Tag Archives: Lutheran

A Fistful of Movies

With the Oscars recently behind us, I continue to think about some of my favorite movies. Perhaps I find myself a bit like Binx Bolling, the main character of Walker Percy’s wonderful novel, The Moviegoer. Binx was trying to make sense of his changing world within an often conflicted and troubled personal life. With his past wounds, he found it difficult to connect to real people and real situations. As he tries engaging the real world, he finds books and movies more stirring and real than his own life. As he embarks on his vague search for meaning, he often gets lost. The lines between books, movies and reality become blurred, but real life keeps butting in. He is constantly forced to redefine who he is and his place in the world.

Unlike Binx, I don’t think I get lost in movies, but they certainly do help impact who I am and will be. I often discover a clearer and more hopeful vision of reality because of the better books and movies I encounter. I might come to understand myself and society better. I can even meet God. We all need to seek meaning in our lives at times, for life is hard and answers are not always black and white. Believe it or not, movies can help root us to a more sacred reality; one filled with possibilities. What makes a great film isn’t necessarily the awards received, the box office gross receipts, or other marks of popularity. A great film will challenge our biases and help build us up morally, ethically or even theologically while it entertains. Even when no clear answers are possible, our wrestling with issues raised by great films can encourage us as seekers and help guide us on our way. In my opinion, a truly great film has the power to touch our hearts, enrich our lives, and help transform our interaction with others and our world. Such films don’t separate us from the world as they tended to do with Binx. Instead, I argue a great film can help root us into a deeper, more sacred story; one which touches us all. Whether a secular film or explicitly religious, science fiction or biographical, such films can inspire us to seek out and cooperate with the breaking in of the kingdom of heaven into our ordinary world.

Thinking about such things, I decided to share a fistful of movies; five of my favorites. I am sharing older and perhaps less well know movies from a very long list. They might be hard to find, but they are available in the United States. The list isn’t in any order other than alphabetical, nor do I suggest they are the greatest of the great or perfect in any way. These movies only serve to exemplify my belief that movies can enrich one’s material and spiritual life. They have done so in mine. If you see them, I hope they enrich your life too.

1. Cold Fever (Á köldum klaka), 1995: This Icelandic movie follows a modern Japanese business man as he travels to Iceland to honor his deceased parents. His grandfather has asked him to forgo his Hawaiian vacation in order to perform a religious ritual at the site of his parent’s death. Unfortunately, the site is a remote spot within the Icelandic interior and the trip during winter. Along the way, he certainly experiences many misadventures within this curious foreign culture and harsh landscape, but he also finds himself; reconnecting with his parents, culture, and his faith along the way. Throughout, one encounters our modern struggle to find meaning, build and maintain relationships, and believe in something greater than oneself. It is a quirky but wonderful movie with incredibly haunting landscapes and a subtle but poignant spirituality. (Icelandic and Japanese with English subtitles, along with English sections.)

2. I accuse! (J’accuse!), 1939: Jean Diaz is a scientist who has witnessed unspeakable horrors during World War I. Haunted by the memories of his dead compatriots, Diaz becomes obsessed with using his talents to end war. He develops an invention that could do just that, but with war clouds forming, the government usurps his invention for its war machine. Made as World War II was about to begin, this sci-fi movie seems somewhat prophetic. As political leader defends the move towards war and the need for military buildup, Diaz makes a passionate plea that accuses those who have forgotten the dead and not learned from history. Rather than needing defensive tools and patriotism, Diaz shouts that what the world really needs is a heart. Although the special affects and script might seem dated in places, this movie continues to challenge us who live in a real world facing real threats. (English subtitles.)

3. The Mission, 1986: In the 1750 Treaty of Madrid, Spain ceded part of Jesuit Paraguay to Portugal. As a result, the indigenous mission communities of Guarani and Jesuits were oppressed and disbanded. Rather than be disposed of their land and enslaved, the Guarani War began. It is within this context that we encounter a group of missionaries headed by Father Gabriel. He loved and respected the Guarani, and the Guarani them. Together, they created the mission community of São Miguel das Missões. Soon after in a nearby city, a slaver, Rodrigo Mendoza, kills his brother in a fit of jealous rage. Unable to forgive himself, he is helped by Father Gabriel to truly discover what it means to be loved and to love. In the process, he powerfully experiences the forgiveness of his former enemies, the Guarani, and it helps transform his life. As the Treaty of Madrid goes into affect, the Jesuits wrestle with how to respond to protect the people they love. Father Gabriel along with some other Jesuits desires a peaceful resistance. Mendoza and still others take up arms to help defend the defenseless. As a former soldier and police officer, I am moved and challenged by this moral and ethical conflict. Who is right? At the end of the movie, I am not sure we will ever know. In a final exchange between a Catholic cardinal that approved of the transfer of lands and a Portuguese official, the official laments that what happened. He explains it and his responsibility away as “we must work in the world; the world is thus.” The cardinal powerfully replies with repentance and regret, “No, Senhor Hontar, thus have we made the world. Thus have I made it.” What more can each of us do to love our neighbors as ourselves in such a world? The music and scenery adds to the powerful affect of this film.

