A sad farewell. A fond farewell.

Omar Sharif has passed away, for which I feel a genuine sadness. Which is strange to me, because with all the horrible things to be sad about in this world, why would the passing of a complete stranger affect me? I think it's because of how we were introduced.

I remember feeling absolutely mesmerized as he made his entry to the film "Lawrence of Arabia." It is one of the greatest entries of a character in a movie ever filmed. Who has ever taken longer to enter a film (and I've read that David Lean wanted it even longer but was talked out of it)? 

His entry left me stunned not only because of the wonderful drama of it, but because of how gutsy it was to film for that long without a word spoken as Omar gradually grew from a speck to a fuzzy mirage to a solid form that gradually became a recognizable man. And as that man entered, he entered with a force of principle that left one man dead and another man aghast. 

But it didn't take long for Omar to shift from menace to ally to friend, until he made his exit from the film, disappearing into the darkness, in tears. 

As any of my friends know, this movie has made a significant impression on me, and I am thankful to Omar Sharif for his part in that.

© 2015 by Ken Peters

A lesson even Dirty Harry knew...

I've already admitted that God spoke to me from one of Arnie's Terminator movies, as well as from Sly in one of the Rocky movies, so why wouldn't He be able to from Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry? It was just the other day, as I flicked on the TV and caught the last 20 minutes or so of Magnum Force, that I heard Clint growl a line that left me wondering if God had me in His sights.

It was a simple line, and one that I at first dismissed even though I couldn't help but feel provoked by it. Take a listen to this brief clip...

I don't know about you, but I often can't resist comparing myself to others in my line of work only to be left feeling discouraged at how inadequate I perceive myself to be compared to how amazing they seem to be! It's like I believe that, in order to feel truly adequate or acceptable, I have to be as good as whoever I'm tempted to compare myself to at whatever they do well at. And since I know some very gifted pastors, that can leave me feeling pretty useless at times! And not only useless, but exhausted as well after wasting time trying to excel at things that aren't my areas of strength. Of course, it also reflects a definite lack of humility as I try to be some kind of Superman rather than celebrating the diversity of strengths within the team of pastors around me.

So that's why I think it's important to heed Harry Callahan's advice in the above video. And that's why I also think that Paul wrote in Romans 12:3-4, "For by the grace given to me, I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them..."

We all have a unique measure of faith and grace, and each of us has a different spiritual gift mix according to that grace. That means that we need one another as each of us brings our strengths to help with things in areas in which some of us feel weak. And that means we can appreciate each person's contribution, unthreatened by how much better others are at things we don't do so well. 

After all, as much as God calls us to believe Him to do miracles through us, the only way to avoid the petty jealousies that can arise as God uses specific people to do those miracles, is to get to know our limitations – and to be grateful that others have the strengths to make up for them.

© 2011 by Ken Peters

The appeal of heroes

Rotten Tomatoes has a list of the most anticipated movies for 2011. What a list. What is it that attracts us to all these movies with such highly unrealistic, larger-than-life characters who save the world from all those wantonly evil villains out there?

I know I might see a few of those movies, and yet I feel a little guilty about it. I think that the reason I'm interested in some of them is because of the thrill ride they can be. And when done well, they can also provide such a sense of satisfaction in how they show an underdog-turned-superhero pulverizing an horrifically evil and egotistical bad guy (even if -- or maybe especially if -- the hero is a little bit flawed himself).

But I think the reason I feel a bit guilty about liking such films is because I wonder how much there's some kind of replacement-theology going on out there? What I mean is, I wonder if -- in the absence of people's convictions regarding a God who wants to save them amidst the obvious troubles of this world -- people feel the need to invent their own saviours to quell the need we feel for them. And then I go to be entertained by them. Is it wrong for me to find some sense of satisfaction in such flawed saviours?

