by Jelani Greenidge, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Mar 13, 2015 | Entertainment, Jelani Greenidge |
PureFlix Entertainment, a trusted name in faith-friendly movies, has an urban inspirational film called Do You Believe on the way to theatres.
Director Jon Gunn, recruited by producer Harold Cronk and screenwriters Cary Solomon and Chuck Konzelman (the trio behind the 2014 release God’s Not Dead) is bringing to life a multi-layered emotional journey with an ensemble cast, headlined by Cybill Shepherd (“Moonlighting”) Lee Majors (“The Fall Guy”) and Ted McGinley (“The West Wing”) and also featuring a bevy of accomplished actors and stars-in-waiting, including JJ Soria (The Fast & The Furious, “Army Wives”) Mira Sorvino (“Falling Skies”) Senyo Amoaku (The Expendables), Sean Astin (The Lord of the Rings), Delroy Lindo (“The Chicago Code”) Tracy Melchior (“The Bold & The Beautiful”), former UFC champion Mavrick von Haug, and rapper Shwayze.
In October, I traveled to Grand Rapids, Michigan for a meet-and-greet with several members of the cast and crew, and then visited the set, on location in sleepy Manistee (right off the coast of Lake Michigan), in order to get an insider view on how the film was coming along.
Full disclosure, the travel costs were covered by PureFlix and their promotional partners, so of course, I heard 48 hours of nonstop praise for the film. However, I have a pretty active layer of skepticism whenever I’m subjected to boilerplate marketing copy, and I still came away from the experience feeling pretty good about the movie’s prospects, not only as a successful commercial investment, but as a vehicle for evangelism.
Here are three reasons why…
1. It has a relatively diverse cast.
Borrowing from the Crash playbook requires a wider variety of characters than what we saw in God’s Not Dead, and it appears that with Do You Believe, we’ll get it. Cybill Shepherd and Lee Majors may be headlining as the graceful diva / elder statesman combo, but in the clips we saw and the cast that we heard from directly (as well as other cast referenced whose shooting schedules didn’t coincide with the set visit, such as the aforementioned Delrey Lindo), it seems like diversity is a priority in this picture. That doesn’t ensure greatness, of course, but for audiences who prioritize it, it’d be a reason for a second glance at the multiplex or the Redbox.
Ensemble films can be hit or miss, because they require a lot of story juggling and have less time for character development or plot exposition. But this one seems to be well cast. I’m particularly looking forward to seeing more of JJ Soria’s character, who is one of the film’s heroes, and who has an extended action sequence during the finale. The last time I saw a faith-based film with a strong Latino lead was Eduardo Verástegui in the 2007 indie film Bella. In the cast Q&A, Soria mentioned that he often turns down faith-friendly scripts because they’re too cheesy, but in this case, he made an exception. Here’s hoping that JJ Soria can keep building his faith-film curriculum vita.
2. The tone seems to be less combative than the previous film.
From the title itself to the poster art to the scripted showdowns between professor and student, God’s Not Dead clearly appealed to a subset of Christian audiences who are conservative, weary from being disparaged by secular press, and in the words of character Howard Beale from Network, “mad as hell and not going to take it anymore.”
In this film, that strident feel seems a little toned down. The issues of Christian identity in the public square are still there – one of the characters’ life is turned upside down after sharing his faith in the middle of a work-related crisis – and they might still have the same thought-provoking result, but the clips that we saw didn’t seem to be as shrill or confrontational.
This bodes well for the film, because I’m sure the release date is designed to coincide with Easter and facilitate a massive campaign for churches to invite nonbelievers to the local multiplex for a screening of the film. Living in the Pacific Northwest, one of the most unchurched regions in the country, it’s been my experience that people who aren’t believers don’t like being lectured to onscreen.
3. Bigger budget, actual action sequences
The financial success of God’s Not Dead has given the filmmakers a larger margin of error, which has given them a bit more creative freedom to stage more of the kind of dramatic sequences with action and spectacle that are cost-prohibitive when filmmaking on a shoestring budget. Obviously, no one will mistake this film for a Michael Bay or Jerry Bruckheimer production, but the location of Manistee, MI seemed like an inspired choice, not only for its bucolic views and enthusiastic locals, but because many of the costs associated with staging and fabricating stunts and stunt vehicles can be done more inexpensively and with less red tape in small-town Michigan than in New York City or Los Angeles.
These three factors by themselves certainly do not ensure a successful film, either commercially or artistically. However, the sneak peek I got from PureFlix Entertainment makes me think that this spring, Christian audiences will be in for a treat.
Here’s to hoping they’re right.
by Jelani Greenidge, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Feb 12, 2015 | Entertainment, Jelani Greenidge |
Welcome to Part 2 of Testifyin’ or Signifyin’, an analysis of whether the many choir appearances and Christian allusions presented at the Grammy Awards were doing good work or perpetrating a fraud. As a reminder, here is the scale that I based my assessment on:
-Artistic style points: How does the choir enhance or detract from the overall experience?
-Social buzz: Did it look like a stunt to get attention, or was it a naturally buzzworthy performance?
-The faith factor: Does the song sound like an authentic expression of faith?
