likewise, creation ought to leave us feeling satisfied, pleased, and joyful. I’ve often encountered sentiments that creative works — e.g., films, music — ought to leave us restless, disturbed, horrified. And while there may be some truth to that, it often feels like precious little is said for creativity leaving us with a sense of satisfaction, pleasure, completeness, rightness, and in a word, joy.

One of the most common biblical “contradictions” that skeptics like to throw out is the disparity between the first two chapters of Genesis. Both chapters tell the Creation story, but they tell it differently. But from Crouch’s perspective, the chapters are different because they are focusing on different things: “If Genesis 1 is about humanity’s amazingly dignified position in the cosmos, Genesis 2 is about humanity’s call to culture.” And if there’s one key point that I think Crouch wants to drive home in his readers regarding Genesis 2, it’s that creation alone wasn’t all that God gave humanity in the beginning:

…it is not just nature that is God’s gift to humanity. Culture is a gift as well. In the biblical view culture is not simply something we have made up on our own — God was the first gardener, the first culture maker. As in Genesis 1, he asks us not to do something fundamentally different but rather to imitate him — in Genesis 1, to imitate his creativity and gracious dominion over the creation, and here in Genesis 2, to imitate him by cultivating the initial gift of a well-arranged garden, a world where intelligence, skill and imagination have already begun to make something of the world.

But in order to let us imitate Him, God has to “give us room” to do so. As was mentioned before, God has to begin limiting Himself. An example of this occurs when God has Adam name the animals in Genesis 2:19. Did God need Adam to name the animals, to tell Him what each of these creatures were as they went past? Of course not, and yet God limited Himself by turning over that all-too-important task to the one created in His likeness.

In order for humankind to flourish in their role as cultivators and creators, God will have to voluntarily withdraw, in certain ways, from his own creation. He makes space for the man to name the animals; he makes room for the man and the woman to know one another and explore the garden. He even gives them freedom, tragically but necessarily, to misuse their creative and cultivating capacities… Without this gracious carving out of space, they would never be able to fulfill their destiny as divine image-bearers; without the gift of a garden protected from the full wild wonder of the teeming earth and waters, they would be overwhelmed. God’s first and best gift to humanity is culture, the realm in which human beings themselves will be the cultivators and creators, ultimately contributing to the cosmic purposes of the Cultivator and Creator of the natural world.

Sadly, this is where the biblical story begins to go wrong. God necessarily withdraws, but nature, as they say, abhors a vacuum. The serpent enters the scene and casts doubt on the culture that God has left Adam and Eve, and by doing so, brings about shift in the duo’s cultural perspective and activities. After succumbing to temptation, the couple becomes ashamed, and their response is a cultural one — they create cultural goods (i.e., clothing) in an attempt to hide their shame. They are still creating and cultivating, but doing so from a skewed perspective.

Crouch’s point here, I think, isn’t to quibble over interpretations of the text, but rather to simply point out that we have been cultural beings from the very beginning. We were born into culture, we were given culture as a great gift, we were asked to create more of it and make it better — and tragically, we are incredibly skilled at breaking culture and using it for our own selfish ends. Indeed, as we move deeper into Genesis, we see the reality of Primo Levi’s statement that “it is not given to man to enjoy uncontaminated happiness.” As a result of that initial act of sinful consumption, all of our best and noblest cultural efforts have become twisted and tainted, driven by shame, fear, and selfishness.

In the Bible’s early chapters, this culminates with the Tower of Babel, as humanity unites and in their hubris, endeavors to build a city with a tower that will reach to the heavens and allow them to draw near to God whenever they wanted. In essence, it would let them wrest their destiny from God’s hands, and become equals with God:

…the city of Babel amounts to a massive declaration of independence from God: a defiantly human effort to deal with the world in its wonder and terror — and to put distance between humans and God in all his wonder and terror. Babel and its tower are the logical end point of the process that began when the man and woman made fig leaves in their first moments of self- and sin-consciousness — a completed cultural project, a city, whose entire purpose is to cover, protect, and shield its people from other human beings and from their Creator.

Crouch continues, tempering some his glorious language regarding culture that we encountered in the book’s earlier chapters with this sober thought:

This, then, is one of the arcs of the story of Genesis 1-11, from the fig leaves to the tower. Culture attempts to deal with the consequences of sin. But this is a vain attempt, in all the senses of the word vain: prideful, self-regarding and futile. What human beings make of the world only deepens their alienation and independence from their maker. This is the germ of truth in all condemnations of culture. For all its moments of beauty and ingenuity, culture can easily be Babel: a fist-shaking attempt to take over God’s roles for ourselves.

I’ll be honest, I found this chapter a bit of a difficult one to parse. For one thing, I feel that Crouch tried to cram in a bit too much that subsequently slowed things down a bit. For example, an extended discussion about “the significance of the garden as the place where the Creator intends human culture to flourish”. Interesting? Certainly. But at the same time, the extended discussion of the differences between gardens, wilderness, and theme parks felt like a bit of a rabbit trail. Of course, there’s still a lot of good stuff that is worth reading over several times, and thinking through the ramifications.

Finally, given the chapter’s focus on Genesis 1, it’s not surprising that Crouch includes a bit of a disclaimer in the form of an “interlude” between this chapter and the next. There, he addresses some of the aforementioned “discussion, debate, and even tension” that often arises whenever the discussion turns to Genesis. It’s perhaps unfortunate that he needs to include this interlude, but I do like the stance that he seeks to adopt. For example, “I am not personally persuaded by the valiant efforts Bible-believing Christians have made to fit every detail of the Genesis creation stories into the story told by modern cosmology and archaeology. Yet I am not sure the biblical writers would have been terribly troubled by the failings of Genesis 1-11 as literal cosmological history… Genesis’s ‘primordial story’ … needs to be read not in the context of modern judgments of archaeological evidence that the biblical writers knew nothing of, but in the context of ancient creation myths that the biblical writers were keen to counter with their own version of the story.” In other words, it’s a stance characterized by a desire to read the Bible as it was intended to be read, without unduly forcing certain modern perspectives upon it.

Where’s my XBOX720?

The PlayStation was released in the US in 1995. The PS2 and XBOX were released in 2000-01, and were followed by the XBOX360 and PS3 in ‘05-06. So where’s the next generation of consoles? There’s a simple answer: they’re not coming. The seventh generation of gaming consoles was built for growth, using software updates to make them more efficient and to add new features.

Instead of a new generation of thumb-straining consoles, Microsoft and Sony have followed Nintendo’s lead into motion-based gaming with the Kinect and the Move. These technologies are opening up a ton of new possibilities for the industry’s new target market: casual gamers. So even though there’s no new generation of consoles, there’s still a new generation of gaming.

TV without the TV Set

For the last few years, netbooks – those 10-inch laptops you could pickup for under $300 – were making a place for themselves in the market. They seemed like something that was here to stay. Then a few things happened to knock them off their path, and create a new market for home entertainment (presented in no particular order):

• The iPad: Everything your netbook does, but cooler.
• The $350 full-size laptop: When you look at a 10-inch screen for $300, and a 15-inch for $350, you suddenly realize that it’s tiny. It’s like you couldn’t see it before, but now it’s there, and you can’t not think about it.
• Netflix, Hulu, and streaming TV: They’ve been around for a couple of years, but 2010 was the watershed year, when it suddenly wasn’t odd to watch TV on your computer.
• Falling LCD prices: In November of 2008 I bought an LCD TV for $400. In 2007 that TV cost $600, and today it costs $279. When you put that together with free streaming TV on your PC, you get…
• Streamed TV and Movies in the living room: the XBOX360 offered Netflix streaming to your TV first, but now all three consoles, a number of set top boxes, Blu-Ray players, and Net-enabled TV’s have followed suit. Apple and Google have even entered the game (with the creatively named ‘AppleTV’ and ‘GoogleTV’, respectively).