4. Pathfinder (Ofelas), 1987: Based upon an ancient Sami account, this Norwegian film proves an excellent adventure for young and old alike. An invading warlike people have killed Aigin’s family. He flees, is captured, and then agrees to lead them to another escaping clan if only they will let his village’s captured holy man live. They betray that promise, and now, Aigin is seemingly alone in trying to save his fellow Sami people. Through this trial, Aigin will discover his life’s sacred call and rediscover the value and purpose of community. I appreciate the indigenous faith shared along the way to include the Sami belief in the White Reindeer – reminiscent to me of the White Buffalo and faith of the Lakota, a people I deeply love and who have taught me much about holiness and community. (English subtitles.)

5. The Spitfire Grill, (1996): A young woman, Percy, is released from prison and moves to the small town of Gilead, Maine. The kind but gruff owner of the local café, The Spitfire Grill, gives the young woman a chance to restart her life despite disapproval and suspicions within the community. As the intricacies of the story unfold, lives are changed and renewed, especially as Percy is faced with making the ultimate sacrifice out of love for another. The film explores the themes of redemption, compassion, interdependence, and more. Funded by the Sacred Heart League, keep an eye out for their popular Sacred Heart statue on a dashboard (as in country music fame). Proceeds from the film helped construct a school run by the Congregation of the priests of the sacred Heart in Mississippi. Their cafeteria is named the Spitfire Grill. (I served with these priests and brothers at another one of their schools, St. Josephs Indian School in Chamberlain, SD.)

As I said, this list isn’t meant to be all inclusive. I also number Babette’s Feast (1987; set within a Danish Lutheran/pietist community, people rethink what it means to truly believe, live, and love in the world), A Bridge Too Far (1977; a movie meant to be about the futility of war, but it inspired me through the honor and courage displayed within an imperfect system and hellish war), Joyeux Noel (2005; about the informal peace on the World War I front lines on Christmas Eve 1914), Smoke Signals (1998; a modern reservation story about reconciliation and healing), of course Luther (2003; about Martin Luther and the Reformation), and many more among my list of great films. I encourage you to create your own list.

Whatever movies or books you choose, I hope you will try to seek out our God who – just as in life – is often hidden within. Through that search, may you also be gifted with a new vision; a clearer ethical, moral and theological vision for your life ahead. Such “moviegoing” just might help free us all from the struggles of our everyday life, while, unlike with Binx, empowering us to see beyond our limitations in order that we may embrace all of life more fully.

“What is the nature of the search? you ask. Really it is very simple; at least for a fellow like me. So simple that it is easily overlooked. The search is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of his own life.” – Binx Bolling

Note: If you would like help in viewing your movies through a theological lens, I suggest you visit http://theofilm.wordpress.com (The blog is written and supported by students, faculty and staff of Union Presbyterian Seminary, of which I am an alumnus, from both their Richmond and Charlotte campuses. Its resources are both helpful and free.)

© 2011 The Rev. Louis Florio. All contents not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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Waking from the dark

Recently, I had the good fortune of attending a momentous and joyous event. A past coworker and forever dear friend of mine was retiring from the City of Alexandria (VA) Police Department. I arrived in the city early, so I visited all the old haunts from my patrol days. The neighborhoods I used to patrol have really changed, but the memories linger. Faces, emotions, and more vividly came back to me as I drove – not all of them bringing joy: the place where I handled my first homicide; a telephone pole where two college students died tragically; a courtyard where a brave fellow officer was shot and killed. For a police officer, such memories reflect much of one’s life on the street. It is often frustrating, sad, and sometimes even briefly terrifying. Such memories tend to linger in your days and sometimes even during your nights.

As I arrived at the restaurant to honor my friend, I rejoiced at meeting several old comrades; many who I had not spoken with for sixteen years. The bonds of the life we shared were still strong, and it was like I had never left except for the many new (and younger) faces of police officers in the room. Soon, one younger man came up to me. I recognized the face, but I couldn’t quite place him. He was a captain now, but I had been his Field Training Officer for two weeks as he started his service just before I resigned to enter ministry. After some catching up, he pointed out that I might be back for a lot of retirements in the next few years, for all my contemporaries are at the age to retire. (Police work can prove hard on the body, soul and your family, so officers often retire at a younger age than other professions.) The bittersweet truth of what he said really hit home. My ties to this city and the brave men and women who served it would soon seem to be fully cut.

