3 Pet Peeves About Romance Novels

Or Romantic Comedies, for that matter…

This Sunday, I watched a romantic comedy because the TV was on and I was too lazy to get off the couch and turn it off. Hugh Grant starred as a bumbling art auctioneer who fell in love with the daughter of a mob kingpin. Before I knew it, people were staging a wedding and faking their deaths, and I was thanking God that life isn’t like romantic comedies.

When I was a teenager I’d haul romances out of the library by the stack. Now I’d rather read the Encyclopedia Britannica or Crime and Punishment (which is both a crime and a punishment). The movie got me thinking: what about romance novels ticks me off the most?

1. Perfection Beyond that of Mortals

Not ALL of us can fall in love with a ripped highlander who has flowing blond hair, or a gorgeous billionaire businessman, or a cowboy with abs that roll like the prairies. Where is the hero who lives in his mom’s basement and plays four hours of video games every day (in the real world you can hardly move without meeting one of those)? How about the guy who’s working his butt off to pay off his student loan? And the only man with an average face and a slight potbelly is the hero’s best friend.

Not ALL of us ladies have a cataract of black curls, lips like spun scarlet silk (Listen to me. I’ll make a romance novelist yet) and work as marketing executives, fashion designers and fitness trainers. When will they write romances with women who drive beater cars, waitress on weekends to pay the bills, and wear Wal-Mart jeans? What about a girl who carries extra pounds with grace and doesn’t let her weight stop her from looking gorgeous?

Sidebar: I’ve yet to see a romance novel with a hipster man on the cover. Have you?  

2. The Ultimate Betrayal

You know it’s coming. The highlander is from the wrong clan, a sworn enemy. The billionaire is caught with another woman. The cowboy succumbs to the scars of his past and pushes his cowgirl away.

Will the heroine give her man the benefit of the doubt?

HECK NO!

Will they talk it out like mature human beings? Will they communicate so that the billionaire can explain that he was just taking his sister out to lunch, and they hadn’t seen each other in weeks so he was giving her a hug?

That would be too easy.

For all their professions of true love, trust isn’t a priority in romance novels or movies. “Love” will conquer the two hundred lies they’ve told each other. Love will magically make their clan rivalries disappear. True love conquers all.

Well, yes. But true love means hard work, baby. To love someone means to accept their big bad flaws and serve them and edify them even when you’re pretty sure you hate them. Storming off stage and plotting crazy revenge doesn’t come in to play.

3. The Sex

I’ve got to say it. I hate, HATE the sex scenes. Call me a prude if you will. I read mostly Christian fiction as a youngster, but I stumbled upon my first mainstream romance novel when I was young—eleven or twelve, I think. It didn’t take long for me to find the obligatory steamy scene. I can still remember it in vivid detail.

If I’d been an adult, would it have been better?

I don’t want my real, human, lover to have to compete with a hundred fictional highlanders, billionaires and cowboys. I’m no expert, but wise people have told me that, like anything else, intimacy takes work. It’s not mind-blowing the first time. But that’s not what the romance novel will teach you.

Those scenes feed our selfish desires and fantasies.  They’re porn in written form.

“Oh, but it advances the plot.”  Okay, I’ll give you that.  Generally I’ll accept small amounts of sexual content because they are necessary to the plot.

But play by play in meticulous detail?  Absolutely unnecessary!  Entire books devoted to ‘erotica’?  I don’t see how any good can come from that.

Brainwashing. Ack!

The rational mind knows the difference between fiction and fact, but the subconscious believes what it sees or projects upon the screen of the imagination. Though I thought they were just ‘harmless entertainment,’ the stacks of romances changed how I thought of love, myself, and men–and not for the better. In spite of years of reading and studying healthy relationships, I still haven’t expunged them from my brain.

I Still Love Romance

Ultimately, what makes me angry about these romance novels is the ‘something for nothing’ mentality. They give the idea that love is an accident. You ‘fall’ in love, and bam! Fireworks! Happily ever after!

It would be hypocritical to say that I hate romance.  On the contrary.  I can’t write a story without it.  But I’ve tried to build two things into my stories: sacrifice and uncertainty. What begins in attraction progresses to shared experiences, setting aside pride, conquering fears, and putting the other person above their own comfort. There is no perfect circumstance. Life is not fair, and at the end of the story, the characters are not riding off into the sunset. They’re standing side by side, staring into the face of the next storm.

