Dumbo at 70 and the Importance of Context

My son has recently discovered some of the Disney classics (on VHS no less), and so I've gotten the chance to re-live some oldies but goodies (and some badies...). His favorite has been Dumbo, which is now celebrating its 70th anniversary (giving you ample opportunity to spend way too much money on special "anniversary" editions with Bonus Features; what type of Bonus Features could Dumbo have? Director's commentary?). Anyway, I've secretly enjoyed re-discovering this story of the little elephant with the big ears who figures out a way in which he can use his big ears to make a career for himself (there's a lesson in there somewhere, I think).

One thing that absolutely shocked me in watching it, though, is the racial politics that exist beneath the surface at various points of the movie. A lot has changed (thank God) since 1941, and it makes some parts of the movie utterly shocking and embarrassing. One particularly clear example of this is a scene early in the movie when the circus train stops to allow the workers (along with the elephants) to set up the big top. The workers are all dark skinned, stalwart men with blank, dark faces. Blank faces! They have no lines, no names, nothing; they're just blank faces engaged in manual labor (alongside animals!), singing a song about being happy to work. You can watch it here. In 1941 this may have been an acceptable standard (dark skin men do all the work, along with the animals, while the other white characters perform the speaking roles), but in 2011 it is so shocking that I now skip this scene so my son doesn't have to be exposed to this horrific racial chraracterization.

As awful as that is, though, I find in it an important lesson for reading/watching "texts" from different time periods. Cultural assumptions change, and we must account for those changes, otherwise we miss the meaning of these texts. I think all of us would agree that if possible, this scene should be updated, as we are living in a much better world thanks to the struggles of so many who worked/fought/died to show how utterly ridiculous those stereotypes are and how utterly offensive it is to incorporate them into a children's movie. However, Dumbo, for all its blatant racism, is still a great movie, with much in it from which my son can learn. I'll continue to skip that scene, but I want him to watch the movie, as I think it teaches some really important lessons.

When we turn to the Biblical text, though, some people get a little nervous about the same act of translation. Now we're dealing with a text that was written thousands of years ago with cultural assumptions far different from our own. The text grows out of a racially-charge, patriarchal, misogynistic, homophobic, etc., etc., etc. world. I would argue there are scenes far more offensive in the Biblical text than the big-top-setup scene from Dumbo. So shouldn't we be involved in a similar act of translation? Shouldn't we account for the cultural differences (and cultural improvements) between the world of the author and our world? Might we even "fast forward" certain scenes, so that we don't miss the valuable lessons, but we do miss the utter racism/sexism/etc.?

I argue that we not only should be involved in this same act of translation, but we already are. When we read passages like, for example, 1 Timothy 6:1 or 1 Corinthians 14:34-35, we react viscerally like I did to the work scene in Dumbo. We want to "fast forward" these texts. And yet, tradition and notions of Scripture lead us to resist that urge. Unfortunately, they have led us to resist so strongly that we often re-establish the horrific stereotypes and points of view that are far removed from our current cultural setting. And so, as a result, the Christian community becomes a reactionary community, standing as one of the few institutions actively trying to return to certain cultural distinctions that other parts of our society (including parts of the church) have worked so hard to remove.

Now, the other side of the argument is the slippery-slope argument ("But wait, once you start letting our culture dictate how we read Scripture, aren't you giving culture the authoritative voice, and not the text? Aren't you a cultural relativist? I'm okay, you're okay..."). No. That might be a danger if the radical freedom and equality which our society is starting to (very slowly) realize weren't so darn consistent with a) what most of Scripture says and b) what the figure at the center of our faith preached. I'm not making the argument that we throw out Scripture and let society dictate our Christian morality. I am suggesting, though, that our experience with others in our society has to be a part of the hermeneutical conversation, and getting to know the experiences of others, and allowing the voices of others to be heard, can be a helpful reminder that the Paul of Galatians 3:28 is a heck of a lot more authoritative than the Paul of 1 Corinthians 14:34-35.

So, I'm going to keep watching Dumbo, but skip over that one scene. And I'm going to keep reading Scripture, but there are parts I will reject. In reading and watching, and in both cases enjoying, I'm not going to shut off my brain from considering the experience of the world around me in helping me determine what to enjoy and what to reject. Praise be to God that he knew this would be a difficult hermeneutical task, and so he gave me that Holy Spirit as advocate to help me along (John 14:25-31). By listening to the advocate, I think I'll be better prepared to avoid the woes cast by a fellow named Jesus Christ, who got pretty angry with those around him for not considering the "weightier matters of the law": justice, mercy, and faith (Matthew 23:23-24).

The Polar Express and Doubting Thomas

There has been a lot of Polar Express this week at our house. My son is getting into Christmas big time. This movie of course is all about belief, and it naturally provides some interesting parallels to Christianity. I believe the author was a Dutch Reformed man, but I am too lazy to look it up...