It’s no surprise that no one wants a netbook anymore. It’s also no surprise that cable companies started acting shady.

Comcast, Verizon, and the FCC

With the growth of streaming services, cable companies worry that Netflix and Hulu will hurt the cable TV market. To calm themselves they made a deal to charge a middle-man extra to “transmit Internet online movies and other content to Comcast’s customers who request such content.”

This is just the kind of thing that Verizon teamed up with Google to prevent. In a much misunderstood proposal (at the end of this Wired article), they propose rules which would guarantee a free and open internet, while creating a second network which providers could use to serve premium content for a fee.

The Federal Communications Commission is trying to run the show as industry players negotiate these situations, but they (and the rest of the country) seem to still be confused about whether they have any authority over the internet. Don’t worry, though – eventually, someone will do something, and half the crowd will get mad.

Apple v. Google

No, they haven’t gone to court – not yet anyway. The massive and opposing philosophies of these two giants are like the Blu-Ray/HD-DVD format wars, except this fight is for mind-share, rather than market-share.

Apple’s philosophy is simple: make it sleek, make it sexy, make it work, and don’t let anyone screw it up. They push a closed system where everything is designed together, built together, and approved together. The two results of this philosophy are that a) every product is seemless, and b) they have total control.

Google’s philosophy is equally simple: make it open, make it flexible, and make sure anyone can change it. They endorse free (as in beer AND as in choice) in as many ways as possible. They help design parts – parts that you can use together, mix and match, or use toward your own project. They have no control, and they don’t seem to want it.

Consider the respective app stores: Steve Jobs taking a strict ‘no porn’ stance, and pointing out the presence of a ‘porn store for Android.’ Is Google making a statement in favor of porn by not having a similar ban? Not really, it’s just their philosophy: open means open, even when it’s controversial. The same philosophy has the iPad competing with an untold number of variations, from Samsung’s GalaxyTab and the Dell Streak, to the VelocityMicro Cruz Reader.

Now consider that Android has 26% of the market, while the iPhone has 25%. While the iPhone’s share is made up of 4 iterations of the same (stellar) product, there are dozens of Android devices, each with a different set of features (and problems); manufacturers even have the ability to make Android look and work however they please. Their competitiveness shows how torn we are about which is better. It will be interesting to see if one of these philosophies pulls ahead this year.

So that’s the wrap up. I know a lot more happened this year (Boxee, 4G, LED TVs, wireless broadband), but I couldn’t possibly get to it all. What do you think about what’s here, and what important things did I leave out?

In my role as a pastor I find myself doing several things on a constant basis: responding to e-mails, reading and studying, and planning my week. Now I’ve done all those things for years without an iPad and done them just fine, but what the iPad has allowed me to do is to take on these same tasks from beyond the walls of my office. Without having to lug around a bag full of books, a laptop, and a daily planner I am able to pick up my work and move to the coffee shop up the street and work for several hours. This has opened up so many more opportunities for evangelism.

One of the downfalls of being in pastoral ministry is that you can very easily spend all of your days with Christians and lose sight of the need for pastors to be consistently involved in evangelism. The iPad has allowed me the freedom to do my work and share the gospel (not to mention that every average Joe wants a peek at it, thus opening doors for conversation). With the iPad I have my Greek and Hebrew tools accessible to me anywhere I go, I have countless books at my fingertips, and I can drop an e-mail as quickly as I want. All that being said, however, there is a common language about the iPad and ministry that is beginning to concern me.

The iPad is being hailed as a technological revolution. I am not sure it warrants that title… not yet, anyways. It has certainly opened up a whole new category of products between laptops and smart phones, but the real stretch in my mind are the young tech savy pastors who claim that the iPad will “revolutionize ministry.” This seems not simply a stretch to me, but a dangerous train of thought. Pastoral ministry is about helping people grow in their knowledge of, love for, and obedience to God. It is about ministering to people, pointing them to the gospel, opening God’s Word for them and with them. As great as the iPad is I am not quite sure how it is going to “revolutionize” all of that.

There are some who view technology as the key to successful business and successful ministry (these people obviously haven’t read Jim Collins). Some think that if you’re going to grow, if you’re going to connect with people, if you’re going to maintain relevance then technology is an absolute necessity. I’ll be the first to admit that technology has much untapped potential for the church, but to suggest that ministry in the 21st century can’t be conducted without it is, in my view, ridiculous. The iPad may change many things (reading, web-surfing, etc.), but to suggest that it will drastically transform pastoral ministry may say more about the quality of some pastor’s ministry than about the iPad.

I love my iPad, I really do. But if I need it to love my people then I am not a good pastor. If I can use it to help serve them, then I will, but I, like all Christians, need to be cautious about overly sanctifying my technology. True pastoral ministry can’t be centered around technology, but it can always be done without it.

Sent from my iPad

Every week, Richard Clark and Ben Bartlett acknowledge and respond to the big issues in popular culture. We love feedback! If you’d like to respond you can comment on the website, send an email to christandpopculture@gmail.com, or go to our contact page. We would love to respond to feedback on the show, so do it now! Subscribe to us in iTunes by clicking here. While you’re at it, review us in iTunes! We’ll love you forever!

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Warning! If you are not completely caught up with Lost, you won’t want to read any further.

Richard writes,

Let’s start with what is, for our purposes, probably the most important few lines in Lost so far:

“That man who sent you to kill me believes that everyone is corruptible because it’s in their very nature to sin. I bring people here to prove him wrong. And when they get here, their past doesn’t matter.”

What Jacob is doing here is expressing a common theory of the nature of man: “Tabula Rasa” or clean slate, which claims that it is man’s nurture rather than nature that has caused him to sin. If he were given a fresh start away from the trappings of society and culture, he would at least have an opportunity to be sinless. This is a theory that Christians know better than. Ever since the fall, mankind has been born with a slate full of predispositions to sin, and children have told their parents “no” ab aeterno, or since the beginning of time… or at least, since the fall.

So the question is this: is Lost presenting a humanistic view of man, that he can improve himself on his own without God’s help? It seems to be the case. Then again, many of Jacob’s techniques don’t diverge too much from what many Christians view as God’s techniques: he guides and directs, but he doesn’t force man’s hand. It’s not exactly something I’m totally on board with, but I find it acceptable on a few levels.

Is Lost showing man’s redemption coming from within himself or from somewhere else? Is a second chance all we need? Are these even the right questions?

This episode has me all thrown off. Can you tell?

Drew writes,

I agree.  After watching last week’s episode, I commented on Twitter that Lost is in the midst of an identity crisis.  Ben’s episode was a very powerful show that seemed to really continue the theme of man’s struggle with God and Jacob seemed to be some sort of Judeo Christian God figure–then we find out this week that Jacob is much more hands off than we thought.

What concerns me more than Jacob’s theory on the nature of man is what Jacob’s theory says about God.  Assuming Jacob is some sort of god-figure, Jacob’s own statements would indicate that he is not really in control, that he cannot be sure that his plans will succeed.  Jacob gives such a high view of human free will that he cannot be sure that his prerogatives will succeed and it would seem that his plans have not entirely succeeded.

Furthermore how is it that the island is a bottle that is keeping pure evil from escaping?  That theory doesn’t seem to be working–grave evils are being committed outside the island–what good is this “bottling” of evil accomplishing?  If man is a blank slate what is the danger of pure evil escaping if man is capable of refusing such evil?

