As with any job, being a professional sports athlete requires a separation between personal and professional perspectives. Failing to do so, results in the professional side suffering due to personal troubles. In the past month, the sports world has tuned in to a soap opera of professional/personal balance that centers on the statements of three actors.

Metta World Peace, Forward, Los Angeles Lakers

As if elbowing James Harden in the cranium was not enough, Mr. World Peace literally added insult to injury. When asked if he would reconcile with Harden in the upcoming playoff contest, MWP brashly told reporters, “I don’t shake substitutes’ hands,” referring to Harden’s role as first man off the bench of the Oklahoma City Thunder’s NBA team. This personal opinion was given as a professional statement—and the twitterverse went crazy with buzz.

Josh Beckett, Pitcher, Boston Red Sox

Mr. Beckett recently skipped a game due to injury and then played golf the next day. When asked to account for his actions and whether he feels a sense of guilt, Mr. Beckett gave the following personal opinion:

Not on my off day . . . We get 18 off days a year. I think we deserve a little time to ourselves.

Accordingly, fans and reporters (who help to pay his $16 million/year salary) were outraged and vocal in their frustration.

Ron Brown, Assistant Coach, Nebraska Cornhuskers

Mr. Brown made headlines in April when he attended an Omaha City Council hearing to oppose an ordinance protecting gay and lesbian citizens from discrimination. During his three-minute plea, Mr. Brown asked with the council to remember the ”great accountability for the decision you are making.” The only problem with Mr. Brown’s personal plea is that he listed Memorial Stadium, the location where the state-funded University of Nebraska football team plays its home games, as his residence. Nebraska athletic director and legendary retired head coach Tom Osborne briefly commented on Mr. Brown’s actions saying, “I think it’s important that there be clarity with what you do in your capacity at the university and what you do as a private citizen.” In light of this professional faux pas, Mr. Brown quickly apologized.

Commentary and Conclusion

These three case studies highlight the double edged nature of celebrity. A public figure’s job is perceived as their master status. Thus, any time athletes, or any other professionals for that matter, act and speak publicly, they represent and speak for their organizations whether they intend to or not. The reason is simple: Fans have difficulty separating the professional and personal in the modern world of reality television and 24-hour news cycles. Call it the Katniss Principle, as thedailybeast.com writer Glyniss MacNicol has defined it:

Unlike those of us who agonize over the ever-shifting privacy concerns of social-media sites like Facebook, Katniss is not only constantly aware of the public gaze, but is so reconciled to its realities that is does not even merit any sort of reflection. Instead she quickly learns to adjust her behavior to take as much advantage of her public persona as she can . . .

Whether he intended to or not, MWP spoke for the Los Angeles Lakers organization: Lakers’ starters don’t shake hands with substitutes. When Josh Beckett skipped a start and played golf, he acted as a symbol for the Boston Red Sox organization. And when Mr. Brown spoke out against homosexuality in favor of the Bible, he did so as a mouthpiece for the University of Nebraska. I am not suggesting that MWP, Mr. Beckett, or Coach Brown change their beliefs. I am merely suggesting those in public positions use caution in the delicate responsibility they have to represent the interests of their organizations.

So the question arises, “How should Christian public figures balance private views and public engagement?”

I suggest that Christian public figures adopt three disciplines:

1. Remember the wise words that one of my coaching friends tells his players, “Words you write (public) come back to bite. Words in the air (private) stay there.”
2. Frame any public remarks with the phrase, “In my personal, and not professional, opinion.”
3. Verbally acknowledge awareness of any diverse interests of the organization you represent. This will counter the “narrow-minded” label from objectors.

Ian and Larissa were very much in love, and from all outward signs their relationship was moving toward marriage. But in 2006, Ian received a traumatic brain injury in a terrible car accident, leaving him in ICU. He eventually made it to rehab and was able to return home, though the effects of the injury were severe and left him in need of constant care. In a moving string of events that followed, Larissa and Ian decided they should get married anyway, and Larissa has been blogging about God’s work in their marriage for quite some time.

The Desiring God blog (one of our Christian subculture-makers) recently featured the online mini-doc above on the site in three parts here, here, and here, using it as a sort of testimonial/advertisement for Piper’s book This Momentary Marriage. (The entire book is available online for free as a PDF, so accusations of tactless plugging for book sales may be somewhat overstated . . . somewhat.) The popularity of Piper’s Desiring God ministry plus readers’ obvious love of the story have pushed the mini-doc viral in the past week, and it was shared and forwarded by countless people all over the Net.

But why did readers love this story so much? Although many have found the modern experience of marriage very frustrating, I think most still harbor a secret hope that marriage can work. Many believe that the idea of the marital institution is dead while sighing loudly and wanting it not to be. Many try to explain divorce rates as simply the result of the inadequacy of an outdated institution, and then belie their true feelings by trying to finagle it into similar options. We want marriage to work, we want to see it succeed. The vast majority of people want to experience the traditional form of marriage and family we so loudly announce as no longer viable.

We share this video because we still want marriage to work. And if a desperate situation like this one can become a place where Christ’s sacrificial love is displayed — where a marriage “working” takes on a new definition entirely — there is hope that perhaps, by God’s grace, the rest of us can pull it off as well.

As a note (one which I add hesitantly), I would also advise the reader to be careful with a beautiful story like this one. Not every pastor would counsel a couple into a union like this – in fact, many would advise against it. Larissa writes that many voices were heavily involved in the decision, and that a judge was required to rule on the issue in court before the marriage could proceed. We should be careful not to make a beautiful story like this prescriptive, which is something evangelicals are especially prone to do.

But it is still a beautiful story, and it communicates something that resonates deeply inside of us. Throughout Scripture, the viability, legitimacy, and necessity of marriage is assumed, with the crowning final thought coming from Paul’s likening of the institution to Christ’s relationship to His church. For the Christian, marriage is more than viable, it is a sacred covenant ordained by God Himself and characteristic of his relationship to His redeemed people. Ian and Larissa’s story is one that intentionally reflects this reality, and for that I am thankful.

Last week, I wrote about myths — specifically, the ones that Josh Tillman has created about life with his band Father John Misty. His are the desperate kind of myths that a person creates for himself once the meaningless pursuits of fame and rock ‘n’ roll fade. But there are plenty of other myths bands explore — for example, take the new record Bloom from dream pop band Beach House.

Unlike the grand facade of money and success that Tillman disposes of, Beach House happily dives into the warmth of the blissful myths we love to live in (or dream of living in). In the opening track “Myth,” frontwoman Victoria Legrand encourages a lover to help her stretch a moment of beauty into something that lasts a lifetime: “If you built yourself a myth, you’d know just what to give/What comes after this, momentary bliss/Help me to make it, Help me to make it.” But it’s really the shimmering guitars, swirling organs, and slathers of reverb that create the moment: Legrand just asks us to step into it.

But Beach House’s dreams of childlike love and naivety don’t always come through in the lyrics. In fact, as often as Legrand is wading in the pools of nostalgia and fuzzy summer memories, she is questioning how real they actually are. In “Wishes,” she thinks back at the memory of a loved one who has passed away and wonders out loud, “Is it even real?”

Because that’s the thing about our memories, isn’t it? Sometimes they can be blurry, biased, and unreliable — much like myths we’ve created. Events in the past are given meaning in our hindsight that bend toward the way we wish things would have happened. Even so, our memories of the past are often the very thing that informs the actions we take each day. How else could we learn from our mistakes? How else could we understand ourselves and the world around us?

Beach House’s album Bloom certainly calls us out on the irrationality of it all. But instead of abandoning the meaning we give to the past, Bloom encourages us to dig deeper into our memories and even find a sunny place to rest our heads. After four albums of pursuing this theme both musically and lyrically, it’s clear that Beach House wants us to find ourselves in the past — who we once were and even who we will become. After all, facts never changed anyone’s life. Only myth and metaphor have that power.

Graduation is upon us. A time of reflecting on the past and dreaming of the future. It is also a time to give people lots of unsolicited advice because most of us have been there before and so we think we know a thing or two about how to conduct oneself in the post-high school world. So, graduating senior, whether you like it or not, get ready for a slew of unsolicited advice from friends, family members, people you vaguely know, and people you wish you didn’t.