Now, one comment on a particularly interesting scene. Early in the train ride the little boy (no name of course, as he stands in for every person) climbs onto the roof of the train and has a great convo with a hobo, played by a particularly freaky version of Tom Hanks. The hobo asks him what his position on Santa is. The boy says he wants to believe, but he is not sure. The hobo finishes his sentence by saying, "but you don't want to be bamboozled..." So we have the classic question of belief without evidence. The boy essentially agrees, standing in for all of us who need confirmation before we are wililng to take that leap of faith. Things get interesting when the hobo asks him if he believes in ghosts, to which the boy replies no. The hobo then says (in some sort of weird low class boston accent), "interesting." this is significant of course because the hobo himself is a ghost, as we soon find out.

So the boy claims to need sight to believe, but when he actually has that (the hobo ghost) he is not convinced. Our senses deceive us, so even with all the visual confirmation in the world, we will never be convinced.

This is of course the issue throughout the gospel of John. Jesus performs a series of signs, from which countless people come to believe in him. The author seems to lead the reader to this view of belief, that visions and wonders can confirm belief. Indeed John is often known as the gospel writer who ties belief to signs. In the end, though, he pulls this rug out from under our feet with the figure of Thomas (appropriately called the twin, as he looks a lot like all of us). Thomas is not in the room when the others see the resurrected Jesus, and so he has no proof to cause belief. Face to face with what seems to be a resurrected Jesus, he still doubts. Jesus challenges him to feel the holes in his hands and side (this is John 20:25ff., by the way). Thomas makes his great confession of christ, "my lord and my god", the height of confessions in this gospel, without actually touching the Christ. In the end Thomas realizes what Jesus has said, "blessed are this who believe without seeing."

This pattern of belief without seeing continues with our hero boy in the movie, as he struggles with his belief as they climb closer and closer to the north pole. The climax comes for him as Santa is coming out to see everyone. The boy picks up the bell and just before he sees Santa he says, "I believe," and then he can hear the bell and see Santa. The boy has shown that vision comes after belief, not before.

In the past week I heard a sermon equating the Christian faith to the belief in this boy in the movie. I disagreed with the sermon and still do, but I think you can see how at a deeper level, the Christian faith is very much the issue in this movie. Faith comes not from seeing, but seeing comes from faith.

This is the problem I have with the Lee Stroebel, Case for Christ types of apologists. The point is not that we must prove the validity of a resurrected messiah to the world's evidentiary standards. The resurrection itself is not a historical event, not in the sense that it didn't happen, but in the sense that it is a break with the way the world works. By definition, therefore, it cannot be proven. True faith precedes evidence.

So, this holiday season, as we read articles about the historical Bethlehem and whether the Jesus story is actually true in the sense that the Kennedy assassination is true, let us remember what the conductor says, the best things are those which you cannot see.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Elmo's Song: The Key to Evangelism?

Among the many things that distract me from working, this morning “Elmo’s Song” is at the top of the list. If you don’t know it, you can hear it here. As Big Bird says, it’s quite catchy. As with most children’s songs that get stuck in my head, I can’t decide whether I love it or hate it. Regardless, it’s on my mind, so it has gotten me thinking about it. In the song, Elmo starts with his ingenious rhythm, inspiring excitement in Snuffy, but jealousy in Big Bird, who longs for his own song. Elmo comes up with the great idea to share the song, telling Big Bird all he needs to do is say Big Bird instead of Elmo. The result is magical; Elmo’s song has become Big Bird’s song. But the spreadable love doesn’t stop there, as Snuffy takes a turn as well, and what began as Elmo’s creation has now spread to many, allowing all those present to find their own voice through Elmo’s music and words. Big Bird then realizes that almost anyone now has the chance to sing his or her own song, simply by following the music and words Elmo has given him.

Isn’t this a pretty obvious parallel to the Christian experience? Can’t this serve as a model of evangelism? I don’t know if we should all be pushing Sesame Street on would-be Christians, but it reinforces for me what I see as a dominant way of spreading the gospel in the New Testament. Take Paul, for example, who at many places decides that what his churches need to hear is not his judgmental preaching or his exposition of Scripture, but rather his own story (his own song, if you will). See, for example Galatians 1 or Philippians 3, where Paul sees in his own past, present, and future a pattern for the Christian life. The lesson, though, is not to go out and do exactly what Paul has done, but rather it is to see in Paul’s pattern the pattern of our own lives. When we listen to Paul’s story, we may begin to grab hold of our own story, and we may begin to see God’s work in our own lives. As Elmo might say, we begin to say “me” instead of “Paul.” Paul’s song is not something we exactly imitate, but it is something that helps us create our own song by seeing our own name in the story of God’s work on earth. God words in all of our lives with basically the same melody, but we each have a story that is our own. Sharing the melody with our name can help others discover the melody for them. Just like Big Bird, people are looking for their own song, a way of understanding or organizing God’s work in their own life. Sometimes the best thing we can do is sing our own, helping them to take our insight and make it their own. Either that, or we can at least have something to sing when we’re gathered with friends around a tiny piano.