by Nicole Symmonds, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Nov 11, 2013 | Entertainment, Feature, Headline News |
“Don’t be culturally competitive while remaining spiritually bankrupt.”
This is a quote that popped up in my Twitter feed as I watched the series premiere of “Thicker than Water” a reality show that documents the prosperous yet problem-filled lives of the Tankards. The quote was attributed to Rev. William Curtis, pastor of Mt. Ararat Baptist Church in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania but I don’t think the tweet came as a response to the show although it came at just the right time.
“Thicker than Water,” the Tankard family from left to right: Britney, Cyrene, Jewel, Ben, Brooklyn, Benji, Shinara (Photo Credit: Bravo TV)
If the name Tankard sounds familiar it is because you probably own some of Ben Tankard’s music. He’s been called “the Quincy Jones of gospel music” specializing primarily in instrumental arrangements as well as producing other gospel artists. On “Thicker than Water” he is the father to a blended family of five children he likens to “The Black Brady Bunch,” a husband to a wife who is in love with money as much as he is, the pastor of the Destiny Center Church located in Murfeesboro, Tennessee, and an overall braggart about his wealth. Tankard is a true rags to riches story and isn’t afraid to tell it. Having experienced poverty at a young age and also homelessness when an injury threatened his promising NBA career, Tankard seems determined never to taste the bitter gall of poverty. As he says, “I’ve been poor, now I’m rich. Trust me, rich is better.” But it seems that riches have become the god of him and his wife–Jewel–and this is shown most clearly within the first five minutes of the show:
“The first time that I realized that God wanted us to be rich, I was a senior in college and I saw this phenomenal man and woman of God standing up and preaching the word of God and honey, wasn’t nothing broke about them! I said, “Oh Lord, this is the Jesus that I know.” Jewel Tankard
“You are supposed to dominate in life and certainly be a millionaire.” Ben Tankard
“We serve a God who is all about the bling in heaven. There’s no ghetto section of heaven.” Ben Tankard
“If I had to take a vow of poverty I would have never gotten saved.” Jewel Tankard
Tankard is a prosperity gospel preacher in the truest sense, telling his congregation they are meant to dominate and be millionaires. He also teaches this millionaire philosophy to his children and seems to be more interested in making them materially rich rather than spiritually rich. But all that glitters isn’t gold for the Tankards and the first show reveals some hints of the spiritual bankruptcy that is looming over the large family.
Brooklyn, Ben’s daughter from a previous marriage, holds no punches as an embittered daughter watching her father spoil and dote on her little sister Cyrene. For example, instead of supporting Brooklyn in her first marathon run, Ben and Jewel stayed home to document Cyrene getting ready for prom. Brooklyn watches Cyrene get rights and privileges that she never had growing up and she unabashedly shows her bitterness toward the loving father-daughter relationship she sees between Ben and Cyrene.
Cyrene is a classic baby of the family. She knows what to do to get what she wants and Ben and Jewel spoil her because of this. Of course this is all unfolding before Brooklyn’s eyes—because she lives at home with the Tankards along with her 10-year-old daughter Diamond. Brooklyn attributes her teen pregnancy and legal troubles—she ran an illegal strip joint that lead to her arrest—to her absent father. The dynamic between Brooklyn and Ben seems to be a promising storyline that may show America how a daughter reconciles with her previously prodigal father.
Benji, the only boy in the Tankard clan, appears to be a college dropout. A previous success story whom received a track scholarship to go to college, Benji partied too hard and had to leave school. Now he is back at home with the family—and his wife—trying to get a fresh start. Benji has dreams of becoming a millionaire like his father yet it doesn’t seem clear that he is doing anything substantial to get there.
Britney is the only Tankard—aside from Brooklyn—who seems determined not to subscribe to her family’s millionaire philosophy and lifestyle. She holds down a job, seems rather self-sufficient, and is closest to Brooklyn. We don’t know much about her backstory but I’m sure it will be revealed as the season goes forward.