Lost is trying to address questions that the show is ill-equipped to answer.  The Man in Black seems to understand  human nature better than Jacob.

Lost is also in the midst of an identity crisis in that it cannot decide if it is dualistic or monotheistic.  Jacob, if he is indeed some sort of representative of God, was not espousing dualism so much as a historically “Christian heresy.”  Jacob came across as pelagian.

Further, to answer your question Rich, what bothered me most about Jacob’s comments was, his telling Richard–”I can’t forgive you.”  That seemed to me to indicate that the people on the island have to find redemption inside themselves.  Further this statement reveals that, if Jacob indeed represents God, he is by no means all powerful.  Thus Jacob is capable of failing.

Richard writes,

I suppose your complaints are valid, but I think we should back up and keep and mind that Lost is a work of art, and that as such it’s meant to do certain things, and not to certain other things. In particular, I don’t think Lost, or any TV show should be attempting to nail down a concrete view of God. Might they, behind the scenes, be trying to nail down a concrete view of “Jacob”? Sure. But Jacob, even if he is meant to represent God, is only a type of God and so is a fallible representation. In that light, I think it’s unfair to accuse Lost of espousing certain Christian heresies.

Sermons are meant for preaching, and art is meant for asking questions. You could even say that good art prepares the way for a good sermon.

So the question is whether Lost is asking good questions in ways that are helpful and beautiful. Because it’s a serial drama, we’re not really going to know that until the end of this thing. But of course, it would be just as dangerous to withhold thoughtful speculation as it would be to jump to conclusions. Let’s thing of it as wary preparation for the inevitable sucker-punch that is the last episode of Lost, aptly titled “The End.”

Drew writes,

Great point Richard.  I think I am probably expecting too much from Lost.  I think the questions Lost is asking are fascinating and they are questions worth asking.  So is Lost a worthwhile piece of art?  Well right now its asking some fascinating questions, so I would be tempted to say, yes it is.  Confusing–yes, but a show that has made me think perhaps more than any other TV drama.

I guess I wanted to point out that Lost is waffling back and forth between dualism and some form of monotheism. Jacob’s statements last week were not necessarily dualistic, some Christians would even espouse those thoughts about God.  Again to answer your question, it would seem that Jacob expects salvation to come from within the hearts of those on the island.  That is a fair thing for them to espouse, but I just think it is an inconsistent philosophy.  What is within the heart of man is what is wrong with the world, so salvation cannot come from within.

Previous Installments:

Pre-season: Lost’s Biggest Question.

Pre-season, part 2:  Lost’s Free Will Dilemma.

Season Premiere: ‘Lost’ Patience.

What Kate Did: Poor Jack.

The Lighthouse: Sawyer’s Choice

Sundown: Jacob is Good, All the Time

Dr. Linus: Did Ben Get Off Easy?

Warning! If you are not completely caught up with Lost, you won’t want to read any further.

David wrote,

So here’s my question: was the forgiveness Ben recieved for killing Jacob cheap? I mean the man murdered and he is let off the hook simply because he let his daughter die too. I am not sure how that all works. I loved this week’s episode and found myself sympathetic toward Ben too, but I can’t help but wonder what motivated that sympathy in me or in the other characters on the show. Thoughts?

Richard wrote,

David, I have to admit I was caught off-guard by your question. To me, this wasn’t a show about the nature of forgiveness as much as it was the nature of repentance and grace.

I too felt sympathy toward Ben’s predicament, not because I identified with his “murder,” but because I identified with his root struggles: his disappointment in himself, his uncertainty as to the nature and reality of Jacob, his regret that his uncertainty caused him to betray Jacob, and his fear that such a betrayal would cause him to be rejected by those who love Jacob.

So yeah, if this situation weren’t quite so cosmic, maybe we could debate whether Ben should get life in prison or something. But what we’re really talking about here, as alluded to the last time we discussed Lost, is a faith struggle – and Ben came out on the other end of it.

We see the same thing from Jack, who caused quite a bit of harm as well, throughout his life, because he didn’t have enough faith to simply accept that some things just can’t be, and shouldn’t be, fixed. His belief, or lack thereof, came to a head in Lighthouse and he has come out with a stronger faith than ever. Jack isn’t a guy who kills people – we saw that early in the series, when he refused to allow the easy death of Kate’s arresting officer. But here was Jack, willing not only to blow up Richard, but himself as well – except he figured that probably wasn’t going to happen. We could tell from his face that he wasn’t entirely sure, but he figured he had to accept the stakes and jump in at some point. That’s what that scene is all about.

We see the same leap of faith exhibited not only by Ben, but by Ilana herself. She seems to be quite close to Jacob, considering him to be the closest thing to a father that she’s ever had. Isn’t it interesting then, that she would forgive Ben for killing him? Maybe she’s following in her father’s footsteps?

This season is all about the main characters (at least the candidates) experiencing their crisis of faith, and either getting stuck there or coming out stronger for it. Hurley was lucky enough to have had this crisis throughout the series – which is why he’s suddenly more confident and mature than everyone else at the moment, and why he saw no need to stand next to some dynamite while it exploded. Far from suicidal, Hurley has a lot ahead of him. As far as he’s concerned, Jacob has a wonderful plan for his life.

David wrote,

Previous Installments:

Pre-season: Lost’s Biggest Question.

Pre-season, part 2:  Lost’s Free Will Dilemma.

Season Premiere: ‘Lost’ Patience.

What Kate Did: Poor Jack.

The Lighthouse: Sawyer’s Choice

Sundown: Jacob is Good, All the Time

I too felt sympathy toward Ben’s predicament, not because I identified with his “murder,” but because I identified with his root struggles: his disappointment in himself, his uncertainty as to the nature and reality of Jacob, his regret that his uncertainty caused him to betray Jacob, and his fear that such a betrayal would cause him to be rejected by those who love Jacob.

So yeah, if this situation weren’t quite so cosmic, maybe we could debate whether Ben should get life in prison or something. But what we’re really talking about here, as alluded to the last time we discussed Lost, is a faith struggle – and Ben came out on the other end of it.

We see the same thing from Jack, who caused quite a bit of harm as well, throughout his life, because he didn’t have enough faith to simply accept that some things just can’t be, and shouldn’t be, fixed. His belief, or lack thereof, came to a head in Lighthouse and he has come out with a stronger faith than ever. Jack isn’t a guy who kills people – we saw that early in the series, when he refused to allow the easy death of Kate’s arresting officer. But here was Jack, willing not only to blow up Richard, but himself as well – except he figured that probably wasn’t going to happen. We could tell from his face that he wasn’t entirely sure, but he figured he had to accept the stakes and jump in at some point. That’s what that scene is all about.

We see the same leap of faith exhibited not only by Ben, but by Ilana herself. She seems to be quite close to Jacob, considering him to be the closest thing to a father that she’s ever had. Isn’t it interesting then, that she would forgive Ben for killing him? Maybe she’s following in her father’s footsteps?

This season is all about the main characters (at least the candidates) experiencing their crisis of faith, and either getting stuck there or coming out stronger for it. Hurley was lucky enough to have had this crisis throughout the series – which is why he’s suddenly more confident and mature than everyone else at the moment, and why he saw no need to stand next to some dynamite while it exploded. Far from suicidal, Hurley has a lot ahead of him. As far as he’s concerned, Jacob has a wonderful plan for his life.

Previous Installments:

Pre-season: Lost’s Biggest Question.

Pre-season, part 2:  Lost’s Free Will Dilemma.

Season Premiere: ‘Lost’ Patience.

