It's NOT The Matrix! (maybe)

Have you ever had a dream that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?

“Aha!” you laugh. “I see what you did there!” you say. “Dave, you are quoting a line from The Matrix,” you scold.

To which I reply, “That’s impossible! This is a review of Inception, not The Matrix! Silly you!”

Yes, for the first time in eleven years, we have a good movie about traveling around inside of sleeping people’s heads. (Don’t worry, I won’t be spoiling anything in this review that the movie doesn’t tell you almost at once.) Leonardo DiCaprio used to earn his living by starring in Titanic, making women’s eyes weep and men’s eyes roll. Now, however, he earns his living by breaking into people’s dreams and stealing or planting secret information there. And it turns out that dreams are pretty crazy places to break into. Alas, I rarely remember my dreams, so I’ll just have to take director Christopher Nolan’s word for it.

Now, I could go on and on about how this is a very fast-paced, tense, spectacular, controversial, and confusing movie. I could say it’s one of the most impressive movies released so far this year. But the best part of this movie is that it has now spawned a new catchphrase, invented by me:

That’s right: “You got Incept’d!” It’s just like “you got punk’d!” but more ironic, and therefore more appealing to hipsters. Now, I know you can’t wait to bust out this catchphrase on your friends, so let me offer you five possible situations in which you can use it:

1. Your friend tells you that you were in her dream last night.
2. Your friend experienced a dream within a dream last night.
3. Your friend tells you about his great new idea that sounds like something you would’ve come up with.
4. Your friend just finished watching Inception.
5. Your friend has a major crush on Leonardo DiCaprio.

And that’s when you announce to your friend in triumph, “You got Incept’d!” There’s a certain thrill to it.

So let’s find out how that thrill affects my foolproof rating system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

The answer is: not at all, because you don’t even have to see Inception to enjoy using the catchphrase! The good (or bad) news is that Inception is the kind of movie you’ll want to see at least twice, since you’ll want to watch most of it again to figure out what the heck is going on. Thus, I give it $$$¢ (three dollars and change). I might pay money to see it again, depending on my mood and who’s going with me. And especially depending on whether or not my fellow viewers are willing to tolerate my sensational new refrain, “You got Incept’d!”

Trippy!

Have you seen James Cameron’s newest special effects extravaganza yet?  Odds are that you have without even knowing it.  His movie Avatar is the third installment in what I like to call the Dances with Wolves trilogy:

• Dances with Wolves I (a.k.a. Dances with Wolves)
• Dances with Wolves II:  Dances with Wolves in Japan (a.k.a. The Last Samurai)
• Dances with Wolves III:  Dances with Wolves in Space (a.k.a. Avatar)

I just told you everything you need to know about the movie’s plot.  In fact, I don’t think spoilers are even possible for a movie like this.  If you’ve seen Dances with Wolves I or II, you already know what happens.  American soldier becomes involved with the technologically inferior enemy culture he is fighting.  He learns the superiority of their ways.  He falls in love with a local lass.  He earns the trust of the natives and switches sides to fight against his own countrymen.  The audience cheers him on as he assaults the very foundation of their civilization.  It was good stuff the first time around.  And the second.  But now that Dances with Wolves III is out, all the characters are shallow cliches, the dialogue is bland and expected, and the plot holes are widening into gaping chasms.

But you aren’t interested in this movie for the plot, are you?  I sure wasn’t!  I had come to see the much-hyped special effects.  In this department, the movie doesn’t disappoint.  It’s pretty spectacular, which it had better be, since the budget of Avatar was greater than the GDP of several small island nations such as Palau (true story).  If you want the full eyeballs-on-fire effect, you’ll want to see it in 3D, like I did.  That’s the theory, anyway.  The reality, as I learned when watching Up, is that you don’t even notice the 3D effects after the first five minutes or so.  So there’s really no point.  Save a couple of bucks and go for the 2D edition.  If you’re feeling generous, you can give me those two bucks.  I promise to spend them wisely (on ice cream).

Even interstellar militant hippies use Crest Whitestrips®.