Possibly, but what I'm more inclined to think is that the true Gospel story of a humble Saviour rescuing hell-bound sinners is such a compelling one, that story writers who don't even know the Gospel story aren't able to avoid re-writing it again and again and again. It's ingrained in us. People love the story of a saviour when all hope is lost, and God has provided such a Saviour! And there's nothing wrong with revelling in such a theme on a big screen. I simply hope that more and more people will recognize who the real Saviour is -- this Jesus who has offered Himself up for us -- and that more and more people in this volatile world will begin to find Him even more compelling than the Hollywood heroes ever could be.

But will they recognize a hero who humbly rides into town on a donkey, only to be crucified among criminals?

© 2011 by Ken Peters

A lesson from Rocky

Here's a clip from a movie that I was initially quite skeptical about, but once I watched it, liked it so much that I soon bought it.  It seemed such a ridiculous premise: A beaten up old boxer who had retired long ago coming back to fight the reigning heavyweight champion (much like George Foreman's career when he won an improbable championship fight at 45 years of age!).  And yet the screenplay is so well-written that it comes across as both believable and inspiring.  Most film critics loved it, and it did better than expected at the box office.

But one scene in particular caught my attention.  So much so that I played it over and over until I had a significant part of it transcribed into my journal.  It's a conversation between Rocky and his grown son.  And for a Hollywood movie dialog, it provides a fair bit to reflect on for those of us who are sometimes afraid of what others may think of us, or who can sometimes be discouraged by adversity.

Check it out... and "keep moving forward!"



© 2010 by Ken Peters

Living for Eternal Glories

Michael Jackson died today. So did Farrah Fawcett. After careers that made them pop culture icons of the 70's and 80's -- each of them superstars in their own way -- they are suddenly gone.

Farrah Fawcett was one of Charlie's Angels in the hit TV series of the 70's, and became a sex-symbol who seemed to remain forever young in our culture's corporate consciousness. And Michael Jackson was the artist who gave us Thriller, Bad and Billie Jean, legendary recordings that immortalized Jackson as "the King of Pop." Amidst the bad press in recent years, what seemed clear was that Michael never wanted to grow old. Naming his ranch "Neverland" after the land of Peter Pan where little boys never grow old, one would've been excused to think that Jackson wanted to be with us forever. But he died at 50. Farrah Fawcett at 62. Both still young as they gave up the glory of their places of stardom in this world.

As I heard the news today, I couldn't help but to think of the biblical story of Daniel. The story of Daniel begins in Babylonia, likely the most powerful empire in the world at that time. Daniel, chapters 1-4, chronicles the life of the great King Nebuchadnezzar, chapter 4 ending with a quote of Nebuchadnezzar. And then the fifth chapter of Daniel suddenly begins with the words, "Belshazzar the king..." It's such a sudden change. And then in Daniel 5:11, Belshazzar's queen is quoted as saying, "...in the days of your father..." She was referring to King Nebuchadnezzar. But what happened to him? It's strange that someone so great would pass away without so much as a mention of it.

The Bible provides a good deal of detail about Nebuchadnezzar. We're told that he was so feared that "all the peoples, nations and men of every language feared and trembled before him; whomever he wished he killed and whomever he wished he spared alive" (Daniel 5:19). He was so powerful, he seemed to conquer everyone and anyone. His "dominion reached to the ends of the earth" (Daniel 4:22). And then suddenly, without explanation, he's gone. Dead. A memory. A corpse. As Daniel chapter 5 begins, he has suddenly become someone to refer back to, speaking of "the days of" a man who is no more. No matter how powerful or famous he was, he couldn't beat death and death took him. And the Bible wastes no words drawing attention to his inevitable demise.

Then the book of Daniel goes on to chronicle the life of Daniel himself, a man who had no desire to live for the glories of this earth. Daniel refused the gifts offered him by kings (Daniel 5:17), and when threatened with death if he continued to pray to God, he very deliberately and knowingly prayed to God regardless of the consequences (Daniel 6:10). Obviously Daniel wasn't living for earthly glories that he would one day lose when he died. Daniel went to prayer unconcerned that it could result in his death because he was living for something eternal -- for the rewards of a kingdom that death can't take away.

