'Chuck' and the Christian Life

                  Last week I finally finished Chuck, the excellent spy-comedy series that ran from 2007 to 2012. While the show certainly has problematic elements (such as a total embrace of current sexual mores), it also has enough heart, thoughtfulness, and decency to make up for it.

                  The story: Chuck Bartowsky’s life is going nowhere fast. He’s very smart, but he was expelled from college after his best friend framed him for cheating and took his girlfriend, and now he’s working a dead-end job at the local ‘Buy More’ (basically Best Buy with a green rather than blue color pattern) and living with his loving, though concerned sister, Ellie, and her overachiever boyfriend, Devon (nicknamed ‘Captain Awesome’). His free time is mostly devoted to playing video games with his slacker friend, Morgan.

                  All that changes when, one night, he gets an email from his former best friend which, when opened, downloads the top-secret ‘Intersect’ computer – a complete database of all the intel from every government agency – into his brain. The CIA and NSA quickly dispatch their top agents – glamorous Sarah Walker and intimidating John Casey, respectively – to recover it. Finding that Chuck is more capable than he seems, the government decides, for now, to allow him to keep his life while serving as a mobile database for covert missions, with Sarah and Casey assigned as his ‘handlers.’ Sarah poses as his new girlfriend, Casey as a co-worker at the Buy More, and all are closely monitored by the no-nonsense General Beckman.

                  What makes the show so good, and stops it from being merely another spy-movie parody, is the care and honesty it brings to the relationships. A large part of the story is Chuck’s struggles to maintain his connection to his family and friends in the face of his new spy-life. This becomes increasingly difficult, as his undercover activities force him to repeatedly disappoint and lie to everyone he cares most about. As Chuck’s normally a very honest and nice guy, this puts a great strain on him and everyone else.

                  Moreover, Chuck’s “fake relationship” with Sarah also becomes more and more difficult to maintain, both because of his natural honesty and because he’s genuinely fallen for her. The delicate balancing act of pretending to be in a relationship with someone he desperately wants to be in a relationship with is depicted with great care and pathos.

                  This emotional honesty is mixed with a cheerfully cartoonish version of spy-craft; missions that require tuxedoes and dresses, vodka-martinis, secret lairs, glamorous assassins, massive thugs, and super-villains with gloriously silly weapons. The contrast between the down-to-earth, carefully written world of Chuck’s emotional life and the ‘everything-and-the-kitchen-sink’ approach to the spy life works surprisingly well. It emphasizes the alluring contrast between his dull, old life and his exciting new one, while at the same time making us understand his desire to get back to his old life. The spy world may be fun, but it’s his normal, boring life that really matters.

                  Which brings me to the ostensible point of this piece: the themes of Chuck:

1.     Keep Things in Perspective:

                 

             

    

             One of the main sources of humor on the show is, as noted, the contrast between Chuck’s normal life at the Buy More and his more exciting life as a spy. But the really funny thing is that Chuck’s co-workers at the Buy More don’t treat it as normal. Indeed, they take the Buy More at least as seriously as Chuck takes international security. Almost every episode the Buy More crew are engaged in some insane scheme, some inner-store power struggle, or some ‘mission’ to boost their business, which they latch onto with Marine-like dedication.

Meanwhile, Chuck, Sarah, and Casey are off, say, trying to recover a biological-weapon before it can be sold to the World’s Greatest Terrorist™.

                  The point here is an amusing satire of the things we think important – office politics, bottom-line initiatives, group dynamics, and so on – and that really don’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things. So what if the Buy More doesn’t out-perform its hated rival, the Large Mart? Who really cares who gets the assistant manager position? Is acquiring the latest new computer before it hits the shelves really that big a deal? And is it worth being cruel, selfish, or dishonest?

                  Well, no it isn’t. Not in a world where crazy corporate executives plot to take over the CIA via internet. But, in another way, it kind of is important. It’s their lives. It may not be as important as saving the world, but saving the world is done precisely for the sake of people like this. The world is kept safe for Democracy because Democracy means ordinary people like the Buy More crew, or Ellie and Awesome, being able to live their ordinary lives. In a way, you could say that Chuck, Sarah, and Casey recover that bio weapon because it would have prevented such ‘unimportant’ things as the struggles of the Buy More.

                  There must be ‘big’ things: governments, armies, nations, and spies, and they are grand and glorious and good in their own ways. But there must also be ‘small’ things: homes, families, friendships, co-workers, and Buy Mores, and it is for their sake that the ‘big’ things exist at all. A small family around their Thanksgiving table, or a retail storefront prepping for Black Friday are the ends; the CIA, NSA, and so on are the means. If they don’t promote and protect such moments, all the spy-craft, underground lairs, glamorous parties, and firefights are simply a waste of time. This dynamic is a universal part of the human experience, and it is well to keep in mind.

                  On a related note:

2.     Don’t Despise the Ordinary:

                  Chuck’s life is your standard boring, underachieving lifestyle. And yet, throughout the first few seasons, he keeps trying to get back to it, or if not exactly to what he had before, at least to some kind of ordinary life. It is, as noted above, what really matters to him, because that is where his friends and family are. In one episode Chuck finds that his relationship with Morgan is fraying due to his spy-life. When Sarah fails to see the big deal, since Morgan is a slacker and an idiot, Chuck responds with a story illustrating how Morgan has been there for Chuck whenever he needed him the most. It was the simple, ordinary things, like inviting him over to play video games all night after his mom disappeared, which made a difference. Those were the important things, more important than high-profile meetings and international incidents.  

                  The contrast is interesting: the spy-world is glamorous and exciting, but it’s shallow. You can’t have real relationships, only quick flings to burn off energy. You simply don’t hang around anyone or anything long enough to really build memories or friendships. Meanwhile the ordinary world may be boring, but it’s deep. There are real, tangible emotions and relationships here. Morgan and Chuck care about each other in a way that spies, even friendly spies, don’t or can’t. More than once there are scenes where Sarah finds herself standing awkwardly to one side while Chuck mingles freely with his family and friends, looking on wistfully at a world she has never known.