What Kate Did: Poor Jack.

The Lighthouse: Sawyer’s Choice

Warning! If you are not completely caught up with Lost, you won’t want to read any further.

Drew wrote,

As Rich so humorously pointed out last week, there have been some pretty heavy handed indications in Lost of a dualistic relationship between Jacob and the Man in Black, but I am beginning to wonder if the relationship is truly dualistic.

Jacob is dead, but he is still clearly at work.  The end of last season and last week’s episode make me wonder if Jacob doesn’t have a master plan.  So here is a short list of reasons why Jacob might just be . . . holy:

1.  Clearly he has worked out some very complex circumstances by which the Oceanic 815 passengers end up on the plane and consequently on the island.

2.  The “Others,” especially Ben and Richard clearly fear him.

3.  He has given Richard long life, healed John Locke from paralysis and healed both Rose and Juliet’s sister from terminal cancer.

4. It seems that Jacob had a part in saving young Ben Linus when he was nearly shot to death.

5.  In last year’s finale–the MIB claims that he will find a “loophole” by which he will be able to kill Jacob. Jacob responds by saying, “when you do, I will be right here my friend.”

That is certainly not a comprehensive list.  The objection that I suspect will be brought up is that Jacob ordered the extermination of the DHARMA Initiative, but I think it is now unclear as to who was really influencing Ben–Jacob or the Man in Black?  Further, did not God order the ban on the Ammorites when “their iniquity [was] complete” (Gen. 15:16).

I know people draw Biblical comparisons unnecessarily all the time with shows like Lost, but I think there may be a significant one at play with Jacob. When Ben confronted Jacob at the end of last season, Jacob tells Ben he has a choice, but Jacob knows Ben pretty well by this point and when Ben berates Jacob for ignoring him, Jacob responds in a way that he surely knew would set Ben on the course of action that would result in his death: “what about you?”

It seems a willful death on Jacob’s part at the hand of a supposed servant and friend.  Now Jacob seems poised to break down Jack to the point of making him the protector of the island.  I need to stop making predictions, but I suspect that Jacob is going to work on Jack and turning him from “annoying irrational Jack” into “wonderful hero Jack.”

Is Jacob holy?  Probably not, I can’t imagine Lost giving credit to an all powerful and good God, but right now it kinda seems that way.

Richard wrote,

Wow Drew, you’re really really going out on a limb there! I like it! Your five reasons, though I’m sure many fans will say are somewhat questionable, are nonetheless a convincing case for Jacob’s omnipotence and general goodness.

The omnipotence thing is something I’ve been wondering about for a while. Lost did such a good job building up the mythos of this “Jacob” before we even met him, that I just assumed that the logical Lost-style twist would be the startling fact that he was in fact just some guy. I was basically settled on this opinion until I read your email, and now I’m not so sure.

I get a lot of criticism for reading too much biblical stuff into Lost, and with most popular culture, I think this would be a correct criticism. Our site is certainly not about reading spiritual messages into cultural artifacts when there are none. In this case though, I think Lost has made it pretty clear that Biblical thought and imagery is a big part of the show.

And so, it’s entirely possible, and I would argue probable, that Jacob either represents or in some sense is, a Judeo-Christian God figure. And of course, just as in the Bible there are all sorts of questions about the character and nature of God that, even when understood as best we can, provide us with an opportunity for debilitating confusion and questioning.

Maybe I’ve written about this too much in these water cooler posts, but I’m getting more and more worked up about it every week. Since Drew was such a trooper, making all sorts of predictions, I’m going to stop beating around the bush and make a pretty bold claim of my own: Lost is simultaneously about the necessity and near impossibility of faith. It’s Job’s story arc. And Christian’s need to embrace this because it’s the most honest representation of the Christian faith I’ve seen on television that I can remember, even if not specific.

If you’ve never wanted to take God to task for his choices concerning your life, you viewed Ben’s act at the end of last season as unforgivable and villainous. If you’ve never tried to fix situations that make no sense on your own, you will struggle to relate to Jack. If you’ve ever been frustrated by your lot in life and found it hard to be content with your own lowly circumstances, then you won’t be able empathize with Locke. If you’ve never felt as if you had no choice but to do the wrong thing, and then run from those consequences all your life, then you probably are just annoyed by Kate.

As for me, the more this season goes on the easier I am on these characters, and the more invested I am in their journey. And like them, sometimes I want to make God answer for – or at least answer – these mysteries.

Previous Installments:

Pre-season: Lost’s Biggest Question.

Pre-season, part 2:  Lost’s Free Will Dilemma.

Season Premiere: ‘Lost’ Patience.

What Kate Did: Poor Jack.

Warning! If you are not completely caught up with Lost, you won’t want to read any further.

Richard wrote,

“Hey Jacob.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just letting you know, I’m putting this scale here. I thought it might be fun.”

“Fun? How?”

“Well, it could be a fun way to keep score of like, who is winning.”

“But, man in black, there is no score.”

“Well more than that it can serve as a representation of our dualistic relationship, and when one of us dies we can dramatically cast it into the ocean. This will be a mystery to whomever we bring back to the cave, but will be incredibly blatant to anyone who might be watching the TV movie or something about the events here on the island later on.”

“Oooh, mystery. I like that.”

“I thought you would.”

And with that, the most heavy handed symbolism in the Lost universe was created. It’s the only real complaint I have about this week’s episode.

We’re a Christian web site, so let’s start by pointing out what seems obvious to me: Jacob has become a sort of symbolic stand-in for God and his mysterious methods. This was way more than hinted at in last season’s finale, but even more clear when the Man in Black made his case to Sawyer:

“At some point in your life, probably when you were young, miserable, and vulnerable he came to you, manipulated you, pulled your strings like you were a puppet. And as a result, choices you made were never really choices at all. He was pushing you, James. Pushing you to the island.”

The question at hand during most of our discussions has been whether Lost has adequately addressed the issue of faith versus reason or just used it as a sort of plot point. I think much of what has been said about the simplistic way the issue has been addressed has been correct. It’s obviously a theme, but it’s also one that doesn’t go much beyond simply choosing to believe in something, anything. This is unfortunate.

But as the season goes on, and the objects of belief become more concrete, I would argue that the theme starts to take on a new life, and as a result gives all of those older struggles a newer meaning. What we see the characters in Lost struggling with is not whether or not they should have faith, but what they should have faith in. In this case, we are realizing they have two real choices: Jacob or the Man in Black. Let’s compare, shall we?

In this corner: Jacob, the man of mystery. He seems to truly care for the people he brings to the island. He has a real affection for them. It’s likely he has their good in mind. But it’s also clear that he lets some awful things happen to them. He might have even caused some of those awful things. What is it all for? For whatever reason, Jacob won’t say.

In the other corner: The Man in Black, the man of “truth.” He seems to be overcome with a desire to get off of the island, more than anything, though he also seems concerned that the survivors have been “mistreated” by Jacob. But he also kills people. He lets his anger get the best of him, or maybe he is at his most authentic when he is angry. What is it all for? As far as we know, he’ll tell us “everything.”

This is really a choice we all make: Do we prefer mystery or total enlightenment? Do we want to be lead around by a higher power, or do we want to make decisions on our own? Do we want to suffer for a purpose, or not at all?

And really there’s only one choice, because the other one doesn’t exist. We will never have total enlightenment. We will always be lead by an unseen force. And suffering happens. It might as well be for a purpose.

It seems to me like Lost is a show about accepting and embracing the mystery… even when it hurts. You know, like during that season with the cages.

