Familiarity breeds a shrug of the shoulders

A few more thoughts on why we miss comedy in the Bible. Here's one: Familiarity.

There is a current fad in British television at the moment to find comic moments in popular sitcoms, talk about them, rate them and then repeat them endless. The ‘funniest moment in British television’ is usually deemed to be Del Boy falling over in Only Fools and Horses. It certainly was extremely funny at the time, and still raises a smile today, but it just isn’t that funny any more.

One key component of comedy, as we have already noted before on this blog, is surprise and shock. Anyone who has been brought up in a church-going family, will already be familiar with the big surprises in the Bible. Some of these big surprises are comic, but the intensity of the shock, or the impact of the absurdity, diminishes unless they’re re-presented or explained in a fresh way (which they usually are not for reasons below).

Because of this, the idea of being in a hot country, miles away from the sea and being asked to build an enormous boat, just doesn’t seem absurd any more. Noah had an ark. We know that. It’s a standard Bible story that even non-Christians teach their children perhaps with a politcally correct, biblically incorrect, spin about global warming. But it’s a funny story, that doesn’t seem so funny any more. Retelling, and recapturing the humour, is an essential task of the pastor or Christian storyteller. This has been with some success in the film Evan Almighty – although the film has some fairly serious flaws from a Biblical perspective. (But Morgan Freeman is excellent as God – if representing him as a person other than Christ wasn’t blasphemous.)

This is undoubtedly the case in a number of other famous Bible stories like David and Goliath – which is extremely comic in its structure and tone. The youngest son of Jesse is covered in armour and sent out into battle to defeat a nine-foot monster. And defeats him with a sling and a stone.

Are we familiar with the idea of a talking donkey – as we find in Numbers 22:21-34? The donkey’s lips are opened and he talks. What’s more, a donkey – an animal – sees an angelic being that Balaam does not see. He has more spiritual insight than the even-more stubborn and asinine prophet. And the donkey lectures the prophet ‘of God’ on how to behave. The comic incongruity is enormous. It’s a very funny scene. But perhaps the joke has worn off through familiarity.

Was there booing?

Some people think that seeing is believing. That 'being there' is the only true authentic experience.

Sarah Silverman is a comedienne who is very much flavour of the month at the moment, operating in the Ricky Gervais 'I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that' groove. In my opinion, it's pretty vile but that's not the issue here. She recently gave a performance at the Hammersmith Apollo which did not go down well. The problem was not something of astonishingly offensive jokes - but the fact that she gave poor value for money. She delivered a 50 minute set (although some reports claim 35 minutes) and left the stage. And the crowd, some of whom had paid £50 for their tickets, began to boo and heckle.

But some of the booing is contested in various reports and reviews I've read in the press - and the comments made by those actually at the performance. So on Times Online, Dean from Cardiff says "I was at the show and Sarah was NOT booed off stage at all! If anything everyone was loving the show and wished that it was longer. The media sucks!" Whereas David from London said "I found myself standing and shouting 'Forty-two quid! Am I the only one?!' She was clearly woefully under-prepared. Most objectionable was her lack of grace and respect for her audience. We came to be entertained, not ripped off. Not funny, not big, not clever. Just lazy & deluded."

There were others mixed messages on other pages. Dominic Cavendish in the Telegraph said "Her second mistake was to quit after doing no more than 40 minutes of shtick. She had been perfectly droll but when she made a premature exit, the mood of the audience turned on a sixpence from eager receptivity to full-blown ire: there were slow handclaps and cries of "We want our money back".

In fact, a friend of mine was there and I still don't really know what happened.

I mention this because I was looking up the Bob Dylan booing controversy for a completely different reason. For those not aware of what I'm talking about, I'm referring to the incident at the Newport Folk Festival on Sunday July 25, 1965, when folk singer Bob Dylan, for whatever reason, decided not to use an acoustic guitar but an electric one. In fact, he played with an electric blues band. This appeared to be a rejection of Dylan's folk roots and some took this very badly. And booed.

The incident was captured on film and in 2007, documentary director Murray Lerner released on DVD his complete footage of Dylan's three appearances at Newport. When talked to Loaded magazine, he said:

"When we showed the film at The New York Film Festival [in October] one kid gets up and says, ‘About this booing… I was sitting right in front of the stage, there was no booing in the audience whatsoever. There was booing from the performers’. So I said, Well, I don’t think you’re right. Then another kid gets up and says ‘I was a little further back and it was the press section that was booing, not the audience’, and I said, Well, I don’t think you’re right. A third guy gets up and says ‘I was there, and there was no question, it was the audience that was booing and there was no booing from the stage’.

Fascinating. People remember hearing what they thought they should hear." You can read more about the Bob Dylan booing incident here. Either way, one wonders whether seeing is really believing.

The Enduring Enigma Machine

On the Hut 33 blog, I wrote some thoughts on why the Enigma machine from World War 2 is so enduring popular in culture. You can find that here.

What is Patience?

At my church, our children's times are looking at the Fruit of the Spirit. Yesterday, we looked at patience - and as usual, the simple explanation of a basic truth throws up lots of really interesting questions. Not least "what is patience?"

Here's a thought, laid out in a format for the mathematicians amongst you.

Patience = contentment + grace

To be be patient, we need to be happy in our current circumstance, ie. Content. But we don't just need to be content in our circumstance to be truly patient. We need to understand why our circumstances are not changing. We need grace - to let God be God and be in control. And to realise that we are not.

So I need to be patient when we run out of biscuits in the house. For that, I need to be content with what God has given me, but also gracious enough to realise that God knows I'd like a biscuit but can't have one - and understand that he may be teaching me something (eg patience), or planning to provide in the future. Okay, it's not a perfect illustration but I hope it helps.