Within the show’s first hour the Tankard’s paint the picture of a rich and happy family–or at least how they perceive rich and happy families to be. Mr. and Mrs. Tankard go shopping for jet planes like the average American goes shopping for a car. The Tankard family gathers together dressed in white and khaki to play croquette in the backyard. Cyrene, the Tankard baby, has a dreamboat boyfriend who looks like a black Ken doll and brings flowers to the family BBQ as he prepares to ask her to go to prom with him. Jewel Tankard arises each morning to recite a Billionaire Confession because, in her words, “I am already a millionairess, I am trying to become a billionairess.” They do well to fit into Bravo’s mold of rich reality television-ready families but they do nothing to fit into the mold of a Godly family. There, I said it.
Last night the Tankards joined the ranks of Bravo reality television families who are more concerned with maintaining fortune and B-level fame than they are of doing something fruitful with their time. They looked no different than the “Real Housewives of _________,” “The Shahs of Sunset,” “Vanderpump Rules,” and “The New Atlanta.” I have no qualms with the aforementioned shows and their respective casts pimping themselves out for a dollar because they aren’t champions for any cause other than their self-glorification. Nene and them have no responsibility to “stand out” because they’ve made no declaration of being sold out for Christ. But the Tankards, as a Christian family, headed by a preacher and psalmist of sorts of the gospel have a different responsibility. Their responsibility is to be a witness to God’s goodness in this world and that has very little to do with material wealth. If God’s goodness is reduced to how much God blesses people financially, then God is only blessing a few people while the rest of us are living outside of the blessing. God’s blessings are deeper than our pockets, don’t believe the Tankards or any prosperity gospel hype.
Revisiting the Rev. William Curtis’s quote from earlier, the Tankards have now positioned themselves as cultural competitors who are on the verge of becoming spiritually bankrupt. They have seemingly traded being champions for Christ in the public eye for being champions of wealth and adoration of people. This adoration isn’t even for the work that they do for God–which is something we could argue the “Preachers of LA” do; it is adoration because of what they believe God has given them, wealth and riches. They have crossed into the territory of worshipping and glorifying the gifts instead of the giver and I fear that they don’t even know it. But this is all just from a first impression, the impression that we claim is the most important. For the Tankard’s sake, let’s hope they use the second episode and the season at large to leave a better impression.
by Nicole Symmonds, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Nov 5, 2013 | Entertainment, Feature, Headline News |
After this weekend some might say it’s a good time to be a black woman in America, at least on television. They might say this after watching Kerry Washington’s debut on Saturday Night Live and BET’s annual “Black Girl Rocks” celebration. While those things are all good, I think there was an important message that was communicated delivered between Saturday and Sunday, the message being that black women need to define themselves in the media.
On Saturday night Kerry Washington made her debut appearance on Saturday Night Live. This was a big deal because in the preceding weeks, SNL cast member Kenan Thompson claimed that black female comics aren’t ready for SNL which lead to a huge backlash. After Thompson’s statement, Washington was announced as the host of the show as if she was behind the scenes with Pope & Associates plotting this all along. Like many, I was looking forward to seeing Washington take on sketch comedy over her weekly role as Ms. Fix It/Adulteress. I had hope during the opener where she played Michelle Obama to Jay Pharoah’s Barack Obama. Things were moving along brilliantly as fictitious Barack remarked to fictitious Michelle that it has been too long since he has seen her–a jab at the fact that there isn’t anyone to play Michelle Obama and the current black male cast members–Pharoah and Thompson–have sworn off dressing as women for skits. The fictitious couple’s pleasantries were interrupted when a White House aide announced the arrival of Oprah. But who would play Oprah? The one black woman currently on screen of course! Washington rushed out of the room and as she changed into Oprah’s best, the following words appeared on the screen:
“The producers at “Saturday Night Live” would like to apologize to Kerry Washington for the number of black women she will be asked to play. We make these requests because Ms. Washington is an actress of considerable range and talent — and also because SNL does not currently have a black woman on the cast. Mostly the latter. We agree this is not an ideal situation and look forward to rectifying it in the near future, unless, of course, we fall in love with another white guy first.”
Following the text’s conclusion, Washington rushed backed into the room doing a spot-on impression of Oprah only to discover that Beyonce just arrived and she would be responsible for being the pop-diva. She disappeared again leaving Barack and his aide to their own devices along with six different Matthew McConaugheys–because there are enough cast members to render six different McConaugheys. The cold opener concluded with a special guest appearance by the Rev. Al Sharpton who concluded that as usual nothing was learned from this bit and then he said those famous words, “Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!”