Avatar definitely blurs the line between reality and CGI until you can’t tell the difference between the two.  It also tries to blur the line between reality and propaganda, though less successfully.  When the evil human colonel announces that he plans to “fight terror with terror” and drive out the natives with a “shock and awe” campaign, it’s fairly obvious what message Cameron is trying to send.  The American imperialists are a bunch of environment-wrecking, native-massacring brutes who are no better than the terrorists whom they fight.  Apparently Cameron had been working on this movie for ten years.  If this was the most intelligent, nuanced message that he could put together in all that time, you’ll have to forgive me for dropping him a few notches in my “top creative minds” list.  This is after he already dropped a few notches for a crappy plot.

So far I’ve been pretty harsh on Avatar, I guess.  I think it’s mostly because I’ve gradually grown accustomed to movies with huge special effects.  I suppose I’ve mellowed out to the point where I don’t care about that junk anymore.  Just give me a movie with a worthwhile plot and characters.  Like, say, Dances with Wolves I and II.  Except that the first Dances with Wolves was really long, so I don’t think I want to sit through that.  (Did I mention that Avatar is three hours long?)

Papyrus: cool like wearing Puma shoes.

All right, we’ve gotten past the important stuff, so now let’s waste time on a minor quibble.  Whenever the natives (the Na’vi) talk in their own language, the movie helpfully offers subtitles…in Papyrus font.  This is kinda dorky, but I hate Papyrus font.  It’s almost as bad as Comic Sans.  It’s always used whenever a document is meant to look “ancient,” but it only makes it look hokey and low-budget because everybody uses that font for everything.  It should not be used anymore, forever.  So that’s my helpful tip of the day.  If you hadn’t already given me two bucks earlier in this review, now would be a good time to do so.

Enough ranting!  It’s time to rate the movie.  Here’s my tried-and-true-and-shamelessly-subjective system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

And Avatar gets $$¢ (two dollars and change).  If you’re still interested in seeing the movie, don’t wait until it comes out on DVD (or Blu-ray, if you’re rich).  You’ll want to watch this on as big a screen as possible.

How that house is gonna squeeze through the hole in the "P" is beyond me.

Here’s my frustration with Pixar:  they’ve ruined so many movies for me.  Not their own movies—other studios’ movies.  They keep pumping out one great animated movie after another, so by now I’ve foolishly begun to associated computer animation with high-quality movies.  Naturally, then, when I watch a movie like Monsters vs. Aliens, it ends up being pretty disappointing, because there’s no depth or maturity or plot behind the formulaic humor and self-empowerment follow-your-dreams schmaltz.

Not so in Pixar movies.  With WALL•E, and now with Up, they’re blazing new trails.  In the past, Pixar movies were what you’d describe as kids’ movies that appeal to adults.  However, their last two movies (and possibly The Incredibles as well) are instead adults’ movies that appeal to kids.  They’re colored with a vivid, joyful melancholy that gives their stories of love, devotion, and sacrifice a sense of realism that very few movies—animated or otherwise—ever achieve.  Up is a computer-generated movie about an old man flying to an imaginary land in a totally impractical vessel—a house suspended under thousands of helium-filled balloons.  Yet it feels much more real than nearly any adventure movie you’ve ever seen.  And the wordless ten-minute montage of Carl Fredricksen’s life at the beginning of the movie is a far more touching, beautiful, and real love story than any romance movie you’ll see this year.  All of the characters are real.  Carl is not merely a grumpy old geezer but a cynical yet sentimental man driven by love lost.  Russell isn’t a heartwarming wonder child with wisdom beyond that of the movie’s adults; he’s just a hapless yet passionate kid.  Dug the dog has a collar that lets him talk, and he says exactly what a real dog would say if given the opportunity.  (This is why Dug is the funniest character in the movie.)  The villain is not a lunatic; it’s easy to understand what drives him.  And regarding one of the movie’s many themes, only Pixar is bold enough to suggest that sacrificing your dreams for the sake of love may be more precious than following them.

What all this means is that I am now a slave to Pixar for life.  From now on, I will have to go see every movie of theirs in theaters as soon as it is released.  I wish that, just once, they would poop out a real stinker so that I could have an excuse to wait until a friend rents it.  But noooo, they’ve gotta keep making great movies every time.

I want to buy my next car with a bag of money just like this one.

So here’s my recommendation for Disney:  hand Pixar two bags full of money with dollar signs on the side, and tell them to make whatever movies they want to make.  Then sit back and light a couple cigars with hundred-dollar bills, because it is Pixar that’s carrying the torch of the old animated Disney movies that have become a cherished part of our culture.

