The Burr in the Burgh

Like many Americans watching television on Sunday night at around 10 p.m., I yelled, "What?! What happened?!" At first, I thought my TV fritzed out on me. But a split second later it hit me and then waves of disappointment washed over me.

There is an internet debate over whether David Chase is brilliant or took the coward's way out. I think Chase is a brilliant coward. I can't blame him, but I will never forgive him. What a lousy stunt!? But still, it makes perfect sense.

Like many others, I am sad to say goodbye to America's most likable sociopath. For a series that was known both for its subtlety and its coarseness, perhaps the best end is no ending at all. The very last sound were these words to a Journey power ballad: "Don't stop." And then it stopped. All too abruptly.

Did it stop or didn't it? We'll never know. There were indications that something was about to happen. And then nothing did. But isn't that how life is? Are all the plot strings in your life tightly knotted at the end?

The episode made the point that life is like sitting in a rocking chair. It's a lot of work, but you don't go anywhere. After all the gore, bodily and emotional, we're right where we started. Tony goes right back to episode 1, season 1 with A.J.'s therapist. And just as the first season ended with a family meal, so the finale. Like men lost in the woods, we tend to go in circles. Has any progress been made?

The Sopranos gave us insight into the meaning of life. No, really. I mean that. When the other FBI agent told Agent Harris about Phil Leotardo's demise, Harris smacked the table with glee saying, "We're gonna win this thing." We're disgusted that he responded to the murder of a human being as if his favorite team just scored in a close championship match. Life is no game. But which fan of the show did not have the exact same reaction internally? Just like Harris caught himself, we have to ask, "why do I like this stuff?" What does that say about me?

The biggest question on everyone's mind was who will get whacked in the end? Will Tony finally get his due? The foreshadowing intentionally misled us. Bobby in the boat with Tony opined that you never see it coming when the bullet with your name on it comes knocking. Maybe, he said, it just all goes black. So isn't the conclusion obvious to you now? Chase didn't whack Tony. Whether he knows it or not, he whacked us.

David Klinghoffer clarifies the Iowa State University flap over denying tenure to highly accomplished astronomer, Guillermo Gonzalez, because he harbors unpopular views in this Daily Standard article. It seems that every outrageous theory is defensible in today's academia as long as you don't ever imply a supreme intelligence behind the origin of the planet.

Anyone care to opine about the... uh... unexpected ending to television's most talked about series? Join the blog-versation. Leave your comments. I'll chime in later. Spoilers allowed.

The Scriptures teach: "Indeed, under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins (Hebrews 9:22)." I couldn't help but notice the significance of blood in the temple ritual of the Mayans in the movie Apocalypto. One telling scene has a warrior returning with captives to be sacrificed at the temple. The priest stops him before he sets foot on the most holy place. And the warrior, understanding the problem, cuts his hand with a knife and sprinkles his blood upon the stones before taking a step. I can't say whether the Gibson film accurately represents the theology of ancient Mayan religion, but I am fascinated that so many pagan belief systems understand the principle of cleansing with blood.

Very cool interactive picture here.

Our little buddy was confirmed at Redeemer a couple of weeks ago. I was grateful that Pastor Petersen allowed me to participate as we blessed those little rascals.

The rite of Confirmation is kind of a slippery thing in Lutheran practice. We don't recognize it as a divinely instituted thing but a human tradition that has merit.

Lutherans are not uniform in how we practice confirmation or even in its purpose. Many American Lutherans treat confirmation as a pre-requisite for receiving the Holy Communion. The most common age for confirmation is after 8th grade. Others do early communion and still confirm at age 13 or 14.

The rite itself is not the main thing either. The heart of it is the time spent (often 2 years) in instruction. Many churches still use Martin Luther's Small Catechism as the basic text other than Holy Scripture. The rite is a blessing but is most significant in that it leads to their first communion (the highest blessing).

I like the way our congregation does it. As both a pastor and a parent, I strongly prefer earlier communion. I cannot justify making our young people wait until they are 14 years old before allowing them to receive the benefits of Christ's Supper.

