Check Out This Song!

This isn’t the post I was intending to write today. In fact, this won’t be a full post at all. It’s really just a pre-post. (Talk about an oxymoron.)

So here’s the scoop: I began writing an article about one small idea (my tendency toward perfectionism), but it grew into a much bigger idea, its roots spreading obtrusively into topics and implications that I didn’t intend. But the spreading was good because it revealed some parts of my heart that had been hiding from the light.

Sorry, I don’t mean to be cryptic. I promise to be as forthcoming as possible once I’ve had more time to organize my thoughts in the coming week. But by way of a teaser trailer, I’d like to leave you today with a beautiful song that has been immensely helpful as I consider the topic of perfectionism. It’s called “It Is Finished,” or “Nothing Either Great or Small,” and it was written by James Proctor in 1864. I’ll post his original lyrics for you to read, and I’ll also add a link to a beautiful rendition performed by a church worship team called You Me & The Bread. I hope you’ll join me in meditating on its beautiful truths!

So for now, I leave you with a song and a promise to share much more next time.

“It Is Finished”

Nothing, either great or small—
Nothing, sinner, no;
Jesus died and paid it all,
Long, long ago.

Refrain
“It is finished!” yes, indeed,
Finished, ev’ry jot;
Sinner, this is all you need,
Tell me, is it not?

When He, from His lofty throne,
Stooped to do and die,
Ev’rything was fully done;
Hearken to His cry!
Refrain

Weary, working, burdened one,
Wherefore toil you so?
Cease your doing; all was done
Long, long ago.
Refrain

Till to Jesus’ work you cling
By a simple faith,
“Doing” is a deadly thing—
“Doing” ends in death.
Refrain

Cast your deadly “doing” down—
Down at Jesus’ feet;
Stand in Him, in Him alone,
Gloriously complete.
Refrain

Better Than Knowledge

Knowledge is good.

Knowledge has brought us Aristotle, Da Vinci, Shakespeare, and Bill Watterson. It’s given us modern medicine, a better understanding of outer space, the ability to talk with loved ones from across the country, a vast system of information at the click of a button, and a plethora of ways to make a great cup of coffee. Knowledge lets us relate to friends, understand coworkers, and help those in need. Knowledge is a tasty carrot at the end of the college string. It’s a formidable ally in the fight against foolishness. It’s a floodlight to expose hidden injustice.

So knowledge is good.

But knowledge without love is nothing.

Knowledge without love yields boasting, gossip, blackmail, manipulation, corruption in the political scene, weapons of mass destruction, and talk radio. Knowledge without love makes us brains without hearts, tongues without bridles, bulldozers without steering. Knowledge without love creates debaters, one-uppers, and smug talkers.

Knowledge without love is incomplete, like a child’s understanding of Einstein’s physics. It’s imperfect, like a warped reflection in the carnival’s house of mirrors. And it’s transient, the moon-sliver of knowledge setting when the sun of perfect love shatters the darkness.

But knowledge is good.

Yes, knowledge is good, but love is better.

Love precludes the pernicious parts of knowledge: boasting, arrogance, stubbornness, resentment, crookedness. Instead, love ensures that knowledge is used rightly—to advocate, defend, restrain, imagine, create, extend grace, choose joy, and offer forgiveness. And this is only possible because Love Himself has done it for us. While His knowledge of our hearts is perfect (even the parts we’d die before admitting), His love for us is also perfect. That’s why, with full knowledge of our unworthiness, He died to make us whole.

So knowledge is good.

Yes, knowledge is good, but love is better, and one day love will transform knowledge.

Consider that the first sin was in pursuit of knowledge: the desire to know good and evil. The knowledge that was purported to make us like God estranged us from Him and has brought us little but tragedy ever since—a tragic irony. The knowledge of evil began the curse and keeps it going. You could say that knowledge brought death.

But one day mere knowledge will be obsolete, replaced instead with experience—a postcard snapshot superseded by a Grand Canyon hike. Where we know in part, we will then know in full. Our mind and heart will be united, and any discord between the two will vanish in the presence of God. Compared with the depth of that experience, our most impressive tidbit of knowledge will be passé. Scientific laws, psychological theories, and systematic theology will be kindergarten coloring pages. Love Himself will expel our delusions and our pride like a cellar door thrown wide open to the sunshine.

When we see Him face to face, our partial knowledge will become perfect experience. When we see Him, we will know Him even as we are known. When we see Him, we will be made like Him. Knowledge turned to experience is everlasting life.

Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus.

So knowledge is good. Yes, knowledge is good, but love is better.

Love is best of all.

Disney’s Star Wars: Characters and Effects

Disney’s Star Wars. It just feels wrong to write that.