Oh, and one last thing:  even if you, the reader, have the option of watching Up in 3D, it’s really not necessary.  This was the third movie I’ve watched in 3D, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the third dimension is always either a) distracting or b) superfluous.  Thankfully, Up falls into the second category; you pretty soon forget that you’re watching it in 3D except for the fact that you’ve got a pair of heavy, dorky-looking plastic glasses perched upon your schnoz.  So save yourself a couple of bucks and opt for the dimension-challenged version of Up.

Okay, all the blather is over, and it’s time to rate the movie!  Here’s the system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

And Up gets $$$¢ (three dollars and change).  That’s an excellent rating…nearly as good as the rating I gave WALL•E.  And once I inevitably buy the movie on DVD and watch it a time or two, I might like it even more.

How would you like to have your appendix removed with a rusty scalpel?

Sorry, that’s kind of a weird question.  But it’s not random.  In a sense, I think that something similar is going on among American Christians today, particularly those who are reading the ultra-popular book The Shack.  Many people are raving about how this book has deepened their relationship with God.  I don’t doubt that this is happening; this book has a lot of truth in it that is cutting out infection in people’s lives.  However, it is also riddled through and through with severe errors, and I am afraid that these errors will be unconsciously absorbed by those who read it, until over time a newer and more severe problem will develop.  A rusty scalpel may cure an immediate illness, but it will introduce a more severe infection that may ruin the whole body.

So why am I writing about this book again?  Didn’t I already cover it a few months ago?

True, I wrote a three-part series of posts on The Shack.  To be honest, though, I never really felt like I had a total grasp on what I liked and didn’t like about the book.  That changed earlier this year after I finished studying the tabernacle for seminary (my two earlier posts on the tabernacle can be found here and here).  I found that the tabernacle was a helpful lens through which to view The Shack.  This is because The Shack is, in effect, a sort of tabernacle; the book is all about our relationship with God.  So let’s line The Shack and the tabernacle up next to each other and see what they tell us about God.  Where do they agree (the good points of the back) and where do they disagree (the bad points of the book)?  We’ll do this by asking several key questions.

1.  Does God love people?

The Tabernacle: Yes!  The tabernacle was the means by which a holy God could dwell with the people whom he loved.  After being delivered from Egypt, as they prepared to meet this God, Moses wrote a song with these lines:  “You have led in your steadfast love the people whom you have redeemed; you have guided them by your strength to your holy abode” (Exod 15:13).  God loves people—and in particular, the people whom he has chosen for his own!

The Shack: Yes!  This is a point that is beaten to death, and that’s a good thing.  Papa (the Father) tells Mack that he is “smack dab in the center of my love” (p. 98).  However, there is a question as to what William Young thinks love is.  For example, he claims that the people who know God are “the ones who are free to live and love without any agenda” (p. 181).  Love without an agenda is no love at all!  Love always has an agenda—to see others conformed to the image of Jesus Christ.

2.  Does God want to be in relationship with people?

The Tabernacle: Yes!  The whole point of the tabernacle is that it is the dwelling place of God among his people.  God could have remained aloof, observing the world from afar.  Instead, he chose to be closely involved, meeting and talking with his people in the tabernacle (Exodus 25:22).

The Shack: Yes!  In fact, the book is focused on the idea of relationships—between God and man as well as between man and his fellow man.  Papa tells Mack, “I desire to be in relationship with every human being” (p. 100).  Now, there are strong indications that Young’s idea of relationship is markedly different from the biblical idea of relationship (that is, God’s idea of relationship).  But we’ll get to that later.

3.  Is God holy?

The Tabernacle: Yes!  You can’t miss this theme; it’s the single reason for the entire book of Leviticus.  Throughout Exodus 26–31, God insists that the place where he dwells and the people to whom he ministers be holy as well.  Holiness means “set apart”—particularly in a moral sense, in which God command us to be holy as well (Leviticus 11:44–45).

The Shack: Yes.  Papa tells Mack, “I am what some would say ‘holy, and wholly other than you’” (p. 98).  However, beyond this concept of being something other, there is hardly any mention of holiness in the book.  There seems to be almost no concept of holiness as moral purity, and Mack is never told that he must be holy.  While The Shack focuses on the love of God, it almost totally ignores his holiness.