I’ve got no judgement for you if you love romance novels.  I believe humans (ladies, especially) are hardwired to enjoy a good love story.  Just ask yourself.  Is this story really good?

Will You Tolerate What You’ve Created?

“Never be satisfied as a drone worker, just showing up and going through the conveyor-belt routines you’re taught. In any position, always be looking for things to improve. And never, ever compromise your moral standards in the name of ‘Everyone is doing it.’

Are you uncomfortable with anything you see at your workplace or in any other position in which you serve? What should you do about it? Why do you think so many people just go along with wrongs they see happening every day?” –From Wavemakers, by LIFE Leadership.

This passage troubles me. In fact, the sheer weight of it makes me want to curl into a ball in the corner. Don’t put this on me! Don’t saddle my integrity with this! Don’t you see I’m doing the best I can?

There’s a lot that goes on in my workplace that I don’t agree with—from teasing that goes beyond friendliness to signing for work that hasn’t been done.

It actually takes work to work an honest eight-hour day because the culture is to waste the first and last fifteen minutes in visiting.  You mean we actually work at a factory? It’s not a social club? It takes concerted effort to do a good job because people are so accustomed to accepting ‘good enough’. I should never have to ask the question “did you actually do this, or are you just saying that?” But I do.

I’m not saying I’m perfect—far from it. This week I’m nowhere near my usual cheerful self, and holding tight to my integrity is a daunting task. I’m struggling to stand. How hard can I push for excellence without breaking relationships? I don’t want to be a legalistic taskmaster. I just want to do a good job.

This really bothers me because I am weak right now and I wish my coworkers wouldn’t make things harder for me—unintentional though it is. I don’t have the energy to pick a side in their political games, or discern whether they really calibrated the scale or they just filled in the numbers.

Do I say ‘No, I will do right,’ or be washed away by the current?

This quote offers some insight.  It’s not exactly on topic, but read it through the lens of your workplace and I think it will make sense.  Edward Snowden said:

“If living unfreely [sic] but comfortably is something you’re willing to accept—and I think many of us are because it’s human nature—you can get up every day, go to work, you can collect your large paycheck [sic] for relatively little work against the public interest, and go to sleep at night after watching your shows.

But if you realize that that’s the world you helped create and it’s gonna get worse with the next generation who extend the capabilities of this sort of architecture of oppression, you realize that you might be willing to accept any risk and it doesn’t matter what the outcome is so long as the public gets to make their own decisions about how that’s applied”–as quoted in Wavemakers.

He was talking about national freedom. I’m talking about personal freedom, job quality and heck, the jobs we wish we could work at. The job we have—the culture, conditions and general attitude—is what we have helped to create.  Whether by commission or omission, our workplace is what we’ve made it.

We want a supportive, inspiring, positive environment. We want fulfillment and advancement. We want freedom. But who will create that if we don’t?

Who will shine bright if I won’t?

“It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do a little. Do what you can,”—Sir Sidney Smith.

Mind Altering Drugs at the Mall

I think they must gas us at the mall–spray us with some mind-altering substance.  I went in feeling great about myself, and now I feel like a slob.

I smelled something strong around the Abercrombie and Fitch.  I thought it was cologne or the scent of those special people who can actually wear Abercrombie.  But now I know what it was: drugs.

Nothing is right anymore.

My shoes don’t match my bag, and they don’t go right with these jeans.  That doesn’t matter, because the jeans are saggy around the butt so they must go.  I will slip into a pair of these hundred-dollar jeans and then all shall be well.  My t-shirt doesn’t hug my curves right, so I’ll trade it for another.  I’ll drop a hundred bucks on jewelry.  I’ll buy new makeup, I’ll…!

Collapse at Starbucks, exhausted and broke.

The coffee soothes my nerves and washes away the drugs.  I see myself for what I am: a foot-sore consumer among thousands.  No one is looking at my clothes.  No one is looking at my hair.  They are busy looking at themselves, and their saggy jeans, and their outdated shoes.

Where has my reason gone?  Wasn’t I a fiscally responsible, ‘un-shallow’, free-spirited person just yesterday?  How did I get swept into this?

Drugs, I tell you.  They alter your mind.