Anyway, we saw last time that Disney’s Star Wars plots ranged from familiar to fresh, and the themes included self-doubt and moral relativism. But what did you think about the characters and effects of the new movies? I’ll tell you what I thought, starting with the inclusion of your favorite heroes—Luke, Leia, and Han.

CHARACTERS

Casting

Disney hopped on the Star Wars film train with enough time to rope in the Big Three: Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher, and Harrison Ford. But honestly, I felt sorry for Fisher and Ford. Carrie felt the pressure of looking unaged, despite the fact that she was now nearly 60 instead of 19, and if Harrison looked a little extra rugged, it’s because he was 72! Mark, 65 when The Last Jedi was released, seemed to hold up just fine despite the car accident that beat up his face in 1977. Since Return of the Jedi, much of his work in Hollywood has been voice acting or TV show cameos, so I wonder if he, at least, was excited to resume the role of Luke Skywalker.

Regardless, Disney made a smart choice in incorporating these three into their films for one reason: it was sure to draw in the faithful fans of the originals, even if we were begrudging and skeptical about it. But Disney also featured plenty of new actors, most of them previously unknown, and I think that was smart. Had they tried to take, say, Brad Pitt or Anne Hathaway and turn them into Star Wars characters, it would have stretched viewers beyond credulity. New faces gave new fans a chance to get interested in the new Star Wars.

Relatable Motives

As with the originals, all of the characters are on some sort of personal quest amidst the grand scheme of the overall story. In Episodes VII-VIII, we see Finn’s determination to escape the empire, Rey’s hope of discovering her parents, Kylo Ren’s desire to live up to Vader’s legacy, Han and Leia’s attempt at salvaging their son, and Luke’s efforts to avoid responsibility. Overarching these quests is the greater plot: find the map, blow up the planet killer, enlist Luke’s help, avoid the First Order, and stay alive. All the sub-plots and personal journeys keep the story moving even if the “Death Star III” storyline is a bit hackneyed.

Rogue One and Solo depict selfish and two-faced villains as well as jaded and reluctant heroes—a fact we discussed last time. In Rogue One Cassian and his friends wanted to justify their gritty work for the Rebellion, and Jyn Erso wanted to clear her father’s name. I found their lack of enthusiasm believable, although they both end up caring about the greater cause eventually. In Solo, a much more lighthearted film, we see Han Solo’s backstory. He is betrayed again and again, but surprisingly he doesn’t seem very fazed by it. If they wanted to show how Han became the mercenary we see in A New Hope, I feel like they missed the mark. He was still hopeful, helpful, and almost altruistic at the end of Solo. Maybe they’re saving the story of his selfishness for the next film, Solo and Jaba: An Unlikely Friendship. (That’s a joke. I hope.)

Clear and Confusing Motives

I think the most important aspect of character motivation in Solo is at the very end when Han and Beckett are at a face-off. At last, we are given a definitive answer to the question, “Who shot first?” Han did. Han shot first. But you already knew that, didn’t you?

However, of all the motivations in these newer films, I think I’m most confused by Snoke and Kylo’s idolization of Darth Vader. I mean, sure, he was good at being bad for almost three movies, but in the end, the guy was a sellout! He killed his master (a classic Sith move) in order to destroy the Empire and aid the Rebellion (not a classic Sith move). If Snoke wanted Kylo Ren to channel his inner Vader, I guess he got what he asked for. He should have pushed him to be more like Darth Sidious. At least that dude was bad to the bone.

And, as a side note, I’m also confused about Disney’s motives in including so much more cursing in these movies. I mean, I don’t enjoy that in movies at all, much less in movies touted to be child-friendly. But even from the standpoint of universe coherence, it doesn’t make sense for them to be using Earth-based curse words. While the six original films included a few cuss words here and there, they relied more on in-universe curses like “Nerf herder,” “Bantha fodder” or “Bantha poodoo.” That communicates the same thing without breaking the story’s spell and jarring the viewers out of their temporary belief in a galaxy far, far away.

TECHNICAL STUFF

Visual Effects

As I mentioned before, there was never any doubt that Disney would make some beautiful movies. After all, Amazon owns one half of the world, and Disney owns the other half; therefore, Mickey and his cohorts should be able to pull off some stunning effects. And they didn’t disappoint: the drifting snow and falling sparks during Rey and Kylo’s duels, the ancient Jedi island, the light speed destruction of the First Order’s ship, and the red salt planet are just a few examples of visually captivating scenes. Lucas started the movies the right way by choosing vastly different settings for each film, and Disney has followed in his footsteps.

Lucas also began by using loads of puppets, masks, and costumes to create his creatures, but he ended by using CGI for several of them, including Yoda. Many fans (including yours truly) preferred the “real” Yoda to the more high-tech one, so the director of The Last Jedi created a copy of the original puppet. Sadly, Yoda still looked weird to me, but it was a nice gesture. I did love all the physical costuming in Maz Kanata’s castle because they looked as real and grubby as the cantina in Mos Eisley. In my opinion, the CG General Tarkin also looked fantastic (at least on lower-resolution theater screens), but the young Princess Leia was all wrong. She scared me. But all in all, Disney’s visual effects were impressive.