4.  Is there any obstacle between man and God (i.e. sin)?

The Tabernacle: Yes!  The unholiness of man due to his sin is what separates man from God.  Leviticus emphasizes the defilement of sin that hinders the close communion that God wants with his people.  In Exodus 32, the people build a golden calf as an alternative worship system; God nearly wipes them out in his wrath because they have “sinned a great sin” (Exodus 32:30).  Sin in the Bible damages our relationship with God; it is identified as breaking his law, as failing to love him, as being morally twisted and corrupted, and ultimately as rebelling against his authority.

The Shack: Yes.  The Shack emphasizes many things that stand between us and God; essentially, Young views “sin” as anything that hinders our relationship with God.  Throughout the book, he places particular emphasis on fear, a lack of trust in him, and independence from him.  All well and good!  However, he also adds hierarchy and institutions to the list.  In other words, authority and institutions (whatever he means by that) are inherently sinful.  This flies in the face of what God really teaches in the Bible; the authority of God is a great thing, and he gives authority to people as well.  He also institutes marriage, human government, and the church, among other examples.  Young’s idea of relationship has more in common with hippie communes than with the love relationship that the true God wants us to have with him.

5.  How does God handle sin?

The Tabernacle: Ultimately, there are two ways that God handles sin.  One is to punish the sinner.  In the Second Commandment, forbidding idolatry, he declares, “I the LORD your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments” (Exodus 20:5–6).  That God punishes evildoers is an inescapable theme of both the Old and New Testaments.  Yet there is hope for us in a second way!  In the Old Testament, the Lord offered atonement for sins through a ritual known as the Day of Atonement, in which the people’s sins were paid for by the death of an animal as a substitute (Leviticus 16).  Ultimately, this prefigured the atonement offered by Jesus Christ (Hebrews 9–10).

The Shack: The Shack has two things to say about sin.  One is that sin must be forgiven by God (p. 225).  The second is that God does not intend to punish sin.  Papa tells Mack, “I don’t need to punish people for sin.  Sin is its own punishment, devouring you from the inside.  It’s not my purpose to punish it; it’s my joy to cure it.”  This is only a half-truth.  It is true that sin itself can be a punishment (Romans 1:24–31).  However, the Bible is crystal clear that God actually does punish sin, both in this life and (more importantly and finally) in the next.

6.  Why did Jesus Christ have to die?

The Tabernacle: As we just saw—prefigured by the tabernacle—Jesus Christ had to die to bear the penalty of our sin, satisfying the absolutely just wrath of God against our sin by serving as a substitute for us.  And that is just one aspect of the crucifixion!  It is because of his sacrifice that we are forgiven of our sins.  And it is because of his righteousness that is made ours that we can now boldly come before the God who loves us, in relationship with him (Hebrews 10:19–22).

The Shack: First, Jesus provided the example of a servant who gave up his rights (p. 137); this agrees with the Bible (Philippians 2:5–8).  Second, in some sense, what Jesus did allows God to forgive people of their sins (pp. 224–225); obviously, this is true as well.  Third, Jesus accomplished the reconciliation of the entire world—meaning every last person on earth—to God (p. 192).  Here’s where we run into problems, because first of all, this is nonsense; reconciliation is not possible between a willing party and an unwilling party.  In fact, those who do not believe in Jesus Christ “walk as enemies of the cross of Christ” (Philippians 3:18).  Fourth, and even more troubling, Jesus did not die to bear the penalty of our sins as a substitute for us.  On p. 96, Young (using God the Father as his mouthpiece) insists that God did not forsake his Son at the cross (Jesus was just really whiny in Matthew 27:46, I guess).  If he was not forsaken, then we who should be forsaken for our sins have no confidence that Jesus Christ has received this affliction in our place (Isaiah 53).  If you think I am reading too much into this, Young himself has explicitly denied that Jesus Christ died as a substitute for us, bearing the penalty for our sins.

Bottom line?  It would appear that the God of The Shack is a God of love (sort of), but he/she is not particularly holy.  This is not the true God that we are called to worship!  I encourage you, if you plan to read this book (or already have), read it with exceptional discernment and caution.  Be careful about surgery done with a rusty scalpel.