Let me sum up most of the advice you will be getting. Your non-Christian friends and family members will encourage you to enjoy your new found freedom. Your Christian friends will tell you to be wary of your new found freedom. Some will tell you to just have a good time. Others will tell you to work really hard in college because you future is on the line. Some will tell you that you will meet lot of attractive singles and that you should enjoy them while you can. Others will warn you against making decisions you will regret with the many attractive singles you will meet. Some people will tell you to choose a major wisely and stick with it, others will tell you not to be afraid to change your major–just make sure you do what you love. Christian friends will encourage you to get involved with a campus ministry organization, try to make good good Christian friends, and develop daily spiritual disciplines of Bible study and prayer.

Some of this is good advice, some of it is not. Most of it is vague enough to be neither good or bad. I would certainly encourage graduates to consider the more spiritually minded advice they are being given, such as to cultivate spiritual disciplines–but those things seem really obvious to me. Consequently, I want to offer you, graduate of 2012, some advice that perhaps most people will not offer. So here are five pieces of unconventional wisdom for graduating seniors:

1. Join a local church and serve. Perhaps this is obvious but I fear that the local church is somewhat out of favor with many young people. I think campus ministries and more insular college ministries are often preferred to full participation in the body of Christ. When we only surround ourselves with people in our same stage of life, we are a far more likely to grow complacent. The diversity we discover in the world outside of college will be far more disarming if we never challenge ourselves to engage people besides other college students. I could go on and on about how to find a good church–what kind of preaching to look for and how to be blessing to that church etc., but for the sake of brevity, I would just say that a solid  local church can care for your soul in ways that no other organization can. Find a good local church–it will bless you tremendously and challenge you to be a blessing to others.

2. Be frugal. Because you are young and no longer under the supervision of your parents, when you go to college there will be lots of people that want your money. If we have learned anything from Occupy Wall Street, hopefully it is this: Americans are not wise stewards of their money. People will offer you incredible student loans at seemingly good rates, credit card companies will all but throw their cards at you. In short, you will have no shortage of money and few people around you encouraging you to use it wisely. This should be obvious, but in case you have never heard of Dave Ramsey, let me speak clearly–unless that money is a scholarship or a grant, you are going to have to pay it back and then some. The “and then some” is interest and it is not your friend no matter how low it may seem. OWS also serves as a helpful reminder that there are plenty of unemployed college graduates–a college degree is not a guarantee for a decent job that will allow you to pay back your student loans. Don’t be afraid to work during college, it may take you longer to finish but you will be glad that you aren’t paying back all those loans and credit cards for the rest of your life. Despite what you hear, all those loans and credit cards really are optional.

3. Take advantage of college community. When you get out into the real world, you will discover that people aren’t all that interested in hanging out with you or doing the things you like to do. In college, perhaps because everyone is new and trying to make friends, there are many opportunities to do things with other people that you enjoy doing. Join a intramural sports league, a conservation society, or a gaming club. Do something you enjoy with other people who enjoy it too. College students are at a rare stage in life when people are hungry for community rather than walling themselves off from it. Take advantage of that–as a Christian this is a tremendous opportunity to get to know people in natural ways and point them toward Christ.

4. Take care of yourself. Mom and Dad are no longer there to cook for you and you probably aren’t playing football or basketball or running cross country anymore, at least not like you used to. Watch what you eat. Consider learning to cook real meals with real food (something that doesn’t come in a box). Doing so might also impress one of those attractive singles I mentioned earlier. Find some form of exercising that is practical and that you enjoy. Most colleges have gyms that are free–you won’t get that deal anywhere else, use it while you can!

5. Your best days are yet to come. Someone has surely told you that your best days are over. They will say “I hope you enjoyed yourself in high school because those were the best days of your life” or some such nonsense. Such advice couldn’t be further from the truth for me and perhaps that means it is all a matter of perspective. I would never go back to high school. And I say that as someone whose high school years were positive (overall). Many of you will get married soon and have children–if you approach those opportunities carefully and thoughtfully you will find much more joy in them than any of your high school glories. Even if you don’t get married and have kids, if you can develop a vision for your future that goes beyond yourself, you will find that the years getting better and better.

“I like Johnny Cash, but I don’t really like country music”.

As a country music nerd, this is a “bridge the gap” response in many a conversation about music. Which, to be fair, who doesn’t love Johnny Cash? He walked the line! His sound is accessible, mystical and pure old time country music. His success has been cross-genre because of his association with Sun Records (instead of Nashville), his numerous collaborations and his rock and roll radio hits, so naturally people who don’t like country music have been exposed the great Johnny Cash.

He is what might be called an “accessible” Country singer. Garth Brooks had some similar crossover, as did the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack. There is something so appealing about country music when it is packaged outside of the typical Country music box.  But other absolutely stunning artists get buried in the “country-music genre” that are only uncovered by those already sold on the country sound.

For example, I don’t know very many people that say “Oh, I don’t like country music but I really like Kasey Chambers”.

Did you listen to that song? It’s exceptional! If you like that song then there is very little room to say that you don’t like country. Because that is country. Yet this stuff can get buried in the baggage of country music. Every genre/culture/group/etc… has baggage and it’s easy to tell what that baggage is. Just think of the negative stereotypes of something: that is the baggage. Country music has to fight off a reputation of ignorance, militant patriotism, cheesiness and extremely abrasive, poorly played banjos and slide guitars.

And such is the church. Just like country music, there are parts of the church that people who are not in the church like. Just like my country music conversation, I have had just as many “Yeah, I’m not really a Christian but I like [XYZ] about Jesus” when the subject of Christianity comes up. Which, since Romans 1:19 is true and people are in fact made in the image of God, makes good sense why people would like parts of the Christian message. The golden rule, the Sermon on the Mount and “God is love” (1 John 4:8) are the “Johnny Cash“s of Christianity. They are the things about Christianity that fit well to a preexisting philosophy. These things have been presented in a positive light and break the negative stereotypes that many have towards Christianity. It becomes easy to identify with one or two principles of Christianity but not Christianity itself. But there is a problem with this way of thinking: it isn’t real life.

When you reject the label you miss the big picture. With country music, it’s the rich culture, history and music that may just exceed your assumptions. With Christianity it is the church, the beautiful doctrine and God Himself.

Sure, the negative stereotypes are a part of it all (Country music is in fact responsible for Toby Keith and Branson, Missouri…we’re so sorry) but when you embrace something in its fullness and behold it in it’s proper context then the stereotypes sometimes make sense. For example, when you understand that Christians evangelize because they have the greatest news possible (atonement for sin, relationship with the Creator of the Universe and a pardon from hell) it makes much more sense and even becomes beautiful. The gospel is like a magnificent choir, if you only listen to one or two singers then you miss the beautiful arrangement.

Just like Country music’s twang becomes a look into the archives of the rural American landscape where most people couldn’t afford violins, pianos or electric guitars but had to make due with what they had. As CS Lewis has said, looking at something, whether it be Christianity or Country Music, will always present a skewed picture of the entity itself. Instead, we must look along them to comprehend their true worth, beauty, truth and substance. To look along is to see what others see as they see it, not just to critique from the outside. So before you write off country music or Christianity, consider the context and be assured that there is beauty beyond the crossover hits.

It seems as though most Christians paid attention to the movement for roughly the first month, made up their mind that the movement was misguided and essentially pagan, and moved on. Pat Robertson labeled the movement a “rebellion” of people who are “just mad.” Writing for Christianity Today’s website, Bruce Wydick said the real problem lied not with Wall Street moguls but instead with Americans in general, due to the creation of “material entitlement” that has “infected our personal choices, our politics, and our financial system.”

No doubt material entitlement has entered the American psyche. You need look no further than pictures and videos from the Occupy encampments to find the entitlement exemplified by an array of iPhones, MacBooks, and the like. The central grievance of Occupiers is that they did all the things society told them to do—buy a house outside their price range, get a collegiate education courtesy of Sallie Mae, and so on—and they came up short when their respective version of the American Dream proved illusory. The Blaze’s Billy Hallowell is right to argue that these protesters must take responsibility where applicable.

But while these are legitimate grounds for concern, they are not reason enough to discredit the Occupiers as inherently misguided, or even anti-Christian. Even if one considers the movement anti-Christian based on their sense of material entitlement, this is ground for engagement and dialogue, not dismissal.

