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The following two songs are from the music ministry of the Cathedral Church of the Advent in downtown Birmingham, Alabama. The ministry flourished under the leadership of Rev. Dr. Zac Hicks, who served as the church’s canon for worship and liturgy from 2016 to 2021. (He is now pastor of Church of the Cross, also in Birmingham.)
The music videos used to be available on YouTube, but it appears that the church has undergone some restructuring, and they have been removed. For now, though, they are still available through Facebook, and the audio releases are available through streaming services.
>> “Lord, Who Throughout These Forty Days”: This 1873 hymn by Claudia Frances Hernaman recounts the forty days Jesus spent in fasting and prayer in the Judean wilderness at the outset of his ministry and beseeches God to give us strength, like Jesus, to fight temptation, to die to self, and to live by his word and with a keen sense of his abiding presence. It’s set to an American folk tune from the Sacred Harp tradition, known as LAND OF REST, which has roots in the ballads of northern England and Scotland. The hymn is sung by Madison Craig (née Hablas), with Emma Lawton (née Dry) and Annie Lee on background vocals, Joey Seales on pump organ, Charley Rowe on cajon, and Zac Hicks on acoustic guitar.
>> “Spring Up, O Well”: This is an original song by Zac Hicks, sung by Jordan Brown. It draws especially on the narrative in John 4, where Jesus tells a Samaritan woman at a well, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (vv. 13–14). The exclamation “Spring up, O well!” in the song’s refrain comes from Numbers 21:17, where the Israelites praise God for providing them water in the desert, and that musical phrase is adapted from the old children’s church song “I’ve Got a River of Life.”
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SHORT FILM: “Silences,” dir. Nathan Clarke: Shot in 2016 at Box Canyon near Laity Lodge in the Texas Hill Country, this contemplative short film features cellist Steuart Pincombe playing a short improvisation that interacts with the natural space. The impromptu music making was for him an exercise in prayer.
Three years earlier, also while on retreat at Laity Lodge, Pincombe’s wife shot him doing the same inside the newly constructed Threshold, an interactive, site-specific, permanent outdoor installation by Roger Feldman consisting of three curved walls:
The Threshold improvisation, Pincombe writes, “stemmed from a particular note (and its harmonic overtones) that naturally resonated in the space—the cello’s lowest strings were tuned to match this strongest resonation. Playing with the confusion of resonances (or pitches) was an important part of this short musical and spatial exploration—pitches are bent or adjusted in a way that create audible pulses in the sound and play on the conflicts of resonation within the space.”
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ESSAY: “Silence in an Age of Mass Media: John Cage and the Art of Living” by Dr. Jonathan A. Anderson, ARTS (Spring 2017): Many twentieth- and twenty-first-century artists have explored the necessities and possibilities for aesthetic stillness and silence, Anderson writes. In this essay he considers the composer John Cage (1912–1992), best known—and most excoriated—for his modernist piano composition 4′33″ (1952), in which the pianist sits at the bench for four minutes and thirty-three seconds, playing no notes. The point was to attune the audience to the ambient sounds of the concert hall (coughing, rustling, creaking, mechanical humming, outside traffic, etc.), testing the distinction between “music” and “noise.” Cage found the fundamental difference between the two to be not in the qualities of sound but in the attentiveness of the listener.
I was pleasantly surprised to learn from Anderson’s article that even after Cage left Christianity (in which he was raised) and turned to Zen Buddhism, he continued to link his love for the givenness of environmental sounds to Jesus’s admonition to “consider the lilies” (Luke 12:27). “Cage sought to quiet his own aesthetic ‘worry’ for musical meaning,” Anderson writes, “and to instead receive the given sounds of the world as richly meaningful in themselves.”
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VIDEO: Lenten Jazz Vespers, Duke University Chapel, March 23, 2023: This Jazz Vespers service combines the liturgical traditions of Vespers with the musical improvisation of jazz. Exploring the theme of hope, the service is presided over by Rev. Racquel C. N. Gill, minister for intercultural engagement at Duke University Chapel. Musical leadership is provided by the John Brown Little Big Band.
Here are the time stamps:
0:01: Song: “I Came to Tell You” by Trinity Inspirational Choir
5:40: Welcome and Prayer
8:33: Song: “Miracle (It’s Time for Your Miracle)” by Marvin Sapp
14:38: Poetry reading: “Dark Testament (8)” by Pauli Murray
NEW BOOK: A Whole Life in Twelve Movies: A Cinematic Journey to a Deeper Spirituality by Kathleen Norris and Gareth Higgins: Published last October by Brazos Press, this excellent book comprises twelve chapters reflecting on fourteen movies (two chapters feature a complementary pair), drawing out story, insights, and meaning. It’s authored by the award-winning American spiritual memoirist and poet Kathleen Norris (Acedia and Me; The Cloister Walk; Dakota: A Spiritual Geography) and the Irish writer, peace activist, retreat leader, and festival organizer Gareth Higgins. Each chapter contains two mini-essays—one by each author, the second responding to the first, sometimes disagreeing on points—and a section of “Questions and Conversation,” which make the book especially fitting for a film/reading club. There’s also a “For Further Viewing” section in the back, with many more recommendations, several of which are new to me and which I’ve been watching (e.g., Le Havre, Love Is Strange, Patti Cake$) and really enjoying!
I so appreciate the variety of films featured in the book—which come from different eras, cultures, and genres and address different themes—and I like that the writers don’t overdetermine the films’ meanings to try to make them fit a Christian agenda, which is sometimes a trap that people writing on Christianity and film fall into (influenced partly, I’m sure, by publishers’ demands, to make the marketing easier). Norris and Higgins are simply two Christians writing about their shared love of cinema, and I had so much fun listening in on their conversations.
You may also want to check out the Substack that Norris and Higgins write together, Soul Telegram: Movies & Meaning, whose purpose is “to help people find the most life-giving movies, and to write about them as a way of reflecting on the meaning of our lives.” See also the recent Habit podcast episode “Kathleen Norris watches movies,” where Norris discusses Paterson, Babette’s Feast, After Life, and more.