Alan wrote,

Rich, your analysis of the two choices we have–Jacob or Flock–is interesting. The Man in Black/Flock does seem to represent the promise of knowledge, secret knowledge which the other “god” of the island kept back even from his most trusted creatures–Richard. Not to force a biblical parallel here (which means I’m about to), but it is striking to me that Sawyer was lured by Flock with the prospect of knowledge, just as Adam and Eve were tempted by Satan with forbidden knowledge. Taking that a step further, the fruit in the Garden of Eden was the fruit of the knowledge of Good and Evil, and where does Flock take Sawyer? To a cave where Sawyer begins to question if Jacob was in fact “good” and where there is a white (good) and black (evil) stone.

So what are we to do with these apparent allusions to biblical themes? As Ben brought up in response to the first episode of this season, I think there is a real possibility the writers are using various religious (as well as cultural) allusions, symbols, and metaphors not to explore the meanings behind these beliefs, but simply to add to the mystery of the story. On the other hand, perhaps the writers are thoughtfully engaging the nature of our desire for knowledge. You would think that after five seasons I would know whether or not Lost is going to intelligently use all these allusions, but with every new twist in the plot I never feel closer to knowing.

Leading up to the season premier, we’ll discuss the show so far, and what we might expect in the coming weeks and months. Once the show starts, you can expect regular updates, in which we discuss each episode and its implications.

Previous Installments:
Pre-season: Lost’s Biggest Question.
Pre-season, part 2:  Lost’s Free Will Dilemma
Season Premiere: ‘Lost’ Patience

Warning! If you are not completely caught up with Lost, you won’t want to read any further.

Drew writes,

I have now fully caught up on Lost, so I thought I would start out this week’s discussion.  I jumped in late on last week’s discussion and made the argument that Lost’s greatest achievement was its character development and that character development seems to be tied directly to the theme of redemption.   What most good science fiction often does is place characters in extremely bizarre, tense, or absurd situations and lets the characters respond to, learn from, and struggle through those situations.  Lost is all about the absurd, but this provides an interesting backdrop for its eccentric characters to grow or self-destruct. There has been much talk about something outside the characters bringing deliverance.  I think for some characters this has already happened (Sawyer, Jin, Desmond, Charlie, maybe even Locke).  The Island seems to bring redemption for some. Locke finds purpose on the island (even if he dies feeling he failed), Sawyer and Jin mature into committed and loving men who learn to be selfless.  Charlie, a drug addict, dies a hero.  The island seems to have the power to help people confront their demons, and the insane events of the show give Lost’s selfish characters unique opportunities to rise above themselves and give of themselves for the good of others.

We even saw this last week with Kate.  Kate, as we have come to expect, is running from the law but this time she stops to help Claire–somehow it seems she has learned something while on the island.  It is becoming more and more apparent that the present lives of the characters is not unaffected by what happened on the island though they don’t seem to remember it.

I think after the last episode, the faith vs. reason theme is worth bringing up briefly.  Because it would seem that the old rational Jack is back as seen in his refusal to give Sayid the medicine.  I am not sure this is necessarily a bad thing though, if Jack had just given him the medicine without knowing what it was I would have cried foul too.  I am sure that this season is gearing up to end with Jack being the greatest hero of them all.

That said, I am also curious about how the infection is going to play out.  It is my prediction that the infection will not just kill people, but seek to  undermine the growth that has taken place in some of the characters.  And let me go on record to say that I also would venture to guess that Charles Widmore is somehow connected to Locke and the infection.  Just guesses, but that is part of the fun of watching this show!

David writes,

I would like to go on record (to borrow the phrase from Drew) and say that I think Jack has become the most pathetic and uninteresting character on the show. I can hardly stand to watch him week in and week out. There seems to be no more depth to him, almost like he’s reached his full potential as a character. I love this show but I am starting to agree with Ben (just a bit) that maybe the writers have “lost” (forgive the play) something with this season. Character development hasn’t been as remotely interesting thus far.

Drew writes,

I agree with you about Jack and I think this is where I understand where Ben is coming from with his frustration with the character development in Lost.  If anyone is the main character in Lost, it is Jack and his character is so erratic–its like he is uber bi-polar to the point where it is not believable.  I have never really been impressed with Jack or found his story all that compelling, which is why I enjoy Lost because I find Desmond, Sayid, and Jin’s stories far more interesting.

Leading up to the season premier, we’ll discuss the show so far, and what we might expect in the coming weeks and months. Once the show starts, you can expect regular updates, in which we discuss each episode and its implications.

Previous Installments:
Pre-season: Lost’s Biggest Question.
Pre-season, part 2:  Lost’s Free Will Dilemma

Warning! If you are not completely caught up with Lost, you won’t want to read any further.

Ben writes,

Ok guys, I’ve been holding off on the Lost conversation till now. I just didn’t feel I had much to add. But after last night, things have gone a little too far and I want to hear your thoughts.

First, my favorite part of the show was always strong character building. However, it seems that they have completely abandoned realistic portrayal of individual struggles. Instead, they throw characters from one wild extreme to another, not caring about history or perspective or learning over time.

Example A was the idiocy of Sawyer deciding that he is going to kill Jack (or later, let him “suffer like the rest of us”). Really? Your girlfriend dying by her own choice and then affirming her decision suddenly removes all history with Jack, and blames him for not knowing what would happen when they set off a nuclear weapon near an ill-defined power source for an island that can leap through time? Even when your girlfriend said he was right? This sort of foolish, pasted-in emotion is cartoon quality stuff.

Second, the supposed faith vs. science theme is a joke. Merely repeating a variety of circumstances over and over where characters pick one or the other is not an exploration of a theme… it’s just repetition. If I tell you 45 stories of different people deciding whether to have the usual for lunch or to try something new, that doesn’t qualify as insightful exposition of decision making.

And finally, sticking random religious elements into a show is something anyone can do. Actually using those elements helpfully is something else entirely. Was Sayid “baptised”? Who cares? It clearly had nothing to do with real baptism’s purpose. How is that good art?

Ok, one more complaint. The hollow religious icon in the guitar case containing a note was just silly.

Richard writes,

Ben, I think you’re being too hard on Lost, and my primary argument is simply to point out that it’s a television show. Let me explain…

I don’t at all mean that television is by default of a lower quality than books and film. That’s an easy excuse, and if that were the case, I want to spend my time elsewhere. You can get out of television a series of benefits that you don’t get anywhere else, just as you can from books a film.

It is in fact that drastic difference between mediums that I think you may be forgetting, which is particularly unfortunate when you consider the fact that Lost has been extremely successful in taking advantage of its’ own medium. The mysteries stretched out over years, the huge amount of water-cooler conversation, and yes, the ability to get to know and relate to the characters of lost all take advantage of the medium and would not be able to be replicated in film.

It’s understandable that you would see this 2 hour premiere event as a standalone thing, but let’s establish some perspective:

First, as you alluded to, we’ve seen sawyer grow as a person throughout the series, but while you might find it idiotic that Sawyer would slip into kill-mode after the blast and death of Juliet, to me it’s perfectly understandable that Sawyer would have a sort of lapse after what truly is one of the most soul-crushing developments we’ve seen on the show yet. All of the Lost crew were disappointed it didn’t work, but Sawyer lost what appears to be his one true love in the process. And let’s not downplay the significance of Sawyer having a “one true love” in the first place. I think the “lapse” shows as much growth as it does anything.