Musical Scores

You know I’ve had lots (possibly too much) to say about John Williams’ work for Episodes I-VI, but I don’t have nearly as much to say about the newer scores. In fact, you could have told me that any other composer wrote the scores for Episodes VII-VIII, and I’d almost have believed you. Don’t get me wrong—the music is still beautiful, but mainly because it incorporates so many of the old themes.

So while I have nothing to complain about with the new scores, I also have to say that they weren’t spectacular. None of the new themes stood out to me. Nothing felt iconic. But I don’t blame the composer for that; in fact, if I were John Williams, I’d purposely write a good score instead of a great one just to emphasize that you can only build on the same franchise for so long before you’re just beating a dead Gungan. (Does any particular Gungan come to mind?) All that to say, even if the recent Star Wars films don’t showcase it fully, John Williams is still the king of composers.

IN CONCLUSION

Overall, I’ve enjoyed Disney’s Star Wars films as regular movies—even as space fantasy movies. They’re well done, and they appeal to a wide audience. But despite this, I’m not sure I’m ready to accept them into the official Star Wars canon alongside Lucas’s works. In my mind, there’s more to making a Star Wars movie than simply handing someone a light saber—whether it’s Mickey Mouse or Kylo Ren. A true Star Wars movie needs a little magic (or maybe the Force), and I’m not sure we’ll find that in Disney.

Today’s Question: What would you have changed about any of Disney’s Star Wars movies?

Check out the next post here!

Disney’s Star Wars: Stories and Themes

After decades of creating, crafting, and controlling the Star Wars universe, George Lucas has finally passed the baton—or the light saber?—to Disney, and things will never be the same.

I don’t know how you took the news of this massive acquisition, but when I heard that Lucas sold out to Disney for $4 billion, I was disappointed. Sure, Episodes I-VI had their flaws (as I’ve discussed previously), but at least Lucas was deeply invested in the Star Wars universe. The originals were classics, and I trusted that the prequels weren’t (only) about money.

But I can’t trust Disney in the same way. As soon as the purchase was finalized, they started cranking out a movie per year (not to mention a theme park), no doubt eager to make back the dough they dropped on the company. But have the new movies reeked of Mickey Mouse? Have they been thinly-veiled attempts at milking the cash bantha? Or have they succeeded at luring a fresh generation into new Star Wars-esque stories? I can’t offer a definitive answer to those questions, but after we examine the story, characters, and effects of Disney’s four Star Wars films, maybe you can.

THE STORIES

The Plot of Episodes VII-VIII

The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi are Episodes VII and VIII in the main saga, and you can find plenty of nods at the original trilogy within the stories. In fact, it seems like they barely changed the plot around from A New Hope to The Force Awakens. Maybe they were trying to make it feel nostalgic, hoping to placate long-time fans with a familiar storyline while introducing new characters. Regardless, the similarities are pretty obvious: the film starting out with a droid; some secret plans getting stored inside said droid; a pit stop at a lively cantina; a short, ancient guru who seems quirky but has great insight; and even the plan to blow up a big, round weapon. The story itself has new elements, but the main plot point feels pretty familiar.  

The Last Jedi has some similarities, too: Rey seeks guidance from Luke just as Luke sought it from Yoda; the conflicted villain, Kylo Ren, pulls a Vader and destroys his evil master; and the remaining Rebels cower in their hidden base from the onslaught of the First Order. But for all the similarities, Episode VIII does change things up in many ways—Finn, the frightened storm trooper, begins to find his courage; Rey puts her trust in an unstable bad guy; and Luke tricks us all by using the Force to project himself onto the battlefield. If you were hoping for the old, familiar Star Wars story, you probably preferred Episode VII, but if you wanted a new twist on a familiar universe, Episode VIII may have been more your style.

The Plots of Star Wars Stories

Plot-wise, Rogue One and Solo were pretty fresh, but they both set about to answer questions that perhaps no one was asking. Rogue One answers, “How did Leia get the plans to the Death Star’s schematics?” That question had never bothered me before, but it does address one issue that had always irked me: why in the world did the Empire make such a big weapon with such a fatal flaw?? It helps me to think that a Rebel-sympathizer planted the weakness on purpose. That’s much more reasonable than wondering if the Imperial engineers were really just that dunderheaded. (Although considering how poorly the stormtroopers aim their blasters, it wouldn’t surprise me.)