                  Chuck wants to get back to his ordinary life because he knows that’s where his roots are. That’s where the things that make him really happy are to be found. That’s where real opportunity is. He enjoys the spy-life, but he knows that there’s no future there for him.

                  Both Casey and Sarah, steeped in the glamorous, shallow life of the spy, are at first contemptuous of Chuck’s ordinary life. But as they spend more time around him, they come to appreciate it and understand his longing for it, and even to come to desire it themselves. Which brings us to:

3.     The Allure of Goodness:

                  There’s a lovely dynamic in the show: as time goes on, Chuck grows from a terrified, awkward bumbler to a genuinely skilled and intelligent spy. At the same time, Sarah and (especially) Casey start off as cold, cynical killing machines, but the more time they spend with Chuck the more his own honesty and kindness rub off on them. They grow into warmer, friendlier, and more caring people. And they slowly turn from literally wanting to kill each other into honest-to-goodness friends.

                  Sarah and Casey are both long-term spies. They’ve never been around anyone or in any place long enough to build any real relationships. But now, effectively stuck in Burbank, surrounded by Chuck’s family and friends, and forced to work with the same people week after week, they begin to build them.

                  The two spies, who are trained to suppress their emotions, to follow all orders, and to be remorseless and detached from other people, begin, perhaps for the first time, to experience real goodness on a regular basis, and find that they like it. They come to appreciate Chuck’s honesty and gentleness and, what’s more, to desire to emulate it themselves. They find, slowly, that they want to be able to trust people, to be honest and open, and to care about others. And by degrees, they do. They put down roots, they build friendships, they learn to trust and to be honest with one another.

                  In the process, they find that they’re happier than they ever thought they would be. Indeed, in contrasting their characters at the start of the show with the ones they have at the end, you wonder whether they’ve ever been happy at all before they started to emulate Chuck. Sarah becomes warm, smiling, and good-humored; not taking herself so seriously and acting much more relaxed around others. Casey finds himself forging friendships and familial bonds, becoming protective and caring of other people, and developing a surprisingly perceptive ear for emotions, which he uses to give his friends relationship advice.

                  What it is, as noted above, is that the spies, seeing the depths and joy in the ‘ordinary’ world, recognize the goodness in them and feel a natural attraction to it. They want to experience it for themselves, and finding that they can’t as they now are, they change so as to be able to. Goodness, especially deep, rich goodness like that, is intensely alluring. Maybe not at first, while the shallower goods of excitement and physical pleasure still beckon, but the more you’re exposed to it, the more irresistible it becomes.

                  And, as they become better people, Sarah and Casey also become better spies. Learning to trust and care for each other, they develop into a much more formidable force than they would have been otherwise. It allows them to read situations better by noting each other’s behavior, to push themselves further than they would ordinarily be able to, and even, when it comes down to it, to tear down conspiracies and unknown enemies, because they know going in who is on their side and who isn’t.

                   

4.     The Importance of Family

                 

 

                  Finally, perhaps the key theme in Chuck is family. Chuck’s sister, Ellie, is the most important person in his life, his emotional rock, and maintaining his relationship with her is his first priority. Meanwhile, major story arcs revolve around Chuck’s hunt for his long lost parents and the consequences – emotional and otherwise – of this search.

                  The broad dynamic of the show’s characterization has Chuck’s immediate circle coalescing into an odd but effective extended family. Distrustful characters learn to open up, dislike turns into affection and care, couples get married and start families. His extended family is what keeps Chuck stable and, more importantly, morally centered. It is the foundation of his life.

                  The interesting thing is that none of the lead characters had particularly stable family lives. Chuck and Ellie’s mother and father vanished without a trace while they were children, forcing her to raise him. Sarah’s father is a con man and her mother is…complicated. Casey, meanwhile, turns out to have considerable family related baggage of his own.

                  But the characters manage, despite everything, to forge out real, happy family units despite their unpromising backgrounds. This mirrors, in a sense, the way Chuck turns out, despite his completely unpromising start, to grow into a surprisingly competent spy. From out of the wreckage of their lives, the characters struggle, through love, loyalty, and friendship to forge something better for themselves.

                  What this ‘better’ thing turns out to be is family. Family – a real, solid, loving, normal family – is the Holy Grail of the series; the thing that everyone ultimately ends up longing for. Though, as noted, the show takes unchaste behavior such as living together before marriage for granted, it also portrays marriage and family as the goal of any serious relationship. Towards the end it even skewers things like pre-nuptial agreements and easy divorce, and dares to suggest that a successful, professional woman would really prefer to stay at home with her new baby instead.

                  In short, Chuck is far from what you’d call a ‘Christian’ show: religion is pretty much non-existent in the character’s lives, the worldview is pretty much wholly secular (at least it doesn’t, as far as I can remember, engage in the casual religion bashing so common these days). But it is steeped in what you might call the most Christian aspects of secular morality: family, friendships, the allure of love and honesty, and the dignity of ordinary life. Outside the sexual aspect (which, to be fair, does come in a good deal), the show is wholesome and uplifting; the violence is frequent, but cartoonish and almost always justified in context. Issues of honesty, fidelity, and responsibility are handled with care and thoughtfulness and the show typically comes down on the right side of all of them. It’s all around a great show. 

Vivat Christus Rex!

If You Won't Do It Now, You Won't Do It Then

                So, I was looking for a lead into an article about the “infinity of excuses” we make for inaction (as Theodore Roosevelt put it) when I stumbled across what, effectively, was the article I wanted to write. Nuts.

                So, as presented by Stacy Trasancos at StacyTrasancos.com, here is the tale of Can and Could:

Could held himself in great esteem, and was always dreaming. “If I were rich, I could…” He felt blessed with a benevolent disposition, and in his imagination he thought of a great many projects for doing good on a grand scale. Can was a simple young woman, not great or so well-dressed. She went about her life neither sauntering nor scheming far into the future. She scarcely knew what a project was.