1.  Story time

The Shack is a story.  Narrative—fiction or non-fiction—is a very powerful means of communication, and it is very effective at getting across an agenda.  We could turn to the Bible itself as a prime example of this; throughout much of the Bible, theology is given legs through pictures of God actually at work through the course of history.  I have read several people who try to deflect criticism from The Shack by appealing to its nature as a fictional work, but even fiction can have an agenda (good or bad), and this book certainly does.  Young’s writing style varies from passable to cringe-worthy (the “gilt edges”/“guilt edges” pun about the Bible from p. 66 comes to mind); his chapter titles are incredibly corny; he can’t seem to decide whether or not to give God the Father a consistent sassy-black-woman accent.  Yet the fact remains that the story is at times emotionally moving, and Young is just good enough as a narrator not to get in the way of what he is narrating.

2.  God the mouthpiece

Young’s primary means of revelation is through the members of the Trinity.  Nearly all of the important teaching comes from the mouths of Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit).  The result is that these three become Young’s spokesmen (or spokeswomen?).  As his mouthpieces, they say what he wants them to say.  In a sense, this is an inversion of the biblical pattern where the authors of scripture became God’s spokesmen, saying what he wanted them to say.  Now, The Shack is meant to be read as fiction; however, there is a certain air of authority when it is God himself saying the things Young wants us to believe.

3.  Mack the claqueur

Lest I appear more well-cultured than I really am, I’ll admit that I didn’t know what a claqueur was until last night.  I actually found out while looking at the Wikipedia entry for “laugh track.”  And that’s one of the major roles of Mack’s character—to provide the response to the Trinity’s teaching that Young wants the audience to have.  It is remarkable how many times, after a member of the Godhead finishes pontificating on a topic, that Mack is said to feel like he wants to laugh and cry at the same time, or is said to feel a great burden lifted from his shoulders, or is said to feel excited and bewildered.  Mack’s emotional responses are a sort of hint that Young provides us as readers; they are a subtle suggestion that we, too, should be feeling the same way, just like laugh tracks in sitcoms inform the audience that a joke has been told and that it is funny (unless the sitcom is That ’70s Show or Friends).

4.  Emotional buzz

I’m not sure whether to be comforted or not by the fact that many people don’t seem to be reading The Shack for theology.  I find it comforting because it means that much of the false doctrine taught in this book will be ignored.  But I find it disconcerting because it means that these people are not reading this book to know God more.  Anyone who is seeking to know God more is seeking good theology (the knowledge of God).  Rather than striving for “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8), many Christians are content to use books like this as a cheap drug, a means to getting an emotional buzz—a pseudo-spiritual “high”—that will get them through tough times.  The bad news is that while the God of The Shack may make them feel better for a little while, the “high” won’t last because Young’s God is so meager in comparison to the God of the Bible.

5.  Itching ears

There are others who are reading this book to know God more, and they are swallowing Young’s teaching hook, line, and sinker.  In my initial review, I referred to his God as “a Trinity invented by a 21st-century American.”  I doubt that this book would appeal to people outside of a modern Western audience.  It is grounded so firmly in the perceived needs and worldview of our culture.  We don’t want authority; we don’t want structure; we don’t want a sovereign God.  We want relationship without responsibility and blessing without being broken.  We want an idol carved out of God, where all his “rough edges” are sanded off and a newer, harmless deity is made for us to worship.  The Shack offers us this version of God, and it is no surprise that it has become so popular.  Paul warned Timothy that “the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths” (2 Timothy 4:3-4).

6.  A vein of truth

Despite all these failures, The Shack does teach a lot of true things about God.  It does portray God as caring for his people, as a God of unconditional love, as a God who isn’t a tyrant over his own.  It reminds us that he is immanent—God with us.  It admits that we live in a broken world, full of anguish, sorrow, and hurt.  And it tells us that God wants to restore his creation to the full beauty and harmony that it was meant to display.

7.  The salt has lost its saltiness

Finally, let me be blunt.  This book should not have been written.  By this, I mean that the above truths should be so obvious to people within the church that they do not need a fatally flawed book such as The Shack to remind them.  Moreover, people outside the church should see the love of God manifested in his people and their love for one another (John 13:35).  You and I—we have failed to show others the one true God by the way we conduct our lives.

As long as we refuse to give ourselves up as living sacrifices to God, as long as we hold ourselves back, we will no longer be shining “as lights in the world” (Philippians 2:15).  Let us live in such a way that no one around us is interested in reading The Shack because they see in us something resembling the true God.  It is certainly our responsibility to refute false doctrine (Titus 1:9).  But above all, let us remember Jesus’ commandment:  “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16).