So I sip my iced coffee and I resolve to smile bigger, to greet the sales people with more enthusiasm, to thank them for their help, to move with grace and peace, and mostly, to slow down–to stop this frantic acquiring and actually enjoy myself.  It may be the only way I stand out in the crowd.

 

Goodbye: A Letter to my Church

It’s difficult to leave home because you can’t ever go back–not really.

The philosopher Cratylus said that you don’t even step into the same river once. For not only is the river flowing, but so are you. Everything flows forward and when you look back, home has ceased to be.

So I’m leaving with the realization that I will never truly come home.

I’m not leaving because of conflict–if I were, I would have left long ago. But I knew that like any relationship, periods of frustration and anger are par for the course, and if the relationship is as important as the one with the church, you just stick it out.

This is about growing up–about taking my place in this world.

As I’ve grown, my theology and my worldview have been in constant evolution, and I’ve realized that not all of us think and practice the same. This is normal, and okay. It’s analogous to personalities.

For a time now, I’ve felt like the round peg in the square hole. I don’t disagree with this church’s theology and practice, but they aren’t “me” either. I thought something was wrong with me at first, but now I see that I am meant to be elsewhere.

A friend connected me with a ‘cell group’ from a church here in town. I never wanted to attend there–it’s too big, to demonstrative, too ‘hocus pocus.’ But the moment I met those girls, I felt at home. I’ve never grown more, spiritually, than I have among them–praying, learning to listen to God, confessing to each other. It was, and is, uncomfortable, but I’ve come to peace with that.

I leave with deep regret because I’ll miss my friends. I’ll miss my Sunday School kids. I guess I’ll miss my identity here. I’ll never forget that this was the church that nurtured me, fostered a love of service in me, taught me to serve, to teach and to lead in song. I thank God for you, my brothers and sisters. I love you. Goodbye.

With tears,

Geralyn

Connections Between Food and Love

Is there really a connection between food and love?

I’m reading The Amazing Connection Between Food and Love, by Gary Smalley—not the kind of book you expect to be sucked into, but I was. My relationship with food has been love/hate since my teens and, though in the last four months I’ve had some major victories, I’m still seeing the emotional and physical affects of my dietary choices.

Smalley describes this cycle: Food affects our emotional health>Emotional health affects our relationships>Relationships affect physical health>Emotional/physical health affect our food choices—which affects our emotional health, and on it goes.

I considered myself a ‘food addict.’ I thought about food all day, I overate regularly, and if there was a table of sweets or snacks to be had, I’d eat like it was a contest. I couldn’t stop myself.

My Mom always fed us square, nutritious meals and we were a long ways from a convenience store, so as a kid I rarely had access to chips or candy. But when I moved out and into town, a bag of Doritos was only a five-minute walk away. And when I’d spent all day at work salivating over the thought, what could stop me from getting them?

I told myself I wasn’t massive, and my muscular frame seemed to hide that I was well over two-hundred pounds, but I knew I was overweight and I was ashamed of it. When I bought chips, I’d eat them when my sister wasn’t home and then hide them when she was around. I’d try to stuff the pizza box deep into the recycling.

‘Something’s wrong with me,’ I’d say. ‘I’m such a loser. I’ve got no self-control.’

Though working on my feet and travelling by bicycle kept me from gaining weight too fast, the constant cycle of dreaming of food, giving in and eating, and then guilt-tripping, was taking its toll. I wanted to feel like a winner.

Looking back, I believe I was an emotional eater—food was a reward, comfort, or entertainment. This set up a cycle of eating to feel better, being guilty and making myself sad, and then eating again to feel better. Plus, those foods I ate were the very sort that make the body want more: highly processed carbs, sugar and chemicals.

Did this take a toll on my relationships?

Certainly extra weight, acne (which went away when I cleaned up my diet), and failed attempts to lose weight, eroded my self-confidence. Teens have enough confusion as it is, but I was under the delusion that because I was chubby and had acne, I wasn’t good enough to be friends with the ‘pretty’ girls, and certainly not ‘girlfriend material’ for the guys. How many relationships did I miss out on because of my poor self-esteem?  Oh, if I could give my current confidence to my thirteen-year-old self.

I’m a moody person, and cleaning up my diet has only alleviated this slightly. In my mid-teens I went through a period of extreme mood swings. I’d be happy one moment, and then so irritable that no one could stand beside me because their breathing got on my nerves. My hormones were out of balance, causing issues with my menstrual cycle and causing me to sprout hair on my chin like a boy that age would.