One day Could was riding a crowded bus and the conductor inquired if any of the gentlemen would like to give up his seat. A sick man wanted to ride the bus and it was very cold outside. “Like!” thought Could with a laugh. “Who would like to be outside in this cold?” And so Could stayed in his warm seat and thought of new laws he might pass to improve the transportation system. No one should have to walk sick in the cold.

On the same day Can, having finished her chores, entered a store to buy something to eat. Inside there was a child carrying a basket much too heavy for her small frame, and the shawl that she wore was fallen from her shoulders and dragged in the muddy snow. “What happened to your shawl?” Can asked. The little girl said her mother was too ill to go to the store, so she sent her daughter instead. The girl could not hold up her shawl to keep warm lest she drop the basket. ”You’ll die from the cold,” said Can. Then Can tied up the shawl, helped the girl sell the items in the basket, and walked with her back to her home where she made the sick mother’s bed.

That night Could feel asleep in his arm chair by the fire in his comfortable home reflecting on all the acts of justice his new laws would bring, while Can cooked a stew so she might return to check on the poor family the next day. The moral of the story? Of all the ills that human kind endure, small is the part which laws and kings can cure.

                Now, the moral the story gives itself is of the folly of looking to laws and the government to solve all our problems when most of them could be solved by a little Christian charity. That’s an extremely relevant moral for today, but it’s not the one I’d like to draw from this story.

                See, Could, as his name implies, looks at life through the lens of ‘if only:’ if only I were rich, if only I had political power, if only I were a Metahuman, then I would be a veritable saint! ‘Could,’ by its very nature, implies a ‘but:’ I could help you, but I’d much rather stay warm myself, so I won’t.

                Most of us do this. We imagine ourselves to be so wonderfully charitable and kind because we picture the sort of things we would do…if we had more money, time, courage, faith, and energy. So, we live out our lives in a dream-like haze, waiting for our ship to come in so we can do all the wonderful things we imagine ourselves doing.

                The truth, though, is that we’re deluding ourselves. We will always find an excuse for our inaction. We don’t give money to the poor because we don’t think we have enough, but if we won the lottery tomorrow we still wouldn’t give to the poor because we’d be afraid of swindlers. We don’t make time to exercise because we are so busy, but when we have vacations we don’t exercise because, well, it’s a vacation!

                The short version of what I’m trying to say is that if you won’t do it now, you won’t do it then. If the absence of ideal circumstances prevents you from doing something, it means you don’t really intend to do it. The brutal fact is that circumstances will never be ideal and there will always be something we could come up with to excuse ourselves.

                Look at the men throughout history who accomplished great things: can you find even one for whom circumstances were ideal? Theodore Roosevelt was a timid, asthmatic child who grew up to win the Medal of Honor, serve as President of the United States, and explore the Amazon jungle. John Paul II had his university career interrupted by the Second World War and completed his studies by firelight in between shifts at a chemical plant. George Eastman conducted his experiments with film and photography by night while working full time, going without sleep for up to 48 hours straight.

                See, if you really want to do something, you’ll do it regardless of your circumstances. If you only imagine you would like to do something, you’ll come up with any number of excuses no matter what your circumstances. So, if you want to be a saint, help the poor, and spread the word of God, you’ll do it wherever you can and no matter what your circumstances. Remember how Jesus blessed the poor widow in the Gospel for resolutely giving alms despite her own destitution.

                So, if there’s something you feel called to do, don’t wait: do it now! Don’t fall into the trap of thinking “when I have more time” or “when I have more money” or “when I am appointed the unquestioned lord and ruler of the world.” Whatever it is, start working on it right now. Even if you only have ten free minutes a day, that ten minutes to do a little writing, sketch a little, sew a little, do the Charles Atlas routine, or what have you. Ten real minutes of effort today will get you a lot further than hours of effort ‘someday.’  

Vive Christus Rex!

On Anxiety

                  Have you ever seen the show Avatar: The LastAirbender? If so, then I’m sure you remember the scene where the young hero, Aang, has to seek advice from the malevolent spirit, Koh. All through the interview, Aang has to keep himself completely stoic and expressionless, because if his face shows any emotion at all, Koh will rip it off and wear it as a mask.

                  Yeah, it’s an awesome show.

                  I mention it, though, not just because Avatar is awesome (much better than the unrelated blue-elf Jim Cameron film of the same name), but because that scene illustrates something that St. Francis de Sales talks about in his Introduction to the Devout Life (which I’m in the process of reading). Namely, the unexpected danger of anxiety.

                  If you’re like me, then you read Jesus’ famous speech against anxiety (Matt. 6: 25-34) as just good, practical advice: you don’t gain anything by worrying your life away about things you can’t control, so trust in God and sack it up. St. Francis, however, brings out a different aspect which I hadn’t thought of before, but which was one of those “okay, duh” moments. St. Francis describes anxiety as not just unhealthy, but as actually dangerous for your soul. As a matter of fact, he goes so far as to say that it is the worst thing that can befall your soul, short of sin itself.

                  The thing about anxiety, he says, is that while it is not a sin itself it serves as fertile ground for sin to grow in. Basically, it weakens your defenses and leaves you vulnerable, like the way a city torn by internal strife is ripe pickings for an invading army (that’s what happened to Poland in the eighteenth century: some geniuses decided that every parliamentary decision had to be unanimous, with the result that Prussia, Austria, and Russia were able to help themselves to Polish territory until there wasn’t any Poland left).

                  I don’t know about you, but I’m most apt to commit sins when I’m anxious or stressed about something. And isn’t that our favorite excuse? “Sorry I yelled at you; I’ve got a lot on my plate.” “Yeah, I swore I’d never take another drink, but have you seen the day I’ve had?” We don’t only know that anxiety can lead to sin, we’re glad of the fact, because it gives us an excuse.

                  But Jesus doesn’t want excuses; He wants us to man up and overcome our sins. If we plead anxiety, He’ll say “Hm, that’s funny; I’m pretty sure I specifically told you not to be anxious! Depart from me, you wicked ones!” (*BANG*) “AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE…..!” (*SPLASH!*) (*GRINDING OF TEETH*)

                  (sorry: got a bit carried away there)                 

                  Anyway, the point is that we need to do something about anxiety, because it will destroy us if we don’t. So what do we do?