-Special circumstances: Is there anything else that elevates or detracts? Is there a certain je ne sais quoi about the musical performance?*
From this thoroughly biased, quasi-scientific process,** each song was given an appropriation index, and a final verdict. Is the choir appearance in this song one that testifies to the goodness of God, or is it signifyin’ – playfully insulting the faithful with irreligious or profane imagery?
Let’s go (back) to the tape!
Pharrell, “Happy”
Appropriation index: 3
Pharrell performing “Happy” at the 2015 Grammy Awards.
I give him one thing right off the top – Pharrell Williams is nothing if not eclectic. And considering how ubiquitous his hit was in 2014, you knew that for this special night, he was going to have to do something different.
And different, it was.
From the dramatic spoken word opening (interpreted in various foreign languages) to the string-heavy orchestral accompaniment, to the impressive solo from Chinese pianist Lang Lang, to the phalanx of players, dancers and singers accessorized in white, black and yellow, it seemed like the production was designed to elicit gasps every 30 seconds. By the end of the song, I was expecting military helicopters to detonate the roof so that a UFO could abduct Pharrell with a beam of light, “Close Encounters” style.
Ironically, the one emotion this song didn’t seem to really capture was happiness. The first chorus was in a minor key, and hearing the sound of the choir belting out the words about happiness to minor string arpeggios felt a little ominous. During the solo, his brown-skinned, black-hooded dancers, adopted the “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot” pose, which has become the universal sign of nonverbal protest against police brutality. That was great! I loved that he put that in there, but that’s not exactly a posture of happiness.
Matter of fact, It took almost four minutes for the arrangement to sound at all like the song we’ve all grown to like, love, and then get tired of.
So on the one hand, I give Pharrell a lot of credit for trying to endow more significance to a song that was initially just about being so happy that you don’t give a bleep what people think. On the other hand, I think his exuberance and willingness to jam so many ideas and images into one song made it feel chaotic and scattered. Whatever unity of message he was trying to deliver was sidetracked by the variety of spectacle and the thematic disconnect between interpersonal happiness and societal injustice.
But those yellow-sequined shoes, those were kinda fly. Was that enough to make up for the existential crisis we all witnessed? It’s hard to say.
The verdict: BOTH TESTIFYIN’ AND SIGNIFYIN’
Beyoncé, “Take my Hand, Precious Lord”
Appropriation score: 1.5
Beyonce performing “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” at the 2015 Grammy Awards.
Okay, so here’s the thing.
Beyoncé sang “Precious Lord, Take My Hand,” accompanied by a choir of tuxedoed black men. It’s the same song that the Mahalia Jackson was famous for singing, widely reported as Dr. King’s favorite.
As Kevin Bacon said in A Few Good Men, these are the facts, and they are indisputable.
But if you were on social media at all during the telecast on Sunday night, then you know this much already. And you’ve likely heard a hundred different takes, all clustered around two basic questions – did she do the song justice, and/or should someone else have been invited – namely Ledisi, who played Mahalia Jackson in Selma, and who’s garnered a reputation of her own as an incredible soul singer.
Here’s my take.
I think she did a nice job. Not a great job, but a good one. I would’ve preferred Ledisi do it, but it’s obvious that eyeballs rule when television decisions are being made, and no one can deny that Ledisi wouldn’t deliver anywhere near the number of eyeballs as Queen Bey.
That said, it was clear from her performance that the song was meaningful to her, and just in case the performance wasn’t convincing, she also had someone cut a brief rehearsal documentary to talk about why she wanted to do it and why she had a choir of black men up there with her. In it, she mentions the struggles her parents and grandparents faced, and she talks about how she wanted to sing from their pain.
I think that’s an admirable goal, but slightly misguided. Struggle and pain are not exactly synonymous with the Beyoncé brand. Not that she doesn’t have problems like the next person, but, well, no, she doesn’t. Not that she doesn’t have problems, but they’re not like the next person’s. (I’m resisting the obvious Jay-Z joke there.)
So yeah, it looks a little hypocritical to win a Grammy for “Drunk In Love” and then get up to sing that song. She certainly had a right to do it, and it made plenty of good business sense to do it, but I think it would’ve been classier to at least share the stage with Ledisi. Especially with her sheer, flowing quasi-wedding dress look, the whole thing just looked a little self-indulgent. The tenor of the performance was grounded enough overall that the whole thing still went relatively well. But, in this case, she needed the choir a lot more than the choir needed her. I could’ve just watched the choir by itself and been fine.
Also, I could’ve lived without a few of her runs, and maybe a little less of her rapid vibrato.
The verdict: TESTIFYIN’ (mostly)
John Legend featuring Common, “Glory”
Appropriation score: 0
What’s a zero appropriation score mean? It means they brought it.
Common & John Legend performing “Glory” at the 2015 Grammy Awards.
The rap bars were passionate and on-point. The lyrics were full of Scriptural references that embodied the struggle for civil rights. And, more than anything else, it seemed that both Common and John Legend, in their respective rhyming and crooning, were using their voices as proxies for the collective whole, not grabbing the spotlight for themselves.