Whatever Occupiers’ spiritual leanings may be, they display obvious parallels to many Christian principles. The movement’s agreed-upon means of consensus decision making has theological roots. Activist L. A. Kauffman traces these roots to the Quaker belief in corporate guidance, which acknowledges the work of the Holy Spirit in directing people’s decisions and actions, all the while uniting the community of believers. Further precedent can be found in Acts (4:32-35, for instance), where consensus had to be reached to meet everyone’s needs and to foster community. While many Occupiers may not know what they do, they are still building genuine community through what formal structures they have.

The Occupy movement also adheres to the principles of non-violence, popularized during the Civil Rights Movement by Martin Luther King, Jr. Christ laid the foundation for non-violent resistance by rebuking Peter’s resistance against Christ’s arrest. Christ’s lesson seems to have stuck; when Peter himself is arrested in Acts 4, there is no indication that Peter resists arrest.

Because of its democratic policy of consensus guidance, the movement discourages outliers from engaging in violent action against police forces, for the media will quickly magnify those violent protesters as though they represented all participants in the movement. As journalist Naomi Klein pointed out in her speech on October 6 last year, the lack of violence has drawn more attention to the injustice of occasional acts of police brutality. As I explain in my column May Day and the Danger of Violence, and as Peter realized through his two run-ins with the law (mentioned above), nonviolence can often be more fruitful than violent action.

But while these features mirror some Christian qualities, Occupy Wall Street has something important to offer Christians: a much-needed opportunity to re-evaluate the tacit acceptance of free-market capitalism as the best available economic system.

Starting in the 1970s, prominent free-market economists successfully overthrew the belief in safeguarding markets with regulations. They convinced major leaders like Ronald Reagan and British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher to embrace free-market policies and deregulation. This economic ideology, or belief system, has essentially taken hold of the American psyche, so much so that those questioning capitalism are often derided as “un-American” and socialist (which, in their minds, is automatically stupid).

Yet as social activist Raj Patel has said, the 2008 Great Financial Crisis has made people realize they are in “a world turned upside down, where everything we were told was to our advantage has turned out to be its opposite.” The disillusionment felt when we discovered the gambles taken by business executives with our money accounts for why Occupy movement participants said in their Declaration of the Occupation of New York City that they are representing “a feeling of mass injustice” caused by dangerous decisions made by the “corporate forces of the world.”

For Christians it should come as no surprise that the world tipped over into disarray in 2008. The basic tenets of capitalism are built on the desire for accumulating capital, better known as wealth–and accumulation, as we’ve seen from the Great Financial Crisis, all too often breeds greed. This should strike Christians as deeply troubling.

In I Timothy 6, Paul supplies a series of instructions to ministers working with slaves and slave-masters. For slave and slave-master alike, contentment is recommended because it keeps people from falling into greed. For those who pursue wealth, though, numerous dangers are present:

“But those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a snare and many foolish and harmful desires which plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all sorts of evil, and some by longing for it have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with much grief.” (9-10)

Elsewhere Christ says that those who pursue wealth risk gaining the world at the expense of forfeiting their souls (Matthew 6:26). They who forfeit their souls are aware of having done so and are thus afflicted with grief (whether they admit it or not).

The pursuit of wealth, however, does not just affect greedy people but also those around them. A person’s greed can lead others to suffer “ruin and destruction”—and have we not seen this in the aftermath of the financial collapse? Many have lost their homes through illegal foreclosures. Investments were lost and savings accounts have dwindled while the unemployed have searched without success for work after being laid off. Keep in mind, too, that the ruin and destruction from this crisis is not just domestic but international.

The Great Financial Crisis has (or should have) reminded us that capitalism is predisposed to and inclined toward evil, just as man is. This is a point most Christians are not used to encountering, but it is nonetheless one they must confront. Few are better situated to help Christians probe this startling reality than the Occupy movement followers.

When faced with complex social issues like the Great Financial Crisis, Christians tend to search their own hearts for sin while neglecting to try to grasp injustice on a wider social scale. It is true that they certainly should probe and repent of their own material entitlement. But Christians are also called to be “in the world,” and an important part of being in the world is trying to understand it—the people in it, the way society functions, and, perhaps new to many, the free-market economic system at work, which negatively and positively influences how so many live. Having searched their hearts, Christians must turn to searching the heart of capitalism—a daunting but necessary task.

Illustration courtesy of Seth T. Hahne. Check out his graphic novel and comic review site, Good Ok Bad.

What bothered me about the cover wasn’t that it featured a partially exposed woman with young child attached to her breast. (Though, to be honest, I do question the wisdom of putting the child in such an exposed position, and in such a public forum to boot. If nothing else, think of the wedgies awaiting that kid when he starts going to school.) Nor was I bothered by the fact that it draws attention to attachment parenting. (We’ve incorporated several attachment parenting philosophies and approaches into our own parenting, for what it’s worth, and find its general principles laudatory.)

What bothered me was the title accompanying the photo: “Are You Mom Enough?” My wife nursed both of our sons, but our daughter was born with a mild birth defect that made it physically impossible for her to nurse. I know of several other mothers who had the desire to nurse, but due to sickness, birth defect, or some other reason, were unable to do so. What’s more, I know families who have adopted children, and as a result, nursing just wasn’t an option for them either. And for some of them, like my wife, the realization that they couldn’t nurse their children was a real struggle because, as mothers, they wanted to nurture and care for their children — and there’s no clearer or more intimate way of doing so than breast-feeding.

Because of this, I can imagine women seeing that title, and if they’re unable to nurse, suddenly feeling worse about their mothering skills and abilities. (I speak from second-hand experience: when my wife found out that she couldn’t nurse our daughter, it was a huge emotional blow that struck heavily at her identity as a mother.) Mothers already face enough challenges as it is, be they physical, spiritual, emotional, social, etc. The last thing they need is yet another voice in the culture suggesting, even if somewhat cheekily, that their mothering isn’t quite up to par because they aren’t nursing or aren’t nursing the “right” way. Or that by nursing, or adhering to some other aspect or philosophy of parenting and childrearing, a woman becomes a more more “real” or “bad-ass” mother than those who don’t.

As far as I’m concerned, any mother who raises their children in a nurturing manner, who cares for them and keeps them alive and healthy, and who provides them with a loving environment — regardless of the philosophy or school that she subscribes to — is more than mom enough.

Élisabeth Badinter’s European bestseller The Conflict: How Modern Motherhood Undermines the Status of Women has found no shortage of critics on this side of the Atlantic. Most of the controversial press comes from Badinter’s claim that breastfeeding is oppressive, a position made more polemical because the author’s public relations firm represents major formula brands like Enfamil and Similac. I find that conflict of interests deeply problematic, but as I read Badinter’s book for myself, I also found myself agreeing with many of her arguments.

The book jacket asserts that “the pressure to provide children with 24/7 availability and empathy has produced a generation of overwhelmed and guilt-laden mothers.” I can question Badinter’s examples as well as the conclusions she draws from them about birthrates, but that single sentence rings true. It also helps to explain the increasing number of women who “opt out” of motherhood, choosing to be child-free because the cultural expectations of motherhood seem so unappealing. On the day after Mother’s Day, when so many churches provide clichéd readings of Proverbs 31 and awkwardly distribute carnations to all the females, I find Badinter’s exploration of childlessness compelling.

On page 12, Badinter outlines the cultural confusion surrounding women, and couples, without children:
a couple without children is always seen as an anomaly, up for interrogation. How strange it is to not have children like everyone else! Childless people are always expected to explain themselves, although it never occurs to anyone to ask a woman why she became a mother (and to insist on getting good reasons), even if she were the most immature and irresponsible of parents. But people who choose to not have children are spared nothing — not the sighing from their parents (whom they deny the joy of grandchildren), not the incomprehension of their friends (who want everyone to do the same thing they’ve done), and not the disapproval of society and the state, both of which are, by definition, pro-birth.

