God in "War of the Worlds": 1953 & 2005

Permit me a detour into pop culture…

I saw last night for the first time at a parishioner’s incredible home theater. Edge of your seat action. Great visuals. Really enjoyed it.

My foray into movie reviewing here is to point out how the church functions in this version of the story as compared to the great 1953 George Pal version of the same story. (There are obvious nods to the original film in Spielberg’s version – the alien telescope and the dead alien at the end – but in reality it is a different movie. The voice over narration at the end and beginning of each was almost identical, but the similarities in plot end there, it would seem.)

In the George Pal version, the church and its ministry is featured quite prominently. One of the significant characters, you will remember, is Sylvia’s rabat wearing minister uncle, bravely facing the Martians armed only with a Bible (actually looked more like a BCP, in my opinion) and the 23rd Psalm.

Later in the film, the scientist hero of the piece and the presumptive romantic interest, Sylvia, take refuge in a church. (We actually see inside several churches. Each is treated with respect in the film, with heroic moments of clergy praying in the midst of crisis. That people would seek refuge in the church is natural and understandable. Indeed each is packed.) The critical moment comes when the church in which our scientist protagonist and Sylvia are taking refuge is attacked by the Martians. It is precisely at that moment that the invaders begin succumbing to terrestrial viruses and bacteria.

In essence, attack the church and God is going to get you.

In the final scene, as God is given credit for defeating the Martians, the strains of “O God, our help in ages past” is offered as a paean of praise to the Lord who saved them. And the entire context suggests that it is no generic god that saves the world, but the Christian one.

Now fast forward to 2005.

There is only one scene in which a church is featured. Early in the movie, as the aliens (not sure now where they are from) emerge from under the ground in their long hidden tripods (al Qaida sleeper cells??) we see a church as the backdrop of this first attack. It is empty and is soon ripped apart by the fissures created in the pavement by the ascent of the alien craft. The steeple falls, and soon ungodly destruction is unleashed.

In the ensuing action, no prayers are uttered. And the mention of god only returns with the voice over at the end. But now the context has emptied of the specificity of the 1953 film. A generic and rather deistic god provides the micro-organisms that wind up defeating the invaders. We win by “earning” the right to survive by billions of deaths over our sorrowful history through the evolution of immunities. A sort of evolutionary pelagianism.

I don’t imagine that Spielberg or the screenwriters had any intention of making a science fiction meditation on “Dover Beach” and the receding tide of faith. But they have.

Now, if we take science fiction movies as reflections of the socio-political hopes and fears of the age (as I generally do), then what lessons can we draw from these two films?

In the 1953 version God and the church are the true refuge and salvation in a world threatened by another Red Empire. Both military strength and scientific excellence are insufficient to face the threat. The Christian faith is central in facing the crisis of the age.

Now in 2005 it would seem that religion or “spirituality” is something that pertains to the placid season before the crisis. When the crisis of the age ensues, our religion is the first luxury that is discarded. And while the military is insufficient to the threat (science is absent in this film), we face the crisis through an almost animal will to survive. Persistence in the face of insuperable obstacles is what saves the day. And this will to survive may call us to descend below human decency. While in 1953 there was only one mob scene where human decency is discarded, 2005 is in many ways one long mob scene. We beat the bastards by outlasting them, no matter what it takes.

What are the implications? I’d be interested in hearing people’s thoughts.

"What's your theological worldview?"

Should have seen this coming -Peregrinator

You scored as Roman Catholic.
You are Roman Catholic. Church tradition and ecclesial authority are hugely important, and the most important part of worship for you is mass. As the Mother of God, Mary is important in your theology, and as the communion of saints includes the living and the dead, you can also ask the saints to intercede for you.

Roman Catholic
89%
Neo orthodox
82%
Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan
79%
Emergent/Postmodern
46%
Charismatic/Pentecostal
36%
Reformed Evangelical
36%
Classical Liberal
21%
Fundamentalist
21%
Modern Liberal
11%

Perhaps it is that elusive 11% that keeps me on this side of the Tiber.

Drawing the Line

My good friend Moderate responded very thoughtfully to my comments to him in which foxhole to die in with the question on where to draw the line in the current debate. Several very significant points are made and I wish to take them one by one.

He writes in his first paragraph:

Of course my quote intended to question whether or not it is possible to draw
the line after homosexuality somewhere. As I said I know at least two folks who
are orthodox in every respect but happen to be gay. Both are desperately seeking
a way to reconcile their beliefs (even beliefs on the sanctity of traditional
marriage and its relation to the Christ's love for the Church) with their sexual
orientation. I would love to find such a reconciliation, but cannot, leaving my
friends and me in a difficult spot.

I understand (I think) what you are attempting to suggest. In essence, you wish to say that we will grant you some latitude in sexuality, but we will hold firm with Christology, soteriology, and other aspects of creedal orthodoxy. Indeed, it is a tempting option. (And, like you, I have friends that fit into that category.) But this raises several issues itself.

First, orthodoxy entails an entire hermeneutic and theological vision, not just discrete doctrines bundled together. My concern has been that in order to get me to a place where the revisionists want me I have to employ a theological method that is actually corrosive of the very orthodoxy I seek to affirm. That was the point of my post “are we wrong?” This is not to say that there are some very wonderful Christians who hold to this position, but I still maintain that the unintended consequences for the church will be devastating.

Second, let us grant for the sake of argument that we will draw the line “after homosexuality.” Now we have to raise the slippery slope question. Where do we draw the line? I remember that Fleming Rutledge gave what she intended as an orthodox and irenic address after General Convention ’03 trying to moderate in just the ways that you would. Her suggestion was (as I remember it, and I do apologize if I misrepresent her) that we would continue to hold up heterosexual marriage as normative for Christian sexual existence, but for pastoral reasons tolerate (my word here, I don’t remember hers) gay and lesbian relationships within the church without making them equal with marriage. Blessings of gay couples would be understated affairs, perhaps in the pastor’s office, with no language suggesting that they are married. But neither would there be discrimination against gay and lesbian people in parish life.

It is a noble attempt to draw a line, but one that cannot satisfy those with same-sex attraction. A sort of Plessy vs. Ferguson approach.

On the other hand, we have folks like the MCC (and compatriots in ECUSA) who suggest that there is more than one way to understand “faithful, lifelong relationship.” That is, that genital exclusivity is not intrinsic to monogamy, but refers to emotional honesty and intergrity. As evidence let me present this comment from a review of a book on same sex unions by Presbyterian ethicist Marvin Ellison:

He thinks “a lively debate is needed,” for instance, on whether marriage
should
now be redefined to recognize “polyamorous” people, those involved
with
“multiple partners.”

He wonders, “How exactly does the
number of
partners affect the moral quality of a relationship? … Could it be
that limiting
intimate partnerships to only two people at a time is no
guarantee of avoiding
exploitation?”

Besides pondering marriage
for bisexuals, he protests that the narrowly “bipolar” definition of marriage
excludes “intersexuality, transgenderism, transsexuality and other sexualities.”