Solo answered a lot of unasked questions, too, filling in much of the backstory alluded to in Episodes IV-VI. If you’re the curious sort, maybe you enjoyed finding out how Han made the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs or why Lando may have been mad at Han after all those years. Personally, I think the original trilogy included those lines to create an illusion of history rather than to provide fodder for future films. Either way, the plots of all four films were entertaining, familiar or not. But what about the themes?

THE THEMES

The Theme of Self-Doubt

One character-based theme in Episodes VII-VIII is self-doubt. Finn begins with conflict between his training as a stormtrooper and his repugnance for the First Order. Rey seems stable, but her self-doubt surfaces when she considers her origin and apparent insignificance. Kylo Ren is self-doubt embodied as he struggles between his desire to be a bad guy and his soft spot for his parents. Even Luke, the venerable Jedi master himself, is full of self-doubt as he reflects on his failure with Kylo Ren specifically and the “hubris” of the Jedi in general.

So why does this theme permeate the movies? Probably because self-doubt is a relatable and popular theme in modern storylines, so it’s sure to sell. Think of how many Disney-type films feature a protagonist who wants something but doubts they can achieve it until they get the proper encouragement and manage to pull it off. Um…like, all of them. We Americans want to be told that it’s ok to doubt ourselves, so long as we realize we’re awesome in the end, and Disney is all about spreading that message.

The Theme of Good and Evil

And of course there is plenty of script spent on the most Star Wars-y theme of all: good versus evil. But is the message the same? The original trilogy presents a dark and a light side of the Force, and most characters fall definitively on one side or the other, making good and bad pretty distinct. But in my opinion, that’s not the case with the Disney versions. Instead, moral relativism is on display, from minor characters to major ones.

Rogue One shows a rag-tag band of Rebel mercenaries who have done terrible things for the Rebellion—spied, sabotaged, assassinated—all in the name of freedom. They’re conflicted and guilt-ridden, desperate to make it all worthwhile. The whole plotline of Solo is one betrayal after another, showing that it’s every man for himself. In The Last Jedi, Luke Skywalker is hiding from war, relationships, and reality because of his disappointment in himself and the rest of the Jedi. “The legacy of the Jedi is failure, hypocrisy, failure,” he tells Rey. And these are supposed to be the good guys?

The Rise of Relativism

The whole theme is encapsulated by DJ, the double-crossing hacker in The Last Jedi, when he says  to Finn, “It’s all machine, partner. Life free; don’t join.” In other words, no matter which side you choose, you’re just one more cog in the same war machine. That feels pretty grim for a saga that was meant to be a classic “good versus evil” space opera. If Disney is trying to show that jaded attitudes and futile efforts are effects of a war-torn system, that’s fine, but it doesn’t feel true to Lucas’s style.

But maybe Disney plans to delineate good and evil in the next film(s). Maybe Disney didn’t mean to promote such a vast grey area between the light and the dark. Sure, and maybe Christopher Nolan didn’t mean for Joker’s philosophy to gain more popularity than Batman’s, but there will always be people who (unwittingly or otherwise) disregard the film’s tone and intent and fasten onto mere content instead. I think we’re in danger of that with the “Live free; don’t join” mentality that Disney is depicting.

IN CONCLUSION

All in all, the stories and themes of Disney’s Star Wars films are entertaining and relatable. There was never much doubt that they would do a good job; after all, they have almost limitless resources. But while they’re entertaining, I’m still waiting for a theme I can really cheer for. As for my take on the characters and effects of these movies, you’ll have to tune in next time. See you then!

Today’s Question: What did you like most about Disney’s Star Wars films? What did you dislike most?

Check out the next post here!

The Favor of Flavor

I was only there for a mini key lime pie.

“Hold on,” said the guy behind the counter. “There’s something else you need.”

“Oh, really?” I queried politely, ready to buy the pie and get out of the Farmer’s Market sooner than later. The day was hot, my baby was tired, and my family and I had a long drive home. Not picking up on my disinterest, he pressed on with his sales pitch.

“Have you tried our dark chocolate berry truffle cakes?” he asked. I hadn’t, and I didn’t intend to. I wanted lime and only lime. But as I glanced at said cakes, I saw a tantalizing display of gorgeous, spherical confections perfectly proportioned for two and liberally garnished with shaved chocolate and edible gold. I licked my lips subconsciously. Sensing my weakness, he launched into his description, and I knew immediately that I was sunk.

“First,” he said, “your fork slides through the firm yet delicate shell of dark chocolate ganache, sending shavings of chocolate cascading down onto the plate. Inside, you see layer upon layer of decadence: a succulent chocolate cake topped with a mixed berry reduction for a slightly tart twist that perfectly complements the richness of the cake. Surrounding these is a thick layer of whipped chocolate mousse, light as a feather and sweet as a kiss. Trust me,” he said, “I don’t even like chocolate, but I love these.” Despite the fact that he was sick in the head (who doesn’t like chocolate??), I shoved my money at him and demanded not only a mini key lime pie but also one of these magical orbs of chocolate delight, STAT.