And the choir was perfect. Dignified, but still full of fighter’s passion. Restrained, but pulsating with rhythmic intensity. As Common’s wordplay danced between the staccato bows of the strings, and John Legend’s plaintive wails echoed against his stark piano chords, the choir continued to respond to their call. Purely aesthetically, it was amazing.
But most importantly, the song seemed to echo God’s truth for all people – that we long for the Lord’s coming because His return will usher in a new era of justice and peace. And in that judgment, on that cataclysmic day, we will not only see the Lord’s glory, but we’ll be able to partake in it.
What I loved most about the arrangement was the very end, right when it looked like it was over, the strings kept playing as the lights dimmed on the two soloists, and the last moment left was the voice of the choir, vicariously standing in for all of us who yearn for His return, proclaiming in one voice:
“Glory.”
The verdict: TESTIFYING!!! (add more exclamation points as needed)
But that’s just my take, what’s yours? Leave it in the comments.
Note:
*Yes, I realize the irony of borrowing a French expression in an article about cultural appropriation. Welcome to America.
** In this case, “quasi-scientific” is a euphemism for “not at all scientific.”
by Jelani Greenidge, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Feb 11, 2015 | Entertainment, Jelani Greenidge |
Signifying… it’s one of the many terms that people have used for the historically black pastime of tossing playful insults back and forth, also known across generations as “cappin’,” “playin’ the dozens,” “stingin’,” et cetera. And testifying…well, if you’ve been to a black church, you know what testifying is. And chances are, that testifyin’ happened while a black church choir was present, swaying, clapping, and generally responding to the call flowing forth from the preacher or soloist.
This is probably how Beyoncé, John Legend, Katy Perry, Sam Smith, Madonna, Mary J. Blige, and Pharrell first learned it. Because if you were a musician blessed with enough good fortune to perform at the 2015 GRAMMY Awards, chances are, you probably had a black choir or vocal ensemble back you up. (Notice I didn’t say gospel choir…it may be semantics but I reserve the word gospel for actual gospel music.)
Not that this is a recent phenomenon. Pop artists have adorned their live sets with choirs for years. It can amp up the dramatic element, and makes for a great visual. However, anytime entertainment reaches this level of influence and scale, the politics of identity are unavoidable. In particular, artists – especially white artists – tend to open themselves up to the charge of cultural appropriation when using black choirs as backup singers. More often than not, the appearance of a choir endows the music with a sense of spirituality, even when the lyrics are less-than-spiritual in nature.
And yet, cultural appropriation is never just a black-and-white matter. Plenty of white, popular artists have no problem takin’ it to church, and some black artists do it and end up looking less-than-stellar. For a variety of reasons, some choir appearances work better than others. And in this GRAMMY celebration, it seemed like there was an undercurrent of spirituality, even stronger than in recent years. Even songs like “By the Grace of God” and “Take Me to Church,” while not having choirs per se, still carried an air of churchiness not usually seen on this stage.
So in order to make some sense of things, I took all the Grammy musical performances that involved choirs or had significant Christian imagery, and rated them for the following characteristics:
-Artistic style points: How does the choir enhance or detract from the overall experience?
-Social buzz: Did it look like a stunt to get attention, or was it a naturally buzzworthy performance?
-The faith factor: Does the song sound like an authentic expression of faith?
-Special circumstances: Is there anything else that elevates or detracts? Is there a certain je ne sais quoi about the musical performance?*
From this thoroughly biased, quasi-scientific process,** each song was given an appropriation index, and a final verdict. Is the choir appearance in this song one that testifies to the goodness of God, or is it signifyin’ – playfully insulting the faithful with irreligious or profane imagery?
Let’s go to the tape!
Katy Perry, “By the Grace of God”
Appropriation Index: 7.5
Not gonna lie, this song surprised me. I was only familiar with a few selections from the Katy Perry catalog, so I expected either something really saccharine and overwrought (like pretty much anything by Celine Dion) or something really cold and distant (like Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”). Instead, what I heard felt, at first listen, like an instant classic, a song worthy of the main stage. As I listened, I couldn’t help comparing it to Carrie Underwood’s “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” especially because of the way it was staged. The white dress and the white backdrop with the interpretive dance behind, it all seemed very classy and polished, like the kind of production you might’ve seen from CeCe Winans in the late 90s. Though there was no choir, there were some really sweet background vocals toward the end, like maybe Katy Perry’s road manager hired a couple of the ladies from either Virtue or En Vogue, but just for one song.
Although I figured it didn’t have an explicitly gospel message, I knew it was preceded by an important message from President Obama about domestic violence, so I was ready to receive Katy Perry’s uplifting message about escaping — wait, what? The last line of the refrain begins, “so I decided to stay”??? Is this a song about leaving an abusive relationship, or staying in an abusive relationship? Does she move out of the apartment but still stay in the neighborhood? I’m so confused.
As someone who has never dealt with domestic violence, I don’t feel especially qualified to assess the moral validity of a domestic violence anthem. That said, if the emotional climax of a song about domestic abuse leaves open the question of whether such abuse should continue, that seems pretty unsatisfying. And if you prefer the sunnier interpretation, that it’s just about difficulty in a long-term relationship, then why precede it with stern words from No. 44?