                  It’s so hard because when we are anxious we are trying to either escape some evil or acquire some good, both of which are laudable desires, and, as such can trick us into chasing them beyond all reason. So, what we need to do is to trust in God and stare it down, like Aang; calmly and rationally. St. Francis tells us that whenever something is making us anxious, we need to stop, pray about it, then wait and deal with it tomorrow when we’re less anxious. If that’s not possible, we still need to pray about it before we do anything else. Take a step back, remind yourself that everything is in God’s hands, that he won’t abandon you, and that whatever happens you can get through it. Then relax and go about your business. 

"RELAX!"

                  Easier said than done, huh? Well, all of Christianity’s like that; that’s why we have prayer.

Live Like You're Dying

                  They say the best way to learn something is to teach it, so today I’m going to talk about something I’ve been trying to get into my head for a long time. It’s a very simple fact that everyone knows, nobody likes to hear, and that most people try to ignore (to their peril). Five small words:

                  You

                  Are

                  Going

                  To

                  Die

                 

Morbid, says you? Properly motivating says I. 

In the first place, it really does seem odd that we’re so reluctant to talk about death. It’s the one thing in the world that we can be sure to have in common with whomever we are talking to. Plop me down in a meeting of the Lesbian Black Panthers’ Association of Yale and we’ll probably have zero common ground…except that we’re all going to die.

So, now you know what to say at your next Christmas Party if you’re ever looking for a good topic of conversation:

                  But my point here is not to give you tips on being a conversationalist (clearly I’m the last person in the world who should be advising you on that). My point is that death is something inevitable. Even your evil schemes to drain the life essence from virgins to ensure your own immortality is doomed to failure, since sooner or later either one of those virgins or her boyfriend is going to take you down. Same thing with any other plan you care to name: your horcruxes will get destroyed by those meddling kids, the Lazarus Pits will become unstable and explode, and universal healthcare will quickly run out of money and become the exclusive province of the wealthy and political elite.

                  In short, if you try to fight the fact that you will die, you are going to lose. “Death,” as St. Justin Martyr reminds us, “is a debt which must, in all events, be paid.”

                  So, if you can’t beat Death, why not turn him into an ally? When humanity accepted that it couldn’t kill Godzilla, they discovered that he could be just as powerful as a protective force as he was as a destructive one. When Darth Vader discovered how strong Luke Skywalker was, his first instinct wasn’t to kill him, but to turn him. A powerful enemy makes for an equally powerful ally (unless you’re playing an RPG, in which case he’ll be de-powered to equal the other party members the instant he switches sides…but I digress).

                  How can you make Death your ally? Simple. Accept the fact that you will die. It’s going to happen. One day you’ll be a nice skeleton lying in the ground (or, if you’re really lucky, sitting pretty on an anthropologist’s shelf with a label and a ‘please do not touch’ sign). Alternatively, you’ll be a pile of ashes drifting in the wind. It might happen in a hundred years, it might happen today, as you read this (though hopefully not before you finish). In any case, you are going to die; get used to the idea.

                  What all this boils down to is that if you accept that you will die, the idea will become a whole lot less odious to you (unless you’re an atheist, in which case…you might want to work on that). You’ll start to consider what will happen next, meaning that your plan to just ‘try to be good’ or ‘take care of religion later’ suddenly starts to sound a whole lot stupider. You’ll start to actually live rather than simply planning to live.

                  See, by acknowledging that you will die, you realize that your ‘life’ is not some future prospect which you are preparing for; it’s here and now. At the moment, your life involves reading this post. Your life is whatever you are doing right now, not what you are planning to do in the future.

                  There is the saying “time is money.” That is false. Time is much, much more than money. All the money that ever has or ever will existed in the world, including the imaginary stuff the government is using right now, cannot buy a single instant of time. Nor is time guaranteed to anyone. Every plan, every intention we make is a gamble; we’re betting that we will have the time to do it. We’re wagering the time we have now against the time we think we will have in the future. Sometimes the gamble pays off, sometimes it doesn’t.

                  So, what do you do? Simple; you lower the odds. You do it now. What is it that you are planning, hoping to accomplish in your life? Whatever it is, start doing it. If you can’t just go off and begin, start preparing. Commit yourself to it. This, right here, right now, is your life. This is what will be written about in your obituary. This is what you will find yourself giving an account to God for.

                  “Uh, well...I hooked up with a lot of girls…can’t remember all their names. I, um, played a lot of Halo, and I sat in cubicle for forty years filling out TPS reports, but I never got married because I didn’t want to be tied down, so…I guess that’s about it…oh, yeah! I saw Angkor Watt once!”

                  “Okay, God; l started out with nothing but some paper, a job I loathed, and a woman I loved. Committing all this to your Will, I quit my job, married the girl, and started a ministry spreading your word to the people who needed it. That’s after my time in the Marine Corps, where I fought on two continents and learned the true meaning of courage and honor. Now, let me start by telling you about my wife, because she’s really the best part…

                  Second one has a lot more punch doesn’t it?                  

                  I sometimes picture God as a literary critic judging the stories we live. Sometimes He’ll say “I was gripped from the moment you were conceived until that final breath, and I couldn’t wait to read it again! Five stars: an author to watch!” Other times He’ll say “The story was gripping, but its ideas and themes were so off base, so revolting, that I simply could not enjoy the experience.  I appreciate the effort and talent involved, but I cannot recommend it. Two stars.” And for the unlucky few, He’ll say “This was the most boring tripe I have ever had the misfortune to suffer through. It got so that the only moments you showed any kind of life at all were when you sinned, but even then you lacked anything that could by any definition be called individuality or passion. Your life was a mind-numbing slog of bland, occasionally disgusting junk and a blasphemous rebuke to me, as your Creator, for wasting the effort. No stars.” 