Here's a bigger one: Impatience for revival. Christians should long to see this nation cry our 'Jesus is Lord!' After all, he is. So why won't God bring revival? As usual, God is not the problem. We need to be content in our current situation, getting our heads down to do the good works God has prepared in advance for us to do. And we need to have the grace to realise that revival is God's work? God wants his glory on earth far more than we ever do - and he will do it in his time, not ours. So let's pray for the God's spirit to helps us be patient, content and filled with God's grace this week.

The Legacy of Cornelius

The discussion of Cornelius has provoked some useful and interesting discussions on the comment boards, so I thought it would be worth giving this area one more segment before shuffling off and moving on - and I've clearly been unclear in what I've been trying to say.

The original thought was that an observation that Cornelius the Centurion became a Christian in Acts 10 - and that it would be tough to be a Christian in the Roman army, an army that served an emperor who claimed divine status as well as dishing out crucifixions. But there is no evidence that Cornelius was required to leave active service. He would however need support, Bible teaching, prayer and thoughtful engagement, and most of God's spirit, to know how to do a difficult job which may involve doing things he would not like to do - which may or may not involve point-black refusal to obey orders.

This sparked my question about 'tainted' professions. Are there any? What jobs are off-limits for Christians and what jobs are not? Some comments in previous blogs have mentioned working for British Aerospace and William Hill. (In fact, a very robust defence was mounted for working in the Defence industry - although I frankly think they can defend themselves. Ha ha. (Come on, I'm writing this on a Friday afternoon))

For myself, I am a sitcom writer and I get asked by Christians a lot - "Isn't it hard to work in comedy and be a Christian?" The question underlying this is "Yikes, loads of comedy on TV is filthy and full of swearing. How could you ever write that as a Christian?" Certainly, I write characters who do and say things that I would never do or say. It's called fiction, not a medium evangelicals relate well to. When a sitcom character of mine blasphemes or commits adultery, am I guilty of it? Or am I no more guilty than a civil servant in the Ministry of Defence when a stray British missile lands on a school in Basra? Is the lady who works in Ladbrokes complicit in the addiction of many to gambling?

In the sort of evangelical church I go to, the ideal occupation to have is that of a doctor or teacher - since they are self-evidently good professions that help people. But how should a doctor respond to colleagues who carry out abortions - when they are both paid by the same Primary Care trust? How should a teacher respond when she is told to teach all religions as quality valid and true?

Moreover, does it make a difference when you become a Christian? Certainly that makes a difference in marriage - if you become a Christian when you're already married, you do not divorce an unbelieving spouse. But it would be very unwise to take a non-believing spouse if you are a Christian.

So, I have little to propose. I suspect I need to go off and read some more John Frame on Multi-perpsectivalism. What I am saying is that I run into three reactions to this debate which are all wrong. They are:

1. Retreat - this is the Fundamentalist view of cultural retreat and the quest for purity and holiness. This is why people end up being Amish, I guess. The pursuit of holiness and the desire not to be complicit in the sin of the world can drive you into isolation. I just don't see this attitude in Christ - who associated with tax collectors and sinners. I don't see this in Paul who would preach the gospel to anyone. I don't see this in Daniel and Joseph who ran vast pagan empires on behalf of sporadically vile emperors.

2. This is the "Don't worry about it" view which goes like this: There are plenty of evangelicals who see no link between their job and their faith. Your job pays the bills and supports the family. And means you can give to your church too. As long as you're obedient to your boss and stay out of trouble, what's the problem? Sure, the world is corrupt, but what can you do about it? Eventually, it'll all come crashing down and God will make all things new." This is clearly a disastrous way of thinking. Firstly it effectively says any job you do is okay regardless of it's effect on society, other people or your own personal godliness. And secondly, it compartmentalise your life and only allows God into some parts and not others. God is Lord of all - of every patch of earth and every second of your life. We seek to obey him always. This is where we need some applied theology, apologetics and humility to admit where we've been going wrong.

3. We get out the marker pen and start 'labelling' careers. Some jobs are approved by an Evangelical consensus and some are not. Healthcare - generally fine. Teaching - even better. Charitable sector - ideal. Law - a necessary evil. Tobacco & gambling industry - not good. Arms trade - bad. Army - fine. (Worh that one out) Media - questionable. News - can be okay. Entertainment - bit of a waste of time. Banking - okay (until recently). We rely on a gut reaction about how that industry makes us feel, and we evaluate their job on that basis. This won't do. We need deep thinking all areas of work.

Evangelicals in Britain hover between 2 and 3. And this explains why barely a single Christian I meet had an idea about how to respond to their work, how to be godly in a variety of situations - or even why they bother to get out of bed in the morning (since they believe that professional pride is probably wrong). Perhaps my judgement has been too coloured by my own experience in which I've had to go out and find a theology of my own work. I'd be interested to hear about the experiences of others.

Cornelius, the continuing story…

It’s worth thinking about Cornelius for a little longer. And it’s worth speculating on what happened next. Cornelius welcomes Peter into his house, Peter preaches the gospel, the Holy Spirit is poured out and Cornelius becomes a Christian.

What happened the next day? Back to work for Cornelius. As what? A centurion. He commands 80 or so well-armed, highly trained killers who not only crucify criminals but do the bidding of an emperor who is considered to be a god. That’s going to be tough to do as a Christian. There is no question of Cornelius leaving his job – apart from anything else, he has probably taken an oath to serve in the army for fifteen years or more. He is not at liberty to throw in the tunic.

How would Cornelius get on in a 21st Century church? Not well, I think. In fact, he would be very quickly judged – in a way that might be more of an equivalent of a Jew/Gentile divide. What is Cornelius’ equivalent today? It probably isn’t a soldier in the British Army. We like to think that the army is dirty work but someone has to do it, and our brave boys are trying to bring order and democracy to the world’s troublespots. Cornelius is probably more akin to someone who works for an arms dealer, or a defence manufacturer (although one can’t help but notice that most of the weapons made by the ‘defence’ industry are designed to kill, not prevent death). What if someone in your congregation worked for a firm that made Stinger Missiles? Or assault rifles (the non-UK Army ones)? This person would viewed with suspicion and, I think, deemed to be ‘a sinner’.

