Friday Essay: Two Sides of an Ugly Coin: The Heart of the Race Issue

This week’s essay is a republication of an article from my old blog.

I hate the idea of racial superiority. It’s a wrongheaded philosophy based on external characteristics of skin color that provides a framework for responding to situations and people.

I hate the idea of racial diversity. It’s a wrongheaded philosophy based on external characteristics of skin color that provides a framework for responding to situations and people.

Often we assume the opposite of racism is diversity, that in order to fight a system that promotes a uniformity of people based on skin color we have to champion a system that promotes a diversity of people based on skin color. But do you see the problem already? Both concepts flow from the same flawed fountain. Both begin with this basic thesis: “the color of your skin matters.”

I’m not here to say we ought to just ignore skin color. Color blindness is equally wrongheaded and still begins with externals and works to a solution with no chance of working. Not to mention it disregards the beauty of God’s handiwork in how he made each of us. We cannot ignore physical traits. I mean, just imagine if we took these principles and applied them to other features? Do you know the color of your friend’s hair? I’m sure you do. Does it matter to you? I should hope not. The same applies to eye color, hair type, nose size, ear shape and yes, skin color.

Imagine a cafe with a sign out front saying, “For Gingers Only” or a school system that segregated people between blue and brown-eyed students. The notion is so apparently stupid I won’t explain why. But on the flip side of this ugly coin, imagine a college club slandered because most of the members have brown eyes and there are not enough green-eyed folks. Or a company required to hire one short employee for every five tall employees. Is this not equally pathetic? In both instances, the starting point is “physical trait X is important” and then proceeds to reach different conclusions. Both, in my opinion, are wicked.

Racism will only die when we adopt a biblical view of humanity. In the beginning, God created man in his own image. As Imago Dei all humans have intrinsic value and worth, equal dignity, and rights. A right to life, a right to peacefully and honestly acquire property and goods. While individualism is often misapplied, here we can see the importance of a healthy Biblical view of the individual. I believe we must strive to maintain a balance between society and the individual, and here both sides of the coin slide to one end of the spectrum.

I’m not dismissing the history of those who have experienced wrongs based on their skin color (this applies to multiple situations and people throughout history by the way) but if we want to heal, we have to move beyond such superficial judgments, to a view of each person as their own man or woman, reflective of God’s glory. Our tribalism is slowly killing us, and unless we find the balance and stop dividing based on skin tone you can expect a continued escalation of racial tensions in our society.

Dr. Martin Luther King famously dreamed of a day when people are judged by the content of their character not physical traits like skin color.  Dr. Luther and I share the same dream. 

“White Christmas”: The Gospel in Unexpected Places

This is a post in my continuing series on Gospel themes present in “Secular” Christmas traditions and content. This essay was originally published on my old blog “The Lion’s Alcove.” 

An undeniable signal that the Christmas season has come upon us is the iconic sound of 24/7 Christmas music stations. In my hometown of Huntsville, there is only one Christmas station- “Lite 96.9”- unless you count BBN (which I typically don’t listen to). This guarantees that pretty much every establishment is playing this station (unless they have their own digital playlist or CDs). There are many classics that float through the sound systems. One of those is “White Christmas”. Sometimes the DJ selects atrocious covers instead of Bing Crosby’s performance but when you hear that warbling baritone voice begin to sing, “I’m…dreaming….of a white…Christmas….” you know that Christmas has truly arrived.

Holiday Inn (1942)

By way of background, Irving Berlin composed “White Christmas” for the 1942 movie Holiday Inn (which is substantially better than the movie “White Christmas”) starring Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, and Marjorie Reynolds. In the movie, an easy-going entertainer named Jim Hardy (Bing) tries running a club that only opens on Holidays, allowing Bing/Jim to take off the other days. The conflict occurs when he finds gold in the undiscovered talent Linda Mason (Reynolds), but his old partner Ted Hanover (Fred Astaire) is determined to steal her away to be his new dancing partner and (eventually) bride. Jim fights back and the result is a movie full of old-fashioned charm and fun. 