Second, the faith vs. science thing: I think the “repetition” is frustrating to you because, again, this is a television show, which is episodic and long-running in nature. They’re trying to drive a theme home, and unfortunately since the show has not finished yet, it’s hard to decipher exactly what that theme is. I’m not going to say it’s going to be brilliant, but I do think you go a little too far in calling it “a joke.” To me, the debate has been much more than people picking one or the other, and I don’t really think that’s the focus anyway. Instead, the focus has been the struggle inherent in trying to pick one or the other, and what it does to you. Even when Jack and Locke traded sides, they still struggled and had doubts about those decisions.

Finally, the random religious imagery: What we’re looking for here is clues, not big incredible metaphors. So yes, I think it might be relevant that Sayid seemed to be baptized, especially since he died and rose again afterward. It’s not that the moment was brilliantly artistic. It’s just that it may have some significance for those of us who enjoy trying to figure out what in the world is going on.

The nature of the TV show is that it’s only as good as it’s final season, and we’re just not there yet. I actually really like the concept of the “flash sideways” to different realities, especially since the writers have said that these realities are both equally valid.

Alan, David, what about you guys? Did the premiere delight, frustrate, underwhelm, or confound you? Or all of the above? And where does Lost now stand on the free will issue?

Ben writes,

I don’t think you’re really addressing my concerns by pointing out that it is a television show.  I wasn’t complaining about the 2 hour premiere itself, I was complaining about the way the episode fit into the larger context of the show as a whole.

Richard writes,

I’m going to make this short so other people can talk, but the famed Lost recapper, Jeff Jenson had this to say about Sawyer’s reaction:

Complicating the intensifying friction between Jack and Sawyer was Juliet’s final words. Sawyer gleaned them by forcing Mikes to perform his talks-to-the-dead magic. ”It worked,” Miles reported. Sawyer was flummoxed. What ‘worked’? Sawyer stomped away, bitter. My take on Sawyer is that he really blames himself for losing Juliet — that his little piece of heaven was rescinded because someone upstairs realized he hadn’t earned it, that what in fact he deserves is (eternal) punishment. (Remember, the man was a con man — and he is a murderer.) I think maybe Sawyer betrayed as much in his later line to Kate: ”He deserves to suffer on this rock just like the rest of us.” It was misdirected anger, but that’s Sawyer all over. If he has to pay for his sins, then by golly, everyone else will, too.

Leading up to the season premier, we’ll discuss the show so far, and what we might expect in the coming weeks and months. Once the show starts, you can expect regular updates, in which we discuss each episode and its implications.

Read Last Tuesday’s discussion, Lost’s Biggest Question.

Warning! If you are not completely caught up with Lost, you won’t want to read any further.

Richard writes,

David, you asked whether it seemed like Jack had become the “man of faith” in this season, and I think you’re absolutely right. One thing I think is fascinating (and I mentioned this on last week’s podcast) is the way Jack and John are being forced to go outside their default positions. We see a pretty realistic extreme shift to the other assumption, and in this season I think we will see both Jack and John come to similar places emotionally and spiritually when they finally find a nice middle ground between the two. In other words, they’re going to find a kind of peace.

This kind of addresses Alan’s concern, that Lost was relying too much on a Faith vs. Reason dichotomy. I think they’re demonstrating the failure of both extremes, only to bring us to a place where we accept a more helpful position. The question is whether they do it well.

Of course, as we head toward the big premiere this Tuesday, the big question the show intended to present before us is whether or not they will be able to change the past/present/future. I think they probably will, but they will still retain all of their memories and the things they learned from the experiences they had. The conflict between Kate and Jack was that Jack wanted to erase the past completely, while Kate wanted to keep living within it. Neither will get their wish, but in my opinion, they’ll get something much better, and something we all pine for: A chance to start over with 20/20 hindsight. A chance to do it all again. A chance to make it right. In other words, a chance at redemption. That’s what I predict will open up the season.

Of course, we know that were we given a chance to do it all again (and were adam and eve given another garden), we’d just find another, more creative way to screw it all up. I think you’ll see that conflict hanging over our character’s heads throughout the season.

Alan writes,

Rich, this talk of redemption and changing the past finally brings us to the big question of Season 6: what the heck is going to happen? Did the bomb work? If it did, what are we going to be watching this season?

More importantly though is the question of whether or not the show’s producers will allow for the possibility of free will. In Season 5 Daniel Faraday dies trying to alter the course of “what happened.” Despite the fact that we had been previously told (by Faraday) that no one can change history, Faraday tries to prevent the explosion of electromagnetic energy at the Swan station, thus changing the events that led to the original plane crash. However, as we know, his mother kills him before he can go through with his plans. I loved Faraday’s character and was sad when his mother killed him, especially when I realized that his “present day” mother sent him back to the island knowing that she would kill him in the past (Is it possible to talk about time-travel without sounding ridiculous?). But what was even more potentially troubling about his death was the fact that it seemed to suggest, symbolically if nothing else, that free will was doomed. Faraday literally dies striving to exert his will against history in order to save lives.

Since Rich gave us his prediction for Season 6, I’ll go on record a guess that the bomb was successful, but not in the way Faraday intended.

Richard writes,

Well, Alan, since you brought up Calvinism and free will, and since I talked about how impossible it must be to redeem oneself, even if given the explicit chance, let’s point out what Calvinism’s answer to free will officially is: Total Depravity, or the belief that man is completely incapable of doing or choosing good (or God) on his own. Isn’t it interesting that the series seems so incredibly focused on the same old faults for its’ ensemble? This is the sort of thing that would be incredibly frustrating if the show only had two or three key players, but because individual stories are spaced out so much, we don’t get quite as frustrated that Jack is always falling off the wagon, Kate is always running away, Hurley is always indulging himself, Locke is always lying to himself, Sayid keeps killing and/or torturing people, and Ben is always manipulating people.

And over and over, there are hints that the best thing the characters could do is to “let go,” dangerous advice for a lazy person who doesn’t care, but that’s not what we’re dealing with here. We’re dealing with characters who are in fact obsessed with controlling their own destiny and righting their own wrongs. They think that they have the will to do this. This season, it’s likely we’ll see if their will is strong enough.

For the next two Tuesdays, we’ll discuss the show so far, and what we might expect in the coming weeks and months. Once the show starts, you can expect regular updates, in which we discuss each episode and its implications.

Warning! There are spoilers down there!

Richard writes,

I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been moved by a television show more than I was moved during the season finale of Lost. Ben’s struggle, which we see hints of throughout the season, is pretty clearly a struggle with faith, but not the kind we often pay lip-service to. In fact, I’d say it’s a far more common struggle. Rather than doubting Jacob’s existence, he doubts that it’s in his best interest to follow him. He shows an unwavering faith for an incredibly long time until he finally can’t take it anymore, and he is understandably outraged. The writing here is brilliant: Ben doesn’t go on an overwrought angry tirade. Instead, he mournfully explains his feelings of rejection, frustration, and confusion at Jacob’s ways. It’s clear he doesn’t ask for much, but he is asking for something: simple acknowledgment. For me, the heartbreaking moment? When Ben asks, “What about me?”, Jacob replied with a neutral expression: “What about you?” The look on Ben’s face is shock. Who expects that, when given the chance to ask God that one question we’ve always wondered, he would respond with something like: “Who are you, oh man?”

One thing can’t be denied: Ben’s struggle is a common one and one that we’ve got to acknowledge if we’re going to have an honest conversation about faith.

Lost is certainly trying to do just that. A theme of the show from the beginning has been the seeming contest between faith (John Locke) and reason (Jack Shepard). My question is this: where do you think they’re going from here? Should we brace ourselves for the most powerful and convincing case against God ever produced in a television show, or are they presenting this conflict only to resolve it?

Anything else you guys are looking forward to finding out next season?

David writes,

I would also ask this question: does it seems like Jack has become a man of faith in this most recent season?