>> “Sawubona”(I See You) by Jane Ramseyer Miller, 2012: The most common greeting used by Zulu people is “Sawubona,” literally meaning “I see you,” with the implication of “My whole attention is with you. I value you.” The word conveys a deep witnessing and presence, acknowledgment and connection. A standard reply is “Ngikhona,” “I am here.” This humanity-honoring exchange that occurs regularly in South Africa was set to music by the American choral director Jane Ramseyer Miller and is performed in the video below by the Justice Choir, a grassroots movement that encourages more community singing for social and environmental justice.
The song is authorized for free noncommercial use, and sheet music is available from the Justice Choir Songbook.
In this recent podcast interview, he talks about his most amazing teaching experience to date; helping Protestants like himself recover a sacramental ontology of the world; asking questions verbally versus aesthetically; death and mortality; what conceptual art is, and why it’s “real art”; what the esteemed Roger Scruton got wrong in his documentary Why Beauty Matters; the “Art of Attention” study he conducted with a psychophysiology colleague in the modern wing of the Art Institute of Chicago (which I participated in! here’s one of the three pieces I was tasked with looking at for five straight minutes while hooked up to a heart-rate monitor); and why artists inspire him.
VIDEO INTERVIEW: “VCS Creative Conversations: Ben Quash with Steve Reich”: “This film continues our series of ‘Creative Conversations’. In these conversations, living artists working in a variety of different artistic media discuss how the Bible and its legacies of visual and theological interpretation operate as a vital resource for their own creativity. In this film, VCS [Visual Commentary on Scripture] Director Ben Quash interviews the legendary American contemporary composer Steve Reich. They discuss the profound role of the Bible in transforming both the subject matter and the style of Reich’s music, reflecting especially on his settings of the Abraham story, the episode of Jacob’s ladder, and texts from the Psalms.”
11. Dancing Queen, dir. Aurora Gossé. This coming-of-age dramedy from Norway was not promoted at all in the US but quietly arrived on Google Play early this year—thanks to my YouTube algorithm for suggesting it! Seventh-grade Mina (Liv Elvira Kippersund Larsson) has a crush on Edwin (Vilijar Knutsen Bjaadal), aka E.D. Win, a hip-hop dancer with a large social media following who has just transferred to her school. Despite having no dance experience, Mina decides to audition for his crew ahead of a local competition, and she enlists her grandma (Anne Marit Jacobsen) to train her, and her best friend Markus (Sturla Harbitz) to help her practice the partner work. The film is so endearing, even if a bit predictable in its beats.
12. Ghostlight, dir. Alex Thompson and Kelly O’Sullivan. Dan (Keith Kupferer) is a construction worker who’s grieving a grave loss and is unwilling to open up about it with his wife Sharon (Tara Mallen) and daughter Daisy (Katherine Mallen Kupferer). (The three actors are father-mother-daughter in real life.) One day he inadvertently stumbles into a rehearsal of a community theater production of Romeo and Juliet. The head of the troupe, Rita (Dolly De Leon), invites him to stay, which he reluctantly does. He’s never acted before, but he finds himself taking on a role in the play, which helps him connect with his emotions and with other people and begin his healing journey.
Streaming on AMC+.
13. Janet Planet, dir. Annie Baker. The free-spirited but weary Janet (Julianne Nicholson) lives with her eleven-year-old daughter, Lacy (Zoe Ziegler), in western Massachusetts, running an acupuncture practice out of their home. Lacy is lonely and quirky and craves her mom’s affection; Janet gives it but is usually also absorbed in some kind of interpersonal entanglement. Over the summer of 1991, during which the film is set, a succession of three visitors come in and out of Janet’s life: a live-in boyfriend, a woman trying to escape a cult, and said cult leader. Lacy tolerates these ephemeral presences but wishes her mom were more exclusively available to her. The film is about Lacy learning to share her mom with others and coming to grips with the fact that she is not the only person her mom needs. The last scene, where Lacy comes to this realization while watching her mom contradancing, gutted me!
Streaming on Max.
14. Green Border, dir. Agnieszka Holland. This film is a difficult watch. It dramatizes the humanitarian crisis precipitated in fall 2021 when Alexander Lukashenko, the dictator of Belarus, lured several thousand asylum seekers from the Middle East and Africa to his country with the promise of free transit to the European Union, then dumped them on the borders of Poland, Lithuania, and Latvia as payback for EU sanctions against Belarus. Green Border focuses on a Syrian refugee family of six (Jalal Altawil plays the father) and an Afghan woman (Behi Djanati Atai) they befriend on the plane ride over—their being tossed (like a football, as one character laments) back and forth across the militarized Polish-Belarussian border, cold and hungry, with neither country willing to receive them.
The film also follows two Poles: border guard Jan (Tomasz Wlosok), who contracts PTSD, and budding activist Julia (Maja Ostaszewska), who joins a group providing water, food, clothing, first aid, power banks, and legal counsel to those crossing the forested swampland into Poland. We see one aid worker cradling the head of a hypothermic refugee as she spoon-feeds him hot soup, and another tenderly rubbing ointment onto the swollen, blistered feet of a weary woman traveler. Sadly, government policy has made these tangible acts of loving care acts of political resistance and grounds for arrest. But there’s a double standard at play, as we see in the epilogue.
Streaming on Kanopy.
15. Juror #2, dir. Clint Eastwood. A taut legal thriller, Juror #2 is all about conscience. Family man Justin (Nicholas Hoult) finds himself on the jury of a murder trial, and when the details of the alleged crime are revealed, he realizes he may have been the unwitting perpetrator. He is torn between his integrity and his self-preservation instincts, between his loyalty to the law and his loyalty to his wife and soon-to-be-born child. What I like about the film is how it prompts you to consider what you would do in the same situation—let someone with less to lose and with lower morals take the fall (the defendant, a single man with gang involvement, is a known abuser of women, and the prosecution has a strong case against him), or own up to what you know and have your and your family’s lives upended.
Streaming on Max.