So…the first.  If you haven’t read Gerald Hiestand’s review, do that first; then come back here.  Before I had read The Shack, I read his review, and it sounded over-the-top to me.  After reading the book, I’m convinced that, far from exaggerating the problem, Hiestand has put his finger on the single most dangerous theme of the book—that authority is a human construct brought about by the Fall, that God considers it “ghastly” (p. 122), and that it is incompatible with true relationship.  Though there are many serious errors in the book, this is one that Young relentlessly pursues throughout the course of his story.  He lays it all out explicitly on pp. 121-124 in a conversation among Mack and the members of the Trinity.  During the course of the dialogue, Jesus explains:

Once you have a hierarchy you need rules to protect and administer it, and then you need law and the enforcement of the rules, and you end up with some kind of chain of command or a system of order that destroys relationship rather than promotes it.  You rarely see or experience relationship apart from power.  Hierarchy imposes laws and rules and you end up missing the wonder of relationship that we intended for you.

One possible response to this is to engage in an imagined philosophical debate with Young over whether authority or hierarchy really is incompatible with relationship.  Instead, I simply want to appeal to God himself—to the words given to us by God, not merely by William P. Young.  The true God reveals himself primarily through the holy and precious scriptures “which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus” (2 Timothy 3:15).  The inherent goodness of God’s authority is stunningly obvious throughout the pages of the Bible.  The first recorded words of God to man reflect his authority in an unbroken, sinless love relationship with his creature; in a rapid series of commands, he tells the man and the woman, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion…” (Genesis 1:28).  That last one, especially, reminds us that man was created as part of a hierarchy, as God’s vice-regent over the creation.  Throughout the creation accounts of Genesis 1-2, prior to the Fall, God commands all things into being, and he commands Adam not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (2:16).  Throughout the rest of the Bible he issues commands and decrees, and one day he will return to rule the nations “with a rod of iron” (Revelation 19:15).  The one true God is not afraid of authority; he is not afraid to reign.

Because Young is familiar with the Bible, he can’t help but slip back into hierarchical terminology when referring to God, describing Jesus as “Lord of Creation” (p. 176) and “king of the universe” (p. 216).  But otherwise, he’s pretty consistent in applying this principle because he proceeds to denigrate the authority of the Bible, of the church, and of men.

The Bible

The only time Young mentions the Bible with more than a passing reference is when he attempts to devalue it.  This takes place on pp. 65-66, where he portrays it as God’s words “reduced to paper.”  It is not “overt” or “direct” communication by God.  It is “moderated and deciphered by the proper authorities and intellects…the intelligentsia.”  It limits God:  “No one wanted God in a box, just in a book.”

While Young uses biblical terminology throughout much of the book, he feels free to supplement the teachings of scripture with his own ideas about God, even going so far as to contradict the Bible if necessary to suit his agenda (as we have already seen).  He does not respect the authority of scripture as Jesus Christ did (Matthew 5:17-19).  He does not treasure its words as the psalmist did (Psalm 119).

The Church

Once again, every mention of the church as an institution is negative.  Using Jesus as his spokesman, Young explains that the church “is all about people and life is all about relationships” (p. 178).  It’s hard to argue with that…until we remember that to him, relationships are incompatible with authority.  Young’s Jesus insists, “I don’t create institutions—never have, never will” (p. 179).  This is utterly absurd; Christ did institute his church.  He gave it the sacraments of the Lord’s Supper and baptism.  He established procedures for church discipline (Matthew 18:15-20).  His apostles, sent with his authority, affirmed the offices of elder and deacon (1 Timothy 3:1-13, Titus 1:5-9).  They laid out rules and guidelines for proper conduct in the church (1 Corinthians 14) and care for the widows (1 Timothy 5:3-16), among other things.  The Holy Spirit equipped the people of the church with spiritual gifts “for the common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7)—including the gifts of leadership (Romans 12:8) and administration (1 Corinthians 12:28)!

If the church—local and universal—is not an institution, I don’t know what is.  Institutions are not inherently bad; in keeping with his response to the concept of authority itself, Young is throwing the baby out with the bathwater.  Just because the church can be twisted and imperfect doesn’t mean that structure and hierarchy are themselves evil.  In the church, they are the structure on which relationships grow and flourish.