Along with a great lunch and fellowship, my friend entering retirement gave us some wonderful food for thought. As he sometimes tearfully shared about his many years with the force, the tears were of joy and thanksgiving. He didn’t focus on the bad times, even if he couldn’t forget them. He lifted up the relationships that had blessed him in his vocation, family, and life. We were officers together when violent crime was at its height in the twentieth century. It was an exciting time and a meaningful time. It brought us together in ways few people will ever understand. Together, love for one another had not only helped us survive but also thrive. Speaking to the younger officers, he shared the things that mattered most at the end of the day, especially going home safe to your family and friends. He lifted up those whose dedication to service had inspired him, and by honoring them, he hoped to inspire those who remained on the force after he left.

As I listened, I sensed the sacred at work in and through our shared life. As difficult as the past had been at times, I could see more and more clearly the light of Christ shining even among those many darker memories. Ours had always been a road of blessing, not curse. We were bonded to others of the past and the future through the service we shared. We are bonded to one another forever. The love of God at work, even when you don’t see it at first, has a way of unifying things and making them new. Although imperfectly at times, we had sought together to do our best out of love – acted justly, loved mercy, and walked humbly with our God – and it all mattered. The good and the bad times mattered. God had used them all. Now, the world and I will never be the same. Thanks be to God.

From Psalm 71 (NRSV translation):

16 I will come praising the mighty deeds of the Lord God,
I will praise your righteousness, yours alone.
17 O God, from my youth you have taught me,
and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds.
18 So even to old age and gray hairs,
O God, do not forsake me,
until I proclaim your might
to all the generations to come.
Your power 19and your righteousness, O God,
reach the high heavens.
You who have done great things,
O God, who is like you?


© 2011 The Rev. Louis Florio. All contents not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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An Historic Day

I love history. It doesn’t matter if it is church or secular history, about peacemakers or warriors, I always seem to learn something helpful for my modern life when I look back in time. Beyond the many books I read and the movies and television shows I watch (often to my wife’s chagrin), I even enjoy those quick notes found in the “This Day in History” articles of my local newspaper. So sometimes (just for fun), I will look toward history when a significant day in my life occurs. For example, I was born on December 10. On that day in 1520, Martin Luther burned the papal bull (edict) demanding he recant from his critique of the Roman Catholic Church or be excommunicated. This would have been a death sentence back in his day. On June 1, the first written record of Scotch whiskey appears in the Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, certainly a day of celebration. Ironically, it also serves as the anniversary of another wonderful celebration for me – the day I married my wife. (Cheers to that!) On October 28, 2007, the congregation of Messiah Lutheran Church voted to call me as pastor. It was Reformation Sunday. (The Reformation actually began on October 31, 1517 when Luther posted his 95 Theses, but our denomination tends to recognize the anniversary on the Sunday before that date when October 31 isn’t itself a Sunday.) Now to be clear, I don’t plan events based upon historic dates. I enjoy looking backward after the fact; just to see if I learn any fun tidbit or maybe even something helpful. So by now, you get the idea. I am a bit of a nerd when it comes to history. I confess it to you freely.

Consequently, you probably won’t be too surprised to learn that I looked toward history after opening this blog on January 14, 2011. (Hopefully, my decision to write a blog will not become a day to live on in infamy.) In our denomination, we have days where we commemorate special witnesses to God’s love at work in our midst. We recall the Christian lives and witness of fellow saints. These saints aren’t perfect, for no human ever was, is, or can be perfect. As Luther pointed out, we are at best sinner-saints, truly saved but in constant need of our Savior’s grace. I often find people listed who I hadn’t previously known; at least not well. This was such an occasion, for by looking at our liturgical calendar, I made the acquaintance of Eivind Josef Berggrav (1884-1959), deceased Primate of the Church of Norway. Examining the life of Bishop Berggrav, we find the classic case of the right person being at the right place at the right time. Although special in many ways by most accounts, he perhaps wouldn’t have been more than a footnote to history if he hadn’t been the presiding bishop in Norway at the time of the Nazi occupation.

Personally, I found Bishop Berggrav interesting on several levels. First, he was a man of courage; a courage that appears to stem from his simple trust in God. Despite the threat of execution, his imprisonment in isolation, and the darkness of the times surrounding him, he remained prophetic in word and deed. He did his best to do what he felt called to do by God. He strived to act in love rather than react out of fear. This admirable quality was nurtured by his interaction with and his understanding of the catholic church (read “universal church,” note the small “c”). Despite differences in theologies, Berggrav believed there was only one church, and we should all strive together to answer Christ’s call to be the reflection of his light in a dark world. Like Nobel winner Nathan Söderblom after World War I, Berggrav believed that doctrinal agreement wasn’t crucial for Christians to live out this shared call. From his prior work to unify the church, his ecumenical contacts became an inspiration and support for him during World War II. The Confessing Church in Germany served as a model for his own leadership and action when the Nazi supported government attempted to take over the Church of Norway. Messages of support and news of public prayer on his behalf at Canterbury and other places helped sustain him during his imprisonment. Even in Norway, this attitude of openness and acceptance helped draw religious minorities (such as independent pietistic Lutheran churches and Roman Catholics) closer together in opposition of the fascist regime. Despite the oppression and challenges he faced, he learned to trust that he was never alone.