16. Kneecap, dir. Rich Peppiatt. UNESCO classifies the Irish language as “endangered,” as the number of native speakers has continued to decline ever since English became the national language during British rule. However, more recently there’s been an urban revival, owing in part to the proliferation of Irish-language immersion schools—and to the popularity of Kneecap, a hip-hop trio from West Belfast who rap mostly in Irish, for them a sign of national identity and pride. Formed in 2017, they’re a controversial group whose lyrics often contain Irish republican themes along with profanity and references to drugs and sex. Many young Irish people have embraced them and been inspired by their music to learn Irish.
Band members Liam Ó Hannaidh (stage name Mo Chara), Naoise Ó Caireallain (Móglaí Bap), and JJ Ó Dochartaigh (DJ Próvai) play versions of themselves in this riotous, fictionalized origin story that compelled me mostly because of its fresh take on the musical biopic genre and in how it addresses the politicization of language. Also, it’s funny. But expect irreverence.
Streaming on Netflix.
17. The Outrun, dir. Nora Fingscheidt. Based on the best-selling memoir by Amy Liptrot, The Outrun follows Rona (Saoirse Ronan), an alcoholic in her late twenties who drops out of her PhD program in biology and returns to the remote Orkney Islands of Scotland, where she grew up, to pursue recovery. Rona is closely attuned to the natural forces around her, which gives the film an elemental quality, and Ronan attacks the role with an admirable ferocity. It’s a vital portrait of addiction and the journey to and through sobriety. Unlike some other films that tackle the subject, it doesn’t revel in the character’s misery; it shows the destructiveness of addiction, for sure, but it also shows Rona finding happiness along the way in things other than drink, like dancing with neighbors, barking at seals, baking bread, collecting and drawing seaweed, or pretending she’s a sailor at sea.
18. We Live in Time, dir. John Crowley. In nonlinear fashion, this affecting rom dram traces the relationship of Tobias (Andrew Garfield) and Almut (Florence Pugh), from their initial meeting in a hospital hallway, to the birth of their daughter, to Almut’s death from cancer, and a hundred little moments in between. It’s a beautiful picture of committed romantic love and how it negotiates change, crisis, and conflicting aspirations, but also the many joys it holds.
19. The Remarkable Life of Ibelin, dir. Benjamin Ree. The subject of this Norwegian documentary is Mats Steen (1989–2014), a video gamer who was born with Duchenne disease, a rare form of muscular dystrophy. When he died at age twenty-five, his parents had thought he lived an isolated life. But then they started receiving emails from strangers, numbering in the hundreds, who knew Mats through the online role-playing game World of Warcraft, where Mats interacted with friends daily as the character Ibelin Redmoore.
To bring Mats’s story to life, the film starts out conventionally, with home video footage from and interviews with the family. But then it transitions into animated segments that re-create some of Mats’s personal experiences within the world of the game. An actor voices Mats using Mats’s own words, taken from gaming transcripts and blog posts. These segments are interspersed with in-person interviews with some of Ibelin’s fellow Starlight guild members. I appreciate how the film challenges the stereotype of video games as shallow, time-wasting, and solitary, showing how for Mats, who had limited mobility, they were a means of exercising agency and cultivating meaningful connections with people all over the world.
Streaming on Netflix.
20. A Different Man, dir. Aaron Schimberg. Part dark comedy, part psychological thriller, this film stars Sebastian Stan as Edward, a man living with neurofibromatosis, which causes noncancerous tumors to grow on nerve tissue. He undergoes an experimental procedure that undoes his facial disfigurement and thrusts him into an identity crisis, even more so when he meets a man named Oswald (Adam Pearson) who looks a lot like his presurgery self. He envies Oswald’s confidence and charisma and feels increasingly threatened by him when Oswald is cast to play a version of him in a stage play written by his former next-door neighbor Ingrid (Renate Reinsve). We’re made to wonder whether there’s something insidious about Oswald, or Edward’s insecurities are just acting up.
Writer-director Aaron Schimberg, who has a cleft palate, said this film arose in part from his own contradictory feelings about his disfigurement, and the odd experience of looking in a mirror after having had multiple surgeries and wondering if the face he sees is his own or one that was only created by doctors. He also said he wanted to write a role for Pearson, whom he had worked with before, that defies the two roles he is typically offered—either a sympathetic victim who’s deemed heroic simply for existing, or a horror villain—and that makes use of his naturally gregarious, extroverted personality.
Of the 102 films I’ve seen that were released in the United States in 2024, these are my top ten. I’ll reveal my top eleven through twenty in a “part 2” post in the next few days.
Although I typically draw spiritual, theological, or liturgical connections with the art I feature on this website, here I do not do that. I’ve chosen these films not based on any kind of Christian messaging or interpretive possibilities but because they are beautifully made films that resonated with me. They address themes such as family, friendship, simplicity and awe, repressive governments, growing up, grief, mortality, addiction, trauma, joy, disability, identity.
One thing I love about cinema, as holds true with all the arts, is how it can connect us more fully to God, others, the world, and our own selves. So while I don’t think you need to watch movies with a purpose in mind, if you find yourself hesitant to invest the time, perhaps you might consider that connective capacity.
If the film is currently streaming for free with a subscription service, I’ve noted that at the bottom of the entry. Otherwise, check your local theaters or online rental platforms.
Cautionary note: Different viewers have different sensitivities. If there’s a particular type of content you want to avoid, I’d advise you to check out the “Parents’ Guide” section of the film’s IMDb webpage, to which I’ve linked each film title.
1. How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies, dir. Pat Boonnitipat: From Thailand comes this tender story of a late teenage boy, M (Putthipong “Billkin” Assaratanakul), who quits his job as a video game streamer to become the live-in caretaker of his ailing amah (maternal grandmother) (Usha Seamkhum) in the hopes of inheriting her house when she dies. While initially motivated by self-interest, M develops genuine affection and gratitude for his grandma the more time he spends with her—getting up early with her each morning to make and sell congee at the street market, bringing her to the temple to pray, sitting with her during chemotherapy sessions (one of the most moving scenes is when he picks off the loose hairs she’s been shedding, one by one, from her sweater while she rests in her chemo chair). The balance of humor—conveyed especially through Amah’s feistiness—and sadness—loneliness, familial hurt and estrangement, terminal illness—is deftly handled and the emotional climax well earned.