Both Badinter’s book and the child-free couples she describes represent opposition to the belief that motherhood is instinctual, natural, and universally-desired. She traces the rise of modern conveniences (like formula and contraception) and women’s increasing access to education and professional status to illustrate that making more social roles available to women means more women postpone or reject motherhood. What society at large misses, and Badinter forcefully asserts, is that women who choose not to be mothers probably do so with thoughtfulness and careful consideration — precisely because they are constantly made aware that they are not following the established order.

Badinter sets these claims against the backdrop of a culture of individuality in which each member is expected to discover what she will find most fulfilling. For some women, that answer is motherhood — practiced with such intensity that femaleness becomes conflated with motherhood and woman with womb. Some women’s central desire is to mother, some women’s desires for motherhood and other vocations are more mixed, and for some women, there is simply no appeal in the image or ideal of contemporary mothering. What a greater availability of social options reveals, Badinter claims, is the diversity of female desires and the multiplicity of women’s callings.

The byword of modern motherhood is “devotion”, while the epithet of the child-free woman is “freedom”; neither is necessarily superior or inferior, because both depend on what women do with them. Women without children can exercise their freedom to distribute their time, talents, and resources in ways that women responsible for children simply cannot. Badinter’s book is certainly not without its own conflicts, but in a climate that seems determined to see motherhood as an all-consuming sacrifice and the height of womanhood, it is worth noting that those who choose to be child-free can still offer themselves in meaningful and sacrificial ways.

Metaphor for Christians criticizing each other, I guess.

Criticism is always hard to take. And criticism of your community, by those within your community, can be even harder to take. It’s much easier to receive rebuke from those who belong to the Other Side because you can always write it off as a difference in “worldview.” At times in my column (but not all the time), I have sought to lovingly admonish my brothers and sisters in Christ. But I’m afraid that some of my admonitions have not been received or communicated well. Some would even question whether we should be criticizing other believers’ ministries at all.

My Hit List?

Over the last year in my column, I have exhorted, admonished, criticized, warned against, or condemned the following organizations and people, many of whom are Christian:

• AnsweringMuslims.com
• Nationalism in the Church
• The Air Force
• WORLD Magazine
• Elevation Church’s worship team
• Jason Mattera (at Human Events) and Rick Pearcey
• Ray Comfort
• Those who mock Atheists
• Robert Spencer and JihadWatch.com
• John Piper
• Pamela Geller
• Answers in Genesis
• Richard Land
• David Barton

Maybe if I mock this dude's car atheists will think I'm cool, and then I can invite them to church!

This list makes it seem like I’m really a self-loathing Christian, or one of those vocal Christians who tries to win over unbelievers by tearing down the Church—currently, a very popular form of evangelism among young adult Christians (although they would probably scorn the term “evangelism”). Their evangel goes something like this:

“Let’s talk about all the ways the Church is horrible and Christians are stupid bigots. I’m a different kind of Christian, and I think those YEC Christians are the worst. So, you should be a Christian too!”

If I’m honest, I’ll admit that I fall into that style of evangelism sometimes too. Other times, I’m not willing to be critical enough about Christian culture.

It’s very hard not to be a Cheerleader for everything evangelicals do or a Parasite that grows by feeding off of mocking other evangelicals. After all, those do tend to be the two dominate styles of public discourse in our culture: militant and unyielding support, or militant and uncharitable critique.

This is precisely the kind of binary response I have tried to correct in this column, perhaps ineffectively. Although it might not be pleasant, we have a great responsibility to exhort and admonish each other. In fact, I believe that our responsibility to sharpen and admonish each other is much greater than our responsibility to condemn the world.

Why Criticize?

Because we have been received the Gospel and are Christ’s Body, we ought to hold each other to a higher standard than we hold for unbelievers. We see this idea repeatedly in Scripture.

In 1 Peter 4:17, we are warned that judgement must begin with the house of God. Shouldn’t we then admonish each other in anticipation of such judgement?

In Luke 6:42, Christ calls us to remove the plank from our own eye before we attempt to remove the speck from our brothers’. In a like way, shouldn’t we remove the planks, whether they be “planks” of sin or wisdom, from the eyes of our community so that we can better witness to God’s love?

Paul has this concern about our witness in mind when he warns us in Romans 2:21-24 that the name of God is blasphemed among unbelievers because of the hypocrisy of Christians. And what’s Paul’s solution? Teachers should teach themselves. And I would add that so too should the Church teach itself so that the world has no cause to blaspheme God.

Confused Citizenships

The concern of this column has been to address the ways in which we succeed or fail in living in light of the Kingdom of Heaven. And so a common theme has been identifying ways in which we have adopted practices and beliefs that are not fitting with our calling.

My columns have tended towards two major criticisms: 1. the use of uncharitable language and 2. the uncritical acceptance and perpetuation of falsehoods by conservative, evangelical Christians–my community.

The Internet is the worst.

The Internet, which has become for many of us the primary location of public discourse, lends itself to both of these errors. Anonymity and short attention spans encourage short, biting exchanges over nuanced dialogue. And the deluge of data (your twitter or news feed, for example) makes us disinclined to check facts, and so more susceptible to Confirmation Bias.

To make matters worse, the public and indiscriminate nature of most social networks has made it easier for people to influence friends and family. Which means that it is no small error when Christians spread falsehood or use uncharitable language online. It has real ramifications on what other Christians think and do and how unbelievers perceive us and the Faith. And it has been out of a concern over these effects that my columns often come, perhaps a bit overzealously.

The Good News

What is exciting is that Christians have such freedom to critique each other in love because our justification does not come through our works or the purity of the Church. Christ’s finished work on the Cross means that we have the grace to be wrong and to change without fear of condemnation. And we have the freedom to admonish brothers and sisters without judging their ultimate worth or salvation. We can admonish and be admonished because we are already forgiven through Christ’s blood.

In light of this grace, I will admit that at times I have focused too intently at the flaws in the Church or one side of the political spectrum. And it is my intention to offer more positive examples of believers who are faithful to their heavenly citizenship and more balance to my criticisms. However, my passion and concern will always be for the edification of the communities that I most identify with: conservative, evangelical, reformed, republican, homeschoolers [who raise goats, preferably]; so, please bear with me as I continue to be sharpened and corrected in my attempts to sharpen and correct those that I love.

Activision released an insightful multi-part mini-documentary probing the issues the forthcoming game addresses. Here’s the video series, bundled into one:

I stumbled upon this video series by reading Paolo Pederchini’s guest editorial for Kokatu, entitled “The Trouble with Call of Duty‘s Scary New War of the Future.” It’s well worth reading, but I’ll excerpt a few of the highlights.

One of the central ideas in Pederchini’s article is that Call of Duty‘s latest game draws attention to the “twofold process transforming the way we perceive war,” achieved through the pairing of cyberterrorism and covert operations:

“On one hand we have a normalization of images of war: in media, in electronic entertainment, even in viral videos showing robotic Big Dogs or other DARPA-funded marvels. On the other hand, we have a massive deployment of ‘strategies of separation’ such as unmanned aerial vehicles or undercover operations that work together to make the material reality of war as distant as possible from our daily lives. Black Ops II will probably end up contributing to both sides of this equation by trivializing war and celebrating the culture of secrecy at the same time.”

The consequences of these “strategies of separation” are stark:

“The most paradoxical aspect of black operations is that they are mostly invisible to the public opinion here in the West, but not in the countries where these operations take place. . . .

“In the West, we live with constant cognitive dissonance because these practices clearly conflict with our supposed moral high ground and the official mission of “exporting democracy”. We deal with it by quickly forgetting troubling events, by buying into sanitized stories such as the ones presented by video games, or by crafting elaborate echo chambers where the only news stories we are exposed to are ones that relate with our hobbies and interests.”

Finally, here’s Pederchini’s final assessment of the forthcoming Call of Duty game:

“It’s entirely possible that Black Ops II may end up telling a fascinating story, the story of a country that achieved such a complete military supremacy that the only thing it fears is its own arsenal. It could also attempt new forms of gameplay to describe the complexities of asymmetrical warfare and the vaporous world of cyberterrorism, but I suspect we’ll end up with a refinement of the same shooter, this time with robotic enemies as targets.”

With these things in mind, I want to turn to two prominent historical figures who had vested interests in technological advances in weaponry. The first is Alfred Nobel, to whom we are indebted for the annual Nobel Prizes (there are 5, not just the Peace Prize). The second is Albert Einstein.