The song is first sung when Jim pitches the idea of “Holiday Inn” to Linda and performs it for her with just a piano and the tinkling sound effect produced by his pipe on the bells dangling from the Christmas tree. It’s a sappy but sweet introduction to their eventual romance and to a song that has etched its place in Christmas sounds. One of the best lines from Crosby precedes “White Christmas” and sets the tone:

Linda: My father was a lot like you, just a man with a family. Never amounted to much; didn’t care. But as long as he was alive, we always had plenty to eat and clothes to keep us warm.

Jim: Were you happy?

Linda: Yes.

Jim: Then your father was a very successful man.

White Christmas is fundamentally a song of nostalgia and Jim Hardy is a man who is seeking a simple but happy life, a quest which induces nostalgia in Linda and everyone watching. In the end of the movie (SPOILER!), Linda rejects the lure of Hollywood and chooses instead to marry her simple but loving Jim when he surprises her on the set of a movie she is in (incidentally, a movie about a guy who starts a club called “Holiday Inn”…yeah it’s confusing- just watch the movie, okay?) as she performs “White Christmas.” At that moment, she realizes what she has truly wanted all along, and it isn’t the lights and glamour of Hollywood.  

Nostalgia, as one of my RBC professors was fond of saying, is ultimately “a longing for Eden”. I think we feel this longing in White Christmas. The singer pines for a more peaceful, happier time when Christmas is as it ought to be (in his mind). A Christmas without snow feels somehow broken, lacking and unsatisfying. We all have those Yuletide associations that, if we don’t have them come December, it leaves a melancholy flavor in our gingerbread and an emptiness in our hot chocolate. Christmas is more than our memories and traditions, but we are human and our memories and traditions affect us.

The gospel reminds that while all might not be right with the world in our eyes, God has wrought for us redemption through the atoning death of His only begotten Son, Jesus Christ. He is restoring what was lost. Christmas is at the beginning of this grandest of all coups. So as we revisit Christmas memories and sip our wassail, give thanks and remember that to God our heavenly Father the whiteness or lack thereof in our Christmases does not matter one farthing, for our sins, though red as scarlet, are now as white as snow. And that is the real “White Christmas”. 

All Have Grinched: The Gospel in Unexpected Places

This post is a republished and re-edited version of an essay I posted on my former blog, “The Lion’s Alcove.” This was part of a series I hope to continue, in which I expose the unconscious fingerprint of Biblical truth in secular Christmas traditions. The idea is to see how at this time of year the imago dei shines through and points back to the true reason for the season.

Christmas has its share of villains. We have Scrooge and his grumpy “bah humbugs” of course. And then we have the archetypal non-jolly CEO or neighbor in every Hallmark Christmas movie ever, the legendary Krampus, Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, Hans Gruber from the cult classic Die-Hard, and Jack Frost in the third Santa Clause movie.

But do you recall, the most famous Christmas villain of all?

That would be the vile one himself, the bad banana with a greasy black peel, the foul one, the king of sinful sots — the Grinch who stole Christmas. 

From How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (1966 TV Short).

Dr. Seuss’s classic green monster with a heart two sizes too small that tries to stop Christmas, only to discover what Christmas is really about, is delightfully hate-worthy prior to his transformation. With the new 3D animated version of the story coming out this year, it’s fitting to consider some themes this classic presents. I have not seen the newest film but I gather the impression it repeats the error of the 2000 live action version, which strives to give this character a sympathetic backstory and in so doing misses the point – the Grinch is so evil because he simply is.

This actually goes back to the old question of whether man corrupts society or society corrupts man. Of course, as a Christian, I believe that man is corrupt because of his sin nature, and that since society is made up of people in this condition society reflects that condition.

Which brings me to the song “You’re a Mean One Mr. Grinch.” This is an odd Christmas song when you consider it is nothing more than a list of insults directed at a fictional person. But it is a catchy song and one of my favorites. Listening to it recently though, a thought occurred to me: in the eyes of God, we are all the Grinch. The reaction that the singer has toward the Grinch is but a fraction of the reaction that the Thrice Holy God has toward the stain of sin. And that sin is in our nature (Romans 5:12-13) and corrupts our very being (Romans 3:10-18).

In other words, sin is not something to be dismissed. As disgusting as a soul that is “an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable mangled up in tangled up knots” must be, our sinful hearts are worse. Our sinfulness keeps us from being with God, and on our own there is no way to solve this problem.