2. Daughters, dir. Angela Patton and Natalie Rae. Pursuing the initiative of a group of young Black girls at Camp Diva Leadership Academy (now merged with Girls For A Change), Virginia-based community activist Angela Patton has helped organize a series of daddy-daughter dances in US prisons, a chance for K–12 girls to connect in person and make memories with their incarcerated fathers. This documentary captures one of those dances from 2019, following Aubrey, Santana, Raziah, and Ja’Ana over the course of eight years—before, during, and after the event. These girls and their fathers speak their sorrows, fears, insights, disappointments, and hopes, shedding light on the impact of parental incarceration and especially the rise, since 2014, of no-touch and even screen-only prison visits.
I appreciate that the film shows the complexity of the father-daughter bond, avoiding a simplistic portrait of that bond as either wholly resilient or frankly unmendable. The dance is not a triumph for all participants. While all at least have a desire to show up for each other, forgiveness and trust don’t always come easily. Nor does conversation, when you’ve been separated from someone for so long and barely know them.
Surely a contender for scene of the year is when the girls come down the hallway in their dresses, hand in hand and proud but nervous, to greet their fathers, who sit in a row of folding chairs in borrowed suits and ties. The men’s reactions are precious.
Streaming on Netflix.
3. Dìdi, dir. Sean Wang. Dìdi means “little brother” in Mandarin, and Chinese parents also use the term as an endearment for their younger sons. In this semiautobiographical dramedy from writer-director Sean Wang, it references the lead character Chris (Izaac Wang), a thirteen-year-old Taiwanese American boy growing up in Fremont, California. It’s 2008, the summer before high school, and all the awkwardness and anxieties of adolescent boyhood are upon him. He’s trying to fit in with a skater crowd and to figure out how to flirt with girls, and he’s navigating turbulent relationships with his mom (Joan Chen), who he feels is ashamed of him, and his sister (Shirley Chen), his only sibling, who’s getting ready to leave for college. Also living in the house is his nai nai (paternal grandmother) (Zhang Li Hua), played by Sean Wang’s actual grandma. The film is cringey in all the right ways, capturing that pubescent period we’ve all gone through of insecurity, immaturity, pressure, and desperation. Izaac Wang’s is one of my favorite performances of the year, especially for the vulnerability he lets us see in his character.
Streaming on Peacock.
4. Perfect Days, dir. Wim Wenders. This serene drama contains little plot, dialogue, or conflict and yet is absorbing to watch. It’s built around the daily routine of Hirayama (Kôji Yakusho), a custodial worker in Tokyo whose job is to clean public toilets. We watch him wake up, fold his bedding, water his plants, brush his teeth, put on his royal blue jumpsuit, and walk outside to greet a new day. He sanitizes toilet bowls, sweeps floors, and wipes mirrors, taking great pride and care in his work. He occasionally pauses to appreciate moments of beauty: children playing in the park, leaves glimmering in sunlight. He eats dinner at a restaurant where he’s friends with the proprietor. Then he reads at home by lamplight before falling asleep. His is a quiet life and a full one. His attentiveness and gratitude call us to the same.
Streaming on Hulu.
5. Sing Sing, dir. Greg Kwedar.Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) is a program at New York’s Sing Sing Correctional Facility in which professional teaching artists lead year-round workshops inside the prison in theater, dance, music, creative writing, and visual arts. The drama Sing Sing spotlights the acting troupe as they put on a production of Breakin’ the Mummy’s Code, a time-traveling epic they helped come up with that involves an Egyptian prince, gladiators, pirates, cowboys, Robin Hood, and Hamlet. Starring Colman Domingo as the real-life John “Divine G” Whitfield (who was a founding member of RTA and who makes a cameo appearance), Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin as himself, and an ensemble cast of other formerly incarcerated RTA participants, the film celebrates the transformative, therapeutic power of the arts, as the men find vulnerability, agency, creativity, confidence, connection, and release. It’s a real heart-warmer!
6.Nickel Boys, dir. RaMell Ross. Based on the Pulitzer Prize–winning novel by Colson Whitehead, this lyrical film is set in the Jim Crow era primarily at Nickel Academy, a state-run juvenile “reform school” (essentially a prison farm) in Florida, inspired by the real-life Dozier School for Boys that operated from 1900 to 2011, where hundreds of students were subjected to forced labor and physical and/or sexual abuse. The remains of several dozen boys have recently been unearthed from unmarked graves on the school grounds, many presumed to be victims of excessive punishment.
Nickel Boys centers on Elwood (Ethan Herisse), a high-achieving high schooler who gets sent to Nickel after hitching a ride in, unbeknown to him, a stolen car. There he becomes friends with Turner (Brandon Wilson). Despite the harrowing backdrop of their relationship, the boys share moments of leisure and joy, and for any violence that occurs, the director made the deliberate choice to portray it offscreen.
The film is shot almost entirely in double first-person POV, switching between the perspectives of Elwood and Turner. I had heard this beforehand and was skeptical that it would work for an entire movie, worried that it might come across as gimmicky, but on the contrary, it worked beautifully. I was mesmerized by the compositional poetics from the very beginning, by how the use of what the director calls “sentient perspective” allows us to get inside moments in a new way. (Shout-out to cinematographer Jomo Fray for, alongside director RaMell Ross, developing and executing such an evocative visual language; for an enthusiastic, in-depth conversation Fray has on his process, approach, and choices for the film, see here.) Before we meet Turner, a decade-plus earlier in the timeline, we see young Elwood’s face only in reflections—in the chrome plating of his grandma’s iron as he watches her do house chores, or through a window display of televisions that are broadcasting King’s “Our God Is Marching On” speech, before which Elwood stands transfixed. Then later we get to see him through Turner’s eyes. That characters look straight into the camera when they address the two mains creates an atypical intimacy and directness.