I’ve since listened to the song three times in a row, and while I love that grace is at the center of it, the overall meaning of the song still feels unclear. It seems less like Katy Perry is embracing the mystery and ambiguity inherent in the pursuit of authentic Christian faith, and more like she tried to write a song that people on both sides of the issue would like. That feels dishonest, lame, and sadly, it’s exactly what I would expect from an artist of her caliber – a shame, because the song really does sound beautiful.
The verdict: SIGNIFYIN’ (barely)
Sam Smith featuring Mary J. Blige, “Stay With Me”
Appropriation Index: 4
A quick word about the Appropriation Index – the higher the number, the more appropriation has taken place, which in my view, is hardly appropriate (how ironic). And again, because I was unfamiliar with Sam Smith, I did not know what to expect. And like the Katy Perry tune, I was pleasantly surprised.
I was also surprised when I read the lyrics, because I had no idea what the song was really about until it was almost over. I don’t know how I missed it – the very first line refers to a one-night stand. I guess I was won over by the simplicity of the chorus, which was carried by Smith first, then by Mary J. Blige, and finally a very stately sounding choir. Soulful, but not too far out there.
The choir helped it to pass one of my appropriation tests – could you sing it in church with a straight face? If I didn’t know this was a Sam Smith song, and someone made a few tactful edits to the verse, I’d say yes, absolutely, and put it in the same corner of gospel-influenced hits as Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is.” You could easily pair this song with a reading from Psalm 51, and it would be powerful.
And honestly, now that I know that it’s about the self-loathing sense of desperation after a tryst, it feels even more honest and resonant. Because who among us can call out to God for help from a place of complete blamelessness?
But I could’ve done without quite so many goo-goo eyes between Sam and Mary J.
The verdict: TESTIFYIN’
Hozier featuring Annie Lenox, “Take Me to Church”
Appropriation Index: 8
This was a hard one to review, because I really like Annie Lennox (I use Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams” as a go-to karaoke jam) but I’d never heard of Hozier and all I knew about the song beforehand was the title.
Speaking of which, let’s talk about this title. Now, I realize that white people go to church. But white people, by and large, do not take it to church, musically speaking. No judge on American Idol is ever going to remark to a soloist, “boy, you really took us to church… I mean, a typical Midwest Lutheran church, that is. Your performance was perfunctory and unemotional.” Like, people don’t do that.
So between the combination of all the tweets and Facebook statuses I saw about how Annie Lennox “killed it,” “shut it down,” etc, and the title of the song, I was ready for some good ol’ fashioned chuuch.
And then I actually listened to the song.
Ummm… no.
In “Take Me to Church,” Hozier does what plenty of others have done before him in order to get a rise from the audience, he uses sacred words and imagery to paint a very dark picture. Even if you ignore the original video depicting a same-sex relationship (odd since the lyrics are written by a man about a woman), the lyrics are pretty antagonistic toward faith in general:
Take me to church / I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death / Good God, let me give you my life
This song is like the sonic equivalent of Andres Serrano’s urine-soaked crucifix. It’s bold, provocative, and to most Christians, patently offensive. I personally wasn’t offended, but I was disappointed. Not that God couldn’t use it, of course… He can use anything. This particular bluesy-rock medley was long on emotion, for sure, but short on anything that resembled spiritual truth.
Though it does explain why Annie Lennox, in her cameo appearance, segued into “I Put A Spell On You.” If you’re gonna do the anti-Christian thing, you might as well go all out.
The verdict: SIGNIFYIN’
Madonna, “Living for Love”
Appropriation Index: 9.5
The appropriation index is probably a little high for just this song, but you have to take the context into the matter. Madonna has made a career out of flouting the rules of the religious establishment. She took her stage name from the virginal mother of God, and her first hit was about how sex with her new boyfriend makes her feel “Like A Virgin.”
So it’s not like I didn’t know what to expect. And by her standards this was maybe even a little restrained, but that’s only because there was no cameo appearance of Dennis Rodman making out with Kim Jong-un. As it was, her major visual accompaniment was a fleet of glistening, masked topless men with bull horns affixed to their heads, leaping and undulating to the rhythm. Some people thought it looked satanic, I just thought it was rather bizarre.
As for the song itself, I actually liked it, somewhat. It was a bouncy anthem, fun and fresh feeling, much like, “Like A Prayer.” The choir came out at the end, clad in bright red robes, clapping and swaying. Thankfully by that point, Madonna was done with her more salacious pelvic thrusts, but still, the disconnect between how much they were wearing and and how little she was wearing was still a little jarring.
Also, I did find it odd that the song is called “Living for Love” when the lyrics make it clear it’s actually a break-up song. The overall message of the song appears to be, I’m living for love, and since I’m not getting enough from you, I’m outta here. But you wouldn’t know that from the chorus or the vamp, which consists mostly of the phrases “I’m living for love” and “I’m not giving up.”
It’s as if the two parts of the song were written by two people in separate rooms who couldn’t communicate until after the song was over.