                  Here’s the thing; I’m all in favor of ‘Bucket Lists,’ but the trouble is that far too many of them read like just a random collection of the same old experiences: “Skydive, climb Kilomanjaro, visit Taj Mahal, compete in Iron Man…” Boring! Not that there’s anything wrong with any of those, but come on; do you think when you’re dying and about to see God you’re going to be saying “well, at least I ran that marathon; that means my life had meaning.” No, what will matter more than that is the people you’ve loved and the lives you’ve touched. What will matter is what you’ve done to serve God and lead people to Heaven. Something my pastor keeps saying is that the first question we’ll be asked at the gates to Heaven is “did you bring anyone with you?”

                  My point here, ultimately, is that by remembering your death, you ought to find yourself focusing on two things: the here and now (which is the only moment you are guaranteed), and the moment after you die, when you will have to render an account. God won’t care how many marathons you’ve run, or how many mountains you’ve climbed; He’ll want to know how the world was better off for your existence. He’ll say to you “I gave you existence. I formed you in the womb. I preserved your life for X number of years. I gave you a functioning body and a rational mind. I gave you a world of people to love and things to use. Now, what did you do with all that?” 

In conclusion, I shall allow Country Music star Tim McGraw to sum up the entire article in song.

 Vive Christus Rex!

"The Cake is a Lie"

            In action movies you sometimes hear the crooked police chief say something like “everyone has his price” to justify their coming in on the side of the corrupt Senator Mendoza (“MENDOZAAAAAAAAA!”).  Of course, the hero typically proves him wrong by shooting him…er, and occasionally by refusing to take a bribe when the time comes.

            There’s actually a profound truth in that familiar scenario; namely, that the real test of one’s character comes when they are faced with their ‘price.’ Will your ideals still hold when the money is on the table? If not, then did you ever really believe in them in the first place, or were they just moral preening; things you told yourself that you believed so that you could feel like you weren’t ‘like other men’?

             And this doesn’t just apply to money either; what if someone offers you sex? Power? Social change? Even life itself? Any of those could be your ‘price’ as well.

            Now, most of us will never meet Senator Mendoza, who will offer to make our dreams come true in exchange for looking the other way. We have the much harder job of facing this same question every single moment of every single day. The question of “what can I buy your soul with? Money? Pleasure? Fame?” This is the question that we face when we have to decide whether we will sleep in or go to church, or whether we will spread lies about someone at work to get ahead, or whether we’ll give in to the temptation to log on to that porn site.

            So, how can we resist when our own personal Mendoza comes and offers us our own personal price to look the other way?

            Remember this piece of wisdom from one of the best, most unique games out there:

            “The Cake is a Lie.”

            In Portal, protagonist Chell is put through a series of tests using a handheld portal device, with the promise that cake will be provided when she’s done. But in one of the test chambers she discovers a message left by a former test subject: “The cake is a lie.” Indeed, after completing all the tests, Chell doesn’t receive any cake, but is instead shipped into an incinerator (she escapes, but the allegory remains). 

Go left, Chell!

            You see, these things that we want so badly, that we think will make us happy, they’re lies. They can’t satisfy us. If we choose pleasure, we’ll eventually get board. Money? We’ll lose it, or waste it, or it’ll sit in a bank until we die. Fame? We’ll be forgotten, or become a hollow shell of a man elected on nothing but a false façade, bereft of anything resembling virtue or leadership or…sorry, what were we talking about? Oh, yeah. The point is that the Devil doesn’t want us to be happy; he holds out the ‘cake’ just to tempt us into the incinerator room.

            I think it’s a healthy spiritual exercise to picture that someone is offering you the thing that you want most in the world in exchange for your soul. How can you stand to resist? Well, think; imagine you have the ‘cake:’ what happens then? Imagine yourself finishing the cake, finding yourself still hungry. Imagine getting all that money and what you would spend it on, and how long the novelty would last.  Imagine giving in to the call to pleasure and finding yourself afterwards, with the sensation quickly fading and the shame starting to begin.

            I remember first really understanding the banality of greed when I watched the re-make of The Italian Job, seeing the thieves discussing what they would spend the money on, like huge speakers. Really? You’d sell your soul to hear your ‘music’ a little better? Then, after one of them takes it all for himself, he buys…a big house and an entertainment center so he can watch football. I mean, come on; you could get that at a bar for goodness sakes.

            Always remember, you’ll never taste that cake, and even if you do, it won’t last. Soon the cake will be eaten, and you will be left alone, hungry, and bored, with no more soul to sell. 

            “What profits a man to gain the whole world but lose his soul? Or what shall he give in return for his soul?”

Remember: The cake is a lie; only God satisfies.

Vive Christus Rex! 

Four Life Lessons from "The Hobbit"

        As some of you may have heard, the first movie of The Hobbit came out last week (see my review here). In recognition of this momentous occasion, we’re going to look a little closer at the story. Tolkien (as you may remember) was a devout Catholic and always infused his stories with his faith. As you can imagine, you can learn a lot from one of the most brilliant Catholic minds of the twentieth century. For now, however, we shall limit ourselves to the ones that can be found in the first third or so of the book (corresponding roughly with what’s in the movie).

1.     Leave Your Comfort Zone

When we first meet him, Bilbo Baggins is a solidly ‘respectable’ Hobbit. You could know exactly what he was going to say on any subject without bothering to ask him. His concerns were primarily eating, reading his mail, and keeping his lovely hobbit hole nice and clean.

Then, one day, he meets Gandalf the Wizard who is looking for someone to share in an adventure he is putting together with 13 dwarves intent on reclaiming their kingdom of Erebor from the dragon Smaug. Bilbo, at first wants nothing to do with it…until one of the dwarves voices the opinion that he is “more like a grocer than a burglar.” That, coupled with the dwarves song of gold and adventure, makes him determined to go and prove himself.

These days we’re often told that we’re “okay, just the way we are.” Bilbo and I are here to tell you that’s nonsense. Of course you’re not okay just the way you are; if you were, you wouldn’t be telling yourself that! It’s like what Tolkien’s friend Lewis said about the phrase “I’m just as good as you:” it’s one of those things that no one would say if they actually believed it. Do you think any saint, or any great man: Peter, Francis of Assisi, Francis de Sales, Theodore Roosevelt, or John Paul II ever once in their lives said “I like being me; I am comfortable with who I am”? Of course not! They were great precisely because they were always uncomfortable: because they were never satisfied with themselves, they were always seeking to improve.