I agree with the notion that a person should receive basic instruction in the Christian faith before being admitted to the altar. But waiting until a child is a teenager, arguably the most difficult period of their young lives and the time when they are most likely to rebel and question their faith, before giving them the Body and Blood of Christ seems strange.

Tomorrow (June 1), seminarian Jason Braaten will become the Reverend Jason Braaten. Jason is the latest addition to our Seminary Admission staff.

We had a bit of a surprise luncheon for him in the office. Thanks to all who helped.

He'll try to tell you that the pink feather boa is mine, but don't you believe it.

The second picture is of our Admission Officers. Going left to right, there is me, Jason, Martin Luther, Phil Zielinski, Tom Zimmerman and John Dreyer (the eligible bachelor among us). Not pictured are the ladies. Why didn't we get a shot of them? Pat Painter, Marsha Zimmerman and Cheri Shoemaker. Also not pictured are the three student workers: Brian German, Tony Oliphant, and Tim Storck.

I direct you to a fascinating review of The Lives of Others by Barbara Nicolosi. She makes an interesting argument for why Hollywood has made so many movies about the Nazi atrocities but so few about the appalling stories of the Soviets or modern communists in Cuba, China or North Korea.

I just added The Lives of Others to my Blockbuster Online list.

In my last post, I recommended Apocalypto, while warning that it is not for the squeamish. It's a great film and I firmly believe, as I said, that if this had been directed by anyone besides Mel Gibson, it would have been hailed as a masterpiece by Hollywood elites and critics alike.

It is simply a gorgeous movie. It's a feast for the eyes. The story is simple but very effectively told. Since the whole movie is in the Yucatec language, Gibson keeps the dialogue to a minimum. It takes special skill to tell a story without having character dialog or narration to explain things. They say a story-teller should "show" and not "tell." Gibson is the master at that. And to truly appreciate the complexity of the story, you must watch the movie at least twice. The subtleties of the story arc were much more appreciated by me the second time.

Certainly one of the reasons that the politically correct thought police disliked Apocalypto is that it is unabashedly pro-colonial. While the Europeans have very little screen time, they are arguably the most important characters in the film. The Spaniards bringing Christianity to the shores of paganism truly are the deus ex machina. The Mayans are portrayed as a society destroying itself, curved inward, unable to suppress the corruption from within. Just when hope is lost, the saviors arrive. This makes every new beginning possible.

In spite of their many scientific and cultural accomplishments, the ancient Mayans were brutal and savage to an extreme. I'm not saying that classic European society was violence-free, but the values and worldview of Christianity shaped Western culture to make it the great and wonderful phenomena it has been, extolling liberty, justice, knowledge, beauty and faith - in short, the peak of civilization.

But what about the much ballyhooed degree of violence? The gore-hounds surely will not be disappointed. People do get hurt and people do die. And it doesn't always happen off-screen. And it is seldom pretty. So for a society that prefers to paint our dead to appear alive and hire strangers to wash and dress our deceased for us, this will shock. But I don't see how Gibson could have shown the peril of the characters' world without revealing injury and death convincingly.

I finally watched Mel Gibson's Apocalypto last night. I'd easily give it 5 stars out of 5. It's an excellent film, though not for the squeamish.

The reviews had made such a big deal out of the violence and gore that I was reticent to see it. But I'm convinced that the movie reviewers who criticized it for that reason either don't see very many movies or still want to grind an ax against Gibson for his Jesus movie. It's not that intense, not compared to others that get critical raves.

Actually, the violence it contains seemed anything but exploitive. I'd say it was necessary to the narrative.

Apocalypto is simply the work of a cinematic genius. The story is powerful, the characters intriguing, and the action is non-stop. Very exciting. Also very beautiful. Gibson captures the sights, sounds, smells and tastes of humanity at a basic level.

If you want to learn something, if you want to feel excitement, if you want to dip your toe into an alien world while sitting safely in your pajamas, rent Apocalypto tonight.

The critics were mixed in their evaluations. Many of them overflowed with praise. Others claimed to be repulsed. I think this reviewer is correct in saying that if any other director had made this movie, the others would be tripping over themselves to honor it. But because Mel Gibson made a powerful film about Jesus (the most offensive man who ever lived), they can't tolerate anything he does.