But the Gospel is that we do not remain in the state of Grinch-hood. Unlike the singer of the song who won’t touch the Grinch “with a ten and a half foot pole”, our God sent his Son to earth to pay the price for our sins. And by the Power of the Holy Spirit, our dead tomato hearts with moldy purple spots are given life and made new. 

The gospel in the story of the Grinch is that in the eyes of God we no longer Grinchy. We are covered in the righteousness of the Lamb who was slain. And one day, when have been glorified, we will be fully renewed and transformed, and we will never be the Grinch again.

Friday Essay: The (Real) First Thanksgiving

This is a re-edited version of a post on my first blog.
Next Thursday, Americans will be eating a feast of ham, dressing, mashed potatoes, corn, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and, of course, turkey. Thanksgiving is a great holiday that I personally enjoy (with all that good eating who wouldn’t?) and while I don’t admire everything about the Separatists, I still love Thanksgiving. But did you know this was not the first Thanksgiving meal in history?
No, I’m not going to talk about the Jamestown thanksgiving (December 4th) or even the Spanish one (April 31). This Thanksgiving meal is the greatest of them all and the oldest of them all- and one meant for all mankind to celebrate.
This Thanksgiving is very different from the other thanksgivings I mentioned. The pilgrims ate the fruits of their harvest and hunting, the Jamestown settlers actually fasted (which I venture to suggest is why we don’t commemorate it today) and the Spanish….well I like to think they ate barbecue for the first time but I haven’t clue. However, the very first Thanksgiving is a simple meal of bread and wine.
The Plymouth Thanksgiving was a celebration of God’s bounty and deliverance from starvation – good gifts to celebrate. The Jamestown settlers gave thanks for their safe journey, as did the Spaniards.  Again, good gifts and deserving of gratitude. But this first Thanksgiving was not about a harvest or a journey. It was about redemption.

It was far into the evening. In a little second-floor room in Jerusalem, a Jewish rabbi and His disciples were celebrating a great holiday- the Passover. This Rabbi, however, wasn’t an ordinary Jew, or for that matter an ordinary man. He was the promised Messiah, the Christ, God the Son incarnate in human flesh. He had come to redeem His creation and His people, and to begin His Kingdom. But first He must die a horrid death by crucifixion, the worst form of execution in the Roman world. Although He himself had done no wrong (indeed, he was sinless), the weight of man’s depravity would fall on Him the next day. Yet death would not be the end of the story, for in three days He would rise again.

But I’m getting ahead here. That night, as they were eating, the Rabbi took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to the disciples. He said the strangest thing while doing this: “Take, eat- this is My body.”
Then He took the cup of wine, gave thanks, and then gave it to them. Again, He spoke saying, “Drink from it, all of you. For this is My blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins. But I say to you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.”
I’m sure most if not all of you recognize by this point the story I’m telling you. It’s the story of the Last Supper that Jesus celebrated with His disciples. I’m also pretty sure most if not all of you are confused. How is this the first Thanksgiving?
Well, let’s start by examining how the early church (meaning first through the third century) celebrated Communion. First off, a lot different than we do. We sit quietly and think about how bad we are. They came together in fellowship around the table and rejoiced in the triumph of Christ. They understood Paul’s reminder that we “proclaim the Lord’s death” to mean we announce His victory over death and sin. They celebrated in remembrance of Christ as the King, the one who has given us life. In short, for them, Communion was a time of thanksgiving- so much so they called it “Eucharist” which means quite literally “thanksgiving”. It is a covenant feast, an earthly picture of the heavenly Marriage Super of the Lamb.
When we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, we give thanks. What do we give thanks for?  for deliverance from sin, for our Lord’s triumph over death and darkness, and for the new life we have if we are His people.
I believe celebrating the Sacrament of the Eucharist should be a weekly practice in every Christian Church but sadly it is not. I understand not everyone agrees, and I must accept that. But at any rate, the next time you partake of communion remember, you are celebrating the first Thanksgiving.

Friday Essay: German Expressionism and Art’s Relationship to Reality


Scene from Metropolis (1927)

This is another revised version of a short essay I wrote while at Reformation Bible College, on the topic of beauty in the context of philosophy. 