The fact is, there is always something you need to improve, always boundaries you need to cross. If you’re comfortable with your life, it probably means you’re doing something wrong. God doesn’t want us to be comfortable; He wants us to be Saints. An insular, respectable life is generally not a sign of great sanctity.

I hardly even know where to begin with the awful word ‘respectable.’ Christians should never be respectable! To be respectable means to be in line with the times, to be a thoroughly normal child of the Xth-Century, and God forbid we be that! We ought to be a sign of contradiction to the world; we ought to be obnoxious, non-conformist, and improper. In other words, we should never be a perfectly ordinary person of our times. If we are, it means one of two things: Jesus has come and again and the world has ended, or we’re not living as we should. Trust me, you’d know if it were the former.

At the beginning, Bilbo really is more like a grocer than a burglar. He’s (let’s face it) a pampered, upper-class wimp: much like many of us. But he has the desire to be something more, and it is that desire that sends him running out the door without his pocket handkerchief.

What’s your hobbit hole? What comfortable, easy refuge is keeping you respectable, and what’s the desire that will drive you out of it?

2.     Honor Your Responsibilities

 Bilbo and the dwarves are, at first, not what we might call ‘friends.’ They don’t like each other very much. The dwarves are apt to dismiss Bilbo as useless, and Bilbo is, well, apt to be useless. Yet they are friends, because ‘friends’ is what they have committed to be. They’re comrades; mess-mates. And however they feel about each other, they have responsibilities towards one another.

Thus, when Bilbo escapes the goblin mines without his friends, he makes up his mind that, if he can’t find them outside, it’s his duty to go back in and look for them (“and very miserable he felt about it”). The fact that he probably won’t be able to find them (magic ring or no magic ring), that they might be dead for all he knows, and that they don’t even like him very much anyway doesn’t matter; he committed to them, now he has to fulfill his duty to them.

But then, he stumbles across them in the woods to find that they are discussing the very same thing: going back in to look for Bilbo. And, unlike him, they adamantly don’t want to. They complain to Gandalf that Bilbo’s useless anyway, and that they won’t be able to find him, that he should have kept up, and so on and so forth.

Once again, Bilbo shows us the right thing to do, while the dwarves (who are ostensibly the more experienced and dedicated adventurers) show us what not to do. Bilbo knows his duty and sticks to it, no matter how much he’d prefer to do otherwise. The dwarves, on the other hand, plead changing circumstances to excuse themselves. Duty does not change with circumstances or with feelings; it is constant no matter what, and our only concern should be to do it to the best of our abilities.

3.     Get Creative

  

That isn’t to say, of course, that changing circumstances don’t need to be taken into account. Our duty may remain the same, but our situation does not. So, the effect is something like this; we have two points: the fixed point of our responsibility and the moving point of our situation. In between is the shifting, Cube-like maze of circumstance. So, we have to get creative.

This is my default solution.

Bilbo finds himself alone and lost. His responsibility is to find and (if necessary) rescue his friends and escape the mountain. In addition to the fact that he’s stuck in a labyrinthian cave network with goblins prowling around and no light source, he meets Gollum, who thinks he might like to eat Bilbo. So, Bilbo improvises and when Gollum suggest they have a game of riddles to decide whether he will show Bilbo the exit or having him for dinner, he agrees. The only way to the outside is through Gollum, so Bilbo accepts the situation and tries to find a way to make it work for him. Then, when it looks as though he might lose the game, Bilbo accidentally hits on the solution; to think outside the box and ask a question Gollum couldn’t possibly guess: “What have I got in my pocket?”

                  Now, the clever thing about the pocket question is that the important thing is less to make Gollum guess wrongly (since the only way he could guess correctly is by sheer luck), but to make him try to answer. Once he tries to answer, it shows he accepts the question and thus binds him to his promise. Gollum, less adept at such things than Bilbo, takes the bait and loses (it’s the same principle behind things like roulette and shell-games: the trick isn’t in making the other person lose, it’s in making them play at all). 

                  When circumstances seem overwhelming, sometimes the best thing to do is to get creative and try something completely different. To ‘cheat,’ as it were.

4.     “Vanquished Enemies Should be Spared”

G.K. Chesterton listed this as one of the things no sensible person ever has or ever will question. If you have beaten someone and have a chance to finish him for good, you should always ere on the side of mercy.

After Bilbo has won the riddle game (“pretty fairly”) and, in fleeing the enraged Gollum discovered the power of the Ring, he finds himself in a position where the only way he can escape is to somehow go through or around Gollum. Remembering Gollum’s willingness and intent to murder him, Bilbo considers simply killing him. But his basic decency wins through; it wasn’t a fair fight by any stretch, and besides Gollum was already so miserable and alone that Bilbo couldn’t find it in his heart to kill him.

Bilbo’s mercy, note, was done because he could sympathize with Gollum. He “caught of glimpse” of Gollum’s miserable, lonely life and it made him feel for the poor creature. It is easy, in these days of the internet: of faceless names comprised of odd phrases strung together with random numbers, to lose all sympathy for other people. Whenever we’re tempted to lash out, to make crass, hateful comments, or to attack people who disagree with us, we should pause and try to imagine what their life, their mind, their world is like. In short, we should show pity to those we meet.

                  Much later, at the beginning of The Fellowship of the Ring, Frodo (seeing the tremendous damage Gollum has done in the mean time) wishes that Bilbo had killed him when he had the chance, earning him a rebuke from Gandalf:

                  “Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo’s hand! Pity and mercy: not to strike without need…I daresay he does deserve [death]! Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment, fearing for your own safety.”

                  All too often we find ourselves far too eager to pass judgment, to ‘strike without need,’ to take what seems to be the easiest, safest way out, regardless of how it affects others. At such times we should remember Bilbo and the pity he showed an enemy that he had every reason to despise.