So it is with renewed poignancy that I think about the film Thank you for Smoking – about a lawyer who is a spokesman for the Tobacco Industry. He regularly dines with lobbyists from the Gun and Alcohol lobby. The point is that it’s not a sin to smoke, own a gun or have a drink, but you’d never think that given the way we, especially the church, view the employees in those industries. And yet civil servants, who work for a self-serving, self-perpetuating, self-regarding political elite, are cut a lot of slack. So are doctors, who work in hospitals where abortions are carried out. So are teachers, who work in school which deny the gospel or preach relativism. This is a gross double-standard.

If Cornelius walked into your church and said ‘Hey, I’m a Christian and I manage a factory that makes armour-piercing bullets,’ what would you say to him? Especially if he was more comfortable about his job than you were?

(In many churches that I know of, a man of Cornelius’s abilities would be talked out of his workplace and into ministry – why may or may not be the right thing to do...)

Cornelius the Centurion

I'm preaching on Cornelius the Centurion on Sunday (Acts 10). The thing that we find difficult to get our Western heads around, I think, is the Jew/Gentile divide. Are there any modern day parallels for this - both in the church, and the Western World at large? Most metaphors break down, not least because the Jew/Gentile divide was so entrenched that it was deemed acceptable and shrugged off as the way of the world. In these egalitarian, democratic times, everyone is treated with equal dignity and respect - and this is surely a great blessing and a gift from God. (Naturally we fall off the horse the other side and push egalitarianism to its conclusions and say things like men and women are not just equal but the same, which is anthropocentric hocum).

As I was turning this idea over in my mind, I came up with one similarity that was at least interesting, but may ultimately prove too distracting for a sermon. The key was that Cornelius was a respectable and religious man. He prayed, and was deemed to be pious, but he had a bigger problem that he could not shake off. He was Roman. One can almost imagine the scene at the local synagogue as Cornelius pops his head round the door (but never actually goes in). He gets friends waves and smiles, but as he goes, the regulars of the synagogue say "There goes Cornelius. Lovely chap. Generous and religious. Such a pity he's a Roman."

Sadly the parallel I can think og involves the Jews being on the receiving end of this patronising, and segregating, treatment. The anti-semitism that ran through Europe in the 1930s (in Austria, Poland, Russian, Holland, France as well as Germany) would have lead to many similar conversations. Imagine two card-carrying Nazis talking to each other about their Jewish doctor who does everyting possible to be considered a German. "What a learned man. Funny too. And such a good doctor. Pity he's a Jew." The horrid reality was the the Jews could never cross over to be considered a true German, just as a pious Gentile in Palestine 2000 years earlier could never be considered one of God's people. In Cornelius, we see that the rules have changed. All are welcomed in the throne room of God - and every tribe and tongue will be there singing praises on the last day.

At my last church, I'm pleased to say I experienced a foretaste of that international unity, worshipping God alongside people from Malaysia, Australia, France, Singapore, USA and South Africa (which is the norm in London churches). It is the gospel that unites. The gospel brings people together. The tree of life in the New Jerusalem has leaves which heal the nations. The memory of the crusades, then, should still cause us great pain, rather than be a rhetorical annoyance in a debate with a non-Christian. The gospel can unite people of every nation - and will one day unite the nations. Don't back the UN to do this, but the Gospel of Christ.

Pulling up the Ladder

Some Dilbert for the end of the week...


I've just realised my blog isn't wide enough - so click it and go the website for the final pic!

Get an Architect and Start Again

My good friend Andy tells the story of his visit to a seal sanctuary in the South West. He took his wife and kids there while on holiday and overall they were overwhelmed with disappointment. The seals lived in concrete-lined pools and looked depressed. The whole atmosphere of the place was clearly not what it once had been. He was offered a feedback form as he left and wrote the most damning possibly criticism - but arguably the most useful. He wrote this: "Get an architect and start again."

Being told to start all over again is hard to hear. Receiving any kind of criticism is hard. I've been a script-writer for ten years and I still find it hard to hear comments on drafts of scripts. But it has to be done to improve. And a few times, I've thrown a script away and started again.

The reason I'm thinking about this is that I've just finished listening to Marc Driscoll's 18-point talk to Christians in Sydney - about there they're going wrong missionally. It's a fabulous talk, especially as my theological constituency in Britain often looks to the Australians for advice, wisdom and thinking on a whole host of issues from the theology to church planting. (And it's worth pointing out that we have been much blessed by them!). What this means is that Driscoll's talk is largely for us in Britain too - and it's very helpful and a little painful to listen to. (by the way, it's downloadable here.)

One obvious point is that any potential Driscoll in the ranks of Australians will remain in the ranks - since they, and we, grow up late, don't get married 'til later, train for three or four years before ministry and then work in existing churches rather than start new ones. So there is some irony that a man in his mid-thirties is giving the talk that he is.

But rather than go through all eighteen points, I'd like to dwell briefly on his final point about movements and institutions. This isn't radical thinking (and has been floating around in business circles for years) that movements become organisations. Organisations become institutions. Institutions become museums.But it's a great point and it happens in business all the time. Small nimble companies become big exciting companies, which then become slightly smaller less exciting companies which eventually drop out off the business radar and vanish - all of which takes place within a 20-50 year period (if you're lucky). One business book I read said that by the time a company leaves it's original office/garage/bedroom, it's best years are already behind it. Think of all the software and computer giants that were two geeks in a garage and are now sprawling, slow-moving lumbering companies that are being sniped at every day. It is only a matter of time before they fall, or a swallowed up by younger, hipper, bigger companies.

Last week, on this blog, I laughed (and am still laughing) about Gordon Brown's preposterous 'end of boom and bust' statement, which sounded as hollow as Hitler's claim of a Thousand Year Reich. Brown's era of growth lasted 11 years. Hitler's 1000 year Reich lasted 12.