In the early 20th century, a new medium of artistic expression emerged in the form of moving pictures. From simple depictions of everyday life to the fanciful fantasy pieces of George Melies, film possessed a wide range of capability. But out of all the makers of movies in the first thirty years of the cinema, none intrigues me more than the German expressionists. Visually, thematically and musically these are easily the best of the silent and some works stand shoulder to shoulder with today’s production. What exactly is German expressionism, though? This can be a difficult question to answer, but if we limit ourselves to the silver screen (as a unique 20th-century art form and thus the best representation of a uniquely 20th-century art philosophy), we might find our task easier. The basic idea of German expressionism was to portray a subjective view of reality, eschewing logic driven concepts for feeling and expression.

As far as prominent figures go, I will focus on Fritz Lang, whose films I have more than once enjoyed. Lang’s masterpieces such as Metropolis (1927), Die Nibelungen (1924), Frau im Mond (1929) and his one sound film of note, M (1931, starring Peter Lorre) all brilliantly showcase the cinematic results of the expressionistic philosophy. Another classic example, though not from Fritz Lang, is The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) by director Robert Wiene. All of these rely heavily on core elements of the expressionistic ideal which I will discuss in greater detail shortly.

I hope in looking at the basic worldview of the expressionists and at how that worldview drives their creativity, to show that art can sometimes best reflect reality by not replicating it but interpreting it.

The Method of German Expressionism

The worldview of German Expressionism may be summarized as follows:

The Expressionist, more or less ignoring historical truth, wished to pierce the outer shell of ordinary reality and descend from surface to depth, from appearance to essence, with the intention of subsequently projecting that core, in a highly condensed and concentrated form and with the utmost intensity, back into external reality, causing the latter to be- or at least to appear- distorted. appear–distorted.  [Ulrich Weisstein, “German Literary Expressionism: An Anatomy.” The German Quarterly 54, no. 3 (May 1981): 265]

In other words, German expressionism can be understood as three movements, first from the outer to the inner, the inner formulation of the outer, and lastly the projection of that inner formulation. Expressionists concern with the powers of darkness and “the people trapped by their environment” (John S. Titford, “Object-Subject Relationships in German Expressionist Cinema,” Cinema Journal 13, no. 1 [Autumn 1973]: 21, 24.) was the primary inner experience through which they processed reality and thus projected back again. This often resulted in distorted sets achieved by lighting and decor to create a catastrophic, threatening world.  In summation, their aesthetic was often a dark one, but not without echoes of hope, I should add. Lang’s Metropolis ends on a triumphant note, but it is a hard-won victory.

A second major aspect of the expressionist method was their use of object-subject relationships (Titford, 18). Anthropomorphism is a common element, with inanimate objects coming to life; on the other end, humans take on the characteristics of objects. Again Metropolis provides examples. The workers of the city who work the machine are themselves parts of the machine. The machine itself, however, is personified in Freder’s mind when it appears like the ancient deity Molech, a consumer of human sacrifice. Thus the parallel that Lang intends is complete.

We see that the division between organic and inanimate objects are torn down in expressionist cinema as characters have their humanity subsumed to abstract concepts they represent.

The Takeaway

We have to recognize that art cannot depict reality with absolute objectivity and accuracy. German expressionism says that art then shouldn’t be concerned with accurate replication but with capturing and expressing the subjective experience.

I find this a needed balance to sheer descriptive art. The beauty of expressionism is that it wants to portray the world inside the characters by making their inner world the world we see. While there is a subjective foundation, it is a recognition of subjective perception, not an attempt to make all reality so. After all, the subjective experience of the character becomes the objective image seen by the consumer. Expressionism definitely makes a valid point, and while I may not be entirely in agreement with the philosophical grounds, I embrace the results which not are not only magnificent works in their own right but have influenced art that came after.



Titford, John S. “Object-Subject Relationships in German Expressionist Cinema.” Cinema Journal 13, no. 1 (Autumn 1973): 17-24.
Weisstein, Ulrich. “German Literary Expressionism: An Anatomy.” The German Quarterly 54, no. 3 (May 1981): 262-83.