Alas my excitement dissipated about two sketches in as I realized that many of the characters that Washington played were stereotypes of black women. First there was Tammy, the blonde-wig wearing, gum snapping, ghetto-attitudinal assistant to Heshy, a female motivational speaker from Yemen. This was followed by the nagging, nosey girlfriend in “What Does My Girl Say?” a cover of the strangely popular Norwegian dance song “What Does the Fox Say?” (Which, I might add, was one of the funnier sketches of the evening.) Washington also played a strong, quasi-militant black female professor from Spelman–complete with a tightly-packed afro, an overly inquisitive pageant contestant from Uganda, a perky game show host, a despised high school teacher with heavy Jersey accent and a ditzy dating show contestant. All of these roles could fall somewhere on the spectrum of stereotypes of black women and though it can be argued that it was all for the sake of comedy or making a statement about the lack of diversity, it’s hard to push this argument when on any other Saturday night white comediennes have the opportunity to play roles that don’t depend on stereotypes about white women. For an actress with such range, it was disappointing to see her playing token roles that weren’t even worth the laughs. But I believe what happened on SNL is what happens when our images are crafted and written largely by people who aren’t black women and know nothing (truly) about the black female experience.
SNL currently has 23 writers, four women who are white, one black male—at least that I could find, and the rest are white males. Considering those demographics, I’m not sure how one could do anything but write stereotypical scripts for the few black actresses that walk through the door. The sad thing is, while universalizing the experience of all women is a mistake, failing to see where there is convergence is also problematic. A sketch that dramatized the interaction between black and white women and the missteps that occur—not limited to the “You can or can’t touch my hair” issue—would have been funny. Or maybe a sketch that didn’t rely on race and ethnicity markers–a well done skit, not a throwaway skit such as the game show and dating show sketches. There are other ways that Washington’s talents could have been used that didn’t rely on tried and true stereotypes and this is particularly significant because it is on the heels of the lack of black comedienne’s debacle. But, Washington can’t resolve SNL’s 39-year grievance all by herself, although she did a hell of a job trying. Given this,“Black Girls Rock” came at a perfect time to offset any hard feelings about Saturday Night Live missteps.
“Black Girls Rock” is a “non-profit youth empowerment and mentoring organization established to promote the arts for young women of color, as well as to encourage dialogue and analysis of the ways women of color are portrayed in the media.” A few years ago, the organization partnered with BET to broadcast an annual celebration of black girls/women through performance, the presentation of awards, and paying homage to trailblazers throughout the ages. I, like many, black women look forward to this show because it is one of the few opportunities that black women are guaranteed to see mirror images of themselves on television. This year women such as Marian Wright Edelman, the founder of the Children’s Defense Fund; and Ameena Matthews, a violence interrupter and activist in Chicago were honored alongside living musical legends such as Patti LaBelle, television producer Mara Brock Akil, and black ballerina Misty Copeland. The audience alone is enough to put every television network to shame that claims an interest in black women without actually showing it. Black Girls Rock showcases girls and women of every complexion, shape and size, and walk of life and each of them, in their existence, shatters a misconception or stereotype of black women. Black women are more than the limited narratives that mainstream media portrays. To see the Rock Star award go to Queen Latifah and listen to her proclaim that she never imagined she’d be a Cover Girl because of the color of her skin, or be a star because of her size is encouraging and an encouragement to the next generation to let them know that the doors are open for them and sky’s the limit. “Never let anyone tell you that you should stand behind them. You are the leader, you stand in front,” Latifah said and this is a message that rings true beyond Black Girl Rocks into the spaces of Saturday Night Live and beyond.
Caribbean-American writer and activist Audre Lorde once said, “ If I didn’t define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people’s fantasies for me and eaten alive.” While Washington’s appearance on Saturday Night Live shows a sign of progression, it could also be a version of being eaten alive. Eaten alive by closed-minded writers. Eaten alive by narrow narratives of the black woman in media. Even eaten alive because your biggest fans are more willing to support you just because you are black and they are too without requiring anymore of you. Without requiring you to fight for better representation of black women in media even when it is just for a laugh. A moment in television such as “Black Girls Rock” gives black women and little black girls an opportunity to define themselves for themselves precisely because they are provided with images of themselves as activists, artists, actresses, teachers, preachers, and other “sheroes.” They see more of what they can be. In all of this I don’t want to discount the actual Tammys of the world, the nagging girlfriends, the quasi-militant Spelman professors, or any of the other stereotypes used in theatrical dramatizations of black women because they are a part of us too. But more and more, our little black girls and young black women need to see what they can be over what has been perceived about them over the years. More and more they need to see that Black Girls Rock. That is, “Black Girls Rock” in particular and black girls rocking in general.