“I can’t do this anymore!”
“What?! I thought we weren’t giving up?!”
The verdict: SIGNIFYIN’ (like a mug)
But that’s just my take, what’s yours? Leave it in the comments, and be sure to come back tomorrow for part two where I will take on Pharrell’s “Happy,” Beyonce’s “Take My Hand, Precious Lord,” and John Legend & Common’s “Glory.”
Notes:
*Yes, I realize the irony of borrowing a French expression in an article about cultural appropriation. Welcome to America.
** In this case, “quasi-scientific” is a euphemism for “not at all scientific.”
by Jelani Greenidge, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Jan 7, 2015 | Headline News, Jelani Greenidge |
Urban Faith’s Jelani Greenidge sat down for a wide-ranging phone conversation with Eugene Cho, founder of One Day’s Wages, pastor of Quest Church in Seattle, and the recent author of “OVERRATED: Are We More In Love With the Idea of Changing the World Than Actually Changing the World.” In the first half of the conversation, they talked about tunnel vision and the value of hard work.
This interview was edited for length and clarity.
In one of the chapters you talked a lot about having more depth than 140 characters and being an expert… I wonder if you could speak to this idea of specialization. In the evangelical church, a lot of our ministries have become specialized to the point where we have youth pastors, pastors of young adult ministries, pastors for every grade level in children’s ministry, pastors for seniors… I don’t necessarily think all that is bad, but where do you draw the line between being specialized and being well rounded enough to have an overall kingdom mindset that ministry is ministry?
EC: Well, I kind of feel like you just answered the question for me. Ultimately, we have to have kingdom mindedness about anything and everything, we can’t allow our particular specialties to hijack us to the point where it becomes the only banner that we wave. Even good things that we’re called to, if we’re not careful, if it’s not a response to the gospel, it can become idolatrous. This question is an important critique to our culture. We can become so specialized that our worldviews in ministry can become compartmentalized. I tell my pastors at our church, despite the fact that they have certain titles and adjectives that describe what they’re doing, the most important word is “pastor” – they are there to pastor the church, you’re not just a compassion-and-justice pastor, you’re not just a music pastor. You’re called and given the burden and privilege to care and teach and lead. And I share that with all of our staff.
But having said that, I do think that there’s a balance. We understand the bigger picture or narrative, but if you’re called to something and feel convicted about it, we owe it to ourselves and to the Holy Spirit convicting us to get more substantive and deep and committed so that we’re able, in that season of our life. I was a youth pastor, and way back then, that’s what I was called to, to go deep into those friendships and relationships in my pastoring and my caring, in addition to things that would help me contextualize the way I do leadership.
Also, I think about urban ministry, and we don’t want to absolutely segregate everything, but I think it’s absolutely true that there are certain dynamics that are different in an urban context versus a suburban context. So for a suburbanite to say, “hey, I feel called to urban ministry,” but to take no time to invest in friendships and relationships and being in situations where they could be mentored and listened to and read books… for that person NOT to do those things, it’s insulting to the work. So that’s what I mean, I think there is a balance. I think sometimes we can become enamored by an idea and not end up doing the hard work, digging into whatever conviction that might be.
JG: I noticed in a CT cover story that you’re featured in, you mention that at Quest Church, you emphasize race and ethnicity as an important part of identity and how it relates to the gospel. When you talk to people outside of your community, do you find that they’re surprised that you have such a focus on race?
EC: It depends on who I’m speaking to. You and I both know that the conversation about race and racism or racialization, depending on who we’re speaking to, can be a very, very different conversation.
JG (laughing) Uh, yeah.
EC: I think there are those, because of social media and being sort of a mini public figure, I hear from people who are disturbed, they say there’s only one race, the human race, and we shouldn’t be talking about race or racism. And then there are those on the other side, there are those who are encouraged by it, and surprised that there are evangelical churches out there that are willing to engage this issue. There are those who are surprised that a multiethnic church is being led by an Asian-American. And I’m someone who finds a lot of joy in knowing that this is who God created me to be, and I’m not afraid or timid to talk about my ethnic heritage and my experiences as an immigrant as I minister in my church.
But… there are two extremes that I try to address, that concern me.
One extreme is those who say that issues of race have nothing to do with the gospel. That’s a huge concern for me. I explain to people that we don’t talk about race and racism for the sake of talking about it. I mean, I don’t enjoy talking about it, I’m not a sociologist, they’re intense, and they can be difficult. For me, I’m compelled by the gospel. The gospel informs and transforms everything we do. It’s that huge. I don’t ever want Quest Church to be known or hijacked by any issue – even if it’s important, even if it’s true – I don’t want anything to supersede the “why” of gospel. The gospel is so magnanimous, it’s so beautiful, it’s not this one-dimensional thing where you just get to get into heaven. Talking about race gives us the opportunity to illuminate the depth, the breadth, the absolutely scandalous nature of the gospel, and why Jesus Christ came, not just merely for a foundation but for the whole process of reconciliation.