I don't know where Michael Jackson or Farrah Fawcett were at spiritually when they died. I only know that they can no longer enjoy the stardom they once sought in this world. And I want to make sure that I live my life like Daniel -- with the glory of God as my passion rather than the temporal attentions of this world that will do nothing to prepare me for the eternity that surely awaits us all.

© 2009 by Ken Peters

Can God speak to me through Terminator movies?

Terminator 4 has hit the theaters. So what, right? Well, I find it of mild interest because of the impact that one line of dialogue in Terminator 3 has had on me ever since I heard it.

Near the beginning of T3, when John Connor first meets Kate Brewster and is trying to give her some context for the crazy things that are happening, he says, "It's just... The life you know... all the stuff that you take for granted... It's not gonna last."

That line penetrated my heart like a laser. "It's not gonna last." All that is so familiar, we don't even think about it -- all that we see around us, and think is so important -- all the stuff we take for granted -- it isn't going to last.

I remember when I heard Connor say that, I was struck with how absolutely imperative and how completely life-changing having that perspective ought to be. And there I was being reminded of it by a script-writer for a fictional character in a sci-fi movie. But it's a fact: The life we know with all its familiar routines and comforts is not going to last. And the changes may come sooner and more unexpectedly and dramatically than we can imagine. So we'd better be sure we're not living for the things that are gonna disappear -- but rather, for the things that are going to last!

I'm sure that the reason that line resonated in my soul was because of how seriously Jesus spoke of the same thing. Speaking of the time before He returns, Jesus said, "For then there will be great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be" (Matthew 24:21). Sounds like some scenes I've seen in the trailers for T4! Those will be days when many valued things that we take for granted will be no more. And that's when Jesus will return, looking for those who have made Him their treasure rather than the temporal things of this world. All of that is why Jesus warns us repeatedly about those days, saying, "keep on the alert" (Mark 13:33), "stay on the alert" (Mark 13:34), and "be on the alert" (Mark 13:35 and 37)!

Are we alert? Or are we oblivious? Are we prepared? Or are we living like everything will carry on as usual forever? Are we focused on the things that are going to disappear? Or are we seeking Jesus? Many years ago, Terminator 3 actually reminded me of the futility of living for what isn't going to last. And my Bible has continually reminded me that I can live instead for a loving Saviour who wants me to live with Him for eternity! That's why I want to live my life focused on Jesus instead of on all the stuff around me in this world.

© 2009 by Ken Peters

Movies that bug me

I haven’t seen the latest blockbuster, “The Dark Knight,” but it has nevertheless stirred up in me a familiar agitation regarding a certain belief Hollywood peddles. I’m not thinking of the usual ungodly themes of wanton sex and violence which, of course, are far too easily accepted by far too many as harmless entertainment. No, the thing on my mind, and what often gets my goad, is the difference between a film that acknowledges that we need to be rescued and a film that calls on us to find all that we need “within ourselves.” This latter theme is nothing less than an idolatry of self that is viewed by the general public as simply a harmless self-affirming “You’ve got what it takes!” kind of can-do thinking. Nothing wrong with that, right? But when such films are imbibed in regular doses, even by those who believe in God, I believe they sow to a societal attitude of “Who needs God anyway?” Is that the message we want to get a good feeling from at the movies? And what makes me particularly troubled is that these movies are often aimed directly at our kids, “Kung-Fu Panda” being a recent animated example.

I’ve grit my teeth at so many movies that have majored on this humanistic theme as time after time, main characters were called on to look within themselves to find whatever they needed to save themselves. It’s not that I expect to see prayer meetings and personal devotions appearing in every movie as Hollywood suddenly starts to churn out stories in which people turn to God for the help they need. It’s more that I’ve come to prefer a story that draws from the “We need a Saviour” theme of the Gospel so that people can see that they actually don’t have what it takes, never will, and desperately need to be rescued!