by Jelani Greenidge, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Nov 2, 2013 | Entertainment, Feature, Headline News, Jelani Greenidge |
Grand Theft Auto V, Pictured (L-R): Trevor Phillips, Franklin Clinton & Michael De Santa (Photo Credit: Rockstar Games)
Since September 17th, the day that Rockstar Games and Take Two Interactive unleashed “Grand Theft Auto V” (GTA V) for video game consoles, gamers around the world have been immersed in the sordid tale of criminal enterprise set against the beautiful vistas of Los Santos, the fictional version of Los Angeles. GTA V grossed over $800 million in 24 hours and broke the $1 billion mark in only three days, surpassing revenue totals for every feature film released in 2013 except “Iron Man 3.”
Those numbers are certainly impressive, but they also speak to the encroachment of video games into the same segment of the social literary sphere that used to be occupied only by feature films. From a pragmatic standpoint, it’s no wonder the average 20-something adult male would jump at the chance to participate in an entertainment experience like GTA V, because $60 for about 100 hours of immersive entertainment is a bargain compared to $12-15 for a two-hour feature film. Especially because games like GTA take the fantasy of wish-fulfillment, which has been embedded in the film industry for decades, and takes it to – pardon the pun – the next level.
GTA V follows the gripping tales of Franklin Clinton, Michael De Santa, and Trevor Phillips, the three criminal protagonists whose lives are interwoven in dramatic, funny and occasionally heartrending ways. But the gameplay mechanic, which involves traveling to various locales in the city and then carrying out the various missions that help to advance the story, requires copious amounts of driving and shooting. In order to make it easier to get around, the game makes it simple to acquire a car. You either steal one that’s unoccupied, or with a brief threat and an unceremonious shove, you jack one from an unsuspecting motorist – hence the name.
Just relax, don’t fight it, and no one’s getting shot. (Photo Credit: Rockstar Games)
To be fair, over the years the GTA franchise has become more complex and interesting than just a bunch of guys who steal cars. In GTA, car theft is just a means to more lucrative ends — bank robberies and drug battles mostly, with legitimate business objective sprinkled throughout. With family connections, bitter betrayals, and a sense of burning resentment, GTA V has just as many thematic similarities with “The Sopranos” as it does “The Fast and the Furious.” I almost wonder if it needs a new title – after all, Aaron Sorkin’s drama about presidential politics wasn’t called “Walk and Talk,” even though that’s all that happened on that show.
But I digress.
My point is that at almost any given moment in GTA V, you’re engaged in either an epic shootout, or you’re driving around beautiful vistas with a brand new, shiny vehicle. And since cars and guns are two of the top three ingredients for the standard wish-fulfillment fantasy of the classic American male, the only thing left is sex.
Which brings me to one of the biggest problems of the game.
Why am I arresting you? For failing to be anything more than a stock character. (Photo Credit: Rockstar Games)
To say that GTA V is misogynist is to criminally understate the obvious. Yes, there are strip clubs and prostitutes, the inclusion of which tends to dominate most of the self-righteous, what-about-the-children haranguing that tends to follow any GTA release. It should go without saying that all of the GTA titles are rated “M-for-mature,” and probably would’ve been rated “AO (Adults Only),” except for the political nightmare that would be for big-box retailers. It’s usually the most careless, ill-informed, lazy parents of entitled children that purchase games like GTA for their grade-school-age kids – especially when the sales clerk tries to talk them out of it.
But strippers and prostitutes are only a tiny part of this very, very large game, just as vice crime is only part of the larger criminal underworlds that tend to inhabit cities like Los Angeles. What makes GTA V so misogynist is the lack of inclusion of any meaningful female characters at all. In GTA V, the women of Los Santos, when they’re not sex workers, are marginalized to the point of near invisibility. The three love interests opposite Franklin, Michael and Trevor are one-dimensional caricatures that come off pretty jarringly, especially in contrast to the way each of the men are treated as complex people, with a variety of needs, motives and personalities. And the rest are one-note bystanders or bit players.