Is this the biggest pig you've ever seen? Go here.

We've all seen the Hollywood personalities addicted to cosmetic surgery. It weirds me out to see Burt Reynolds or Joan Rivers these days. They look like they're made of wax.

At least Joan Rivers is honest about it. In this telling article, she reveals that many entertainers are actually filled with self-loathing.

What are your thoughts about cosmetic surgery? I'm not talking about reparative plastic procedures for someone with an injury or malformity. I'm referring to purely elective procedures that people have in order to enhance or improve their appearance.

This week, I am at Grace Lutheran Church in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I'm sitting in on a continuing education class for pastors on Leviticus. Our instructor is Dr. John Kleinig, Old Testament scholar at Australian Lutheran College.

He is quite fantastic and has me convinced that Leviticus is - by Christians - the most tragically neglected book of the Bible. My pastor, Rev. David Petersen, blogged several times recently about his experience with this course when it was offered in Fort Wayne.

The over-arching theme of Leviticus is holiness. The concept of holiness is the key for understanding the whole arrangement of worship in Israel and God’s involvement in worship. It has crucial implications for Christian worship as well.

First of all, only God is holy. No one and nothing apart from God is holy. There is no other sources of holiness. How do things and people become holy? Only by contact with God. The trouble is that sinful people who come into contact with God (without mediation) are destroyed, just as fire burns chaff and light scatters darkness. We sinful beings are in need of a means to access God (atonement; Great High Priest, Christ as intercessor).

I am attracted to this teaching, not only because I recognize the scriptural soundness of it, but because I am annoyed by the buddy/buddy informality that permeates much of contemporary Christianity. Nothing is sacred. God is a benign cuddly grandpa.

According to this story, some activists are trying to get a chimpanzee certain legal rights by having a court declare him a person.

So what makes someone a person anyway? We pro-lifers understand that an unborn child - at every stage of development - is a person. What about this creature who shares 99.4% of our DNA?

Holy Scripture differentiates between human beings and the other living creatures by teaching that Adam and Eve were formed in the image and likeness of God. This is said of no other being.

Can one be a person and then cease being a person? Terri Schiavo?

Humorist Dave Barry has this fun take on what is actually quite a helpful little text. Go here to read Barry's review of Send: The Essential Guide to Email for Office and Home.

In The Freedom of a Christian, Martin Luther expounds on how the sinner is justified and united with Christ.

The third incomparable benefit of faith is that it unites the soul with Christ as a bride is united with her bridegroom. By this mystery, the Apostle teaches, Christ and the soul become one flesh (Eph. 5:31-32). And if they are one flesh and there is between them a true marriage - indeed the most perfect of all marriages. . . it follows that everything they have they hold in common, the good as well as the evil. Accordingly the believing soul can boast of and glory in whatever Christ has as though it were its own, and whatever the soul has Christ claims as his own.

Let us compared these and we shall see inestimable benefits. Christ is full of grace, life, and salvation. The soul is full of sins, death, and damnation. Now let faith come between them and sins, death, and damnation will be Christ's, while grace, life, and salvation will be the soul's; for if Christ is a bridegroom, he must take upon himself the things which are his bride's and bestow upon her the things that are his. If he gives her his body and very self, how shall he not give her all that is his? And if he takes the body of the bride, how shall he not take all that is hers?

The other day in chapel, we prayed the litany. One of the lines in this wonderful prayer is our petition asking God to save us from a sudden and evil death.

Have you ever thought about that? Don't most people actually want to die suddenly? What's the alternative? A slow and lingering death?

I have a hunch that this is a petition many pray, but simply don't mean (but never think about it either).

What exactly is the problem with a sudden death? We might be able to understand what an evil death would be, but why do we wish to be spared a sudden death?

You know Shakespeare's Hamlet. One of the prince's greatest sorrows at his father's death is that he was murdered while he slept. They poured poison in the poor king's ear. Prince Hamlet explains that the murderers killed his father twice because not only did they slay his body but by killing him unexpectedly, he had no occasion to shrive himself (g0 to receive private absolution).