Alan writes,

The Faith vs. Reason theme that has been central to the show from the beginning has always interested me, and I’m excited to see what Season 6 brings. One of the problems I’ve had with this theme, however, has been that Faith has typically been portrayed as a leap-of-faith. People in the show tend to have “faith” in things or people or the island when they just believe in something, despite reason. This either Faith or Reason dichotomy which seems to often define the theme in the show is precisely the kind of Faith that we want to distance ourselves from as Christians. We should be rejecting the mystical vs scientific, emotional vs rational, ancient vs modern divisions that dominate contemporary discourse on Faith. That all said, there are many interesting ways in which the show’s writers have problematized these divisions. Locke’s gut-feeling faith has occasionally helped him out, and occasionally lead to disaster. Meanwhile, Jack’s reason has often been little more than gut-feelings disguised as the “logical thing to do.” I’m quite curious to see how this theme plays out this season. Will we get any sort of closure to the theme?

Probably the biggest question I have going into Season 6 is who Christian is, I mean, other than Jack’s dad, and why is he named Christian? There are many strange connections between Christian and Christ, as any good Lost site will tell you (the most obvious is that he appears to have risen from the dead in some sense). If he is supposed to represent Christ, or Christians, I’m anxious to see what the producers intend to do with him.

Ben writes,

I don’t know that Glee needed to redeem itself… I like the show overall. That said, I always appreciate it when a storyteller can both tie up loose ends AND up the ante, and that definitely happened in this case. They certainly didn’t back down from making things more complex even as former tensions are resolved. Speaking of assumptions, haven’t we all been assuming Rachel and Finn were pretty much destined for each other? And yet in short order Finn has both resisted her advances and declared his love for Quinn. Intense!

As far as complaints, I do have two. First, I thought it was a somewhat ugly moment when Emma explained the actions of Will’s wife by saying, “You’re a lot to lose, Will.” This is ridiculous flattery and seems to promote condescension in Will, as in, “Perhaps I should show her grace because let’s face it, who could stand to lose me?” It is a call to look on one’s spouse with pity because they are a desperate, lesser person. While the show has certainly spent a lot of time making exactly that point, it’s not the right way for someone in Will’s position to handle that problem.

The other complaint has to do with the, “Who said anything about divorce?” line. Though I think your analysis is dead-on and extremely insightful, it bothered me that the line was directed toward Emma. Emma has done a lot to stay completely above board throughout the show; she has found small ways to separate herself from Will whenever they become to close, she has avoided giving him poisonous or unhelpful advice, and in that particular moment she was even gently defending Will’s wife.

Meanwhile, Will has been flirty and cute with Emma, given her special attention and praise, put her in compromising positions (the man should never have invited her to help with cleaning, put chalk on her nose, gone to see her wedding dresses, asked her to be a special guest judge, etc…), and just been uncareful or unaware of his effect on her.

So when he self-righteously says, “Who said anything about divorce?” I think she has a lot more to be insulted about than him. If the show acknowledges this in future episodes, great. But if they try to make it out like he’s being the Boy Scout and she the unreasonable one, I’ll be annoyed.

Ben writes,

Hey Rich,

The most recent episode certainly took a step back from the absurd! It was nice to see some of the loose ends being tied back in.

Throughout the episode, one simple thought kept running through my mind; actions have consequences! You cannot hide a pregnancy from your husband, you cannot flaunt the rules, and you cannot avoid being identified with groups you commit yourself to.

And yet the show also seemed to say that even though there are consequences, accepting those consequences is healthier than hiding from them. When Will discovers his wife’s lie, it is one of the most intense scenes of the show thus far. And yet, in some way it brings clarity to their relationship that it desperately needed; and thanks to Emma, that clarity does not necessarily result in seperation yet. When Sue enforces the rules governing payment for performance, the club loses its leader- and yet they are made to realize their pursuit of stardom can hurt people around them. And when Quinn chooses to commit herself entirely to Glee, outmaneuvering Sue in the process, she identifies entirely with a much lower social class than she is used to- but realizes she is better for it. Even something as simple as a yearbook picture becomes a metaphor for accepting the consequences of your choices!

In short, I was deeply appreciative that this episode addressed my problem with storylines that managed to float in the air episode after episode. Great show!

Rich writes,

Yep, this was definitely one of the good ones. We’ve both been waiting for Will’s wife to be portrayed in some less villainous way, and the show seems to have been leading us to this point just so it could sucker punch us with the idea. That’s a technique that is often called into question, and I’m a bit undecided, but the show used it to great affect, making us feel a genuine and appropriate guilt not only for hating his wife but also for assuming that a divorce is inevitable. When Will replies to Emma, “Who said anything about divorce?” it was as if the show was directing the question back at us. And yet, the show is well aware that the cultural context we are in means that we read the storyline up to this point as the story of an inevitably doomed marriage. I don’t know where it’s going to go from here, but I’m glad they’ve at least called that into question.

As a side note, it only goes to show how worldview can affect one’s storytelling. Many people writing movie and television scripts view divorce as inevitable after some huge deception or betrayal like this. Glee calls that assumption out for what it is: lazy storytelling.

All that said, surely you have some complaints about the episode? Or did Glee just redeem itself?

Ben writes,

Rich, it seems you are arguing that instances of absurdity in the show require the watcher to suspend normal standards for ALL aspects of the show. So, a teacher acting crazy over here means you can’t expect reasonable behavior (or even basic knowledge of procreation) from a high school senior over there. This is a mistake; the show thrives on both elements.

So, on the one hand it is purposefully silly and absurd to suggest that cheerleaders’ dry cleaning goes to Europe, or a woman would get the whole school high on Vitamin D, or that a local TV station would promote Sue’s Corner. On the other hand, the show asks that you believe in sincere things like the emotional struggles around a teen pregnancy, the ups and downs of romance, or the desire to help the unpopular kids gain confidence in themselves. Is it really so wrong for me to think a high school senior have basic knowledge of the world? Does this really need to be an instance of absurdity?

I think we just disagree on the Glenn Beck reference in regard to Quinn’s parents; in my mind that portion completely overshadowed the problem of poor parenting as a whole and focused attention on a particular type of hyper-religious, thoughtlessly conservative person, allowing everyone else to feel smug and superior.

My biggest issue for discussion after this week is that I have come to both appreciate and be frustrated by the way the show takes characters through cycles. I appreciate it because we learn about the characters at different paces… instead of ten little four-minute vignettes per week, we get strong focus on two or three stories at a time, with the strongest focus on different people every couple of weeks. This allows us to have deeper appreciation for and understanding of the characters.

That is why I would disagree with you about whether the show is making Puck and Quinn more central characters than Finn and Rachel. It’s true that the last few episodes have placed stronger and more interesting emphasis on the “bad couple,” leading us to see their more complex sides. I think this is a great way to tell the story. However, I feel fairly confident saying the larger story arc is going to keep the original, “good couple” at the center, while not becoming boring by ONLY talking about their narrative.

I do have some frustrations with this approach. For one thing, story lines are left hanging all the time (do we even know whether Tina has dropped her speech impediment in normal company, or how Ken and Emma’s “relationship” is progressing?). More problematically, it can often lead to inconsistent character arcs. In Quinn’s case, as we said, we have seen a slow turnaround whereby her participation in Glee and the coinciding drama of her pregnancy have slowly brought her around to being a more thoughtful, interesting character… though still manipulative and demanding. That’s great stuff. But what about Puck? For a long time he was an extremely cruel, self-centered character… then he suddenly put Glee higher in priority than football, went out of his way to pursue love interests in a gentle and romantic way, and sought to take responsibility for the baby. Then, in “Hairography,” he seems to take it all back, sexting with another girl and not feeling even remotely guilty. Explain it how you want, but this is simply uneven storytelling and I think it flows from the way they cycle key characters in and out.