While we have Nobel to thank for the Peace Prize, we also have him to thank for dynamite and crucial developments in automatic, rapid-fire weaponry. An idealist at heart, he had believed that through these developments, “war would kill itself.” His tactic backfired, and (before establishing his Prizes) he came to realize he would be remembered as little more than a wealthy “merchant of death.” He thought advances in weapons would restore man’s humanity, not accelerate its degeneracy.

The second figure I mentioned was Einstein. I have in mind a most astute sentence he uttered, which you may have heard before or even seen on a kitchen magnet or as a bumper sticker: “It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.” If you watched the video again, you will no doubt notice Oliver North essentially paraphrases him (abound 8:03 in the video): “You know, there’s gonna come a time when our technology catches up with us.” This is true–but what North does not note here is that it’s been true for at least a half-century; it’s just that Americans haven’t been the ones to bear the brunt of these consequences yet on American soil.

Novelist Margaret Atwood calls her futuristic novels “speculative fiction” rather than science fiction since she simply follows the possible fall-outs of scientific and technological developments. Call of Duty: Black Ops II seems set to essentially do the same with a militaristic focus. It raises an important question: Where will war go from here?

I’m no expert on war, but my answer is this: nowhere good.

Each Friday in The Televangelists, one of our writers examines the met and missed potential of television.

After finishing the first four seasons of Mad Men, I wrote that the nature of these characters’ madness is a slow suicide of the self. The singular pursuit of happiness qua self-indulgent, unrestrained freedom does not produce a lasting contentment, but instead produces the suicide of the essential self because the self is constituted, in large part, by loving commitments. These Ad Men want to find happiness in the superficial identities they sell to themselves as all-encompassing fulfillment; total self-defined self-creation is the business they’re in, and Dick Whitman (dressed up as “Don Draper”) is the quintessential example. Yet, a sense of dread hangs over Don through the first four seasons, whether he’s staring listlessly at an oncoming train, or having deluded visions of his father assessing his no-strings-attached existence as the cultivation of “bull—-.”  I’ve described Mad Men as a character-driven show about the death of character. After finishing the fourth season, I wondered if any of these mad men would find the judicious self-restraint that is characteristic of freedom and sanity.

At the start of the newest season, it feels like Don Draper has had a rebirth of sorts. The cheating womanizer is now happily married to his former secretary-turned-copywriter, Megan. But Megan isn’t just the new flavor of the week that makes Don momentarily pleased; it’s more significant than that. There’s a sense in which Don finds in Megan what he formerly found in his work. The drive for success in the advertisement agency was the sine qua non of Don’s existence. Now, it’s Megan who is the functional all-in-all of Don’s life. On the whole, Don seems to be in a better—more sane—place. In one episode, copywriter and aspiring “mad man” Peggy Olson says of Don in a bit of disbelief, “I don’t recognize that man. He’s kind and patient.” Then, in a loaded statement with layers of significance, Peggy says, “It concerns me.”

In a business that tends to be driven by deceit and ruthlessness, Don seems less interested in pitching a product ad to a potential client and more resigned to a posture that is beholden to Megan. He’s willing to ditch work to be with her, he’s willing to let her be his colleague, and, most recently, he’s willing to let her pursue what she wants—namely, an acting career. Megan insists on having her say, and Don obliges. He is scared of losing Megan, and, thus, equally afraid of relapsing into lasciviousness. He’s haunted by his former lifestyle, afraid he’ll lose the good thing he’s found. And, in a recent episode, when Megan is revolted by the way Don abandons her in a fit of anger, he recognizes that he’s in danger of losing her. A lasting image from early in this season is when he gets on his knees, almost begging Megan not to leave him.

However, the most haunting image of the season for me is when Don—having just watched Megan leave “Sterling Draper Cooper Pryce” for good—opens an elevator door to see not a car, but an enigmatic void before him. Don has always been on the edge, but it’s an open question at this point in the season as to whether his visions of the abyss are a haunting reminder of his past, a vision of what is to come, or perhaps both. Is it Don’s inescapable past, ever threatening to overwhelm him again? Or perhaps Megan has the potential to be to Don what Don was to his first wife, Betty? If Megan is “Lady Lazarus“—the Sylvia Plath-inspired title of the most recent episode—then does her renaissance “out of the ash” infer that she will “eat men like air”?

In terms of observing Don’s colleagues tending to envy Don’s life as the pinnacle of happiness, I’ve always been most interested in Peter Campbell and Peggy Olson—two fascinating characters that have been inextricably connected since their initial ambition-laden tryst. If Don is in a different place in the beginning of this season, then Pete is undoubtedly his successor. Ever craving the admiration and power that he perceives Don to receive and maintain, Pete’s dissatisfaction is like the constant drip of a faucet. This season, however, the irony is that it’s a leak that Don is capable of quickly fixing (so to speak). Don is even an inadvertent presence of conviction when Pete is out gallivanting with women in spite of his enviable family situation. Pete’s recognition of the abyss is apparent when he confesses tearfully to Don that he “has nothing.” In a sense, he already has more than enough for contentment, but Pete’s endless pursuit of what left Don feeling empty can only leave him feeling empty-handed too.

While Pete’s reckless jump into the void is both ongoing and imminent, Peggy is much more conflicted about her descent into madness. She is dumbfounded when Megan decides to quit her job at the agency, but also seemingly stung by the realization that attaining “Heinz Beans” may not be the personal and professional mountaintop that she perceives it to be. The heart of Peggy’s conflict is perhaps most transparent when she asks if she’s too much like a man; in a sense, she’s effectively wondering if she’s becoming who Don used to be. Peggy increasingly struggles with the fact that pursuing the mad man’s lifestyle  that she so desires may just transform her into that which she despises. One minute she is “servicing” a random stranger at the movie theatre, and the next minute she seems hopeful at the prospect of marital engagement. What freedom must she attain as a woman in order to achieve the status of respectability she so desires without self-destructing?

Will Don and Megan remain committed to one another, or is Megan going to swallow him up the way Don has so many women? Will Peggy find a perspective balance between her work ambition and starting a family? Will Pete find some semblance of contentment and appreciation for all that he has? For better or worse, the abyss of madness seems to be coming into clearer focus for these characters. The sense of impending doom is palpable. But if their choices are to redirect them away from madness, then their desires must change. It remains to be seen whether they want to be well, or whether they’ll continue to employ futile devices.

According to the initial Washington Post report, Romney’s spokeswoman, Andrea Saul, issued a statement attempting damage control, saying that

“anyone who knows Mitt Romney knows that he doesn’t have a mean-spirited bone in his body. The stories of fifty years ago seem exaggerated and off base and Governor Romney has no memory of participating in these incidents.”

Romney went on Fox News‘ “Kilmeade and Friends” radio show yesterday to supplement Saul’s face-saving efforts on his behalf. Instead, he dug himself into a hole even further with equivocal, half-hearted apologies. Two “apology” statements are particularly disconcerting.

1. “I participated in a lot of hijinks and pranks during high school and some may have gone too far. And for that I apologize.” – The phrase “may have” complicates this apology.  You would think it is the person pranked who should determine when a prank has gone too far. Even if not, though, one would hope Romney had sense enough in his youth to know when he pushed pranks beyond acceptable boundaries. To call what Romney reportedly did “vicious” does seem a bit exaggerated, but it no doubt crossed the line of acceptable pranks. Romney would have been far more responsible had he said instead that “some pranks went too far,” and apologize from there.

2. “If there was anything I said that was offensive to someone, I certainly am sorry about that.” Again, another conditional–”if” in this case–impedes Romney’s apology. But there clearly is no “if” in this situation. If Romney hadn’t offended someone, there would be no story. Obviously there is a serious offense here, so Romney surely needs to apologize to those whom he harmed.

That Romney failed to make a direct, unequivocal apology is cause for serious concern. Columnist Richard Cohen also chastises Romney for his lackadaisical apology:

“Romney admitted nothing, confessed to nothing — except youth. He occasionally ‘might have gone too far’ with certain unspecified pranks. Nothing more. Nonetheless, there is something about Romney that brings to mind the towel-snapper. This incident, as old as it is, only reinforces the image. That’s why it required a formulaic response: confession of amnesia and a pre-wrapped apology. He’s sorry.