The other extreme that I’m concerned about concerning racism… and this is a very sensitive issue, I know a lot of people push back at me, even at my church… when you talk about Ferguson, when you talk about Trayvon Martin, as complex as those issues are, it’s important for us to call upon our larger society and culture for justice, it’s a critical part of the entire process. There are some people who clamor too easily toward reconciliation without understanding the important necessity of justice. But I would also caution people — even though that’s absolutely true, the opposite is also as true. As we rightfully clamor for justice, that we should always have reconciliation in mind as well. Both of those are really essential, and we should never highlight one over the other.
JG: You talked earlier about the value of hard work, and you know as a pastor that people in ministry always have to work hard to ensure we have good boundaries, so that we’re living well balanced lives. So I ask you what I ask a lot of people in ministry – what do you do for fun? How are you checking off your “fun” box?
EC: Well, I’m a big sports fan. I love playing and watching sports, both of those are challenging, since we cut the cable, we don’t have a TV at home.
JG: Oh, wow.
EC: Yeah, and I ruptured my Achilles tendon playing basketball 6 or 7 years ago, so I’m not able to execute my slashing, penetrating game, or talk trash like I used to – well, I still talk trash.
JG: (laughing) You just can’t back it up anymore.
EC: Those things are important to me, I love the outdoors, which is why I love living in Seattle. I love hiking, fishing is a very life-giving aspect of my life. Every year, I take two weeks off to go fishing ten hours a day in the Midwest, and I love fishing for salmon here.
The older I get, the more I realize how important friendships and relationships are. I can just come out and say it in public – I’m a recovering workaholic, pretty much my whole life. Some years ago, I learned, it’s best not to hide it but just to name it and be mindful of it. My wife, who happens to be a therapist, figured that out a long time ago. So I take a sabbatical every three years. I mean, I used to actually feel guilty about resting. And now I see it as an important part of how God designed not just me, but actually all of humanity. The Sabbath is a really critical thing for me to embrace so that I can remember that it’s not about me and that things don’t revolve around me. It’s not fancy or glamorous, but it’s me.
JG: Okay, you ready for the speed round?
EC: Yeah, let’s go.
JG: Okay, we’re gonna play “Overrated, Underrated or Properly Rated?” Here we go.
EC: Okay.
JG: “The Lego Movie.” Overrated, underrated, or properly rated?
EC: Haven’t seen it.
JG: The Ice Bucket Challenge.
EC: Properly rated.
JG: iPhone 6.
EC: Overrated.
JG: Xbox One.
EC: Overrated.
JG: Aunt Viv from Fresh Prince, or Claire Huxtable from The Cosby Show?
EC: Gotta go with The Fresh Prince.
JG: Biggest guilty pleasure, junk food or junk television?
EC: Man, I’d go with junk food.
JG: I guess not having the TV helps there. Favorite kind of vacation spot, beaches, mountains, or somewhere else?
EC: Beaches, for sure.
JG: If you had to pick only one sport to follow for the rest of your life, between NBA, NFL or MLB… what is it?
EC: Oh wow… that’s tough. I would have to go NBA.
JG: Yes! (laughing) That is correct. Nice job with the speed round.
Okay, final question… if there were to be a new Blue Thunder in a few years… (the baby blue Miata referred to in the book that he needed to sell)… what kind of car would it be?
EC: Oh, man… this is not good… wow… umm…
JG: Do you need to plead the Fifth?
EC: No, I’ll answer the question… I guess, actually, it probably wouldn’t be a Blue Thunder, it would probably end up being an RV.
JG: Really?
EC: Yeah, maybe it’s the post-midlife crisis I’m going through, but yeah, just coasting around in a nice RV with my wife… just thinking about having as much time with my kids, in seven years, my youngest will be off to college, so that’s probably the best move.
Eugene Cho’s first book OVERRATED is published by David C. Cook, and is available at both internet and brick-and-mortar retailers nationwide.
by Jelani Greenidge, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Jan 5, 2015 | Headline News, Jelani Greenidge |
Eugene Cho, pastor of Seattle’s Quest Church
In September 2014, the publishing debut from Seattle pastor and global hunger activist Eugene Cho was released under the title “OVERRATED: Are We More In Love With the Idea of Changing the World Than Actually Changing the World?” The book, published by David C. Cook, and featuring a foreword by Donald Miller and glowing pull-quote reviews from the evangelical A-list (Christena Cleveland, Louie Giglio, Sarah Bessey, Derwin L. Gray, etc.) attracted the attention of Urban Faith’s Jelani Greenidge, who devoured his promotional copy and eventually sat down for a telephone conversation with the author.
This interview was edited for length and clarity.
JG: So got the book and I burned through it immediately. I really appreciated how personal it was, and I thought it was very timely. Why did you need to write this book now?
EC: I’ve been invited to write a book for awhile now, and when I was first given the invitation, probably around ten years ago, my head got so big that I knew it wasn’t the right time, and I honestly just needed to examine myself and realize that I just didn’t have enough substance to share. But I have been itching, over the last few years, wanting to articulate some of the sense that I’ve been feeling about my own life and about what I’ve been witnessing in the larger culture, including the church.