Why do Christians think that churches are immune from this kind of cycle? They are clearly not. Think about the churches where Spurgeon, Lloyd-Jones and Simeon worked and preached. How do their ministries compare to the glory days? Think about the movements begun by the Great Awakening? Think about Welsey's Methodist church - it's practically finished.

There is no doubt that when a movement gets big, it needs to organise itself. But when does that organisation become an institution? What are the hallmarks? And when do we wind up institutions? We think, understandably, that if God used this movement in the past - and the theology is the same, and the leaders are different but do the same thing - why wouldn't he keep using it? And yet it's obvious that he doesn't.

In the Bible, God sticks with His people - Israel. But He uses individuals and groups of people for a time to achieve His ends. Which sometimes involves shrinking Israel, pruning leaders and destroying Temples! Apart from Christ on the cross (obviously), not one single leader achieved everything - from Abraham to Paul. They were all part of the plan. Abraham saw things begin, and it was handed to Isaac and then Jacob. Then Joseph had his day, but the line continued through Judah. David was used by God, but Solomon completed His work, but His dynasty didn't last, being divided and splitting Israel in two. And so on. Why would He not do the same today?

'What would Jesus do?' is always a hard question to ask. What Jesus would normally do, I think, is ask you the question you would least like to be asked. In that way, great leaders are constantly agitating, prodding and challenging us - as Christ did. (And what did do in the temple? Got out a whip. And what did he predict about the temple - destruction) And Jesus then became part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

So it's worth asking what Jesus would say about the movement you are part of. And the organisations you belong to. And the Institutions you favour. And the Museums you visit. God frequently abolishes Church organisations, but doesn't always tell us that he has. The Institution continues but there's no fuel going into the engine. Sometimes, God takes a hammer to the institution completely, and the fragments are preserved in a museum. Given that decline is certain (Anglicanism will perish, as will Google, Microsoft and General Motors, as did Nebuchadnezzar, the Pharoahs and even the Solomon's Temple), the question is not whether plugs should be pulled, but when. And who, or what, will be released to start something new?

And for anything that you are running right now, do you need to get an architect and start again? Probably.

(Philip Jensen responds well to the talk - and criticism of the talk - here.)

More Satirical Thinking

My friend John made me aware of a post on Abraham Piper's blog - which distills ideas down to 22 words. Why 22 words, I don't know. But a few days ago here posted:

Does anybody defend satire biblically who isn’t naturally caustic?
If not, it’s like an exegetical exercise in finding whatever you feel like.

Interesting. It's certainly worth being aware that we can sometimes hunt through the scriptures in order to justify ungodliness. Anyway, I left a comment which said:

Abraham,

I think your initial assertion is a little unfair, but a useful and provokative one. Your statement is satirical, in fact, and could even be construed as offensive to satirists. And because you’ve said something in very short and pithy way, you’ve sparked debate and discussion - and this is a good and healthy thing.

We say it’s good to laugh. But there is no Biblical command to laugh. Laughter is often synonymous with joy - and appropriate response for one of God’s people. But would i be wrong to hunt through scripture in order to find a justification for laughter?

This area is of huge interest to me because I am a professional comedy writer (for the BBC) and a Reformed Evangelical. That puts me in a subset of about three people - because the reality is that the Church is very unhappy with laughter and comedy in general. Comedy is subversive. Satire is powerful. And evangelical churches like to control things in a way that comedy doesn’t allow you to do. (and half of the time, it’s just plain miserable being an evangelical)

Because I’ve received virtually no Biblical teaching on comedy and the Bible (apart from Wilson’s excellent Serrated Edge), I’ve had to go to the Bible myself to find out whether I can even continue as a comedy writer. I’m glad to say I can.

One last point: Christians are often unhappy with satire because it makes people ‘feel bad’. It offends people. The question it’s always worth asking as ‘Why am I offended?’. Usually, it’s wounded pride. What’s the Biblical response to that? Get over yourself… (I’m paraphrasing…) :-)

It’s worth remembering the blind monk, Jorge, in The Name of the Rose, who said that Christ did not laugh. Christ may not be recorded in the Bible as laughing, but he told some very funny, scandalising stories. (and it’s bad form to laugh at your own jokes)

My comment was number 44. Lots of the comments confirmed my fears that as Christians we really really don't understand comedy. So to read all the other comments, have a look here.

A Secular Megastate

Regular readers of this blog will know that nothing irritates me more than claims that a state can somehow be neutral - and that secularism is not a worldview or theology in itself. So you will realise I enjoyed this useful and provokative post from a blog I've been reading a fair amount in the last few weeks. It also refers to a surprisingly good article in the New Statesman.

B is for B*Witched

The theological A-Z of evertyhing continues. A was for Alfa Romeo. B is for B*Witched. Seriously.

B*Witched were an Irish all-girl pop group in the late 1990s. Remember them? Maybe by name? Remember any of their songs? Perhaps not. They were pure pop. Really sugary tunes that immediately pleased the palate without any kind of bitter aftertaste. I personally still like the tunes and have just been seeking them out. You can find them on Youtube.

B*Witched did a phenomenal amount of business for their record label. Their first four singles all went straight into the charts at Number 1 in the UK. In fact, they had a number 1 hit in 26 countries (only surpassed by the Spice Girls). Their album went platinum in USA.

Two things to note about B*witched, then.
1. The speed with which they were dumped by the label. Their second album did less well and that was the end of it. The wheels came off. They went from first hit in May 1998 to has-been in c. May 2002. Four years of fame. More than fifteen minutes that most of us manage, but for a such a successful band, the plugged was pulled very quickly. What do we learn? Fame is fleeting. In some ways, their career as a band was like the three minute pop songs - fun while it lasted, but ultimately forgettable (although I remember the songs!)