My angst at the steady diet of humanistic drivel fed to countless movie-goers leaves me encouraged even when movies offer imperfect saviours, especially if they are portrayed with self-sacrifice and humility rather than with the same vain humanism of those trying to save themselves. This is what made Neo in “The Matrix” somewhat appealing to me. Certainly imperfect, and initially uncertain about his destiny, he chooses to leave behind all that is familiar and comfortable in his world to then find his capacity to save others through his dependence on others teaching him. Though I never saw the sequels to “The Matrix,” as sex and violence seemed to become more the dominant themes than the original premise of a search for a messiah, I did find in the original a desire in the characters to look beyond themselves for the help they needed and a self-sacrifice in the hero they found.

“The Lord of the Rings” goes even further. It is an example of a movie in which the heroes were not only those whom the world saw as small and easily overlooked, but made regular mention of an overriding Providence that helped them to find their way. And throughout all three films, there are many examples of how the characters saw that they needed others to help them and how characters made great personal sacrifices to offer such aid. Then in the end, the ones who clearly overcame the great evil of Sauron were the humble hobbits who didn’t even know what to do with the notoriety they received when their mission was accomplished.

Even though “The Dark Knight” offers similar fare as good battles to triumph over evil, we know from the previous movie, “Batman Begins,” (which I saw) that it is with more of a nod toward the hero finding what he needs “within himself.” In that initial film, Bruce Wayne finds his wisdom and guidance and inspiration to become the guardian of Gotham City through the inner reflection of an eastern religion that promotes the same self-oriented self-effort that humanism would endorse. I’m as troubled by this overriding theme in “The Dark Knight” as I am by the violence that I understand to be so well choreographed throughout it.

But even with its flaws, “The Dark Knight,” like many other movies, is a distorted copy of the greatest story ever told – the Gospel, in which Jesus laid his life down to take the rap for a sinful race and to save all who put their trust in Him. And the most common distortion that these copies fall prey to is that the heroes typically save others by overcoming enemies by their strength. The original story tells of a Hero who meekly laid down His strength to save others through His death.

There are certainly films out there in which we can find encouragement in the self-sacrifice portrayed by its heroes and by good triumphing over evil. My concern, though, is that we should be as eager to avoid a film that affirms a looking within ourselves for all that we need as we would be to avoid a film full of gratuitous sex or violence.

© 2008 by Ken Peters

A new blog

This is my first posting to my blog. And as I write this, I wonder, Why another blog? I'm reminded of a favourite film of mine, "Lawrence of Arabia," when a reporter approaches General Allenby at Lawrence's funeral. The reporter asks, "Any words regarding Lawrence, general?" Allenby replied, "What... more words?"

Precisely. Does this world truly need more words? And do I wish to add to them?

Well, I suppose I do, since here I am posting this entry. That's because my answer to a comment like the scripted General Allenby is that yes, in fact, we do need more words. The problem is not that there are too many words in this world. The problem is that too few of those words point people in the right direction. Among the myriad of words sent to us on television, in newspapers, in magazines, at the theater, in libraries and on the internet, many of them offer no real hope to a hurting world. That's what we need more of: words of hope, words of faith, words of peace. Who would complain about more of those words? Who would ask, "What... more hope?" or "What... more peace?" But lest the world still end up with a glut of unhelpful words, I suggest that we need words that communicate a specific kind of hope or faith or peace. Jesus said, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you - not as the world gives do I give to you." (John 14:27). The words of peace that Jesus offers are different than the words of peace the world offers. And the same is true of the words of hope and faith Jesus offers. Jesus offers heavenly words, and those are the kind of words I'm hungry for. What he offers will satisfy my soul for eternity, long after my soul no longer needs this earthly body. It's words of hope like those that I want to add to in this world. Let such words multiply as bloggers all over this planet add words of real and certain hope to the many other words of this world.


© 2008 by Ken Peters