Tune in next year for part two: Never Laugh at Live Dragons!

                 

Vive Christus Rex!

12 Debating Tips from '12 Angry Men'

     

             12 Angry Men is one of those classic films that everyone, and especially every American, should see. One set, twelve actors, and more drama than all the Transformers movies put together (including the animated one with Orson Welles as Unicron).

                  The story is simple; an eighteen-year-old boy of undisclosed ethnicity is accused of murdering his father. The case against him looks devastating; there are two eyewitnesses, a lot of suspicious circumstances, and the boys only defense is a flimsy alibi about being at the movies during the killing. The film opens with the jury retiring to debate the case, and the entire movie takes place in the jury room (with one brief scene in the adjacent bathroom).

                  Since the entire movie is about an extended argument, it’s no surprise that you can pick up a lot of debating tips from watching it.

                  (Before I begin, be aware that this review assumes you’ve seen the movie and will contain **NUMBEROUS UNMARKED SPOILERS** so read at your own risk).

                                                             #1               

                  Debate:

                   The first step is to actually make the argument and not simply assume the question is settled. At the beginning of the film, eleven of the twelve all vote ‘Guilty.’ Juror #8 casts a single vote for ‘Not Guilty.’ His reason, he explains, isn’t because he necessarily thinks the boy is innocent, but because he feels they need to actually talk about it before coming to a decision. The evidence of his guilt appears to be overwhelming, but nevertheless they have a duty to dig deeper before they can send a fellow man off to die.

                  There’s an insidious technique to avoid arguments floating around in which one side simply assumes they’ve won and sneers at the other side for trying to debate at all. Why do you think the Global Warming crowd gets so much support? It isn’t because they have an air-tight, scientifically unassailable case, it’s because they seize the moral high ground and mock anyone who dares to disagree with them. The same thing with the ‘Same-Sex Marriage’ crowd, or the Abortion lobby: they don’t invite debate; they just attack anyone who tries to question them.

                  The first step to any argument is to have the argument. Don’t let people tell you the question is settled; make them fight for it.

         

                                                               #2

                  Question Premises:

                  As the first step to undoing the case against the boy, Juror #8 challenges the assumption that the knife that was used to kill the boy’s father was a unique weapon that links the boy with the killing. When the others point out that neither they nor (according to his testimony) the storekeeper who sold it to the boy had ever seen a knife like that, and therefore it would be impossible for someone else to do the killing with a duplicate, #8 wordlessly stands up and slams an identical knife into the table.

                  All debate is based on logic, and all logic is based on premises. If you can call the premise into question, you can undermine your opponent’s whole case. A logical statement consists of a premise and a deduction: A is true, so B must follow. Therefore, you can defuse an argument by either attacking the premise or the deduction; either by showing that A is faulty, or that B doesn’t necessarily have to follow. Typically, if you can attack a premise you will be on much stronger ground than if you attack a deduction, because if you attack a deduction, you will only get a probability: if B doesn’t necessarily follow, then it’s still true that B could follow. But if A is false, then B loses its power as well. If the knife isn’t unique, it doesn’t prove anything that the killing was committed with it.

                  Your first step in a debate should be to discover your opponent’s premises and test them for weaknesses.

                                                          #3

                Prepare:

                  Related to the above story, you need to get your facts straight and consider your arguments before you enter the debate. Consider what proofs you’re likely to need and take steps to get them. Juror #8 knew the knife was bound to come up and knew that he would need hard evidence to show that it wasn’t unique, so he went out and bought one, making a note of the location and the price (both of which indicated it was a fairly popular model).

                  Think ahead, gather what you need, and come in with the evidence you need to make your case.

                                                                                      
                                                                 #4

                  Compare:

                  One of the first breaks in the case is when Juror # 8 realizes that two pieces of evidence contradict each other: one witness claims to have seen the killing take place through the windows of a passing train, while another claims to have heard the killing through the open window of his apartment. But if the train was passing by, it would have been impossible for him to have heard, much less identify, anything at all.

                  Typically if someone is arguing from a weak position they’ll throw everything and the kitchen sink into an argument, blind to the fact that some of their points contradict each other. For instance, rabid anti-Catholics will often say on one hand that Catholics ‘stole’ all their holidays from pagan cultures (by the way, how do you ‘steal’ a holiday?), and that Christmas, Halloween, and Easter are actually pagan celebrations. On the other hand, they’ll say the Church brutally suppressed and destroyed all the good and noble elements of pagan culture in order to impose itself. But if the Church is so reactionary and hate-filled towards paganism, why would she base her calendar around pagan celebrations? And if the Church is just paganism with a new face, then how can you say it oppresses paganism?

                  These are the kinds of contradictory arguments that tend to expose poor logic and positions based more on emotion than reason.
                                                               #5

                  Experiment:

                  As part of the evidence against the boy, an old man claimed to have run to his front door just in time to see him fleeing the scene of the crime. Questioning whether an old man with a paralyzed left leg could have gotten to the door in time, Juror # 8 decides to try it himself to see, discovering that it would have taken over forty seconds for the old man to make the journey; far too much time for him to catch sight of the boy on his way out.

                  Sometimes the best way to figure out whether something can be done is simply to do it. For instance, a lot of people these days say that the Christian ideal of chastity is impossible, but how many of them have ever tried it? Lots of things seem impossible before we try them, or when we first start out, only for us to wake up one day and realize that the thing is done and a part of our lives.

                  When someone tells you that something can’t be done, ask them whether they’ve tried it. 

                                                            #6

                  Ask Questions:

                  At one point Juror #11, who hasn’t said much up to now, stands up and begins rattling off a number of questions about the reasonableness of the prosecution’s scenario. After a number of these, Juror #3 (who’s particularly invested in the guilty verdict) says “wait, you voted guilty like the rest of us, so which side are you on?” To which #11 calmly replies “I don’t believe I have to be ‘loyal’ to one side or the other. I am simply asking questions.”