2. What interests me most, though, is the image of the band. They were (and no doubt still are) good-looking Irish Girls. But they were very modestly dressed. They were put in denim jeans and jackets. They had a tom-boy image. Being a girl band, they were undoubtedly aspirational for young girls and did not paint an unattainable model of airbrushed beauty. Ultimately, they looked like the sort of girl-band you could leave your daughter with for the afternoon - and when you came back to get you, you wouldn't see the band had put her into revealing clothes and covered her in make-up. Be honest, would you leave your daughter with Girls Aloud? Or the Pussycat Dolls? No and thrice no. Your Christian duty as a parent is to protect your daughter from young girls, painted and dressed by svengalis and pushed out onto the stage to effectively pole-dance for the public. (See pic of Girls Aloud in concert below. I hope this does not cause you to gauge our your eye. I even cropped it to make slightly less vile)

It's interesting that when the band started in 1998, two of the band members were 20 and one was 25. 25? Cowell would immediately advice that you get that old woman out of your band at once. These days, girl bands should ideally be 17-19, but look 21ish - and then you dress them like they're 15. In short, it's very twisted, and an area I would like to keep my daughter and possible future daughters or sons well away from. The distortions of a biblical view of sexuality are too numerous to mention. In short, how is dressing a teenager as an adult-film actress and putting her on stage helping her or anyone? Sadly, we live in a pragmatic, confused age in which middle-aged men will do anything, as long as it works. Does it make money? Is it legal? Then do it. This will not do.



Sadly, B*witched didn't hold onto the denim-girl-next-door-Blue-Peter image. Their wikipedia page as far more raunchy picture of them looking relatively uncomfortable when perhaps things were getting desperate. Why they would dress them like that is beyond me. The band was always designed to appeal to girls, not boys. It didn't work. The plug was pulled and the band members were pushed out of the stage door and were left blinking in the sunlight, in ordinary clothes, wondering whether they had just imagined the previous four years. It might have been better for them if they had. I'm not they learned any kind of lesson however. Edele Lynch, from B*Witched, co-wrote a song on Girls Aloud's first album "Some Kind of Miracle". In fact, what our society needs to stop sexualising teenage girls is exactly that. A miracle.

Juno

A lot of people seem to like the film Juno. Recently I've been asking people if they've seen it, and when I ask them, they normally smile and say 'yes'. There seems to be something cheering or at least heartwarming about the film. I'd also heard about the themes of the film - that a teenager who gets pregnant decides to keep the baby, rather than have an abortion. So I was fairly excited about seeing it when the DVD finally arrived through my front door.

It's always difficult watching films a while after their release and after all that you've heard about them. As a result, I was surprised and amused, but ultimately a little let down by the film.

I was surprised because the film wasn't as much about the decision to keep the baby as I had expected. The film had generated some support among pro-lifers, which had irritated a bunch of pro-abortionists - but Juno's decision to keep the baby is based on virtually nothing. She runs into an anti-abortion classmate outside the clinic; once inside, she finds the clinic rather distasteful; and then when she remembers that her classmate had said that her baby already had fingernails she turns and runs. That was it. Decision made. It was not a difficult weighing up of issues. She did not consult her parents about her decision. She simply informed them that she was having a baby and would have it adopted. They did not seek to persuade her one way or the other. They accepted it and move on. I'm not saying there should have been more discussion of the decision - but was surprised at how little there was given the amount people discussed that issue as a result of the film.

Once I'd come to terms with the fact that the film wasn't quite what I had expected, I was able to enjoy it for what it was - a charming, quirky comedy. Here are the main things I liked about the film:

1. In terms of comedy, the film was exactly as funny as it was intended to be. The writer and director knew where the jokes were, hit them hard and they were funny. Juno has plenty of cracking lines, as does her dad, who can't believe Juno's boyfriend had it in him to get Juno pregnant. The jokes don't feel like wise-cracks, but coming from character and situation. At this point, it is worth noting that the director, Jason Reitmann, also directed Thank you for Smoking, a film I really enjoyed.

2. The film felt real. It had a ring of real authenticity about it that was very appealing and lent the characters great sympathy. I've read a number of quotes from people involved in the film, and they all revelled in the fact that none of the characters were stereotypes. There was not an overbearing dad who screamed and yelled at the guy who got his daughter pregnant. The step-mother was fun and feisty, not evil and manipulative. The cheerleader best-friend was not mean or spiteful. The geeky boyfriend was not overly-nerdy, and was sporty without being a jock. The adopting couple were interesting - the mother-to-be uptight, but redeemed when she put her hand on the bump in the shopping. Plus the father-to-be, played by the wonderful Jason Bateman, who was 38 going on 18, kidding himself that he still had a music career. And Juno herself was a convincing 16-year-old. She is forced to grow up by her circumstances, but she still has the attitude of a 16-year-old, making jokes at the wrong time, laughing off things that are serious - and then being very upset at other times.

But here's the downside and why I ultimately felt a little let down by the film. And it's the flipside of authenticity. Like real life, no-one really changed. No-one learned anything. Ellen Page, who plays Juno, is quoted as saying "Juno goes on a really profound experience. And when you go through situations like that, I feel like you really grow, and through that she learns a lot like anyone would." Well, it's worth asking then, what does Juno learn? How is she different at the end of the film? She goes back to playing the guitar with her boyfriend. The baby's with the adopted mother. The would-be adopted father is nowhere to be seen. That's it. This is not to say that a heavy handed moral should have been pointed out towards the end. But I'd have appreciated some help on finding one. There are interesting moments where characters say insightful lines about themselves, but where do they lead?

In sitcoms, characters never learn. They make the same mistakes again and again, and we laugh at them for their flaws. Films and books contains characters that go on journeys. Juno has gone on her journey - but where has she ended up? Back where she started and ultimately none the wiser.