“He sure is.”

Let’s hope Romney is convinced to give up this defenseless tactic and make a serious formal apology. I don’t think it’s an overstatement to say that his character is at stake.

Norman-Walker adds that “No convincing was necessary. Creativity is something that we welcome and Holy Ground is the ideal platform for this sort of thing. People were rather shocked several hundred years ago when churches introduced the organ, so who knows if gaming could become part of everyday worship one day!”

Worshippers will see Flower played during the service, controlled by Robertson, who will then pass a controller around so each churchgoer gets a turn to swoop through the leaves and branches of the game’s first level. Norman-Walker also said that Robertson will be back in August to talk further about integrating games into future services.

I find myself torn over things like this. I’m excited whenever anyone takes seriously the artistic nature of certain games, especially when they are appreciated in unlikely places. Then again, even as an editor for a web site about popular culture, I view the corporate worship service as an event distinctly set apart from our daily life. While playing games on my own or with friends is often an act of personal worship, in the corporate worship sphere I prefer a more historically based focus on those acts which bring the congregation together more purposefully: group prayer, singing, proclamation of scripture. Those are things that are spelled out for us in scripture – my concern is that adding elements of popular culture into this setting only muddles the corporate nature of the service.

This week has been the best of weeks and the worst of weeks for America and its drone warfare. It counts among its successes the killing of two suspected Al-Qaeda operatives, one of whom was a high-profile operative. However, the American military also accepted responsibility for a botched attack resulting in the death of six civilians.

Salon’s Glenn Greenwald raises three important points in his reflections upon the death of civilians this week. He first says the ongoing death of civilians, euphemistically named collateral damage, damages “the moral character of a country.” He then calls attention to the obsessive attention paid to the failed underwear-bomb plot in contrast to the civilian deaths. Building on this second point, he concludes by briefly pointing out that the media’s lopsided coverage reinforces the “Good Guys v. Bad Guys” perception of the war, where the Good Guys are victims turned victors. His point is that those deemed as “Bad Guys” can also be, and oftentimes are, victims.

Alongside these concerns is the frequently-voiced fear that drone warfare turns war into little more than a video game for those with the technology needed to wage such a war. In a report to the UN Human Rights Council in 2010, the author expressed fear that “there is a risk of developing a ‘Playstation’ mentality to killing.”

While killing is the “name of the game” in many war games, there is no turning back the clock in real-time war. Once killed, real civilians do not magically reappear or resurrect when you restart the game. (This assumes, though, that war games actually include civilians; in “Civilians in War Games,” Drew Dixon called attention to a recent trend to exclude civilians from war games so as to “sanitize” the impulse of immature gamers to kill civilians for kicks and giggles.) The danger in the war-game mentality is that it drastically undervalues human life.

Civilians should be viewed as “the least of these” (Matthew 25.34-46), not as setbacks to accomplishing a mission. They are vulnerable and oftentimes have pressing needs which must be met. If the point of a war is to spread democracy yet civilians are thought of as nobodies (people who exist but whose lives mean almost nothing to us), there is a serious contradiction in the American gaming attitude toward war.

The treatment of civilians as nobodies is, I think, what primarily leads to the moral decadence against which Greenwald warns. To safeguard against this decadence, the call to develop and reveal “the full legal basis for targeted killings, including its interpretation of the legal issues” is desperately needed at the national and international levels. Firm consequences must be established for the death of civilians in addition to that legal basis for drone strikes (if it can even be reasonably called legal). The most obvious consequence needed is the trial of those who order strikes based on faulty information, resulting in civilian deaths.

At the personal level, Christians should reconsider how they think of civilians in war-torn countries like Afghanistan. If they are deeply saddened by the deaths of American soldiers but pay little attention to or care little about civilian deaths, this is a strong indication that their conception of “the least of these” is too narrow and restricted. We should not forget that our neighbors include those suffering as America continues its strikes against those suspected of plotting terrorism.

“Calling attention to potential racial injustices and acknowledging our differences does not feed the racial fire, but dismissing and condemning such calls as ‘shameful’ and ‘exploitative’ does. If anyone’s comments were ‘shameful,’ they were Dr. Land’s. And as a Christian, a leader in the SBC, and especially as the President of the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, Dr. Land should apologize for his presumptuous conclusions about the intentions of our president and his deceptive portrayal of black civic leaders.” —Citizenship Confusion: The SBC’s Richard Land and Charges of Politicizing Trayvon

I quite honestly did not expect Land to apologize, but after meeting with several SBC leaders earlier this month, Land has issued a fairly extensive apology:

“First, I want to confess my insensitivity to the Trayvon Martin family for my imbalanced characterization of their son which was based on news reports, not personal knowledge. My heart truly goes out to a family whose lives have been turned upside down by the shocking death of a beloved child. I can only imagine their sense of loss and deeply regret any way in which my language may have contributed to their pain.

“Second, I am here to confess that I impugned the motives of President Obama and the reverends Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton. It was unchristian and unwise for me to have done so. God alone is the searcher of men’s hearts. I cannot know what motivated them in their comments in this case. I have sent personal letters of apology to each of them asking for them to forgive me. I continue to pray for them regularly, and for our president daily.

“Third, I do not believe that crime statistics should in any way justify viewing a person of another race as a threat. I own my earlier words about statistics; and I regret that they may suggest that racial profiling is justifiable. I have been an outspoken opponent of profiling and was grief-stricken to learn that comments I had made were taken as a defense of what I believe is both unchristian and unconstitutional. I share the dream of the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., that all men, women, boys, and girls would be judged by the content of their character and not by the color of their skin. Racial profiling is a heinous injustice. I should have been more careful in my choice of words.

“Fourth, I must clarify another poor choice of words. I most assuredly do not believe American racism is a ‘myth’ in the sense that it is imaginary or fictitious. It is all too real and all too insidious. My reference to myth in this case was to a story used to push a political agenda. Because I believe racism is such a grievous sin, I stand firmly against its politicization. Racial justice is a non-partisan ideal and should be embraced by both sides of the political aisle.

It’s a wonderful thing to see a Christian confess a sin and seek to change, particularly Christians in such public positions where such apologies are often few and far between.

Chicago commuters had ringside seats to the latest bout in the fight over global warming. In one corner, it was the global warming opponents (represented by The Heartland Institute). In the other, the global warming advocates. And Heartland’s recent, very public punch, was delivered via this Chicago billboard:

Wow. That’s harsh.

On its Web site, Heartland has compared global warming advocates to “Charles Manson, a mass murderer; Fidel Castro, a tyrant; and Ted Kaczynski, the Unabomber.” The billboard simply made it known to the wider audience.

The billboard idea was part of an “experiment” by The Heartland Institute, which is a nonprofit group that seeks “to discover, develop, and promote free-market solutions to social and economic problems.” According to Heartland’s president, Joseph Bast:

“This billboard was deliberately provocative, an attempt to turn the tables on the climate alarmists by using their own tactics but with the opposite message. We found it interesting that the ad seemed to evoke reactions more passionate than when leading alarmists compare climate realists to Nazis or declare they are imposing on our children a mass death sentence.”

Looks like schoolyard name calling to me.

Heartland defends its billboard attack, claiming, “We’ve been subjected to the most uncivil name-calling and disparagement you can possibly imagine from climate alarmists.” I’m sure they have been.

But the first one to throw a mainstream punch is at great risk for turning public sympathy toward the opponent. Without the backstory, Heartland just looks like an unprovoked bully. And few people want to side with a bully, making this a real Ad Fail.

In addition, Heartland admits that the “billboard angered and disappointed many of Heartland’s friends and supporters, but we hope they understand what we were trying to do with this experiment.”

Attack ads continue to be used — especially in political campaigns — precisely because they are shown to work at a deep, subconscious level even when viewers say they oppose the use of such tactics.

In an article by Drew Westen in the Los Angeles Times explains why such ads work, especially in political campaigns:

“Our conscious reactions reflect our conscious values. In the case of campaigns, for most people, those values include a belief that people should run on their merits and stop tearing each other down. But unconsciously, our brains are highly reactive to threat — especially when, as in the case of an ad, the threat isn’t immediately countered or refuted. A well-crafted positive ad can ‘stick’ too, but there’s nothing like a sinister portrayal of a greedy, self-centered villain, replete with grainy images and menacing music, to stir up our unconscious minds.”