                  All too often, we become settled on the idea of ‘sides:’ that we have to support ‘us’ against ‘them.’ But debates shouldn’t be about sides or which team wins; they ought to be about getting to the truth. Hence, it’s important to be able to look at the issue from every perspective and ask tough questions. 

                                                               #7

                  Empathize:

                  #11’s questions, meanwhile, are all about trying to put himself into the boy’s place and account for his movements on the night of the murder. His central point is the question of why, having murdered his father, would the boy risk going back to the scene of the crime three hours later, especially when the other evidence indicates that he would have known that someone saw him. Unsatisfied with the argument that the boy came back to retrieve the murder weapon, he changes his vote.

                  Often ideas that seem reasonable in the abstract become much more flimsy when you try to imagine the actual nuts-and-bolts behind them. It’s easy to say, for instance “everyone will work for the good of everyone else,” but if you try to consider how an actual person, a working man breaking his back day-after-day would react to the idea that this is for “everyone,” the result is much different.

                  Empathize: put yourself in other people’s position and ask yourself whether the idea presented is really credible or not.

  

                                                               #8

                  Consult Experts:

                  At one point, having reached an impasse, Juror #2 suggests a problem with the stab-wound, noting that the boy was over half-a-foot shorter than his father, yet the wound was made at a downward angle. After #3 demonstrates how a shorter man could stab a taller one at a downward angle, Juror #5 (who grew up in a slum similar to the one the boy lived in) gets up and explains that switchblades are built to make underhand attacks, and that no one who had any experience with one (as the boy had) would ever make the kind of wound that killed the victim.

                  There are an almost infinite number of subjects in the world, all of which have their secrets and arcane bits of knowledge that most of us would never even think of. Before we make broad statements about such subjects, it often pays to find an expert to tell us whether our ideas are likely or even possible. A little research and a little humility can work wonders in debate.

                                                            #9

                  Call-Out:

                  Juror #6 is an interesting case; he talks a lot, but he’s utterly indifferent to the case. He initially votes guilty to hurry things along so he can get to a baseball game later than evening. Then, when a storm means the game will be cancelled, he switches to not-guilty because he’s “sick of all the talk.” At this point Juror #11 loses his patience. Walking right up the man, he berates him for “playing like this with a man’s life” and basically calls him a coward for not voting as he thinks.

                  #6, of course, takes offense: “Now listen! You can’t talk like that to me!”

                  “Yes,” says #11, “I can talk like that to you.”

                  The fact is, we will sometimes encounter immoral people; people who go through life with a sneer and a shrug, but who bristle with indignation if anyone dares criticize them. The way to deal with such people is to call them out; to name them for what they are. Don’t let their pride or their protests of indignant offense stop you from speaking the truth.

                                                            #10

                  Ignore:

                  As the jury swings ever more towards an acquittal, Juror #10, who has made his shameless bigotry known throughout the proceedings, leaps to his feet and goes into a minutes-long monologue about how “those people” are dangerous and violent. As he talks, every other juror gets up one by one and turns their backs on him. Wrapped up in his diatribe, he doesn’t notice this at first, but as he starts to wind down he realizes what’s happening and gets quieter and quieter. Finally, only the unflappable Juror #4 is left.

                  “Listen to me,” #10 pleads. “Listen to me!”

                  “I have,” #4 snaps. “Now sit down and don’t open your mouth again.”

                  Occasionally, we will come upon beliefs so twisted, so horrifying that there seems to be no point in arguing them. In such cases, often the best thing we can do is to simply turn our backs on them and let them rant into the air. A particularly self-possessed and strong man (like Juror #4) may be able to stare him down, and then, with the silent support of the ignoring majority, tell him to shut up.

                  In the face of truly evil ideas, the best thing is often to first let their proponent know that they are unacceptable. Then, when he’s been chastised by public opinion, he may finally be open to reason.

                                                           #11

                  Observe:

                  The last and strongest piece of evidence for the guilty party is the fact that a woman living across the street actually saw the boy killing his father. This point seems insurmountable, even prompting the limp-spined Juror#12 to switch his vote back to guilty. As the begin the discussion, however, Juror #9 notices something; #4 (who wears glasses) has a habit of rubbing the peculiar impressions that his glasses have left on the side of his nose. #9 points out that, though no one commented on it, the woman who claimed to have witnessed the murder had the same marks, meaning she ordinarily wore eyeglasses. Since she was in bed trying to fall asleep when she witnessed the murder, she wouldn’t have been wearing her glasses then either. Hence, her eyesight is in question.

                  Simple awareness often helps us to spot gaps or reasons for doubt in our opponent’s arguments. If we observe that he has a habit of not looking us in the eye, we might conclude that he’s not as certain as he lets on. If we see that he’s reluctant to let go of a certain point even after it’s been dealt with, we might question his motives. And of course, observation is the first and best way to gather evidence in support of our own position.

                  Stay alert, carefully observe the world around you, and you will be prepared when you need to debate.

                                                           #12

                  Ask Why:

                  In the end, Juror #3 stands alone; the only guilty vote left: bitterly snapping that it’s his right to dissent, and that he’s given his arguments. #8 calmly invites him to try to convince the rest of them, causing #3 to go into a furious rant, repeating all the evidence that they’ve dismissed so far. After he’s spewed his rage on them all, the rest still sit unmoved. Spotting a picture of his estranged son which has fallen out of his wallet, he shouts in anger and begins to tear it up. Coming to his senses, he breaks down in tears and votes not guilty.  

                  When the arguments have all been made, the evidence presented, and your opponent still won’t budge, it might be time to simply ask him why he’s so immovable on this issue. Let’s face it; most of us are not strictly logical. We’re not supposed to be strictly logical. For most people, the reason they have a particularly violent hatred or rejection of some idea or belief is not out of logic or because of the evidence, but because of some other, deeper, more personal reason. When your opponent sits unmoved, even after you’ve taken his arguments apart, showed him hard evidence, and demonstrated your position perfectly, then it’s time to take a step back and try to find out what in him is preventing him from agreeing with you. If you can find that; if you can lay your finger on that one point which tethers him to his false belief, then you will almost certainly win him over.

Vive Christus Rex!