I’m a Coke drinker. I always have been, and I always will
be. Growing up in Atlanta, this preference comes naturally. In fact, when Andy
and I bought our first house, we used some Coke stock that had been given to me
as part of our down payment. Occasionally, I’ll order Coke in a restaurant and
the server will bring me Pepsi. The server looks at me with a “what difference
does it make?” look as she removes the offending drink. After all, they are both
brownish, sugary, cola soft drinks. Diehard fans of either Coke and Pepsi know
that there is a tremendous difference between the two drinks.
This is why I’m usually very slow to read popular Christian literature
or watch popular Christian films. (Bear with me here.) There are so many
different flavors of Christianity, and often the popular things are from the
Pepsi branch of our faith family. Just because it’s labelled “Christian” doesn’t
mean that it reflects how I experience Christianity. There have been the
occasional happy surprises, such as “The Shack.” And there have been the things
that have made me embarrassed to share the name “Christian,” either because of
the quality or the theology of the work.
I went to see “God’s Not Dead” with some trepidation, after
being asked about it by some folks at church. By the time the movie was over, I
was a huddled, cringing mess. As I walked out, the theatre worker looked at me
and asked if I was okay. I appreciate that he was truly caring, concerned that
I might be in some spiritual crisis. Perhaps I was, because I’m still having flashbacks
to that movie today. I’ll share a few
thoughts for the record, and I’ll try to keep some balance, because I know this
movie has spoken to some people.
1.
The music is good.
2.
If any of my children ever were to have a professor
force them to sign a statement that says “God is dead,” please report them to
the academic dean asap. (The same goes if
a professor forces the entire class to sign a statement that says “Jesus Christ
is my Savior.”) Likewise if said professor corners them in an elevator, or
collars them in a hallway, and whispers angry threats, go to the dean right
away and file a complaint. The threats and intimidation that are shown in this
movie are not acceptable on any campus, and there are policies in place to
prevent it. Why did the filmmakers feel the need to manufacture this sense of
persecution?
3.
Loved the music, although it was one long
commercial for Newsboys, beginning with the opening scene when the protagonist
is wearing a Newsboys t-shirt and ending with the climactic scene outside of a
Newsboys concert.
4.
The only real-life evangelist that was named in
this movie was Franklin Graham. Franklin is in today’s newspaper for his comments
praising Putin for his strong anti-homosexuality position, and he has made other
attention-grabbing political statements in the past. (As I’ve said before, in
my opinion Franklin is not the man his daddy is.) There are other folks out there who preach
the Gospel boldly without overt politicizing, by the way.
5.
I’m still humming the music.
6.
The non-Christians were portrayed as so achingly
bad, and the Christians were so achingly good. It would be nice if the world
were divided as neatly and cleanly into Bad Guys and Good Guys, but we’re all
mostly a mix of good and bad. It seems to me that the main difference is that we
Christians know that we’re a bunch of sinners saved by grace through faith.
7.
There was music by Superchick, and my daughters
loved them when they were young.
8.
The final scene?
(Spoiler alert.) Couldn’t they have at least put an umbrella over the
dying man’s face as they were bringing him to Jesus? There were many umbrellas
being held in the watching crowd, did no one have enough compassion to keep the
downpour out of his mouth, nose, and eyes?
Please don’t misunderstand- it was good to see that he knew that Christ
was with him in his final moments, but all I could focus on was Why Couldn’t
Someone Put An Umbrella Over His Face?
9. Did I mention I liked the music?
Perhaps the power of this movie is that it gets the
conversation going and allows people to think about how far they are willing to
go for their faith. For us Christians blessed to live in the US, the greatest
challenges to our faith do not come from apocryphal professors demanding that
we renounce our faith. No, my reality is that I find the greatest challenges to
my Christianity occur in multitudes of mundane ways. Am I willing to wait patiently
as the driver in front of me drives well below the speed limit? Will I cede my
place in the checkout line to the impatient line jumper? Will I greet the
stranger at church seeking financial assistance with genuine love or surly
suspicion? Will I take the time to listen to someone who needs to talk? Will I
fret about the daily trivialities rather than jump joyously into God’s design
for the day? Give me a ridiculously
over-the-top atheist professor any day; I’ll be glad to argue my point from the
safety of a lectern for hours. It is the
day-to-day living that I fail to prove my faith all too often.
These daily challenges will not make great cinema, but they are
much more real than anything I’ve seen in the theatres lately.