According to D.M. Yeager, he apparently was blessed with a charism of grace. Humble in his own self-assessment as sinner-saint, Berggrav tried to find the good in others. This was partly shaped by his past prison ministry. While not being blind to the realities of who he dealt with, he saw in them ordinary, fallible people where the goodness of God was still at work. In relating with others, people recognized his knack to be a compassionate, empathetic, bridge builder. After first taking on the role of bishop, he wrote in a letter, “My first objectives is to find something good, partly because I know there is always some good everywhere, and partly because I have to feel kindly toward a group before I can speak any words of admonition to them.”[i] Yet, such relationships were not to be maintained if they enabled or encouraged evil. When it was clear that the occupation government was committing atrocities and would not be true to its promises, he took actions against it.

Despite the personal costs, Bishop Berggrav found he had a Christian duty to disobey. He began to lead the institution of the church in its peaceful resistance. The church would seek to become a protective barrier between the illegitimate government and the citizenry. On Easter Sunday 1942, all but 64 of the 861 pastors of the Church of Norway read at worship The Foundation of the Church, a document primarily prepared by Berggrav explicitly stating that “the requirements of religious faith now made it impossible for Christians to cooperate with many of the laws and policies of the civil authorities.”[ii] The pastors then resigned simultaneously from the state church. Congregants responded as well, sheltering the pastors and refusing to participate in the state church. Reminiscent of the two kingdoms theology of Luther, he recognized that both church and state had parts in God’s ultimate plan. So while he argued that the church’s opposition should be and must remain peaceful, he remained a realist. He believed that when a government began to perform as a murderer, citizens must act in the government’s stead to protect themselves and fulfill God’s call for justice. Thus, some may indeed be called to take up arms for that purpose. This armed opposition isn’t purely political, nor is it to be self-serving. Violence is only entered into for the purpose of restoring a proper, just government, protecting the defenseless, and for calling others to repentance. Reconciliation must remain the goal.

There is much, much more to be said about Eivind Josef Berggrav, more than I could ever say here. For those interested in learning more, I would commend to you D.M. Yeager’s article, God, Church, and Country: Berggrav’s Leadership in the Norwegian Resistance in the Journal of Lutheran Ethics (available through elca.org). As for me, I recognize a bit better how his life has somehow touched my own through the communion of saints. I will be challenged to live up to his legacy as I think of him. For certainly all of us will face opposition in this fallen, imperfect world. Recalling of Baggrav’s own response in troubled times, we might be encouraged to look for the good in our enemies and to seek reconciliation where possible. We might find the courage to apply our faith as best we can to the troubles of our day. In all things, maintaining a simple trust in the eternal providence of God, we might see past our own immediate fears or suffering to realize that we just might be the right people at the right time and right place, sent by God, for these troubled days that surround us. We could even find ourselves inspired enough in our daily lives to risk acting in love no matter the cost. With such grace active in our lives, the course of history will certainly change for the better. Each day will prove historic and a blessing.


[i] Yeager, D.M. God, Church, and Country: Berggrav’s Leadership in the Norwegian Resistance. Journal of Lutheran Ethics, Vol. 6, Issue 5 [on-line edition via elca.org]. May 2006.

[ii] Yeager (on-line, ¶42) As noted by the author, the figures are according to a work by Odd Godal. In some documents, the number of pastors reported as resigning varies slightly.

Bibliography

 

Anonymous. (n.d.) Eivind Berggrav. Wikipedia.org as downloaded on January 15, 2011.

Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Evangelical Lutheran Worship: Pew Edition. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress.

 

Yeager, D.M. God, Church, and Country: Berggrav’s Leadership in the Norwegian Resistance. Journal of Lutheran Ethics, Vol. 6, Issue 5 [on-line edition via elca.org]. May 2006.

© 2011 The Rev. Louis Florio. All text and images not held under copyright by Word Press or another entity may not be used without permission of the author.

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Lesson of the widow’s mite…

What if you wrote a blog and no one cared? I am not sure if I have anything prophetic to say, but maybe something I say can make someone’s day better. I’ll just try to be like the destitute widow (in Mark 12:41-44 and Luke 21: 1-4); offering all that I have for the glory of God as I feel moved. Because of my schedule as a Lutheran pastor, please be patient for new posts. Welcome to my first ever blog!

© 2011 The Rev. Louis Florio. All text and images not held under copyright by Word Press or another entity may not be used without permission of the author.

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