The truffle cake suffered a tremendous melting on the way home, but I can assure you it was to die for nonetheless.

The Favor of Flavor

Food is a gift from God, and good food is God showing off.

Think about it: He didn’t have to make a world where we ran off of food. We could have been photosynthetic. Or we could have eaten only grass or carrion or algae. We could even be wind-up machines, running off of kinetic energy. But instead, we get to frolic through fields of flavor, and that makes my heart happy indeed. I’m no epicurean or foodie, but I do dearly love to eat all kinds of food. Maybe you can relate.

But have you ever considered how God gave humans the perfect setup to enjoy flavor? We alone possess the unique formula: ingredients + ingenuity = infinite options. Sure, the critters around us can acquire many of the ingredients we do, like fruit, herbs, sugar cane, and water, but when’s the last time you saw a dog combine these to make a refreshing sorbet? God has given humans both the ingredients and the wisdom to combine them with tools, transmogrifying them into entirely new substances. It makes me want to stand in the middle of a grocery store and yell, “ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES!”

One of the things that makes food so exciting is its diverse flavors, sensations, and textures. I really should write a whole post on food texture since it’s one of my quirks, but today I’ll just focus on four specific flavors: sweet, salty, sour, and satisfying.

Sweet and Exotic

I’m starting with sweet on purpose because, although I hate to play favorites, it’s my favorite. I want to say that savory is my favorite, but let’s be honest—at potlucks, I spend a disproportionate amount of time at the dessert table. Also, sweet is the sensation picked up by the very tip of the tongue, so it seems a fitting place to start.

One of my favorite sweet treats is fruit. I can splurge guilt-free on a bowl of berries, but I’d love them even if they were fattening. Some fruits are more than simply sweet—they’re exotic. Think of the mellow juiciness of a mango right off the tree or the powerful tang of a pineapple dripping with freshness. But my favorite fruity treat is a cold honeycrisp apple cut into tiny slices and dipped in the magical mixture of almond butter, raw honey, and Saigon cinnamon. The fresh, sweet/tart apple is the perfect spoon for the satisfying smoothness of the dip. It’s a match made in heaven.

But for manmade sweets, it’s hard to beat ice cream. Whether you like plain ol’ vanilla or Chocolate Peanut Butter Caramel Toffee Almond Coconut Cherry Mudslide Crunch, the enjoyment is the same. Cold and lickable, sweet and creamy, rich and satisfying, ice cream is one of my favorite treats all year long. And while I’m not picky, I am particular about certain things, so I enjoy it best either with a crispy waffle cone or else a tiny metal spoon. Tiny bites mean more time to savor.

Salty and Savory

As much as I love me some sweets, I also can’t resist salt. On its own, salt isn’t one of my favorite flavors, although chefs are able to taste and distinguish between different origins and qualities of salt. But since salt highlights flavor and adds gusto to so many dishes, I’ve come to enjoy it with almost any food. And since the salty sensation is registered around the edge of the whole tongue, it seems that we were made to enjoy it often.

Two of my favorite salty foods are cheeses and meats—all kinds of cheeses and meats. I drool just thinking about smoked ribs and crispy bacon, and don’t even get me started on tender steaks. Pungent cheeses like blue and feta are fabulous on steaks and crackers, while creamy cheeses like goat and brie are perfect with salted deli meats and pastries. One of my favorite salty snacks is thinly-sliced hard salami with smooth goat cheese and crispy herbed crackers. If I can add some ripe strawberries to the mix, I’ll be happy for hours.

Sour and Bitter

Sour and bitter aren’t flavors that I naturally gravitate toward, but there are several exceptions. For example, I recently made a lemon grapefruit basil sorbet from scratch—I’d even grown the basil myself! The sorbet was sweet, tart, tangy, and totally refreshing on a hot day. Sour citrus is perfect for that.

Bitter can be a bad taste, as with burnt food, but it can also be a wonderful flavor. Coffee and dark chocolate are great examples of bitter done right. It took years, but I’ve finally acquired a taste for bold, black, French pressed coffee and any kind of dark chocolate. Now instead of tasting bitter to me, they taste smooth and rich. Our sour and bitter receptors can be found on the sides and back of the tongue, respectively, and if I’m giving that much lingual real estate to those flavors, it’s a good thing I learned to appreciate them.  

Satisfying and Umami

When these flavors combine in just the right way, we get the last flavor: umami—the sensation of savory. Remember the dark chocolate berry truffle cake I was swindled into buying at the Farmer’s Market? When a bite combined sweet, rich, and tart at once, my umami receptors would explode into dances of delight. Umami is detected with the whole tongue instead of just the tip or the sides, so it’s complete joy for the whole mouth.