So attack messaging works. But does that justify its use? If people agree with your message subconsciously but consciously think you are petty, how is that helpful? Both people and organizations have to determine what sort of character they want to be known for. It’s in scuffles like these that our character is exposed, revealing either wisdom-and-love or malice-and-hate. When it comes to character — especially for the believer — the means we use will justify the ends we achieve.

On May 4, 2012, Adam Yauch died after battling cancer for three years. He was 47 years old. Yauch, better known by his stage name ”MCA,” was a founding member of the Beastie Boys along with Michael “Mike D” Diamond and Adam “Ad-Rock” Horovitz, and his death represents the end of an era in hip-hop and popular music.

Originally starting out in 1979 as a punk/hardcore band, the Beastie Boys would eventually migrate over to hip-hop in the early ’80s and released Licensed to Ill in 1986, which boasted the early MTV staples and party anthems ”(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (To Party)” and ”No Sleep till Brooklyn.” That early material was certainly crass and juvenile, and the Beastie Boys’ music has always been marked by a certain measure of swagger and braggadocio. However, by the time the group began recording their second album, 1989′s Paul’s Boutique, they had begun to grow up — musically speaking, at least.

Paul’s Boutique has often been heralded as a hip-hop classic, and rightfully so. Not wanting to become “one-hit wonders,” the Boys worked with The Dust Brothers to concoct a densely layered album built on top of countless inventive and humorous samples. One minute, you’re listening to a song whose beats were derived from the sounds of table tennis or a sliding straw, the next, some wildly divergent sonic rabbit trail.

From that point on, the Boys built a hip-hop legacy that few have rivaled. Constantly reinventing themselves sonically — one of my favorite Beastie Boys albums is The In Sound from Way Out!, a collection of psychedelic/funk instrumentals far removed from their hip-hop productions — they did so with tongues planted firmly in cheek. Indeed, much of the fun of listening to their albums was in trying to decipher all of the humorous, cheeky, and kitschy lines and references that they constantly — and oh so skillfully — dropped. They were just as likely to reference Japanese baseball great Sadaharu Oh or Hong Kong director John Woo as they were comic artist Vaughn Bode, classic Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns, and Mr. Spock.

In addition to their inventive music, the Beastie Boys were also responsible for some of the best music videos of all time. Indeed, it was impossible during 1994–95 to turn on MTV and not see the video for “Sabotage” at least 4–5 times a day, and yet it never lost a single iota of awesomeness. And let’s not forget videos for ”Hey Ladies,” “So What’cha Want,” “Sure Shot,” and “Intergalactic” (to name a few). Several of these videos were directed by Yauch under his Nathaniel Hornblower alias, and further delved into the band’s love for kitschy and cult pop culture. (“Body Movin’” was heavily inspired by the classic spy film Danger: Diabolik and ”Intergalactic” was an extended riff on Japanase “kaiju” films.)

(Yauch would further support his cinematic endeavors by starting Oscilloscope Laboratories, an independent film company responsible for such acclaimed films as Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son about His Father, Wendy and Lucy, Meek’s Cutoff, and Exit Through the Gift Shop.)

Yauch, a Buddhist, was also heavily involved in the Tibetan independence movement and helped organize a number of benefit concerts, including the “Tibetan Freedom Concert” series, to bring attention to the cause. And for all of their hip-hop swagger, the group could also be pretty progressive, whether calling out racism in “Egg Man” or Yauch directly decrying the misogyny so prevalent in rap and hip-hop in “Sure Shot.”

Ultimately, I think that’s what I appreciate most about the Beasties: they were always about having lots of fun — dropping crazy rhymes that often felt more like inside jokes than anything else — and they could be incredibly childish, but they could also surprise you with sudden displays of maturity and adventurousness, be it musical, aesthetic, or social. And then they’d go right back to name-dropping Rod Carew and shouting out disco calls without breaking a sweat or losing a beat.

Related:

• “MCA offered a relatable blueprint for growing up, in both his art and his life.”
• Adam Yauch: Entertainment Industry Mourns Death of Beastie Boys’ MCA
• In Memoriam: Adam Yauch (1964-2012)

Beastie Boys photo by Terry Richardson.

If you’re not familiar with some of the critical reviews that have appeared in response to Joss Whedon’s box office triumph, The Avengers, then you might assume — based on the blockbuster-nature of its success and the aggregate work of Rotten Tomatoes – that it’s an unqualified Hulk-smash hit. That’s not quite the case, though. The Avengers has become the starting point for an interesting conversation centered on genre-fatigue, inherent genre limitations, the nature of entertainment, and the battle between the critic and the fanboy. It’s a perfect discussion point to consider in relation to Christ and Pop Culture’s underlying philosophy that we engage popular culture without adopting a pop-culture sensibility.

The above-referenced discussion may have been especially ignited when film critic AO Scott posted a not-so-favorable review in The New York Times, and Samuel Jackson responded by bringing the fury on Twitter, suggesting that Scott should be fired for being an incapable film critic. Jackson, who at this point can’t possibly care too much about what critics think, essentially tweeted the signal for the fanboys to assemble.

I have some confessions to make, dear reader.

First, AO Scott is right on the whole when he refers to The Avengers as “grinding, hectic emptiness” that serves up a “conveniently vague set of principles.” And Jackson’s response to Scott — whose review, while certainly negative, did contain bits of praise — was foolish. Furthermore, I appreciate the first half of Jeffrey Overstreet’s balanced appreciation of the film over at Filmwell, where he invokes the food-culture analogy and likens The Avengers to an enjoyable “super sundae” that, if not served and eaten in proper proportions, could induce “an ice cream headache.” And Anthony Lane, too, makes a worthwhile point in The New Yorker when he comments:

One of the failings of Marvel — as of other franchises, like the “Superman” series — is the vulgarity that comes of thinking big. As a rule, be wary of any guy who dwells upon the fate of mankind, unless he can prove that he was born in Bethlehem. Superheroes who claim to be on the side of the entire planet are no more to be trusted than the baddies who seek to trash it, nor is the aesthetic timbre of the movies in which they both appear. . . . All movies thrive on the rustle of private detail — on pleasures and pains that last as long as a smoke — and there has been nothing more peculiar, in recent years, than watching one Marvel epic after the next, then sifting through the rubble of gigantism in search of dramatic life.

And even Armond White – that critic who has earned renown for against-the-grain overstatement (and his review of Avengers is no exception to that rule) — has a point when he says that to discuss Whedon’s film as a “story” or even a “thrill ride” is “delusional.” What he means by lumping these two together is that the film has “no dramatic build,” but is instead one long climactic free-fall. From this perspective, I can even understand White’s favoring under-appreciated Chronicle to Avengers.

I have one more confession to make: although I affirm what those critics said, I still enjoyed The Avengers immensely. I laughed and applauded uproariously with the midnight fanboys, and probably enjoyed the experience all the more for taking part in it with them. If you were to ask my Marvel-loving, movie-going (and quite intelligent) buddies what my initial reaction was after the film, they would tell you my first words were: “Whedon delivered.”

I have not wavered from that initial declaration, and I was not oblivious to the shortcomings referenced above. In fact, if what I did most during the film was laugh with glee, then what I did almost as much was think to myself, “yeah, whatever, gamma rays, portals, nuclear missiles and stuff.” (Think about that for a minute: inspired indifference about, you know, weapons of mass destruction.) The film’s story is positively weightless, well-worn, and at times laughable, but there’s no doubt that Whedon knows this, and rather than play the game straight-faced, he seems to take the route of ratcheting up the self-aware laughs, something that shouldn’t surprise. This represents what makes Whedon’s film work so well: the wit, banter, and punchlines somehow manage to overwhelm the film’s best Transformers impersonations (and the action is certainly big, so this is no small feat).

So I take issue with the insinuation, which is absent in Overstreet’s review but fairly explicit in White’s, that one can’t enjoy The Avengers for what it is — and, by implication, be aware of “what it is” and isn’t — and still have good reasons for thinking its form of entertainment represents a worthwhile outing to the cineplex. So let me provide a few reasons why The Avengers was a blast.