The doctor told me I needed to lose weight and I scoffed but I did it. After a month of eating 7-8 servings of fruit and veggies a day and limiting other foods, my cycle normalized. Supplements took care of my mood-swings. I slimmed down just in time to fit into my grad dress.

What kind of pain did I cause my family because of my mood swings? Was my diet at fault?

I think it’s common knowledge that when we’re hungry, we’re tired and grumpy.  Still, it wasn’t until a few months ago that I began to truly associate food and mood.  Some of you may remember me posting about how depressed I was, coupled with a photo of me making a breakfast sandwich at 1:00 am.

My funk probably wasn’t caused by food, but I wasn’t helping it any either.

I’m still a definite foodie. I ‘have’ to enjoy my food, or I see no point in it. So, though I eat sugar free, low carb, high-protein and lots of whole foods, I still think about food several times a day. If chips are put in front of me, I still can’t say no, but if I think about buying snacks I usually say “I’ll have some on the weekend,” and when the time comes, I often don’t buy them. I still feel the need to hide junk food, but I try to make myself own up to it, and tell my Mom or sister that I had pizza on Friday night. I want to enjoy the occasional treat without shame. I guess it will take some time to work out of the old, harmful, emotional habits.

After four months of this lifestyle (read about Trim Healthy Mama here and here), I’ve seen victories beget victories. I began by controlling what I ate. After I started losing weight, I decided to try working out, and realized that I enjoyed it (the benefits at least). Now I have dreams of running a 5k race. My body confidence is higher, and my pant-size is lower but most of all, I know I can do what I say I will do. I’ve built trust with myself. No doubt, that will improve my relationships.

I plan to explore this topic further as I continue reading the book.  What do you think?  What connections between food, love and relationships have you seen in your life?

The Single Girl’s Guide to Surviving Wedding Season

Do you feel conspicuously single at weddings? I do. Golly, ‘single’ must seep out of my pores.

It’s June, and darned if we’re not in the thick of wedding season. I, the unsuspecting writer, took my laptop to the coffee shop to nurse an iced Americano, shop for book covers, and do odd internet errands, and what do I find? The girl who ‘can’t wait to try on her dress tomorrow’ is beside me.

I walked by the bulletin board at work today and saw a poster for someone’s wedding social.  Didn’t they just take one down?

Non-Manitobans, a social is a gathering where people eat, get drunk, dance, and give money to the couple… or something.

I’ve passed through one wedding already and have two ahead of me in the next three weeks. I’ve been the dutiful friend and coworker who’s oohed and ahhed over the ring, the dress, the invitations, and then hugged the bride at the wedding and sat through the speeches. I caught the bouquet (and knocked some poor chick over—read about that here), and I’m prepared to do it all over.

I’ve picked out a pretty aqua sundress. I’ve circled Home Outfitters with a gift registry (does anyone go to Home Outfitters for any other reason?) for eons looking for the one jar.

There’s a bitter-sweetness to it. I’m so happy for my friends. And, well, I’m so glad I’m not the one planning what colour the border on my invitation will be and if I should or shouldn’t invite third-cousin Steve. But they go two by two, as someone once said, and I always wonder, as I clutch the gift registry, as I sit in the pew, camera poised: when will it be my turn?

Single girls: don’t we all think that?

Don’t we all feel a little bit gut-punched when our friend announces her engagement, as she shows off the ring, as she flips through her wedding photos? Even though in our strongest moments, we remember how happy we are for our independence, and how glad we are that we’re not starting a family just yet, and we tell ourselves that we’re too busy for a relationship?

We’re not crazy for feeling that way. We’re made for love and for relationships. Our hopes and our dreams are good, natural desires. Our unfulfilled sex drive (if you’re a celibate single like me) is not evil.

It just isn’t time yet.

Now isn’t the time to pine for what you can’t have, and what you probably can’t control. Now is the time to chase your purpose, your calling, your potential. Now is the time to pursue education—to get the degree, or to delve deep into subjects you love. Now is the time for adventure—hopefully with your family or your best friends. Bungee jump, backpack Europe, go on a week-long shopping trip (like my sister and I are doing in a couple weeks. Yay!). Now is the time to learn discipline—keeping house, financial intelligence, healthy living.