Are you prepared to die? How does one become prepared? A sudden death suggests that one has not had opportunity to ready oneself to meet the Maker. I suppose this would be a more pressing concern if I feared thousands of years in purgatory.

A Christian finds great comfort indeed from making personal confession and receiving God's gracious absolution from the pastor. And it is a joy and consolation w/o comparison to partake of the Holy Eucharist. As a congregational pastor, I had the opportunity to stand at the deathbeds of many people and offer them God's grace and mercy. Not only was this a comfort for the dying person, but certainly also for the family.

Should this mean, however, that a Christian who is baptized into Christ and faithfully makes use of the means of grace throughout his life, relying on God's mercy, should be overly distressed at the prospect of a sudden death, as if the eternal outcome were are at urgent risk?

Oh, I was just rifling through the pockets on one of my suit coats and came across one of my ubiquitous notepads. I like to always have a pad and pen with me wherever I am so that I can take notes about whatever. I get all kinds of ideas throughout the day.

Often, I take notes when listening to sermons. This is especially true on Sunday mornings when listening to Pastor Petersen.

Some time ago, he preached on Luke 18:9-14, the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector who both go to the Temple to pray. I'm not going to try to reconstruct pastor's sermon. You can (and probably should) read the whole manuscript here. I just want to share with you some of the disconnected notes I jotted that morning.

• It's easy to hate the Pharisee who thinks he is better than others. We think we are better than him.


• All sins are dangerous. There are always victims.
  


• All who trust in themselves go to hell.


• The Tax Collector was reckoned righteous because he despaired of himself.
  


• The difference between our sins and theirs is like the difference between calling Pluto a planet or an asteroid. It makes no difference. It's still there.
  


• Everyone who hopes for mercy from Jesus Christ receives it.


• The mercy of the Lord endures forever.


• No one who hopes for mercy is denied.
  

One of the neatest things about living on our beautiful 190 acre seminary campus is the waterfowl. Squads of ducks and geese call our little lake home, at least for part of the year. Watching them nest and rear their young gives me a genuine Tony Soprano moment.

People who know me know that I am a fan of director Quentin Tarantino. We can argue about that later, if you like.

So it was almost a necessity that I go see the big Q's latest cinematic discharge: Grindhouse. I have strongly mixed feelings about this project, an ambitious double feature with Tarantino chum, fellow director, Robert Rodriguez.

Grindhouse is really two completely separate movies played back to back with a brief intermission filled with phony trailers. The first half of the double was Planet Terror, a zombie pic directed by R. Rodriguez. I hated it.

I don't mind horror or zombies in themselves. Some of my favorite movies are horror pictures and a couple of them feature zombies. But this one just took gross to a whole new level, a level I -for one- simply did not need. There was just nothing funny or cool about it to outweigh the yuck.

But the second half of the double feature was completely different, the one from Quentin. It was called Death Proof and is your basic pyscho-killer car caper. This movie was a blast of fun. Yes, it does have moments of profanity and titillation, but these are small and peripheral. There is also violence; one scene in particular was excruciating and literally knocked the breath out of me just to watch it. But mostly, it is a red-blooded car chase that sent my adrenaline to the moon. I have never spontaneously blurted, "WHOOAAA!!!!" out loud in a theater before. But I did this time.

I've tried to like Rodriguez films in the past, but have usually been unhappy. Desperado (1995) with Antonio Banderas was the only one of his projects I could bear to watch again. Sin City was OK, but the best parts of that were the story, dialog and visual style which came from Frank Miller. That and a killer cast. I'm not sure how much to credit Rodriguez since the credits list Tarantino as an assistant director. I'm inclined to think that what's good about Sin City came from Miller and the big Q.

Quentin (if you are reading this blog), re-release Death Proof as a single feature. Drop the Rodriguez disgrace. It's pulling you down. Like all of Tarantino's films, Death Proof needs to be watched over and over again (just like certain episodes of Sponge Bob). Everything Q does is a cult film. So if he won't cut himself free of the lousy zombie bomb, I'll have to buy my next Grindhouse ticket, go eat a burger and come back 90 minutes into it.