One of the things I really liked about GTA V was the way that it gradually introduced the player to the various colorful characters, main and supporting, that appear in both the cover art and the slide show during game installation. Each of the men is rendered in vivid detail, an introductory snapshot that foreshadows their part of the story. But there were also three ladies, including one female cop arresting an escort. Where were they? Who were they? I played through the main storyline, and never found out. Apparently to Dan Houser and the rest of the creative staff at Rockstar, they were little more than window dressing.
And that really gets to the heart of what’s wrong with GTA as a whole.
by Ramon Mayo | Oct 29, 2013 | Entertainment, Feature, Headline News |
Close up of a happy young couple looking at mobile phone
I recently heard Ben Huh the CEO of the popular Internet meme site icanhas.cheeseburger.com say, “The greatest tool for engaging the 35 year old and under crowd is humor.” You have to look no further than the Christian comedy group The Playmakers to see this truth in action. Brothers Kevin and Jason Fredericks along with friend Anthony Davis give us a reason to laugh at the Black Christian culture. Their comedic hijinks and commentary on black church life have made them an Internet sensation with skits such as Stuff Black Church Girls Say and 10 Types of Black Preachers (see below). They have smashed many sacred cows in their attempt to bring humor to the masses but some may think they have gone too far.
Historically, the church hasn’t been a bastion of joviality and humor. Many believe that the church is about being gloomy and somber. That the church seems to take itself too seriously is probably one of the reasons it often gets made fun of. With such a weighty topic as the salvation of millions from hell, our sacred establishments can often be seen as killjoys to all the fun that life has to offer.
After all, most of the time the church is seen as criticizing sinners for going to parties, instead of hosting parties itself. Pictures of long-faced Puritans and old grumpy ladies fill our minds when it comes to our image of church. This makes church and humor appear as far apart as the east is from the west. But what if this is actually not in alignment with the character and content of the Bible?
Contrary to popular belief, the Bible is full of humor. The subtlety and intellectual wit of the Bible is often not seen because of the lens with which we come to it with, but it is there nonetheless. Elton Trueblood, the author of The Humor of Christ, states “Any alleged Christianity which fails to express itself in gaiety, at some point, is clearly spurious.” To put it simply, from the pages of Genesis all the way to Revelation God’s “got jokes.”
- The story of Jacob waking up married to the wrong sister sounds like a plot from a silly Hollywood rom-com flick (Genesis 29:16–30).
- The pictures in Proverbs of a sluggard turning on his bed like a door on hinges (Proverbs 26:14) or of a man sitting on the rooftop to get away from his nagging wife (Proverbs 21:9) had to jar the first readers in a way that Internet memes now jar us.
- The one-liners of Elijah making fun of the priests of Baal (1 Kings 18:27) or of Paul making fun of the Judaizers (Galatians 5:12) are as sharp as anything from the hottest comedians on the comedy channel.
And what does all this humor show us? God has a sense of humor, and He must have one to make such silly and foolish creatures as human beings. If the Bible is full of this humor, then how much more so should the church be full of humor? The Playmakers have caught on to this truth. Their videos expose the foolishness of the many sacred cows in Black religious subculture and, whether intentionally or not, we are brought to a place where we can go back to the Bible and obey what it really says.
Jesus cut to the truth in His sermons by focusing on humorous exaggerated realities in order to highlight convicting principles from God’s word. His hyperbole and caricatures of the Pharisees probably jarred his audience not only because they were so severe, but also because to the 1st century Palestinian mind, they were hilarious. Whitewashed tombs, camels going through the eye of needles, and blind men following other blind men into a ditch had to provoke chuckles from his audience.
The Playmakers comedy can be used in the same way. The 10 Types of Black Preachers and the Stuff Black Church Girls Say are definitely hilarious, and at the same time they remind us of our hypocrisy and disobedience and point to a different way to be the church in the world.
So how far is too far? It all depends on what we are making fun of. If we are making fun of religious people like Jesus often did, then humor is fair game. If we are making fun of God himself, then we are on dangerous ground. The Playmakers remind us that we have sacred cows that need to be smashed and some traditions are just that—traditions—and they have nothing to do with living the life that Jesus called us to live.