Those things, once accomplished, cannot be taken from you. They are ‘safely stored in the past’ as Victor Frankl said. They will turn your life into a masterpiece whether you marry and start a family, or you are the crazy aunt who tells the best stories.  Believe it or not, there is much more to your life’s calling than ‘wife’ or ‘parent’, even though those are good things.

I hope you make the most of the now, because time isn’t waiting for you or the spouse that may be out there for you. One day you’ll wake up and ten years will have past. Will you have made anything of them?

As I said recently, the future doesn’t seem to deliver. Putting our hope on future events will just let us down. Rather, let’s work on everything we can and put the rest in God’s hands.

Single gal in the aqua sundress, the wrapped gift in her hands: cry if you want when the bride walks by. It isn’t easy to be single. But dry your tears and smile, and dance, and catch the bouquet, and laugh with all your friends around the table. Enjoy the moment, whatever it is—and perhaps soon you will find yourself where you want to be, that you are the person you want to be.

Why Christians Should Make the Best Employees

As a Christian, realizing your coworker has the same faith can be like finding a fellow countryman in a strange land—an instant connection.

But sometimes a coworker claimed to believe as I and hoped no one else knew. I remember one young guy I worked with who was often late, disappeared once for a few days (he said later he was sick), and was laughed at behind his back because he was lazy, stupid, and couldn’t be relied on to do his job well.

And then I found out he was quitting to go work at a Christian camp. I cringed.

Another time, a coworker was telling me a humorous story about another guy who used to work there who, while out in the field, would hide his vehicle and take a nap. My coworker caught him because he forgot to turn off the flashing beacon on the vehicle. He told me his name and my heart sank. I’d gone to Bible School with him.

Neither of these are isolated incidents in my short career.

It shouldn’t be this way. Christians should be the best employees. Why?

We are Ambassadors of Christ

“We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us” (1 Corinthians 5:20 NIV).

I’ve been drilled since childhood: we need to share the Gospel with our friends. But if we do not display the results of the Gospel in our lives, why should they listen to us?

Excuse me, but the fruit of the spirit is not laziness, tardiness, abrasiveness and irresponsibility. If we cannot be trusted, if the supervisor has to correct us constantly, if we take longer breaks than is our due, if we gossip and engage in political games, what proof of the Gospel is there? Faith without works is dead.

By being the example of an excellent employee, we build our platform for witness.

Work is our Divine Mission

Paul said to the slaves in Ephesus (a position more like the typical employee of our day and less like the North American slavery we are accustomed to reading about) that they should obey their earthy masters with respect and with sincerity of heart, “Not only to win their favour when their eye is on your, but like slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart. Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord,” (Ephesians 6:5-8 NIV).

Do you see what he says? “Doing the will of God from your heart.” Your work—God’s will. We serve wholeheartedly, because God has given us a job to do, and he is our true master. Even before the fall of mankind, Adam was given work to do. Work is not a punishment, but a mission.

God is leading me to see my job as a sacred calling: yes, manufacturing pharmaceuticals, a divine appointment. Every day when I walk into production and look at the board for my assignment, it isn’t just my supervisor who has given me that task, but God—my true master. Whatever I am doing, I must do it well. Whoever I am working with, I must bless.

I like calling it an assignment.  It makes me feel like a secret agent.

It’s far harder to do than to say, because by definition, excellence requires going against the current. And the current sure is strong in my workplace.  It seems I’ve failed just as many times as I’ve succeeded.  But it is fulfilling to know that my job in manufacturing is just as important as my job as a Sunday school teacher.

Your work is your mission field.

I hope to flesh this topic out further in the next couple of weeks, with the intention to write a more comprehensive ‘theology of work’. Dorothy Sayers wrote an essay on the subject, called “Why Work.” It is challenging, but incredibly affirming for those of us who don’t work in traditional Christian ‘ministries.’  

 

Mother’s Day is from Venus

“He says, ‘You’re not my mother,’” she said as I rang up her stack of clothes. That was why she was buying her own Mother’s Day gift. Her husband wasn’t going to be buying one.

Her kids, well, I dunno.

That was just the first. I kept hearing it: “I’m going to go buy some flowers, since my husband won’t be.” “I’m buying my own Mother’s Day gift.” Etcetera.