What a gift! What a privilege! It’s the favor of flavor!

Ps: If you want to dig deeper into a celebration of the art and science of cooking, you should check out Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat. It’s a book by Samin Nosrat and a Netflix documentary. I’m not usually into reading (or using) cookbooks, but this one’s really great!

“One-Anothering” for Introverts

Is it just me, or have you noticed a lot of social media attention (dare I say hype?) about introverts lately?

I mean, there are actual articles called, “The 19 ‘Extroverted’ Behaviors That Annoy Introverts the Most” and “53 Pictures Only Introverts Can Truly Appreciate.” Slogans like “Sorry, can’t talk. I talked to two people yesterday,” or “All I care about is food and avoiding people.” Memes that say, “I love my phone until someone actually calls me on it,” or “Whew, that was close. I almost had to socialize.” And these don’t even begin to scratch the surface of what’s out there. Guys, this introvert thing is huge!

So why write an article drawing attention to this bashful, unobtrusive people group? Why not leave them alone, as they seem to prefer? Because I have a feeling that, what with all these flagrant proclamations, they have the potential to shift not only our cultural awareness (which is fine) but our Christian culture as well (which may be problematic). Bear with me while I explain.

A Smidge of Backstory

First, I want you to hear me loud and clear: I myself am an introvert. I can relate to all the funny (and melodramatic) memes featuring cozy, book-reading loners and socially-hesitant party-goers. I psyche myself up for phone calls and interactions. Sometimes (ok, usually) I make sure the coast is clear before venturing outside. You’re not surprised by this, I’m sure; after all, I’m a bookish blogger. I have introvert written all over me.

This is not a recent development for me either. In elementary, I would hole up and read two Babysitter Club books in one day. In high school, I asked for a keyboard, a guitar, and the complete works of Shakespeare as gifts. I never played a team sport, and while I had some good friends, I was certainly no social butterfly. In college I chose to study creative writing and music so I could be a  singer/songwriter/novelist/hermit living alone in a cabin at the top of a mountain. Oh, sure, I planned to come down occasionally and wow the studios with a new repertoire of deep music and lyrics or to drop another brilliant, handwritten tome on the publisher’s desk, but then I’d retreat to my precious solitude once again.

Little did I know what my future would hold.

Shifting and Stretching

I didn’t make it past my sophomore year of college before God began steering me away from isolation (and delusion). He forcibly shifted my focus to an English Education degree, and—kicking and screaming—I changed my major accordingly. Then I accidentally moved to Texas  and got a job as a high school teacher and play director (a long and wonderful story for another day) and so found myself surrounded by people all the livelong day long. But as an introvert doing extrovert things, I was stretched and stretched some more.

And then, after 11 years of teaching, God moved my husband and me up to Michigan where I found myself completely alone for the majority of the day. My family was too far to simply drop in, and I didn’t know a soul at church. Ah, solitude at long last.

And so, having gotten exactly what I’d been dreaming of for decades, I was finally happy, satisfied, and fulfilled. The end.

The Truth About Our Design

All right, you caught me; that’s not true, and that’s not the end. The truth is that, after finally achieving isolation, I knew that something was missing. It’s not that I craved friends or longed for interactions. (I had books, walks, and writing projects, after all.) But I realized that God must have taught me a very important lesson while I was in Texas because, even though I was happy, something felt off. I knew I wasn’t fulfilling one very important purpose for which God had made me, even though it wasn’t one that came naturally.

See, lately we introverts have made sure the world knows all about what we want via our social media soap boxes. But I have a truth bomb for those of us who are also trying to grow in the image of Christ: despite all the proclamations of our delicate needs and preferences, Christian introverts are not exempt from “one anothering.”

What Is “One-Anothering”?

“Hey, wait! First of all, how dare you, and secondly, what is one anothering?”
So glad you asked. Obviously it’s a weird verb form of “one another,” but it’s used to refer to the “one another” commands in the New Testament—things like love one another, serve one another, be hospitable to one another…you get the picture. If the Bible had limited itself to things like “avoid one another,” introverts would be in the clear, but God tends to be pretty relational. That’s why I felt a gap in my soul when I was alone. It turns out that after God was through stretching me like taffy in Texas, my small heart had grown three sizes. God had knocked down some fences, scooched over my bookshelves, and made room for others.

And that, my friends, is a very good thing.

Soli Deo Gloria

And the best part is that I didn’t do it myself—God did it to me. On my own, I’m just like C.S. Lewis during his reluctant conversion, “kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting [my] eyes in every direction for a chance of escape.” We aren’t sure where He’s taking us, but we’re positive it won’t be comfortable, and so we sink in our heels and balk like a stubborn old mule. But change us He will, because that’s His design for His children. Sure, it can be scary or painful and sometimes exhausting, but as with all sanctification, God is faithful to complete what he starts in us. He takes all the responsibility, and he gets all the glory.