In the words of Elton Trueblood “Our problem is that we take ourselves too seriously. That is why we have difficulty seeing the humor of Christ.” On that note let’s applaud The Playmakers for allowing us to not take ourselves too seriously while taking Christ as seriously as possible.
by Jelani Greenidge, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Oct 18, 2013 | Entertainment, Headline News, Jelani Greenidge |
I guess there’s a pretty good market for this Christian stuff, then?”
That was a throwaway line in the middle of a scene between the two romantic leads of “I’m In Love with a Church Girl,” played by Ja Rule and Adrienne Bailon, but it might as well have been the Freudian rationale for this film’s existence. Writer and producer Galley Molina may have had the purest motives for this release, but its script and direction seem to be communicating an auxiliary message from its stated intent – See? Christians can be cool! We even got a real rapper!
It pains me to say that because the central message of the film – that God uses all of our circumstances for His glory and for our transformation into who He’s called us to be – is a great message. And it’s not that its central premise of a high-rolling drug dealer falling for a church girl and his life turning upside down is a bad one. That’s Molina’s story, and I give him credit for being willing to adapt it into a feature film and invest his own resources into telling it. But pulling off a movie like this means striking the right balance between being safe enough for the church audiences who will support the film financially, but “street” enough to attract a mainstream audience. This film does the first well, but laughably flails in its attempts to do the second. And it’s not the production values that are the problem.
In terms of the look and feel of the film, “Church Girl” looks legit. The aerial shots are there, the soaring musical cues are right on the money, the slow-motion gangsta postures in the club, the getting-the-crew-together montages…it’s all there. It all feels like a “real movie…” which is, I guess, so much of the problem. This movie tries so hard. So hard! Just to feel like it’s doing everything right. If anything, it could’ve used a little indie film, rough-around-the-edges type vibe, just to help viewers relax and get into it.
Molina clearly has a lot of experience in the entertainment industry, and his pastoral heart is evident enough (he has a cameo as a pastor), but his writing, combined with director Steve Race’s visuals, makes the whole thing seem so heavy handed. I wonder if some overbearing church lady hovered over Molina and Race on set and in the edit bay, scowling and complaining that the movie isn’t holy enough (which might explain the final introductory credit listing God as executive producer). Ease up, church lady!
The film has real moments of authenticity, such as the climactic scene where Rule’s character Miles Montego cries out in anguish to God, but it starts off so stilted that it almost becomes a parody of itself. There’s a moment after Miles’ opening verbal salvo, where it cuts to the stained glass face of Jesus, looking regal, stately and distant. It probably wasn’t supposed to be funny, but it was, to me.
Ja Rule and Adrienne Bailon have decent chemistry in the film, and the supporting work from holy hip-hop veteran Rene Sotomayor (a.k.a T-Bone) as Montego’s right hand, plus brief appearances by Vincent Pastore, (“The Sopranos”), Daniel P. Conte (“Goodfellas”), and Michael Madsen (“Reservoir Dogs”) all help to elevate the proceedings, but their acting can only do so much with such clunky writing.
Israel Houghton’s involvement will be a big draw to gospel music fans, and in that respect, the film does not disappoint. The soundtrack has plenty of funk, gospel, R&B, and hip-hop to fill the movie’s pivotal moments, including a new recording of a Houghton classic, “I Surrender.” As a fan of Christian music in general, I enjoyed appearances by T-Bone and TobyMac, not only onscreen but through their musical cues. (Though I did roll my eyes pretty hard at a scene in a fictional Christian bookstore, plugging T-Bone’s “Bone-A-Fide” album. Christian bookstores with CDs, in tech-savvy northern Cali? What is this, 2003?)
Artistic sensibilities aside, I also wonder if some of the details in “Church Girl” might be sending unintentionally misleading messages about the realities of dating and courtship. I know that part of the tension in stories like this is in watching the bad boy test the good girl’s boundaries[i], but it was somewhat frustrating watching Vanessa’s character be so knowledgeable about the Bible and full of upstanding Christian conduct, and yet react so naively to Miles’ advances. Any adolescent or teenage girls in attendance should be lovingly engaged in a post-movie debrief, otherwise they may walk out of the film thinking that the moral is that missionary dating is perfectly fine as long as the dude makes enough money to regularly buy lavish gifts.