No arguments on Schuster’s wife, she was clearly placed there to add tension to his relationship with Emma. False pregnancy, car distraction, Vitamin D, taking someone else’s baby… she seems beyond redemption as a character of value.

Here’s hoping for fleshed-out stories and consistent characters!

Rich writes,

I guess I just expect that the show has reserved for itself the right to be silly and over the top in regards to outward, trivial aspects of characters and their qualities, but that the show has a habit of clearly signaling when it wants you to take something seriously. I’m not convinced this is the best way to handle these situations (as evidenced by our confusion) but it establishes why Finn’s absurd stupidity is basically ignored in the midst of the story’s more realistic and emotional moments.

I am officially claiming the last word on the Glenn Beck & Quinn’s parents argument. I win. There, let’s move on from that.

I feel you on the problem with character cycles. On the other hand, isn’t that how life works? Television has a unique ability to portray the utter inability human beings often have to change in any real way over a small amount of time. This is why it was such a brilliant moment when Puck declared, “I’m gonna be a good dad. But I’m not gonna stop being me to do it.” Though Puck was probably a little bit too self-aware and self-aggrandizing, he did acknowledge a real struggle that we face in life. It’s just freaking hard to change. Quinn’s assumption that Puck was suddenly a great guy who got rid of all of his horrible ways was just wrong.

Obviously, though, I’m going to disagree with Puck’s definition of “good dad.”

I don’t want to dwell too much on who’s the star of the show. My point was that Glee seems to treat each of its characters as real characters, at least when it’s their turn to have a storyline. It mimics, again, the way life works for many of us. We view people from afar and they are just characters to us, but when we get to know them and their problems, they become real people with sympathetic problems and difficult struggles.

I guess I feel like Glee’s apparent inability to make up its mind may actually just be a reflection of the characters themselves and their inability to make up their mind. That’s why I’m willing to be patient with the show. People suck, and sometimes the show sucks because of it. Call it artistic sacrifice. Or Something.

See the previous Glee discussion.

In the CaPC Water-Cooler series, we view a popular television show, movie, or other popular culture landmark and discuss it to death. Forgive the casual nature of the entries. We kind of like them that way.

There are currently three ways to keep up:

1. Keep refreshing this page, which will be updated regularly with links to the individual entries.

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3. Once the series has slowed to a halt, we’ll link to this page again in the “Of the Moment” section of the site.

We look forward to hearing what you think of the series and our thoughts!

Entries (Warning! Spoilers Ahead!):

1. “I found Hairography to be one of the most encouraging episodes in a while.”

2. “I’m going to disagree with Puck’s definition of ‘good dad’.”

3. “Actions have consequences!”

4. “I don’t know that Glee needed to redeem itself.”

Ben writes,

Finn’s mom is okay, though she was way over the top in the early going. “Who needs a man?” she asks while teaching her son to drive, which is a totally misdirected argument. The power of the moment in the previous episode was the sparse, disciplined writing that gave credit to the audience for knowing that conversations happen more like this and less like 10 minutes of exposition.

Definitely concede the point on Quinn… I’ve been very impressed by her portrayal. The slow swing from jerky because she’s popular to sweetened by the compassion that comes with pain and suffering has been a terrific story arc.

Finn is a senior in high school who does not know that you can’t get a girl pregnant through your swimsuit, hot tub water, and her swimsuit. He plays for a team that never wins and thinks he can get a football scholarship. He gets and follows advice from his gay friend on how to handle whether or not to tell a girl’s parents that she is pregnant without her consent. He can’t figure out how to make a few dollars to help his girlfriend out. He is an over-the-top moron. Puck is a disgusting human being, but at least he shows a little spunk, emotion, creativity, and even thoughtfulness. Finn’s been coming in a distant second to him for a while now.

I don’t argue using stereotypes. Her parents could have been the EXACT stereotypes they were without two things… the Glenn Beck comment and the religious comments. Without those two, this is a stereotype that helpfully challenges having the wrong priorities, drinking to stay happy, pushing problems aside, putting the wrong kind of pressure on your kids, and the negative things that result from those issues. WITH those two things, and especially without ever having anyone else who is conservative or religious on the show, it takes the focus off the negative behaviors and places it squarely on the hypocrisy and self-centeredness of religious political conservatives. Just try and tell me that more liberal, non-Christian viewers didn’t immediately have negative connotations reinforced in their minds, rather than learning a lesson about negative parenting behaviors.

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the Suzy Pepper storyline. There’s a good example of a story that was a bit silly and over the top, but helpful without being overly mean in the process. And they gave her a terrific moment of dignity at the end, which was great. It used a sort of geeky stereotype to tell the story, but gave a sense of hope that these things can be gotten over and dignity can return.

On Kurt, I just flat out disagree. Loneliness is a good storyline, though they’ve reinforced several times that Glee has been a huge windfall for him in terms of being one of the most popular kids in the club. This should be a reniassance for him! But even if we divide out popularity and love, mooning over the dumb jock is stupid, especially when two weeks ago he was betraying the guys (regarding Vitamin D) because his relationship with the girls was more important to him.

Kurt is usually portrayed as one of the most sophisticated and articulate people in the group… gives good advice, puts his feelings into words, etc. For someone like that to have some notion they can take an idiot jock (who he thinks is going to be a father!) and turn him gay is nowhere in the realm of believability.

Rich writes,

Yes, Finn is dumb by our real-world standards, but we’re talking about a world where singing to each other is basically seen as not all that awkward, and where you can fool your husband into thinking your pregnant for, well a really long time. Also, Sue Sylvester is still employed. This is a hyper-stylized world of craziness, and the stereotypes are pushed to extremes as well, hence Finn’s extreme mental density.

Judging from the reaction my wife has to Puck’s dillema, you may be right about him. Does girls fascination with this guy have to do with their love of the bad guy or something else?

I find it hard to believe that a simple joke about Glenn Beck and the religious references could sway the reaction of a bunch of liberals. My feeling is anyone who has their stereotypes reinforced as a result probably wanted them reinforced and they were reading all of that into them anyway. Would I have liked it if they left those references out? Yes. But they by no means overshadowed the thoughtful way they wrote the discussion about the pregnancy. I admit though: the dad’s performance needs some subtlety. It could have been way better…

…Okay, I wrote all of that the previous week, before I took vacation, got a horrific allergy attack, and was otherwise occupied. Since, I have watched the new episode of Glee (Hairography) which, encouragingly, addresses exactly some of the issues we’ve been discussing. It seems to me that, surprisingly, Quinn has come full circle to becoming the full-fledged star and protagonist of the show, replacing Rachel, whom we now just kind of pity.

Oh, and btw, I was really impressed by how they recovered from Kurt’s storyline from the previous episode – which I concede at this point after your argument and a confirming comment from Kiel - by having him basically acknowledge that he was being dumb. In this episode, even though he’s kind of a jerk, he’s also kind of a nice wise, Yoda-like figure here.

It wasn’t perfect, but I found Hairography to be one of the most encouraging episodes in a while, just because it goes out of the way to address so many of the concerns and complaints both you and I had about the show. I still have 2 complaints though: Finn is still an incredible moron, and though they gave lip-service to Mr. Scheuster’s wife having some sort of a soul, they kind of punted this episode. I’m hoping that’s going to improve, but her character is hurtling quickly toward the point of no return for me.