First, as I mentioned above, Whedon’s overall tonal approach indicates that he understands well the inherent limitations of what he’s serving up. While he provides an abundance of fanboy moments, he also consistently undermines the problematic tension present in being entertained by that which lacks significance. Two examples come to mind:

1. You could make the argument that Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.) is the most beloved character of the bunch. He is a self-absorbed, ingenious, playboy billionaire — the quintessential self-made man. And while none of these heroes are supposed to be flawless (except maybe Captain America), the line is blurry at best as to whether Stark is admired for these traits or if they function as his weakness. Thus, it was a great line near the end of the film when Stark realizes for himself that, in his self-absorption, he’s not all that different from the film’s borderline-caricature enemy, Loki (Thor’s adoptive brother played with effective bombastic delusion by Tom Hiddleston).
2. The film acknowledges its own gleeful (isn’t-that-cool!) destruction of New York City when, just before the closing credits, a montage of citizen reactions includes an invitation for the triumphant heroes to come help clean up and put the city back together. (Not to mention, in the background of the shawarma chow-down, there’s some serious clean-up going on that may add a bit of self-mockery to the humorous post-credit scene.) Moments like these — in addition to Whedon’s uncanny sense for punchline moments — are what I will most remember about The Avengers.

And, in addition to fine performances from Mark Ruffalo (my favorite portrayal of The Hulk, who has some of the best moments of the film) and the tag-team of Scarlett Johansson and Jeremy Renner (there’s some interesting chemistry between Black Widow and Hawkeye), one other element from the film made it reasonably enjoyable. I came to the film interested in the relationship between Iron Man and Captain America, who were sure to clash from an ideological perspective. And what struck me was that that ideological conflict ends with the self-absorbed Iron Man making a Captain America-esque move in which he lays down his life for others. I was pleased when it was brought to my attention that Whedon, referencing Stark’s reluctance to be a self-sacrificial soldier, had this in mind:

It was very important for me to build that concept and have Tony (Downey) reject that concept on every level, so that when he ultimately is willing to lay himself down on the line, you get where’s he’s come from, and how Steve (Evans) has affected him.

It’s a nice move that unfortunately doesn’t carry the weight that it ought to. Yet, given that it’s resultant from tension between two heroes (rather than a “good guy” and a “bad guy”), it’s a stand-out moment for me as far as the genre is concerned.

So, to some degree, I understand some of the criticisms and qualified praise that has been given to Avengers. It’s the main reason why, as far as the genre is concerned, I prefer Nolan’s Dark Knight franchise. (Though also limited to some extent, it certainly has aims that can be taken seriously, perhaps partly because Nolan’s vision crosses over into Heat-influenced crime drama territory.) Furthermore, given these criticisms, it’s understandable why some critics would be a bit wearied by Disney’s insistence on sequeling Marvel until the end of time. Keep in mind that when Iron Man 3, Hawkeye, Nick Fury, and Thor 2 drop in the coming years, we’re less and less likely to have more original visions like Inception green-lit by studios.

But, even more than warning against big-budget genre fatigue, I want to encourage my readers to not only enjoy The Avengers shamelessly, but to complement your ice cream intake with more challenging fare, i.e., films that require you to engage yourself with truly worthwhile narratives and ideas. Our pop-cultural landscape has flattened out in our over-reached democratic milieu: to distinguish between the Dardennes and Bay, or between Kiarostami and Ratner is, I suspect, a matter of “elitist” preference for many people. But part of our concern for discernment at Christ and Pop Culture is to recover a sense of the ethical and aesthetic horizon. It’s why one week I’ll review the Duplass Brothers, and the next week The Hunger Games, or why last week The Kid with a Bike and this week The Avengers. This approach is also reflected in our writers’ selections for 2011 favorites.

So while I’m excited for The Amazing Spider-Man and especially excited for The Dark Knight Rises, I’m even more excited for Paul Thomas Anderson’s first film since There Will Be Blood; for new films from Abbas Kiarostami, Andrew Dominik, and John Hillcoat; and for ambitious upcoming films from Alfonso Cuaron and Baz Luhrmann. I hope you’ll join me in anticipating these, too.

But I’ll also be at the midnight showing for The Avengers 2, eager to enjoy it for what it is.

Metropolitan is a funny movie (you can watch it on Netflix) that gets most of its laughs from irony. Only occasionally are the characters in on the joke. But more than the film’s source for comedy, irony is at the heart of everything the film does. For example:

1. The characters of Metropolitan would never go see the movie Metropolitan. When they talk about art, they talk about literature. The cue cards tell us the film takes place “Not So Long Ago” but none of these people talk Bergman or Fellini, much less Steven Spielberg or George Lucas. It’s Jane Austen and Leo Tolstoy or nothing.
2. The movie critiques criticism, anticipating and undercutting its own analysis. The film’s hero, a naïve college socialist named Tom Townsend, makes a big deal of the fact that he doesn’t read novels. Instead, he reads literary criticism so he can get the novel’s ideas and the critic’s ideas about those ideas in one fell swoop. Director/writer Whit Stillman shows us that this is a shallow way to approach art, which must be experienced directly. That’s all well and good, but where does that leave someone who wants to write criticism about the film itself, especially since the film is basically about ideas?

The plot, then… A group of well-to-do freshmen come home to New York City for their winter break. The film charts the group’s dynamics over a four-week period. In need of another male escort for the debutante ball season, the group adds Townsend, a less financially well-to-do but more intellectually haughty freshman who subscribes to the teachings of Charles Fourier. Audrey, the group’s smartest and most sensitive young woman, falls for Tom. Charlie, the group’s most philosophical and introspective young man, falls for Audrey. Tom falls for a pretty but amorously mendacious yuppie before he realizes he likes Audrey. Though he’s outside this love triangle, Nick Young is the group’s unofficial ringleader, a brat-packish Oscar Wilde who supplies the movie with its most memorable lines and its most deeply conflicted and hypocritical character.

Below, I offer some things to look for and think about. We can talk about it in the comments section.

1. The title. The word “metropolitan” has two meanings. As an adjective, it means “of, or relating to, a metropolis,” in this film’s case the nation’s metropolis par excellence, New York City. As a noun, however, the word refers to an archbishop. The former is secular and descriptive, the latter religious and about identity. The film’s juxtaposition of financial abundance and spiritual penury is right there in its title.
2. The music. The film opens with the melody line of “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” As the credits roll, the score quickly segues from that most archetypal of Protestant hymns to a nondescript cha-cha track. That juxtaposition — an intensely serious hymn with a formulaic, if well-executed, 20^th century dance number — captures the film’s twin themes of individual spiritual alienation and paint-by-numbers social interactions.
3. Mirrors. The film is filled with mirrors, both literal and figurative. The film’s first scene shows Audrey examining herself in a lavish bedroom mirror after her brother makes a never-revealed comment about her body. Though actual mirrors keep showing up throughout the film, we gradually start seeing a series of two-shots that show us characters using each other as mirrors in which to examine their own imperfections.
4. Interiors vs. Exteriors. The film opens deep in the bowels of a wealthy New York apartment. The film closes with its three protagonists walking down the New Jersey highway. The conversations that take place indoors are always interesting but often emotionally stifling. When characters are walking home in the brisk New York winter or shuffling between fancy parties, they are more likely to put their private emotions in social context. They are able to see more than just other versions of themselves.
5. The criticism. Both liberals and conservatives love this movie (read this Slate piece on why conservatives, in particular, like the film). The film is conflicted, but it’s not aesthetically compromising. The film is a mirror, reflecting its viewer’s own biases and preconceptions back to them. And it’s quotable.

“The problem is massive. But it feels distant. Resistance seems almost futile. It’s easy to slide from the reality of ‘I cannot change this’ to the attitude of ‘I can do nothing.’ . . . Our small gifts can make a big difference, honoring our moms and serving future moms on the other side of the world.”

The Thanks, Mom! team includes Christ and Pop Culture, Lindsee Eddy from Living Proof Ministries, Tindell Stanfill Baldwin and Plywood People, Justin Taylor and The Gospel Coalition, Jennifer Roth, and Amanda Moore Jones from Living Proof Ministries.*

Check out all the coverage and consider partnering with As Our Own this Mother’s Day to honor the moms in your life.

*links updated 5/11/12