7. The Seed of the Sacred Fig, dir. Mohammad Rasoulof: Shot in secret and smuggled out of Iran, this thriller is about a family of four in Tehran who become increasingly divided as the Woman, Life, Freedom movement takes hold in 2022, demanding the end of compulsory hijab laws and other forms of oppression against women. Because the protest and crackdown scenes could not be re-created without attracting scrutiny, the director spliced in documentary footage that had been captured on various anonymous cellphones, some of which, I’ll warn, graphicly depicts police brutality and its aftermath.
In the film, the head of household, Iman (Missagh Zareh), works as an investigator in the country’s Islamic Revolutionary Court, signing death warrants against those who have violated sharia law, much to the chagrin of his daughters, Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki), who sympathize with the antigovernment protestors. Their mom, Najmeh (Soheila Golestani), tries to run interference between them and Iman and maintain normalcy, tradition, and respect in the home. But when Iman’s gun goes missing, chaos ensues; he becomes increasingly paranoid and unhinged.
Writer-director Mohammad Rasoulof has served jailtime before for his criticism of the Iranian government, and to avoid his latest eight-year prison sentence, he escaped the country illegally in 2024 and currently resides in self-exile in Berlin.
8. A Real Pain, dir. Jesse Eisenberg. After the recent death of their grandmother, a Holocaust survivor, two Jewish American cousins embark on a tour of Poland to visit her childhood home and connect with their heritage. David (Jesse Eisenberg) is straitlaced, shy, and anxious, whereas Benji (Kieran Culkin) is loud, uninhibited, fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants, devil-may-care. This clash of personalities makes for a funny film, but we also come to see that behind Benji’s bluster there is, as the title gestures toward, “a real pain.” (The more frivolous meaning, of course, is that Benji is exasperating!) Both comedic and serious, the film succeeds in pulling off its dual tone while exploring relational dynamics and different ways of dealing with pain and trauma.
Streaming on Hulu.
9. All We Imagine as Light, dir. Payal Kapadia. Prabha (Kani Kusruti) and Anu (Divya Prabha) live together as apartment mates in multicultural Mumbai and work as hospital nurses. Prabha’s husband lives in Germany and rarely communicates with her, and Anu is dating a young Muslim man, against her Hindu parents’ wishes. When their friend Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam) becomes widowed, she is evicted from her shantytown, and they help her move back to her home village by the sea. The film is about sisterhood and longing—about these three women of different ages each pursuing a light-filled future in their own way.
10.Nowhere Special, dir. Uberto Pasolini. This warm, affectionate, tragic film set in Belfast was inspired by a newspaper headline: “Father dying of cancer spent his final months finding family for son.” When John (James Norton), a single dad who’s thirty-three, is diagnosed with brain cancer, he starts looking for a home for his four-year-old boy, Michael (Daniel Lamont). He partners with social workers to interview potential parents and tries to prepare Michael for what’s coming. A dead beetle in the park becomes an opportunity to teach him about death.
A premise like this could easily become over-the-top sentimental, but much to the film’s credit, and owing in part to the contained performances of the two leads, it does not. There’s both a sweetness and a sadness to it, as we watch father and son build ordinary memories before their imminent separation: they take naps together, wash their respective vehicles, enjoy ice cream cones in the park, watch dump trucks in action. As John becomes progressively weaker, Michael notices: he observes how his dad now needs to use two hands to pour a cup of OJ; he sees him wincing in pain when he thinks he’s not looking. Despite the heartbreaking scenario, the film is ultimately hopeful.
VIDEO MEDITATION: “Yearning and Promise (Advent),” dir. Lauralee Farrer (2017): The first in the seven-part Liturgical Meditations series produced by Fuller Studio (a resource center affiliated with Fuller Theological Seminary), this four-minute video features Advent scripture readings by Fuller alum Paul Mpishi (MDiv, ’17) in his native Swahili, set to beautiful cinematography by Lindsey Sheets, Timothy Kay, and Jordan McMahon.
“Yearning and Promise” explores Advent and the expectant longing for the birth of Christ through cityscapes, wilderness, and water from Chicago and Malibu, with scriptures drawn from Isaiah 40 and Matthew 1. The audio for this video is in Swahili with subtitles in English, Spanish, Mandarin, and Korean—a poetic way to represent the primary tongues of our community. . . .
The liturgical calendar spans the life of Christ in a single year—from anticipation (Advent), to hope (Christmas), to transcendence (Epiphany), to lament (Lent), to redemption (Easter), to the birth of the church (Pentecost), and through long, numbered days (Ordinary Time) back to Advent. The liturgical meditation series to which this video belongs relies on nature to tell the story of God, accompanied by scriptures traditional to each season.
Piero della Francesca (Italian, ca. 1415–1492), Madonna del Parto, after 1457. Detached fresco, 100 × 80 in. (260 × 203 cm). Musei Civici Madonna del Parto, Monterchi, Italy.
>> “Lord, Remind Me” by Jon and Valerie Guerra: From their album It’s Almost Christmas! Jon Guerra writes in the YouTube video description about how most days, hope feels naive; about the narratives in which we misplace our trust; about how Jesus, in his coming, tells a different narrative and brings our hope to fruition.
At Christmastime, Guerra writes,
Christians . . . celebrat[e] the arrival of a “shoot from Jesse’s stump.” It’s a transgressive celebration of fragility and vulnerability. We wanted a fully matured tree—God gave us a shoot coming from a stump. We wanted a strong leader—God gave us a vulnerable baby. We wanted a strength that dominates—God gave us a weakness that submits. We wanted victory—God gave us defeat, destitution, death.
How is this defying of our expectations hopeful? Well, theology at its atomic level says this: God is love. God doesn’t love as a decisive action, as though tomorrow the decision could be reversed. God is, always, love.
That love is not only towards humanity—it becomes humanity. It is not only compassionate towards the broken—it becomes the broken. It is unconditional love that becomes death—and in so doing, defeats it. It defies our expectations only to exceed to them.
So here’s to remembering hope in God’s unconditional love towards the desolate stumpiness of ourselves and the world this season—and to believing that this is not the end of the story. Lord, remind me.
>> “His Name Is Jesus” by Keiko Ying: Released this month on YouTube, this children’s Advent song by Keiko Ying celebrates Jesus as Emmanuel, “God with us.” Here is the lead sheet. The drawings and animation in the music video are by the songwriter’s thirteen-year-old daughter, Clara. [HT: Global Christian Worship]
SPOTIFY PLAYLIST: August 2024 (Art & Theology): An assortment of psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, old and new.