Masculinity

Hiestand came down hard on this one, and after reading the book, I understand why.  Let’s set aside the jarring fact that God the Father appears as a woman (Young insists on veering from the almost exclusively male depiction of God in the Bible).  Beyond that, the author undermines male headship and strongly implies that women are superior to men.  As a result of pitting relationship against authority, Young ends up rightly affirming feminine virtues while criticizing a caricature of masculine virtues.  His Jesus explains to Mack, “Like most men you find what you think of as fulfillment in your achievements, and Nan [Mack's wife], like most women, find [sic] it in relationships.  It’s more naturally her language” (p. 146).  It’s not hard to figure out where this is leading.  Young spends the entire book rejoicing in relationships, so of course women, who are apparently better than men at this, end up being naturally superior to men.

Young’s Jesus goes on to say, “The world, in many ways, would be a much calmer and gentler place if women ruled.  There would have been far fewer children sacrificed to the gods of greed and power” (p. 148).  When Mack speculates that perhaps it would have been better if women were given the role of authority, Jesus responds, “Better, maybe, but it still wouldn’t have been enough.”  Then he goes on to insist that power in human hands always corrupts and is inherently bad.  So the damage has been done to masculinity; perhaps the world wouldn’t be a perfect place if women were in charge, but it would be better.

The Shack is all about a love relationship.  This would be a great thing if Young left room for other perspectives offered by the Bible, which talks about our spiritual journey as fearing the Lord (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14), as a sacrifice to God (Philippians 2:17), as slavery to a new master (Romans 6:15-19), as a battle “against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12; tellingly, The Shack never once mentions the devil or demonic forces).  But rather than leaving room for these and many other perspectives, he excludes them.

God has and will use The Shack to remind people that he loves them and longs for a deeper relationship with them.  For that, I praise God and marvel at his use of flawed instruments to accomplish his perfect will.  Yet I am afraid that this book will not only lead people astray with blatantly false teaching but encourage people to become fatally unbalanced in their understanding of masculinity, of the church, of the Bible, and ultimately of God himself.

The Shack

Check out a few more helpful reviews:

• Walter Henegar:  “Good fiction has the potential to illuminate biblical truth, but not when it effectively supplants it. We need the Bible, not The Shack.”
• Gerald Hiestand:  “The net result is a God who rejects—indeed is repulsed by—the use of power.”
• Paul Grimmond:  “If western Christianity had spent more time in ‘the shack’ with the true and living creator, and less time wallowing around in our felt needs, then, just maybe, less people would have been fooled. We might have recognized The Shack for the empty shell that it is.”

My goal is to reflect on the book a couple more times on this blog—first, to expand on Hiestand’s observation, and second, to examine why The Shack has had such a powerful effect on people.

But I really liked it.

Hey! it's steak!

It’s kind of weird watching a movie and realizing that its greatest strength isn’t the way it tells a story but rather the story it is telling.  It takes a few minutes to realize that it’s a different sort of movie you’re watching.  It’s kind of like the difference between eating cotton candy and chewing on a steak.  Cotton candy is sugary and delicious, but it’s not the sort of thing you’d eat for dinner unless you are Will Ferrell in Elf.  Steak, on the other hand, fills your hungry belly with its juicy goodness.  And even if it’s not the best cut of meat…hey! it’s steak!

In this movie starring Kirk Cameron as a firefighter whose marriage is falling apart, the steak was seasoned well enough that it didn’t distract from the message.  And as I watched, I appreciated how radical that message was.  I mean, check out some of the things it taught about marriage:

• Love is not a feeling; it’s a choice.
• The kind of love required by a failing marriage requires you to first know the love of Christ.
• A husband should become a student of his wife, learning everything he can about her.
• You should show love to your spouse even if you are rejected over and over again.

Better for you than Asbestos!

Now when was the last time you saw anything like that in a movie?  I’m convinced that any other relationship flick would seem shallow—all style and no substance—if you watched it immediately after this one.  Even if it were to offer helpful advice on marriage, it could never match the wisdom from God’s Word that this movie draws on.  I’ll admit I was worried that Fireproof would dumb down the gospel and the Christian worldview into a mushy mess.  Instead, it showed the power and wisdom that only comes from a biblical perspective on life and marriage.  Kirk’s (or rather, his character’s) conversion to Christianity was the foundation for saving his marriage, not a happy feel-good scene tacked onto the end.  And the road to recovery wasn’t Candyland but rather a journey of rejection, failure, pain, and sacrifice.  Kinda like real life.

