1. I think we often underestimate the horror/sci-fi genre. I recently watched The Fourth Kind, a film about alien abductions starring the equally underrated Milla Jovovich. The film is fairly unique in that its aim is to present itself as a direct portrayal of actual events by interspersing 'actual footage' and 'real audio' compiled from various events surrounding a series of fourth kind encounters in the city of Nome, Alaska. Often, 'actual' and 'dramatized' scenes are shown on screen simultaneously. Jovovich even appears on screen at the beginning of the film, giving a sort of public service disclaimer:
I'm actress Milla Jovovich, and I will be portraying Dr. Abigail Tyler in The Fourth Kind. This film is a dramatization of events that occurred October 1st through the 9th of 2000, in the Northern Alaskan town of Nome. To better explain the events of this story, the director has included actual archived footage throughout the film. This footage was acquired from Nome psychologist Dr. Abigail Tyler, who has personally documented over 65 hours of video and audio materials during the time of the incidents. To better protect their privacy, we have changed the names and professions of many of the people involved. Every dramatized scene in this movie is supported by either archived audio, video or as it was related by Dr. Tyler during extensive interviews with the director. In the end, what you believe is yours to decide. Please be advised, that some of what you're about to see is extremely disturbing.This opening scene is striking to me in that it really (whether purposefully or not) speaks to the entire philosophical crux of the film. On the surface, when the audience is told that what they believe is theirs to decide, the question seems to concern whether or not they will choose to believe that intelligent life exists elsewhere than earth and that these life forms have indeed been encountered and interacted with.
However, the underlying issue illustrated by this scene is not a decision regarding the facts, but rather, the filmmaker.
2.
As a kid, I picked up slight-of-hand card tricks as a hobby and still enjoy doing them, though I don't dedicate the same amount of time to it that I used to. One of my favorite tricks, and one that consistently baffles people despite its simplicity, owes its success to me, the magician, blatantly lying about what is transpiring without the knowledge of you, the observer; the shocking reveal as the desired cards are produced at the end of the trick is only amazing if you believe that I have indeed done what I said I did in order to get there--and you always do.
The reveal in the film--increasingly intense 'actual' footage and audio--is more than convincing if it is accepted as such; it would take a lot of explaining to describe why one would not believe the conclusion the film logically leads us to. The real question the audience is faced with in the film is whether or not the filmmakers are lying when they say that this is 'actual footage,' etc; certainly the film is much scarier if the observer believes it is. Herein lies the brilliance of a horror film like Michael Haneke's Funny Games: While it has become a trend in the genre to rely on the perceived reality or realness of the events to elicit the desired response from the audience, Haneke bucks this impulse at every turn and constantly reminds the viewer of the interpretive process.
The film constantly reminds you that it is a film, and that it, not you, determines what you see and when. It is without this crutch that Haneke finds a way to freak you out regardless.
3.
I've always had an aversion towards apologetics; at least the kind of apologetics used either to 'convince' unbelievers of the validity of Christian doctrine, or to frame Christianity in such a way as to make it appear 'reasonable' to those who do not adhere to it. Let it be known that I would not reject the usefulness of apologetics altogether; we of course ought to know the Scriptural reasons why we believe what we believe. But, there seems to be a line that systematic theology almost always steps over, where apologetics seems to merely subjugate the narrative nature of our faith to the modern Enlightenment's ideas of how pure (i.e. male, white, etc.) reason can break free of its own contextuality in order to grasp--on it's own--'universal' truth.
Even in this compromised state, apologetics fails in its task of 'convincing.' Christian apologetics consistently (and necessarily) fall back on the Holy Scriptures as their starting point. However, this appeal, while having the benefit of being simple, is nonetheless seen as circular to one who does not accept those Scriptures as authoritative, inspired, infallible, or true. In other words, at some point, traditional apologetics, like The Fourth Kind, require the audience to accept certain notions about the starting point itself. One must first accept that the filmmaker not only has correctly interpreted all the necessary information, but is also telling the truth about it.
So, the real question systematic theology fails to ask, and the question the Church should be a living answer to in my opinion, is not "How can we prove that our beliefs are true?" but rather, "How can we show that we believers (and the tradition we follow) are truthful?" Perhaps the distinction is a subtle one, but I hope what I'm getting at is fairly clear. If we go back to Funny Games, in contrast, we can perhaps see the benefit of not requiring as a prerequisite that those outside first buy into any number of background assumptions that we within have learned how to accept. Perhaps we can find a way to say, "This is not a documentary, this is a horror film. If the Christian faith were as simple as finding the right objective information to prove its reality, then it wouldn't be a faith at all. So let's be up front and honest about what's going on here."
This is why I am far more attracted to the notion of creeds, as opposed to a bulleted list of propositional truths. There is one line in particular from the Nicene Creed that I think will perhaps tie all of these things together nicely:
We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church.This may get me into hot water with my Reformed-leaning friends, but to me, this seems to sit prior in importance to doctrinal tools such as sola Scriptura. I say this because the Word does not hang in a vacuum where any logical person will find and accept it on their own. I think even Scripture is self-aware of this. Here, Paul--perhaps the most black and white, type-A, right-brained, logical thinker in the canon--describes our faith not as an objectively perceivable truth to be proven, but rather as a powerful mystery to be proclaimed. (I would encourage you to read through 1 Corinthians 1-2 once now and again after finishing this article for a better sense of what I'm aiming at, as this passage illustrates much of this perfectly.)
In the creed, we not only affirm that we believe one holy catholic and apostolic church exists, but also that we believe and practice faith in--within--the same. There is one gospel (catholic), and that narrative has been preserved (holy) throughout history by being passed on from those who witnessed with their own eyes (apostolic) the fullness of its mystery. Recalling the transfiguration of our Lord, Peter reminds us to hold onto and embrace this, not dismiss it in favor of rhetorical arguments.
If the Church is to shed outdated notions of how salvation is a matter of using human wisdom to convince people of the truth, we must start by embracing our own identity; a unified, communal identity instituted at the cross. This identity is embodied in the Church, where the many are welcomed as one body, the Body of Christ, into God's presence. The union is not a logical social contract and there are no legal or scientific means to describe or prove what we have experienced in our lives and what the apostles witnessed with their eyes.
We might simply point to the Eucharist and invite others to partake. To me, the Eucharist is the greatest testament to the mystical union that has taken place between Christ and those who want to know him as Messiah. Not only is there immense power in receiving the Body and Blood, united with one another in spirit, but the great mystery of Christ made present adds what I think is a very real physical aspect to our collective identity of being His Body.
This is so much more beautiful and real than bulleted apologetic arguments. And hopefully, by calling the world into this picture, we won't have to rely on fooling them into thinking Christianity is something it is not; namely, some sort of rationalized scientific system. (This is not to say that faith lies in opposition to science; quite the contrary.) We are called to stand out from the world and its systems that have been tried and reinvented ad nauseum throughout the millenia. We hope that if nothing else, we are seen as truthful when with full conviction we proclaim the great mystery of our faith:
Christ has died.
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.