When people ask me, “what’s the premise of the book,” I tell them it’s a confession, and I try to keep that tone. So really I just needed to write it, foremost, for myself, I needed to share some of what I’ve been wrestling with for the past ten years or so. And as I’ve been sharing these confessions, at times through sermons, or in conversations with people, formally or informally, on and off the record, I was surprised by how many people resonated with confession. A lot of people were, A) wanting to do good things and change the world, but B) confessing that they were more in love with the idea of it.
Because issues of justice and mercy and generosity have become that much more accepted and celebrated throughout the church – which is good, I’d rather that be celebrated than anything else —
JG: Right…
EC: But the question of “how we do those things?” became important enough to address in this book, in the hopes that people could be deepened and equipped for the long haul.
JG: One of the things that surprised me about the book is how funny it is. It’s not a funny topic per se, but I was struck by your candor and your honesty. You talked about it being a confession, I do some stand-up comedy, and stand-up is a very confessional form. Did you have to work hard to find the humor in it, or is it just something that comes naturally?
EC: I am an extreme introvert, but I’ve always enjoyed humor, both listening to it, but also using it as a coping mechanism, And I mean, I don’t wanna get all psychological here, but for me, it helps me to deal with my insecurities. The older and more established I get, I keep expecting that at some point I would overcome my insecurity, but I haven’t. It’s still there, and I still wrestle with it. And I also think it helps people – especially self-deprecating humor – helps people to empathize. So that’s encouraging, I was trying to capture my true voice with the book. I can be serious and pastoral, but I also try to be comical sometimes.
JG: It definitely comes through, for sure. One of the other things I appreciated about the book — and I can’t remember which chapter you talked about this — is the way you talked about the legacy of your parents and the value of hard work and how they modeled that. I know some of that is a part of your ethnic and cultural identity, but how do you find a balance between being committed and willing to hard for what you’re trying to accomplish, but not being so single-minded and having so much tunnel-vision that you burn out?
EC: You’re referencing the chapter on “Tenacity.”
JG: Yes… right! I’m actually staring at the table of contents right now, and I was scanning the page for the words “hard work.” Sorry about that.
EC: Yeah, no, it’s fine. I’m with you.
And yeah, I’ve been deeply informed by my parents and their work ethic, their tenacity. And I’ve been informed by my experience as an immigrant, as an “other,” and feeling like I really had to persevere and be tenacious throughout a variety of circumstances. And just like anything else, you have to assess both the positives of that situation, as well as the downside of being so singularly focused that you create burnout. I think for me a couple of things come to mind… everything needs to be tempered by the question of why we do what we do, and where our identity comes from.
Even hard work, in and of itself, can become idolatrous, I see it from a lot of people with immigrant backgrounds, they react that way to certain experiences that they had, growing up, and it becomes a source of pain in their life. So for example, my parents never vacationed. It was never a part of their vocabulary. Even when they were sick. So I look at that, and while a part of it is admirable, it can also be dangerous, sometimes even ungodly or unbiblical. And it’s not sustainable for the marathon of ministry.
So when I say I’ve been impacted by the tenacity of my parents, I saw both examples of what to do, and what not to do. I suspect that my kids, when they look back at my life – and my oldest just turned sixteen – they’ll do something similar, see things that they’ll want to mimic, but also things that they want to do differently.
And also I just think it’s important to stay connected to the larger narrative of what it means to be in the marathon of discipleship. When you go back to the question of why (to work for justice), well the fact that I’m a follower of Jesus, the fact that through the scripture, God gives us some instructions on what it means to be grounded in prayer, and Sabbath, and sabbatical – I just came back from a three month sabbatical — I did that because I know my propensity to go hard and fast, and I don’t want to do that. It’s not fair to me, or my wife, my kids, or my church.
Over the years, I’ve found myself more attracted to brothers in the faith that are older, in their latter seasons of life, in their 70s, 80s, and 90s. I’ve had some opportunities to spend time with Dr. John Perkins, and what amazes me about him is not just what he’s accomplished, but that he’s still serving Jesus and he still has joy in his heart. That’s stunning to me, because the more I live and the more I do “God’s work,” the more I feel prone and susceptible to cynicism, and I don’t want to be about those things.
JG: Yeah, I mean any time you can spend hanging with John Perkins, good things are going to happen.
Stay tuned for part two of our conversation, where we discuss the role of racial awareness in justice work and the importance of rest and Sabbath. See the lighter side of Pastor Eugene Cho in our next installment.
by Jelani Greenidge, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Dec 22, 2014 | Headline News, Jelani Greenidge |
Just like “Christian music,” the terminology regarding faith-based cinema is often problematic. Strictly speaking, there’s no such thing as a “Christian” movie because movies, though often remarkable pieces of art full of symbolism, commentary and meaning, are not sentient beings. Even the animated ones are, strictly speaking, still things, inanimate objects lacking eternal souls, incapable of feeling emotions or making decisions. In this sense, calling a movie Christian because of one high-profile Christian involved (Kirk Cameron) would be as silly as calling an LA Lakers basketball game Christian because of the involvement of Jeremy Lin.