God definitely deserves glory for changing my heart of stone to a heart of flesh, especially by giving me a loving, serving, extroverted husband to encourage me in one-anothering. Since I no longer work a job that puts me smack in the middle of a school and church, I technically have the option of connecting or retreating. But do you want to hear a miracle? Slowly but surely, I’m connecting! I’ve had dinner parties with friends, conversations with neighbors, lunch with church visitors, and deeper friendships with more people. And I’m not just trying to get points for altruism—it’s for my good, too! It’s almost like God’s plan is perfect or something.

Same Commands; Different Approach

So God is working in the heart of every believer in order to change us. Is He trying to make introverts more like extroverts or vice versa? No, He’s simply making us all more like Jesus. God has designed us differently on purpose, and we’re all “wonderfully made.” But we are also “his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” And it just so happens that many of those good works will involve other people.

Will it look the same for an introvert and an extrovert to practice “one-anothering”? Probably not. Introverts may meet in smaller groups, make more Tolkien references, and breathe into paper bags afterward, and that’s all right. But by God’s grace, we can all begin to “honor one another above [our]selves,” “serve one another in love,” “carry each other’s burdens,” “speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs,” “confess [our] sins to each other,” “offer hospitality to one another without grumbling,” and “use whatever gift [we have] received to serve others.” And above all, we can love and encourage one another. Since those two commands are repeated over and over, they must be pretty important.

Wrapping It Up

Whether you’re an introvert or an extrovert, that list is pretty daunting, and it’s only a small sampling of what God asks of us. Feeling ready to wave the white flag and run for the hills? Don’t! The good news is that “God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him.” He promises to supply not only the ability but even the desire to obey? Praise God! What a relief.

So, my fellow introverts, take courage. Let’s start small and see what God does in us and through us. We can start by swapping out sentiments like, “A large group of people is called a ‘no thanks,’” for “A large group of people is called a ‘sanctification situation.’” Even if a large group, for you, is two people. And afterward, by all means let’s relax and recharge. But let’s do so with the intention of opening our hearts and our homes again and again, knowing that the over-planning and over-thinking is far outweighed by the reward for our obedience.

Sources:
Quote from Surprised by Joy: https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/681434-you-must-picture-me-alone-in-that-room-in-magdalen
Commands: http://storage.cloversites.com/wakarusamissionarychurch/documents/59one_another_scriptures.pdf
Article: https://www.challies.com/articles/one-another-the-bible-community/
Verse References in Order: Ps. 139:14, Eph. 2:10, Phil. 2:13, NLT, Romans 12:10, Galatians 5:13, Galatians 6:2, Ephesians 5:19, James 5:16, I Peter 4:9, I Peter 4:10

The Shortcomings of Star Wars I-III, Part 2

Shortcomings? In Star Wars?? Preposterous!

Yes, my friends, it’s true; even Star Wars has some room for improvement. Last time, I tried to write about the shortcomings of Episodes I-III but got carried away with what I liked instead. But today I promise to admit several aspects that rubbed me the wrong way in the prequel trilogy. Join me, won’t you?

WHAT WORKED TECHNICALLY

Ok, you caught me—this is one more positive aspect of the prequels. (A whole post about negatives wouldn’t not be terrible, right?) Let me just say that, for all the things I don’t prefer about Episodes I-III, I can’t help but like them anyway, and I have a feeling that’s largely due to their stunning visuals. George Lucas really has been ahead of his time with technology from the beginning, and the prequel trilogy is solid proof of that.

While he was taking a break from directing for a few decades, he was busy with his other corporations like Industrial Lights and Magic, the company in charge of the visuals for Star Wars (and a massive host of other films). The development of computer generated images (CGI) even between Episodes I and III is amazing. While the grass battlefield in The Phantom Menace looks like the early days of video games, the broad scope of cities and skies in Revenge of the Sith looks spectacular.

While Yoda may be new and improved in the prequel trilogy, my heart will always belong to the puppet.

Those developments took only six years, so consider how far the effects had come since Return of the Jedi in 1983! The last time we saw Yoda, he was a stiff puppet more akin to a Sesame Street character than a Jedi master. But the new Yoda is a boss! He’s slicing, dicing, and flipping around with his little light saber, challenging the Emperor himself. (Regardless, I still like the old Yoda better, even if his puppet mouth invites bad lip reading spoofs.)

But perhaps the crowning moment for Lucas’s CG is when we see Sir Christopher Lee zooming off on a tiny scooter. I mean, that alone is worth the price of admission.