In many ways, this is part of the films authenticity. No-one seems to learn the lessons on teen pregnancy, which is a product of teenagers being 'sexually active', as the film puts it. In one way, it's great to witness a teenager accept her pregnancy, have the baby and ensure it is well-looked after - without people yelling at her and condemning her in a hateful, angry way. But watching it as a Christian, it's painful to witness a film that accepts that teenagers have sex out of boredom, and when they fail to take precautions, pregnancies happen. And if they do, sometimes it works out okay. This film represents the fact that our society will have as much teenage pregnancy as it is prepared to accept. And it seems our society is prepared to accept an awful lot.

More Great Radio

In times when, without flicker of dissent, the Chancellor of the Exchequer has effectively pledged £700 billion of money the nation doesn't have (yet), we need to work our what's been going wrong. It's unlikely I would say anything more useful or insightful than this radio show/podcast from This American Life. Listen to it at once.

The Subversiveness of the Incarnation

We're back to the theme of comedy. And today, I've been thinking about how the Incarnation is inherent subversive and comic.

Look at the start of the New Testament: Matthew’s Gospel announcing Jesus, the Messiah, son of David. The list contains some Old Testament big-hitters like Abraham and David and Solomon. At some such names Jews could have felt they could puff out their chest with pride. Others would have caused head-scratching, since some names are simply Biblical nobodies. But as the list is read along, one can hear the jangling of bones from skeletons crammed into a cupboard.

The list begins with Abraham who was the father of Isaac. We need hardly remind ourselves that this was no thanks to Abraham, who tried to get things going with Ishmael. And Isaac’s name is literally a joke. It means 'He laughs'. Isaac fathers Jacob, the deceiver – who stole the birthright from his old brother and ran for his life. Then we pass over the fact his sons betrayed his youngest favourite son Joseph who saved Israel and Egypt from starvation. Then, to explain how Judah produced his sons, Matthew goes out of his way to mention Tamar, Judah’s daughter-in-law whom he mistook for a prostitute. Matthew brings in Rahab, the prostitute, and then Ruth, the Moabite . And then soon afterwards we read “David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah's wife,” reminding us that David had committed adultery with Bathsheba and had Uriah killed in battle.

Is this genealogy meant to be laugh-out-loud funny? Probably not, but it certainly would stop the Israelites from taking themselves too seriously. Half way through the reading aloud of Matthew 1, most of the Jews would be looking at the floor. They have very little to be proud of. Their track record of obedience is, at best, rocky. This genealogy is a stark reminder that they can only boast in their God who has dragged them from disobedient rebellion, through slavery in Egypt, and into the promised land.

And at the end of the list comes the great incongruity. Jesus Christ, God incarnate, climbs onto the family tree. The incarnation is, itself, comic. God – eternal and infinite – becomes mortal and finite. Could there be any greater reversal? But even here there is twist. Jesus is born of a virgin. He is a continuation of the line, but does not inherit the sin of Adam. We could spend some time considering the meaning of the virgin birth, but we shan’t. But it is worth noting that a virgin giving birth is a comic surprise.

Perhaps none of this so far is belly-laugh material, but John has one in the first chapter of his gospel. There is no birth narrative or genealogy, but Jesus’ origins are questioned and joked about. Look at John 1:45:

Philip found Nathanael and told him, "We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote—Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph."
"Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?" Nathanael asked.
"Come and see," said Philip.

What a wonderfully funny anti-climax. Philip finds the promised Messiah, the one promised by Moses and the law. It’s Jesus of Nazareth! To which Nathaniel replies “Nazareth? Seriously? Can anything good come from there?” To Nathanial, saying the saviour of Mankind is from Nazareth is like saying the salvation of the world emanates from Droitwich. Or Delaware. And it's a joke. A proper one. And John manages a decent one in the first chapter of his gospel. That's more than some us manage in an entire episode of a sitcom.

Paying for Lack of Government

An idiot with a gun is a dangerous thing. Far worse, however, is an idiot with a cheque-book. The idiot I'm thinking off is currently Britain's Chancellor of the Exchequer and he is the most dangerous idiot of all. His cheque-book is literally a licence to print money. He can spend as much money as he likes because he can eventually demand it from his citizens at gunpoint with the threat of prison. Even in an enlightened, western happy-go-lucky democracy like Britain, that's how taxation works. Pay up or go to jail.

Our esteemed financial leader is about to write a cheque to a feckless, craven banking sector that is currently imploding onto itself. I'm sure he'll boldly agree to take the decision to spend tens of billions pounds of other people's money to try and make this problem go away. It was a problem that was caused in no small part by his prudent predecessor who valiantly promised that the days of 'boom and bust' were over - a statement which has the clanging tone of Hitler's Thousand Year Reich. (Hitler's thousand year Reich lasted twelve years. Brown's no 'boom-bust' era has only managed eleven.)

Why does the government even control a money supply? When was that decided? And on what grounds? The problem with our government is that it simply 'is'. It doesn't understand what it's for. And so it will always seek to do that which perpetuates them doing it. As opposed to something else. Elections loom every five years. Sometimes less. And our politicians are desperate to be the ones in charge. (This is not always for bad reasons. Sometimes it for good ones. Either way, their decisions are not based on what is Right but what will wash with voting populus. The media, for their part, do not help in this.)

Our government, then, is very confused about its role. It's because it's far too busy trying to run schools and hospitals, manage railway tracks, dish out benefits for all and sundry and find more effective, efficient and popular ways of doing these things - or persuading business to do parts of all of the above. HM Treasury website says it's last pre-budget report was about 'Meeting the aspirations of the British people'. Seriously.

What should the government be doing? Er, try governing. God gave them a sword for a reason. They should be thinking about wise laws, writing them down and then making sure the population stick to them. This includes business and banking regulation. This is something the government has clearly obviously failed to do.