Granted, these were far outweighed by the daughters buying clothes for their moms, the little girl with the long blond hair, who came running in to pick out a necklace with her daddy, and the sheepish husbands buying gift cards, who’d never be caught dead in a women’s clothing store for any other occasion (except Christmas, when they come in droves—sheepish droves).

But I found the whole scenario rather pathetic.

Some Men Have Dropped the Ball, Here

I’d never say that all men MUST buy their wives Mother’s Day presents. You’ve got to take budget into account, and specifically, the love-language of the wife. Not everyone receives, or gives love the same way. Some prefer quality time, acts of service, physical affection or affirming words over gifts.

So if gifts aren’t her thing, well, they aren’t her thing.

But clearly these ladies would have enjoyed a gift, so…

Fail.

Women Are Lousy Communicators

I’m tempted to say that the men are at fault. I mean, if they just knew their wives, they would have known she wanted a gift.

Give them a break.  I’m not very old, but I’ve already learned that it doesn’t work that way.

I’ve stood in the kitchen with my brother and my Mom said, “This needs to go downstairs.” I heard “please take this downstairs,” and my brother heard “this needs to go downstairs.”

I carried it downstairs.

I’ve been thoroughly pissed, ready to cheerfully wring someone’s neck. And my male boss and coworkers never picked up on the steam coming from my ears. But at least they didn’t ask me why I was crying… or maybe they just didn’t notice.

They don’t know, okay? (As a qualifier, I’m not a man, and I could be wrong. Correct me if I am).

Women are LOUSY at communicating expectations.  I actually am a woman, so I think I can say this with some certainty.  We speak in subtexts and hints and only one in ten is ever picked up.  But, like Einstein’s definition of insanity, we keep on trying the same thing over and over, expecting different results.

Still, the guy who told his wife “you’re not my mother” passed up on a simple opportunity to make his wife happy.  The investment probably would have paid off in droves–you know what they say: ‘happy wife, happy life’.

So, still a fail. Big fail.

But my favourite image of the day is that of the tall young Dad with tattoos, and the little girl with the streaming blond hair perching on his knee while picking out a necklace. Her brother stood alongside, also debating what to get. Finally the daughter picked out a silver pendant. After much discussion, the dad and son decided to go with gift cards. His wife will not have to buy her own Mother’s Day gift.

I caught the bouquet. Now what?

So, I caught the bouquet at the wedding yesterday.  My friends congratulated me: “Oh, you’re gonna get married next.”

I smiled.

You see, I’m four for four. I’ve caught four bouquets at four weddings. First time: my friends Heidi and Cole were married. She flung the bouquet, an exquisite arrangement of white roses, orchids and ivy. It fell toward the hands of her sister. I batted it out of the air, and it was in my clutches. Later that evening, I pulled a rose out of it and tangoed around the dance floor with it in my teeth.

I hadn’t had a drop, I swear.

Well! The next summer, it was her sister, who’s grasping fingers I took the bouquet from, who was married. So, I stood among the single ladies on the lawn outside the church. The bride rose up on the wooden railing and flung her gerbera daisies and wildflowers over her shoulder. It fell toward her sister-in-law. I leapt in front and seized the smashed posy from midair.

Guess who got married on Valentines Day?  The sister-in-law.

I was beginning to think I was some sort of good luck charm.  Third wedding, I didn’t have to fight anyone–it was a fair catch.  But a two of the friends I came with got married the next spring–to each other.

Actually, I think all the friends I travelled with are now married except for me.  What the heck?

My coworker got married this weekend. There she was, a beautiful china doll with her big blue eyes and pearly gown. And there I was among the single ladies. They were TALL single ladies, but I was pretty sure I could manage, so I put myself right out in front. The bunch of cala lilies went up up up. They soared toward a chick in a yellow dress.

What happens next is rather blurry.  Somehow the chick in the yellow dress, bouquet in her hands, ended up sprawled on the floor and I came up with the flowers.

You’re welcome, chick in the yellow dress. Invite me to your wedding.  I’ll probably catch your bouquet too.

Why I Didn’t Watch “God’s Not Dead”

I didn’t go see the movie God’s Not Dead.  In fact, the idea of it disturbs me.