WHAT DIDN’T WORK AS WELL

Story and Characters

Now, it would be easy to take cheap shots at these movies, but I don’t want to go that route. Instead, I’ll just make a few observations that struck me even from the first time I watched them. First, I must acknowledge a deep and abiding dislike of Jar Jar Binks. I know it’s nearly unanimous, but I had to say it. I can’t quite put my finger on why he bothers me so much, but it’s something like watching a clown bonk himself on the head and talk gibberish to get a laugh out of you, but you’re already an adult.

I don’t fault the voice actor; he was just following the script. And really, it’s hard to blame Lucas either. As a writer, sometimes things are just funnier in your head, and there’s no way to know how it will go over with a real audience. Regardless, I had to admit that I’m among the majority of fans who didn’t prefer the hapless little Gungan.

But does it surprise you that I also don’t care for Darth Maul? I know he’s supposed to be the ultimate villain in Episode I, but he has virtually no character development. We know next to nothing about him, he barely gets any lines, and we hardly see him until his duel with Qui-Gon. The best I can say for him is that he spends a lot of time on his makeup in the morning, and it shows.

Why on earth (or Naboo) is a mature, intelligent woman like Padme falling for a sassy, angry kid like Anakin?

Episode I gets a lot of flak for these and other reasons, but let’s talk about Episode II for a moment. My first impression after seeing it in the theater was the pendulum swing between flirting and fighting, flirting and fighting. And why on earth (or Naboo) is a mature, intelligent woman like Padme falling for a sassy, angry kid like Anakin? I mean, even Jar Jar would have been a better choice! At least he wasn’t brooding and violent. But hey, that’s just my opinion.

Acting

Aside from Jar Jar Binks, the most disliked aspect of the prequels may be Hayden Christensen’s acting. Next to the talent of Ewan McGregor, the poor kid can tend to look a little like a reanimated corpse. (I think it’s the glaring eyes and heavy lips.) Whether he’s flirting, yelling, or crying, most of his interpretation comes across like a junior high boy with a surplus of hormones. But seriously, what else could he do with some of those lines? And he was only 19 when Attack of the Clones was released, so let’s not be too hard on him.

For me personally, Episode I is the least enjoyable of the prequels. There’s Jar Jar, of course, and any lengthy racing scene can get a little tedious, but some of my aversion is also due to the pivotal role being given to a kid. No matter who he is, that’s a lot to ask from a child actor and an audience.Apparently, many people feel that Jake Lloyd, who played young Anakin in Episode I, gave a lackluster performance, and he seems to have taken the criticism pretty hard through the years.

But again, I think he deserves some slack. He was just a nine year old following the script and the directing. The story needed to include Anakin’s childhood, and so we find ourselves with Episode I. For good or for ill, it’s part of the series, so from now on I’ll try to focus on the positive aspects of The Phantom Menace. (Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon Jinn.)

TRUTHS AND LIES

No one would dispute that there are weaknesses in the prequel trilogy, and many a fan has vented very specific, thorough, and vehement criticisms of the films. If more of this you seek, look elsewhere you must. I want to end on a positive note.

The movie quality progressed from film to digital, but the truths remain timeless.

Storywise, Lucas hit on some timeless truths in the first six films: the sins of the father often affect the son, great change can come from small resistance, and no one is past the possibility of redemption. I would even agree with the digression from fear to anger, hate, and then suffering. Where I disagree is when he seems to imply that the real catalyst of this downward spiral is love.

The prequel trilogy seems to display that the only thing to fear is love itself. Although the Jedi are encouraged to act on charity toward others, they are forbidden to have romantic attachments. When Anakin secretly breaks his vow of celibacy and brings about his own ruin, is his deception to blame? Seemingly, no. It’s because he loves Padme so much that he fears to lose her and would do anything to keep her. Although most of us wouldn’t go on a killing spree and dedicate ourselves to a Sith lord, we can probably relate to the crippling fear of losing loved ones. So what’s the solution?

It’s not, as Yoda advises, to let go of everything you fear to lose. To live a life without love can seem convenient and safe, but it’s not how we were designed. We were created in the image of God, to Whom the giving and sharing of love is integral. That doesn’t mean everyone has to marry; we can fulfill that design by loving friends, family, and those around us. But rather than letting love blind and destroy us, we must strive to love deeply and in healthy proportion to our love for a good God who isn’t struggling to hold evil at bay. Good will win, and love will remain; there is nothing to fear. That’s easier said than done, of course, but isn’t it a much better solution than monastic celibacy or dangerous, obsessive paranoia? I tend to think so.

WRAPPING IT UP

Thanks for joining me in this lengthy discussion about Star Wars Episodes I-III! I’ve really enjoyed this series so far, and I hope you have too. I’ll be continuing to write about George Lucas throughout the summer, but I’ll sprinkle in other topics here and there for the sake of my non-geek friends. For now, it’s another happy landing.

Today’s Question: What bothered you most about the Episodes I-III?