Self-certified mortgages were a joke and thousands of people lied to get mortgages based on house prices that were clearly over-inflated. Our banking sector ended up embroiled in packages of loans based on American sub-prime mortgages that, by the time they reached the banking markets, were rated as solid A-grade loans. Solid A-Grade loans? Based on thousands of mortgages on homes 'bought' by people on government welfare payments? The deceptions that took place were, at best, extremely foolish. The bankers were, at best, extremely unprofessional. At worst, it was a deceptive criminal sham worthy of prosecution.

They were exactly the practices that the Financial Services Authory, the Bank of England - heck, even the Metropolitan Police - could and should have acted on. But they didn't. And the government, and Gordon Brown in particular, fiddled while London burned. Now the flames are visible, voracious and very very hot.

Why did the government not govern? There was no incentive to do so when the banking sector was generating billions of pounds of illusory wealth and generating precious resources for the government non-governing services that keep them in office. Why step in when soaring houses prices make the general population 'feel wealthy' despite the fact they're not actually making anything and basing their wealth on debt? Higher prices mean more stamp duty. More confidence means higher salaries that mean more income tax. Higher spending means more VAT. Our government plans to spend £678 billion pounds in 2011. That money has to come from somewhere. Why turn off the tap? You should have turned off the tap, Gordon, because the water stank. The water was light brown when it started coming out. Now the source of the stench is coming out. And it stinks so much it stings.

And who will pay for this failure of government? Wealthy treble-chinned bankers? Lean, sleek stock traders? No. As always its the poor. They are chronically over-taxed, paying a greater proportion of their income in tax, VAT and council tax. They are then encouraged to be ever-more depending on the state as they apply for their own money back in the form of tax credits, benefits and payments (all managed by civil servants on twice the salary of the people they are helping) Did Alastair Darling really think suspending stamp duty on cheap houses would really make a difference to the anyone? STOP OVER-TAXING THE POOR, YOU MORON.

The government should worry less about how to extract maximum capital from the people and get on with governing. It seems obvious. So obvious. But it's so obvious that the government has forgotten to do it. Instead, they're chasing their £600 billion to fund 'our aspirations' when instead they should be raising enough money to govern properly, like what it says on the tin - so you'll need police, law courts, judges, Parliament, prisons and an army if you like. That comes to less than £100 billion. You can make £120 billion just on VAT and Excise Duties. And then you can forget all other taxes. All of them. And the Chancellor of the Exchequer has still got £20 billion left to play around with and you can write whatever cheques you want. Even a £10 billion for a solid bronze statue of yourself astride the Thames. Whatever it is, just make sure it doesn't distract you from the job you were elected to do - which is govern.

Comedy, Religion and Shock

Comedy normally requires surprise and shock. The surprise is the hiding of the conversion until the latest possible moment, which will heighten the incongruity of the joke, thus increasing the shock. If you predict the joke, or see it coming, you won’t laugh as much as if it comes our nowhere. Jokes, then, require surprise and shock.

If you’re writing or telling a joke, you have to keep the components of the joke apart until the very last second. Normally in a one liner, the funny word is right at the end of the sentence to shock you. If you’ve heard a version of a joke before, it’s not going to have the same effect.

Religion is an area in which it is much easier to shock than most. Religion is serious, as we’ve heard many times. The austerity of religious ceremonies can be easily subverted in a shocking way.

This shock is often heightened because some religious characters can be deemed to be ‘innocent’ or holy. Geraldine, the Vicar of Dibley, is typical on-screen Anglican vicar as she is ‘too nice’. This stereotype goes back many years, and appears to hold as true for PG Wodehouse as it does today . It is completely subverted by The League of Gentleman in the character called Rev. Bernice Woodall. She ferociously denounces the sinful vices of her congregation, humiliates them in confession and warns children loudly of the fires of Hell. As a comic character, she relies on the shock. All of this is augmented by the fact that the knowing audience relies the character is being played by a man.

Of course the problem with shock is that the effect wears off. A shock is less shocking when you’ve seen it before. The sheer backlog of comedy about religion, especially that which is designed to shock and offend, means that comedians have to reach further and further. Many are no longer offended by jokes about religion and religious systems. Pointing out that Christians have been extremely violent in the past (eg crusades and Spanish Inquisition) is rather lazy and hackneyed. Satirising catholic priests and referring to the number of unfortunate cases in which they have interfered with children in their care is not going to shock any sophisticated comedy-loving crowd. So where next for the comedian who wants to shock?

One popular tactic is for the comedian can play a persona who has socially unpalatable views. The most obvious example of this is David Brent/Michael Scott in The Office. David Brent has prejudiced views about women, other races and the disabled. He is not a character to be admired, but laughed at. But the politically incorrect comments the character sometimes makes are scandalising and offensive, but we sometimes may find ourselves laughing with him rather than at him. In most sitcoms, the sexist boss or the prejudiced idiot is figure to be overcome and is emphatically not the hero of the show. But in The Office the bad guy gets the jokes and is the centre of attention. The effect is unsettling and the lines are intentionally blurred – which is dramatically and artistically interesting, but morally very complex. (It is worth nothing that Alf Garnett/Archie Bunker had the same effect and was similar in concept by having a comic moral-anti-hero at the centre of the show rather than the edge.)

But now the Office has used shock tactics. Those who follow in its wake must go futher to achieve shock and moral confusion. Step forward Sarah Silverman. Her ‘persona’ in Comedy Central’s The Sarah Silverman Program is almost a celebration of shallowness and callousness. She is attempting to subvert the sit-com for a post-MTV generation who grew up with sitcoms in which flawed heros succeed in the end and try to be good people. In the process, she creates a show which contains the most selfish character imaginable who is very shocking and says very unpleasant things. In one episode, Silverman excels herself by having an encounter with God that would be extremely offensive to anyone who really does believe in God. She is successful in achieving her aim. The New Yorker called the show "The meanest sitcom in years — and one of the funniest”. But there also limitation as TV Guide’s Matt Roush reminds us when he wrote “Silverman reminds us how quickly the novelty can wear off while watching a pixie with a potty mouth.”