Perhaps it is hypocritical to call into question a movie which I haven’t seen, but hopefully I can be fair about this.  I’ve attempted to read up on it and get a good idea of what it is about, but I realize that any review will naturally be biased.  This is based on second-hand information.  Feel free to correct me.

That being said, essentially, I see the movie as a Christian pep-rally, propaganda movie–a sort of one-dimensional, thin portrayal that makes Christians feel good about being Christians at the expense of real thought.  Was the intention to be a ‘witnessing tool’?  An aid in apologetics?  I doubt it worked.

My beef with it is twofold.

Stereotyping and one-dimensional portrayal of non-Christians

In their review, Plugged’N (part of Focus on the Family) admits,

Pretty much everyone who’s not a Christian in this story is villainized for being mean, abusive, grouchy or narrow-minded. Several such sinners are condemned to either death or terminal illness, as if they’re being punished for their attitudes.

Obviously (the movie implies), if you’re an atheist you’re a jerk.  If you’re a Muslim, you’re going to violently kick your daughter out of the house for converting to Christianity.

That’s not a fair portrayal.

The Christians Win in the End (hurray for the good guys!)

Rembert Browne said:

This is a film in which antagonizers of Christianity are strategically given a platform to speak, just so they can be shut down.

If there’s anything that makes people irate about this movie, it is this one.  The atheist MUST be shut down, and therefore he cannot be given a true chance to speak.  Both sides cannot be argued fairly.  Why?  Is it because the questions he could ask are too hard to answer?

And what if the protagonist did not win the class over?  What if he had given his best defence and was still considered an imbecile?  What if he failed his class?  Would he be less ‘successful’?

And then, as if to make everything better, everyone ‘becomes a Christian’ in the end.

Rembert Browne again:

So yes, this movie is absurd.  It creates a fantasy world in the name of Christianity winning in the end.  It positions a David vs. Goliath scenario with the kid who believes in God and the professor who denounces that belief.  After losing to the student in the eyes of the student body, the professor has a revelation, gets hit by a car, and decides to give his life to Jesus as he lies in the street, probably dying.

And then we end with a rock concert.  What?

Perhaps what disturbs me most about this movie is that as Christians, we could do so much better.  It seems to portray unhealthy ways of engaging with our friends, neighbours, coworkers and professors.  I would rather see these two ideas promoted:

When engaging others, remember they are people.

It is entirely possible that their views are NOT well thought through, and that their religion (or lack thereof) is based on a shaky foundation.  But assume that it isn’t.  For the sake of their dignity as a human and an image-bearer of God, take the time to hear them out.  Get to the root.  What do they really believe, and what led them there?

Ravi Zacharias, Christian author and apologist, said that one of the most important qualities of an apologist is humility, and it takes humility to listen, risking that the other may have a good point to make.

Winning is not the point

There is no shame in bowing out gracefully, and there is no shame in being out-gunned. Learn from it. If you can’t win the crowd over, as long as you have spoken the truth and as long as you have conveyed God’s love and character, consider it a job well done.

I recently had a debate with a coworker that dragged on (by email) for almost a month.  A professor of mine, who I turned to for advice, urged me that arguing with him was probably not the best method.  I disregarded him at first, but I eventually realized that we were getting nowhere, and so in order to preserve the relationship, I bowed out.  It felt like caving, honestly, but it was the right thing to do.

Debates, if done well, are extremely useful.  If you keep your mind open, and focus on learning instead of winning, they will force you to reconsider what you hold dear–what is truth, and what is just pet idea of yours.  In the end, you are likely to walk away stronger (or perhaps with a new viewpoint).

If you are interested to learn how to engage people of other faiths, or defend the Christian worldview, I encourage you to listen to podcasts by Ravi Zacharias, read some of his books, or if possible, see one of his apologists in action.  Their simultaneous knowledge and humility is a great example to uphold.

By nature, a movie like this will polarize.  I get that.  Friends of mine who saw it all loved it, but it was no surprise that IMDB.com was full of vitriolic reviews (from Christian and non-Christian alike).

I expect there were instances where God’s Not Dead inspired thought.  Perhaps it stiffened the spine of some.  I appreciate the idea: stand up for your faith no matter what.  I just wish the movie-makers used a bit more wisdom in how they did it.  We, as Christians, are already viewed in stereotypes of hypocrites, bigots and intolerant fools.  Let’s not prove them right.