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OBITUARIES:
>> Jürgen Moltmann (1926–2024): Jürgen Moltmann, one of the leading Christian theologians of the twentieth century, died June 3 at age ninety-eight. His conversion to Christianity began while he was a German soldier in a POW camp in Belgium during World War II, and he afterward spent most of his career as a theology professor at the University of Tübingen, confronting the theological implications of Auschwitz, among other topics. The pastors of the first church I joined as an adult were deeply influenced by Moltmann (and his protégé Miroslav Volf), so I have been shaped by his theology, especially in the areas of theodicy (which he binds inextricably to Christology) and eschatology.
Moltmann challenged the classical doctrine of divine impassibility, which says God does not feel pain or have emotions, in his seminal book The Crucified God (1974), articulating how God the Father, not just God the Son, is a being who feels and is moved and who also suffered on Good Friday; understanding this, he says, is key to understanding how God relates to the suffering of the world. In Theology of Hope (1964), Moltmann tackled eschatology, which he defines not as the theology of last things but as the theology of hope; not of the end of time but of the fullness of time toward which God is moving all creation, even now. The gospel, he says, must be taken as good news not just of a past event (the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ) but also of a promised future, with vast implications for the present.
>> Bernice Johnson Reagon (1942–2024):Bernice Johnson Reagon [previously], a civil rights activist who cofounded The Freedom Singers and later started the African American vocal ensemble Sweet Honey in the Rock, died July 16 at age eighty-one. I’m so inspired by her Christian witness through nonviolent resistance and music—her songs are on regular rotation in my house.
Beauty isn’t necessarily pretty, pleasant, soothing, Vander Lugt says. Beauty is whatever makes our being gasp a little—whether in delight, or in terrified awe. Beauty demands attention. It also dislodges us from the center of the story, Vander Lugt continues—it unselfs us, in a way, curving us outward. It can be present in what’s torn. (“God goes belonging to every riven thing,” as the poet Christian Wiman puts it.)
I was struck by a remark that Howell, the host, who is a pastor, made near the beginning of the conversation: he said preachers should be less like an instructor imparting moral lessons and more like a docent at an art museum who points out the beauty of the paintings, drawing people’s eyes to its various aspects. What a compelling way to frame the ministry of preaching!
>> Malcolm Guite on Poetry and the Imagination, The Habit: Conversations with Writers about Writing (Rabbit Room), May 7, 2020: In the eleventh poem of his “Station Island” cycle, Seamus Heaney writes about “the need and chance // To salvage everything, to re-envisage / The zenith and glimpsed jewels of any gift / Mistakenly abased.” In this podcast episode, poet-priest Malcolm Guite [previously] talks with host Jonathan Rogers about the “salvaging of the mistakenly abased gift of imagination.” Imagination, Guite says, is as much a truth-bearing faculty as reason; in order to know things well, wemust engage the imagination. It’s not about a private, subjective world or inward fantasies devised to compensate for the cruelty of the world; it’s about truly seeing.
One of the gifts mistakenly abased by our culture for about the last two or three hundred years is the gift of the imagination. We’ve sidelined it so it’s only about the subjective, [whereas] out there is the objective world of dry, rational facts. And we’ve abased that gift of intuitively knowing the truth and value of things and expressing that in warm and poetic imagery, rather than simply reducing everything to a set of tiny particles or mathematical formulae.
—Malcolm Guite
The Romantic poets, for example, Guite says, “aimed at awakening the mind’s attention, removing the film of familiarity and restoring to us that vision of the freshness and depth of nature for which we have eyes that see not, ears that hear not, and hearts that neither feel nor understand. So they weren’t trying to make stuff up. They were trying to take away this film which [Samuel Taylor Coleridge] says our selfishness and solicitousness have cast over the world, and unveil a deeper but equally real truth about nature which is more than just the surfaces we see.”
Also in this conversation, Guite reveals the poet who made him want to be a poet, the poem that prompted his reconversion to Christianity, what we lost when poetry changed from oral to written, and why he writes poetry in meter.
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SHORT FILM SERIES: SparkShorts, produced by Pixar, streaming on Disney+: Did you know Pixar Animation Studios launched an experimental shorts initiative in 2017, giving employees the opportunity, through funding and resourcing, to flex their creative muscles with a great measure of freedom? “The SparkShorts program is designed to discover new storytellers, explore new storytelling techniques, and experiment with new production workflows,” says Pixar President Jim Morris. “These films are unlike anything we’ve ever done at Pixar, providing an opportunity to unlock the potential of individual artists and their inventive filmmaking approaches on a smaller scale than our normal fare.”
Eleven SparkShorts have been released since 2019, all streaming on Disney+. Here are my favorites:
>>Self, dir. Searit Kahsay Huluf: Released February 2, 2024, this stop-motion–CGI hybrid is about a woman who self-sabotages to belong. Writer-director Searit Kahsay Huluf says it was inspired by her family story: her mother immigrated to the US from Ethiopia to escape a civil war and had to learn how to assimilate without losing herself, and as a second-generation African immigrant growing up in Los Angeles, she herself wrestled with identity issues. The way in which Huluf tells the story is beautiful, clever, and kind of dark! Notice the differentiation of textures and sound between the wood of the main character (portrayed by a puppet) and the metal of the “Goldies.”
>> Float, dir. Bobby Rubio: A father discovers his infant son has a unique characteristic that differentiates him from others and then tries to hide him to avoid judgment—but when doing so visibly deflates his son’s spirit, he vulnerably releases him out into the world to be who he is. Writer-director Bobby Rubio created Float for his son, Alex, who is on the autism spectrum. As a dad, Rubio initially struggled with the diagnosis, and this is his story of learning to embrace the beauty of it. It’s one of the few portrayals of a Filipino American family on film, and a warmhearted celebration of neurodivergence—or any other type of divergence.