Nevertheless, there are plenty of good messages and performances in “Church Girl,” which is probably enough for many of the churchgoing faithful in the target audience. And I must admit, it’s refreshing to watch a film so doggone earnest in its presentation of its worldview–considering how much snark and sarcasm tends to rule the day. Here’s to hoping earnest makes a comeback.
[i][i][i] A riskier version of this film would’ve included Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” somewhere in the initial meet-cute scenario. As much as I detest the message of that song, it could’ve been used here to good effect.
by Nicole Symmonds, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Oct 11, 2013 | Entertainment, Headline News |
“Preachers of LA” from left to right: Deitrick Haddon, Bishop Ron Gibson, Pastor Wayne Chaney, Pastor Jay Haizlip, Bishop Clarence McClendon, Bishop Noel Jones
A few months ago Oxygen released a trailer for their new reality show “Preachers of LA.” From the looks of the trailer, the show was going to be all about the prosperous life of six Los Angeles-based pastors: Bishop Noel Jones, Minister Deitrick Haddon, Bishop Ron Gibson, Bishop Clarence McClendon, Pastor Jay Haizlip, and Pastor Wayne Chaney.
At first glance it looked like the men could be sized up into caricatures of pastors:
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Bishop Noel Jones, the older single pastor who enjoys his toys
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Minister Deitrick Haddon the young pastor and musician trying to make a comeback after a fall from grace
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Bishop Ron Gibson the reformed gang member who still visits the ‘hood
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Bishop Clarence McClendon the pretty boy pastor who is about his Father’s business, emphasis on “business”
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Pastor Jay Haizlip the former skateboarder pastor with the sleeve tattoos to prove he was radical
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Pastor Wayne Chaney the pastor who is out to prove that you can be saved, sanctified and sexual.
But in the show’s premiere, the aforementioned caricatures were less interesting than the people themselves and, I found, the categories I could place these men in are the very categories they are trying to break out of–at least on camera. The show’s premiere gave viewers just a snapshot of the pastors luxurious lives and more of a close-up at some of the issues these men face.
Deitrick Haddon is trying to break free of his past mistakes. The gospel artist and pastor is making a comeback and the show is his platform. Yet his comeback is intricately tied up in everyone’s perception of him given his failed marriage and having a child out of wedlock before the ink on his divorce papers dried. Haddon admits that he fell from grace but is working his way back to the throne of grace. In the premiere he shared an intimate moment with Dominique, his fiancée, who remarked that his comeback concert—a focal point for the premiere—was going to be their re-introduction to the kingdom. Haddon’s response to this was that they never left the kingdom, a poignant moment that could also be a word for those of us ready to put people out of the kingdom because of their mistakes, and for those of us who may have felt put out of the kingdom because of our own mistakes.
Bishop Ron Gibson is the pastor for those living in a “Gangsta’s Paradise” which is not too far-fetched since he came out of the same context. Gibson was raised in South Central, Los Angeles, was a member of the Compton Crips and was addicted to PCP before Christ changed his life. The premiere frames Gibson as a man who hasn’t forgotten where he came from and follows him as he travels between his new ‘hood and his old ‘hood to preach the gospel to those still in the gang life. Gibson also appears to be the chief earthly reconciler of the show, bringing men together across the divide as demonstrated in an altar call and his “Man Cave” gathering on the first episode. Awareness of the past and reconciliation aside, I wonder if anyone else caught Gibson telling his wife that he would bring Christ but he would also bring the law–in a form of a gun–in case things got sticky in his meeting with some young gang members. Isn’t this counterintuitive for a pastor or is it just common sense for a pastor in his position working in a gang context?
Pastor Wayne Chaney’s most poignant line on the premiere might have been, “Christians can be saved, sanctified, and sexual” but I dare to think that it is helpful as a statement for Christians who are struggling to understand the sexual side of themselves. I, for one, am hoping that he carries his talk of being “saved, sanctified, and sexual” forward in ways that open up a discussion on the topic for young and old Christians alike. It will be interesting to see how a pastor, who is clearly outspoken about this topic, lives it out in a way that others may be able to follow. I really hope it isn’t just ratings bait.