On other blog posts we have seen that stories – including those told by Jesus – contain characters who sin and plots that we find morally reprehensible; and that offence is a very flawed way of measuring whether or not a joke should have been made. This is not intended to be a justification for The Sarah Silverman Program - I personally dislike the overall tone that seeks to shock for its own sake and don't want to watch it - but to have a proper debate we need to be aware of the comic tradition in which she stands, what her audience presupposes and what effect she is trying to achieve.

More on Comedy and the Bible

God is, among many other things, a comedian. The only question is whether we are prepared to laugh at the joke. Voltaire highlighted the issue when he said “God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.”

Abraham and Sarah were not afraid to laugh. God promised them children despite the fact that Abraham and Sarah were deemed to be well past child-bearing age. In Hebrews 11, they are unflatteringly described as ‘as good as dead’. On top of this, Sarah is barren and has been unable to conceive children her whole life. God’s promise is extraordinary. Together, Abraham and Sarah waited many years for this promised child, and nothing happened. They tried to force the issue, if you’ll forgive the pun, and Abraham had a son, Ishmael, by Hagar. But God, as always, doesn’t have a plan B. He reiterates his promise to Abraham, who sniggers to himself in Genesis 17:17:

Abraham fell facedown; he laughed and said to himself, "Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?"

Abraham’s laugh is understandable. Sarah laughs in the next chapter for the same reason.

12 So Sarah laughed to herself as she thought, "After I am worn out and my master is old, will I now have this pleasure?" 13 Then the LORD said to Abraham, "Why did Sarah laugh and say, 'Will I really have a child, now that I am old?' 14 Is anything too hard for the LORD ? I will return to you at the appointed time next year and Sarah will have a son."
15 Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, "I did not laugh."
But he said, "Yes, you did laugh."

How does God respond to this laughter? In one sense, both Abraham and Sarah are demonstrating unbelief by laughing at God’s promises. But God does not strike them down as disobedient, ungrateful, faithless goons. He visits terrible judgement on Sodom and Gomorrah in the very next chapter. This is a God who knows how to be taken seriously. But He also knows His promise sounds absurd. He realises that he has completely subverted Abraham and Sarah’s expectations. This is why he insists the child is named Isaac, which means ‘He Laughs’. (Gen 17:19) God gets the joke. After all, he is the one who cracked it. And has the last laugh. God does not respond to Abraham and Sarah’s laughter as Umberto Eco’s Jorge, the blind monk, would have thought. Perhaps Jorge is blind in more ways than one.

The Next Church/Comedy Controversy by numbers

The other day, I wrote on this blog that the Church is not known for its sense of humour. The media are very grateful for this. Every eighteen months or so, a media storm erupts over a controversial depiction of Christ on stage or a blasphemous reworking of a Bible story on television. How is the next one like to unfold?

An unknown comedian, Jonny Clever, announces his new Edinburgh comedy show is called Jesus: The Early Years. In it, Jonny Clever plays the part of Jesus in a coming-of-age comedy about Jesus tricky late-teens, working for his father’s carpentry business, bunking off work, drinking too much wine, swearing and chasing women. He then discovers he’d have an easier life and be more attractive to women giving talks about peace and love than making furniture. And eventually, after getting his material right, he is set on the trajectory we read about in the Bible.

Jonny Clever sends out his press releases in July, and within a few weeks, a journalist picks up on the show, knows it’ll cause a bit of a fuss and say that ‘Churches are up arms’ about the show. Which they aren’t. But they will be by the time they’ve read the piece they’re writing. Church leaders are informed. Some shrug. They are ignored. Some are offended. They are invited onto radio talk shows. The show starts the Edinburgh run. It does quite well. It’s quite funny. Witty in places. A couple of shockingly offensive jokes. It doesn’t get nominated for an award, but does well enough to be offered a limited run in fringe off-West End theatre. Jonny Clever steps down from the role, as he isn’t all that great. Tommy Sharp, the successful comedian and writer sharpens up the script. And Harry Hansom-Famous, American film actor, steps in to the title role. It moves to a larger West End theatre which is picketed by a handful of Christians.

For one day and night, radio phone-in shows discuss the merits of the show. The arguments advanced by various Christian speakers, vicars and pastors on the networks are “that faith is very personal and it’s not right that it’s lampooned in this way.” Also “Jesus died for sinners and lived a perfect life. This play is misleading people and humiliating the saviour of the World.” Others say “This so-called comedy marks the final nail in the coffin of our so-called Christian society with proper respect for authority.” Secular commentators say “We don’t live in a Christian society and haven’t done for years”. Secular comedians says “Comedians need to be able to say the unsayable. It’s free speech.” Others say “Christians should be able to take a joke. After all, if their God is real, he doesn’t need us to fight his battles”.

The debate goes into the second day. A few conservative bishops are ‘saddened’. A few liberal bishops ‘welcome the opportunity to debate Jesus’s life.’ A few theologians give a scriptural basis for the play based on The Gospel of Bartholomew dated around 150AD which details early philandering on the part of Jesus (at least the fragments do if you fill in the blanks). Other theologians say the gospels are much later, like 350AD and are Gnostic.

Then some Christians says “These comedians wouldn’t criticise Islam or Mohammed in this way.” And everyone begrudgingly admits that it’s a good point point. But by this time it is decided that the West End version of Jesus: The Early Years really isn’t all that funny and the initial run is shortened to eight weeks. The show closes. And everyone waits of the same sort of thing to happen again in 18-36 months time.

My overall point is this: Christians need to do better than this. We need to understand comedy, how it works and how we relate to comedy in a multi-faith society.

Some Links

Ros talks splendidly and sensibly about singleness here.

Andy Mason's blog points to a fascinating youtube video of street evangelism that crackles with tension. That's here.

There's an interesting outsider's perspective on the Church of England's comments on the credit crunch here.

And check out Alex Macqueen here. Hilarious.