>> Nona, dir. Louis Gonzales: Nona is looking forward to a day to herself to just chill in front of the TV, watching her favorite show, E.W.W. Smashdown Wrestling. But when her five-year-old granddaughter is unexpectedly dropped off, she has to adapt her plans—begrudgingly at first. Writer-director Louis Gonzales says Nona is based on his own grandma, with whom he shared a love of wrestling. I appreciate how the film addresses dealing with disruptions to a cherished routine; it’s honest about the frustration (even if the disrupter is someone you love dearly!) while also showing how a gracious, go-with-the-flow attitude can unlock surprising new joys. What a fitting watch for the current season of Ordinary Time!
There are many great movies that spotlight the positive role of family, friendship, and community, showing how humans are built for interdependence. For this article of recommendations, I’ve chosen a narrower subset of that theme: movies about a character or characters who don’t have community at the beginning, or who aren’t receptive to it, but who find it throughout the course of the story. That may sound cliché, but I promise, all five selections are nonsappy and bring something new to the table.
What movie(s) would you add to the list? Also, what other thematic film lists would you like to see on this website?
Will (Hugh Grant) sits through an uncomfortable Christmas dinner at Fiona’s house (the main course: nutloaf), having been invited by her son, Marcus, in this scene from About a Boy.
1. About a Boy (2002), dir. Chris Weitz and Paul Weitz. In general, my favorite type of movie is one that makes me both laugh and cry. About a Boy hits that spot. Based on a novel of the same name by Nick Hornby, it stars Hugh Grant as Will, a thirty-something single man who lives a carefree life in a swanky apartment—with no responsibilities, no commitments—subsisting off the royalties of a hit song his late father wrote many years ago. He prides himself in this unattached, “island living.”
Sleazeball that he is, he joins a Single Parents Alone Together group for access to vulnerable single women, despite his not having kids. It’s through that group that he meets a nerdy twelve-year-old named Marcus (Nicholas Hoult), whose mom, Fiona (Toni Collette), has depression. Marcus strategizes to make Will a part of their life so that they have a bigger support network as his mom navigates her mental illness. (“Two people isn’t enough; you need a backup,” he reasons.) Will is resistant at first. He doesn’t want the complexity or inconvenience that come with relationships. But Marcus’s persistence wears him down, and as he warms up to Marcus’s friendship and later Fiona’s, he learns to care for people and things other than just himself. His autonomy breaks down the more he allows his behaviors and decisions to be influenced by those around him whom he’s grown fond of and invested in, and he eventually realizes that, as the poet John Donne famously wrote, “no man is an island.”
(Not currently streaming for free through any subscription services but can be rented digitally. If you’re a local friend, you can borrow my Blu-ray copy—or come over and watch it with me!)
2. Lars and the Real Girl (2007), dir. Craig Gillespie. Twenty-seven-year-old Lars Lindstrom (Ryan Gosling) lives in a small Wisconsin town in his brother Gus (Paul Schneider) and sister-in-law Karen’s (Emily Mortimer) garage. Conversation and physical contact make him anxious, so he generally keeps to himself. But then one day a sex doll named Bianca arrives at his house, and he develops a chaste relationship with her. He gives her a backstory—she’s a half-Brazilian, half-Danish missionary with nurse’s training who was orphaned as a baby—and starts introducing her around town as his girlfriend.
Bianca, at right, waits for her doctor’s appointment in Lars and the Real Girl. (“She loves kids,” Lars says.)
The beauty of this film is in how Lars’s family, his church (one of the rare positive portrayals of Christianity in contemporary cinema), his coworkers, and local retailers all compassionately care for Lars as he experiences this delusion, not judging or teasing—although there is some initial resistance—but instead welcoming Bianca into the community, as his psychiatrist advised. Bianca attends worship, gets her hair done at the salon, volunteers at the hospital, leads story time at the elementary school, even gets elected to the school board! Karen bathes and dresses her; a work colleague dances with her at a party; her new friends drive her to a girls’ night out. As the people in Lars’s life embrace Bianca, Lars becomes more open to human interaction, more sociable, until he no longer needs the delusion. Waiting in the wings is Margo (Kelli Garner), the “real girl” of the title, who works in Lars’s office and sings in the church choir—and who has a crush on him. The love and support of his community as he works through psychological issues is what enables him to eventually pursue healthy relationships with real-life people.
Streaming on Tubi (no account necessary).
3. Shoplifters (2018), dir. Kore-eda Hirokazu. My favorite film by one of my favorite writer-directors, Shoplifters is a preeminent onscreen example of “found family.” It follows a band of outsiders living together in a small house on the outskirts of Tokyo. Each of them has suffered some form of abuse or neglect, having been cast off by their biological families or spouses. None of them are blood-related, and yet they’ve formed bonds of love and loyalty. They support each other emotionally and financially: Hatsue (Kirin Kiki), aka “Grandma,” contributes funds allegedly from her deceased husband’s pension; Nobuyo (Sakura Andô) works for an industrial laundry service, while her husband, Osamu (Lily Franky), works as a day laborer; Aki (Mayu Matsuoka) works at a sex parlor; and the boy Shoto (Jyo Kairi) engages in petty theft.
Nobuyo, Aki, Lin, Shota, and Osamu take a day off from their workaday lives to spend time together at the beach in the found-family film Shoplifters—Kore-eda’s best, in my opinion.
The conflict is introduced when the family finds a little girl named Yuri/Juri (Miyu Sasaki), dirty and hungry, left alone on a front porch, and they decide to take her. They rename her Lin, and she becomes part of their family. But now they are guilty of kidnapping. The film explores themes of belonging and of being unwanted versus wanted—that is, chosen. It also asks, What is a mother or a father? What is a sibling? Kore-eda deftly folds together the delicate layers of the various relationships, most movingly (to me) Grandma and Aki’s, and Shoto’s with his new younger sister, Lin.
Sakura Andô is outstanding as Noboyu—the best performance of any of the films on this list, and of 2018. She delivers a zinger during the interrogation scene, and the nuances of her voice and body language throughout bear so much of the film’s complexity and meaning.
Streaming on Hulu.