Pastor Jay Haizlip is the lone white pastor on the show. Hailing from Alabama but raised in Los Angeles, he claims the skateboard as a formative part of his life. It is on the skateboard that he experienced great highs—he is considered a pioneer in the sport of skateboarding—and lows—he was addicted to drugs for twelve years. Hitting rock bottom is what brought Haizlip to God and from the snippets that we’re shown of his ministry, it is clear that both he and his wife Christy have a heart for young people. But we also see that there is something of a fracture in their relationship, particularly in Christy balancing her role as wife, mother, and first lady. In the season to follow it seems that their issues will be dealing with marriage and identity.
Bishop Noel Jones is the lone single pastor on the show with a trip down the aisle nowhere in sight. This seems to be fine for Jones who has been divorced for 20 years and has had his fair share of women approaching him because he is in a position of power. Jones was nearly absent in the premiere episode so it is unclear what his role will be. However, it will be interesting to watch how marriage and relationships, though seemingly not a central concern for him, may play a role in his life on the show. Like every other pastor, Jones was introduced with a woman by his side, although this woman is just a friend—a friend of 15 years whom also appears single. We may witness an unfolding of the age-old question of whether men and women can be “just friends” or some big reveal of two friends finally realizing they are madly in love with each other. If we are lucky though, we will witness none of that and we’ll see who Bishop Jones is apart from a pursuit of love and the notion that a single pastor should be interested in getting married.
Bishop Clarence McClendon is last, but not least. Of all of the pastors on the show it seems that McClendon is most caught up in the trappings of a luxurious lifestyle and the persona of an entrepreneurial pastor. He has a beautiful house, a beautiful wife, beautiful children, and if people are willing to admit it and not blush, he is beautiful. But what may come to a head for him in this show is his businessman image. A hint at this was provided in the concluding minutes of the premiere when McClendon and Haddon argued about the role of a pastor when other churches request his or her presence as a guest speaker/preacher. Of this McClendon said, “If somebody comes and asks me, ‘I want you to come and speak at my men’s fellowship,’ I may not be the guy—just because you are asking me.” Haddon disagreed with McClendon and told him, in a response that I believe resonated with many, “You are always the guy to come because you have a word and God has anointed you for the people.” Unfortunately this response didn’t diffuse McClendon and he and Haddon argued until the “On this season of ‘Preachers of LA’” preview reel rolled.
Now I confess that all I have written is mere speculation about the direction of the show. I may be seeing more than is actually there and more than will actually be there, but I am hopeful. I say this as someone who saw the show’s trailer and despised what its marketed premise was—a show about prosperity gospel preachers prospering. I, like many, have questioned the motives of the network for showcasing these men and focusing any attention on their material wealth when what the world needs to see is the substance and fruit of their ministry. My hope is that throughout this season we will see more of the latter than the former and that none of us would forget that each of these men are human and prone to every temptation and mistake that we laypeople face. I think it will be interesting to watch these men flourish or fade in the spotlight and it will be just as interesting to see how believers accept or reject these men in the public sphere. I know that there are many people railing against this show, saying that it is a disgrace to the kingdom and that these pastors aren’t being true Christians and I understand almost every argument that could be waged against the show at this point. But I also think there is something to be said for taking the time to watch the show and let these men and women tell their stories, the whole story—or as much as we can glean from a season—before we judge them.
As with all reality television there will be a fair amount of editing to create situations that might not look authentic and are all for the ratings. We know that is the case for every Housewives show and yet some of us are glued to our television sets to watch what happens next–and judge of course. We have given catty women with largely fictitious lives the benefit of the doubt by way of our continued support of their shows throughout the years, now we should make the same allowance for these men of God–or at least men who perceive themselves as men of God. Men some of us actually know minister and bless some of God’s people behind the scenes regardless of whether we agree with their theology or not. We should do so all the more because our hope is that they will represent something bigger than themselves, God. And we should do so because we hope that by the end of this season, someone might come to learn something about God, particularly God’s forgiveness, grace, and mercy. My hope is that people won’t walk away from this show thinking about the prosperity gospel or that God blesses those who serve God with material wealth because that is–in my view–not the best gift that God gives to those whom serve and preach the word of God. And to aspire to preach the Gospel for any reward aside from that which is beyond us is a vain hope at best. In all of this, my hope is that we might see more in these men and this show than prosperity and that our critique will leave some room for hope that a change can still come.