And yet, most people make implicit moral judgments about the quality of films based on the involvement of certain high-profile Christian people or the approval of certain organizational gatekeepers (pastors, Christian writers, parent advocacy organizations, et cetera). The term “Christian movie” is a pragmatic piece of shorthand for, “feature film either presented by or aimed toward Christian people.” This could serve as a definition, except for the fact that filmmaking is an inherently collaborative endeavor, which – as can be seen in any final credits sequence – often requires the work of hundreds or even thousands of people, spread across a duration of weeks, months, or in some cases, many many years.
And yet, this does not stop people from talking about movies as Christian, often because the presence of some nebulous form of “Christian message,” which in some cases (Fireproof, The Passion of The Christ) is quite explicit and easily understood, and in other cases (Bruce Almighty, The Preacher’s Wife) is a little less clear or explicitly Biblical. This is an improvement, but still problematic, because even if you ignore the difficulty and ambiguity inherent in trying to verify the Christian identity of all the principal creative roles in the filmmaking process (the film’s producers, directors, screenwriters, stars, etc.) and just focus on the relative “Christian”-ness of the message, sometimes the layers of meaning and messages in films can be messy to unpack.
Consider this list of films from the last decade, each of which are notable for one of the following: being a vehicle for a high-profile person of faith, having a faith-based message, having source material that’s sourced from or thematically related to the Bible, or having a very specific outreach strategy involving churches or church leaders:
Heaven Is For Real (2014)
The Book of Eli (2010)
God’s Not Dead (2014)
Believe Me (2014)
Jumping the Broom (2011)
The Single Moms Club (2014)
The Second Chance (2006)
Son of God (2014)
The Gospel (2005)
Black Nativity (2013)
Saved! (2004)
Blue Like Jazz (2012)
Courageous (2011)
I’m In Love With A Church Girl (2013)
Noah (2014)
Machine Gun Preacher (2011)
Bella (2006)
The Grace Card (2011)
There is a stunning amount of stylistic and thematic diversity in that list of films, diversity that hasn’t been around in decades past. There are films that portray Biblical characters with a faithful, orthodox interpretation, communicating an explicitly Christian message (Son of God, The Passion of the Christ). There are films that portray an explicitly faith-based story where the primary storyline revolves around someone beginning or affirming a faith commitment (God’s Not Dead, I’m In Love with a Church Girl).
Then there are films that portray a family-friendly story where Christian faith is a ancillary part of the plot, but not a primary dramatic element (Courageous, Bella). Also there are films that portray a generally redemptive story that is consistent with certain aspects of a Christian worldview, but that contain thought-provoking conundrums or messy, thorny issues for the viewer to grapple with (Blue Like Jazz, Believe Me).
There are films partially created or produced by people with very public faith profiles, like TD Jakes’ involvement with Jumping the Broom and Steve Taylor with Blue Like Jazz. There are films that take a hard look at Christian ministry, both domestically (The Gospel, The Second Chance) and internationally (Machine Gun Preacher).
And then there are films that deal with faith or Biblical themes but are created by people who are not of faith, like Darren Aronofsky’s recent Noah, or the Michael Stipe’s satirical takedown of evangelicalism, Saved! Also, plenty of TV comedies take a swipe at Christianity, like “South Park,” “The Daily Show,” or more recently, “Key & Peele.”
(And don’t even get me started on Aaron McGruder’s “Black Jesus.”)
My point in all of this is that good art requires the examination of faith issues from a variety of perspectives and voices. Yet for many audience members, the only way a film can be “Christian” is if there is a major altar-call type scene with a dramatic conversion. If the movie isn’t an overt endorsement not only of faith itself but Judeo-Christian morality and/or Protestant culture, then it’s not “Christian.”
This is the chasm that prevents Christians from being taken more seriously in the industry. It’s not necessarily the people of faith who are doing their best to create good work within the confines of both their moral compasses and professional opportunities, but the fans, the people whose distorted, low expectations artificially deflate the market for good art that interfaces with issues of faith.
Chris Rock said recently that the true test of racial equality in America will be when black folks will have the freedom to make mediocre or terrible films and still be able to continue to work and improve as filmmakers. I think a similar dynamic is true for Christians, but in reverse. For Christians to be more fully accepted in Hollywood, audiences will have to stop flocking to bad films just because they’re marketed to Christians (like Nic Cage’s Left Behind remake), demolish the Christian subculture bubble that exists for film in the same way it used to for music, and be free to evaluate each film on its own merit.
There are three films coming out soon which should be attractive to audiences of faith, and they are all intriguing to me for different reasons. Do You Believe, which I covered for a press event in a separate piece, The Same Kind of Different As Me, an unexpected tale of faith and friendship featuring Djimon Hounsou, Renee Zellweger, Greg Kinnear, and producer Devon Franklin’s remake of Annie, which will be out during the 2014 holiday season.
I hope these films are good examples of crowd-pleasing entertainment and thought-provoking art. But more than that, I hope that people of faith will see them, and in doing so, redefine their expectations around what films good Christian people should see.
In my opinion, good Christians should see good films… however “good” is defined. As Christians, both embedded in our own subculture but also in the midst of a broader American popular culture, we’re clearly not there yet… but we’re a lot closer than we’ve ever been.