Also kinda like real life, this movie thwarted the usual Hollywood convention by including both major and minor characters who didn’t look like the glamorous menagerie of celebrities that grace the covers of gossip magazines.  It was weird watching a movie and realizing, Hey, this could actually happen to real people.  Unlike, say, Eagle Eye.

So now, the obligatory rating.  The system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

Fireproof lands my second-ever rating of $$$$ (four dollars).  Solid!  I hereby forgive Kirk Cameron for starring in the Left Behind movies.

"I have always been a wand'rer / Over land and sea"

So I was watching Eagle Eye in a theater here in Lafayette along with some friends, and about halfway through the movie, our hero and heroine were ordered to drive to Indianapolis.  The reaction in the theater was immediate—all sorts of nudges and murmurs of approval from the audience.  Indianapolis!  That’s here in Indiana!  We haven’t had a movie take place in Indiana since Hoosiers!  And Eagle Eye didn’t disappoint, spending a great deal of time in Indy, even in locations that I recognized.  It was kind of neat to see Hollywood acknowledge that there are other cities in the US of A besides New York, Los Angeles, and Washington, D.C.  Now if only the news media would get the memo, life would be grand.

Good thing this isn't Nebraska, or he'd be out of cell phone range.

In addition to the bonus points this movie scored for its nod to flyover country, it was also a pretty fun film, as long as you recognize that its premise is totally ridiculous.  The plot revolves around Shia LaBeouf (whose name I still can’t prounounce) and Michelle Monaghan, two ordinary people getting ordered around by a mysterious woman who can track their every move through cell phones, surveillance cameras, and other sinister electronic devices.  Of course, we all know that even the CIA is made up of a bunch of cubicles with hopeless old pawn-shop computers, so no one could actually do this.  And when the perpetrator is eventually unveiled, it is laughably implausible.  But if you’re looking for a realistic flick, why are you going to a movie theater?  Hollywood movies have never been realistic.  I mean, what are the odds that all the people in a real-life romance will be as good-looking as in that chick flick you saw last week?  Most people, including yours truly, are ugly.  So I figure that if we can suspend our disbelief in that area, as we have done for decades, we can simply turn off our brains and enjoy Eagle Eye.  (Note that this doesn’t apply to a movie that flagrantly violates the laws of physics and expects us not to notice.)

Also, Steven Spielberg is such a softie and can’t seem to let movies of this sort end on a tragic note, even when it makes total sense for them to end that way.  If you’ve watched this movie, you know exactly what I mean.

One final complaint I have is that the director seemed to love close-up shots, which are great during dramatic dialogue scenes but not so great in the middle of a giant action sequence when I’m less interested in seeing Shia’s facial stubble and more interested in seeing what the heck is going on.  But hey, I only paid the matinee price for a ticket, so I won’t complain too much.

Rating time!  The system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

Eagle Eye lands $$$ (three dollars).  Make it two dollars and change if you’re not from Indiana.

But to begin with, I’ve put together one of those clever “stereoscopic” pictures—you know, the ones where you have to look “past” the two pictures until they overlap, forming a 3D image.  Check it out!

Brendan Fraser awkwardly stars as a nerdy geologist.

I’m sorry, what was that?  You’ve tried squinting at the darn thing for five minutes, and it still looks flat?

Well, that’s on purpose.  You see, the whole movie is flat.  Brendan Fraser is flat.  The characters are flat, the acting is flat, the plot is flat.  Even though it’s in 3D.  (What a genius observation, ha ha!)  Really, this is just a gimmick movie where that magical third dimension is the only justification for seeing the film. The problem is, those 3D glasses kinda gave me a headache.  Or maybe it was the movie itself.

So here’s my usual rating system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

Journey to the Center of the Earth 3D lands $¢ (one dollar and change).  So far, that’s my lowest rating ever, but I haven’t rated that many movies.  Rest assured, if they release another live-action 101 Dalmations sequel, and I am physically dragged into the theater and duct taped to the seat with my eyes glued open, we would be plumbing the depths of this rating system.