4. A Man Called Ove (2015), dir. Hannes Holm. Based on the best-selling Swedish novel En man som heter Ove by Fredrik Backman, this movie centers on Ove (pronounced “oo-vah”) (Rolf Lassgård), a grumpy old widower and retiree obsessed with enforcing block association rules no one cares about and still mourning the death of his wife. When a lively young couple and their two kids move in next door, the commotion interrupts Ove’s suicide attempt. He is called on to help out with increasing frequency—lend his ladder, watch the girls, teach the wife, Parvaneh (Bahar Pars), to drive—which outwardly annoys him but, he subconsciously realizes, gives him purpose and opportunities for meaningful human connection. He gradually learns also to receive acts of care and outreach, like a chicken and rice dinner, and to interact with others in modes other than just criticism and judgment.
In A Man Called Ove, the titular character becomes disgruntled when a boisterous family moves in next door, but they ultimately draw him out of his suicidal ideation and help him let go of his bitterness over the hand he’s been dealt in life.
Through flashbacks, we learn about Ove’s childhood and his romance and married life with Sonja (Ida Engvoll) and begin to better understand the bitterness he holds. It’s beautiful to see that bitterness fade, even if it doesn’t entirely go away, as he begins to let his guard down and open himself to small joys.
The film was remade in English in 2022 as A Man Called Otto, set in Pittsburgh and starring Tom Hanks, but the original Swedish adaptation is the better of the two.
Streaming on Amazon.
5. The Station Agent (2003), dir. Tom McCarthy. When his only friend dies, Fin (Peter Dinklage), a train enthusiast, inherits an abandoned train depot in rural New Jersey, which he moves into, intent on living in solitude. But situated just outside his new digs is a chatty hot dog vendor, Joe (Bobby Cannavale)—in town indefinitely from Manhattan to care for his sick father—whose stand is frequented by Olivia (Patricia Clarkson), a discombobulated woman who, we later find out, is grieving the death of her son and the fraying of her marriage. Fin gradually surrenders to the uninvited companionship. He also befriends a local elementary school girl who plays alone and likes trains, and a librarian with an abusive boyfriend.
In The Station Agent, Fin’s deliberate life of solitude is interrupted by Olivia and Joe, who adopt his hobby of train watching not so much for their interest in trains as for their desire for companionship.
Fin had chosen a solitary life to protect himself from the taunts he receives because of his dwarfism. But he finds that vulnerability—putting yourself out there—is ultimately the better way to live, even though it means greater unpredictability and susceptibility to hurt. He forges a community from an unlikely bunch, people with whom he learns to enjoy comfortable silences and talk both small and large. The movie is punctuated by long walks along railroad rights-of-way and ends with a meal around a table.
NEW SONG + CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: Sing the Prayer from BibleProject: To cap off their five-part podcast series on the Lord’s Prayer this month, BibleProject commissioned singer-songwriters Brian Hall (of the family band TENTS) and Liz Vice to write and record a new setting of the Lord’s Prayer, using the translation by Tim Mackie and the BibleProject Scholar Team:
Our Father who is in the skies, may your name be recognized as holy. May your kingdom come and may your will be done as it is in the skies, so also on the land. Our daily provision of bread, give to us today. And forgive us our debts, just as we also have forgiven those indebted to us. And don’t lead us to be tested, but deliver us from the evil one. Amen. (Matt. 6:9–13; cf. Luke 11:2–4)
(You may be wondering, as I did, where’s the final line, “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever.” As Mackie explains, that line is not in the earliest manuscripts of Matthew or Luke; the addition first appeared in the Didache, an early Christian teaching manual.)
You can listen to and download Hall and Vice’s new setting of the Lord’s Prayer, which Vice sings to Hall’s guitar accompaniment, at the “Sing the Prayer” link above. In addition, the Good Shepherd Collective video-recorded a more fully instrumented arrangement for a digital worship service; see here. And here are links to the recent Lord’s Prayer episodes of the BibleProject podcast:
All you composers out there can get involved too! Through September 15, 2024, BibleProject is accepting submissions of musical settings of the Lord’s Prayer. You can sing the text verbatim using a translation of your choice, or you can rephrase it or write a song based on the prayer’s themes. Purely instrumental responses are also welcome. Send in a song file using their online form, and they will select some of their favorites to host on their website (for streaming, not download). View the early selections at https://bibleproject.com/singtheprayer/all.
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TV SHOW EXCERPT: Opening montage from season 3, episode 4 of The Chosen, “Clean, Part 1”: Several people have asked for my opinion of The Chosen, a television adaptation of the Gospels created by Dallas Jenkins. I think it’s great! Creatively (not woodenly, as is too often the case) written, culturally and historically immersive, high production values, and humanizing—it portrays the disciples (the Twelve and others, including the women) as complex, rounded characters with backstories, families, and distinct personalities. Jonathan Roumie is fantastic as Jesus; so is Liz Tabish as Mary Magdalene. If I were to identify a weakness in the series, it would be the portrayal of the Roman soldiers and rulers, especially Quintus, as cartoonish, one-dimensional—although that begins to shift with at least one Roman in season 3—and the occasional awkward dialogue that’s used to explain to the audience ancient Jewish practices and law codes with which we’re likely to be unfamiliar.
I’m in the middle of season 3 right now and was particularly struck by the opening montage of episode 4, a narrative embellishment of Luke 10:1, which says that Jesus “sent them [his appointed followers] on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go.” In the series, this is the first time the disciples perform healings. They’re surprised and confused by, and even a little fearful of, the power working through them; they don’t understand it and aren’t always sure how to wield it. This eight-minute segment shows them growing into their roles as they bring the gospel in word and deed throughout the region, preparing the way for Jesus.
This coming Sunday’s Gospel reading in the Revised Common Lectionary is Mark 5:21–43, which recounts the Healing of the Woman with an Issue of Blood and the Raising of Jairus’s Daughter. Here are two poems based on that passage. (As a side note related to the previous item: The Chosen, season 3, episodes 4–5 center on these two healing narratives; “Veronica’s” arc is especially cathartic!)
>>“Haemorrhoissa”by Leila Chatti: In her early twenties, the poet Leila Chatti [previously] had uterine tumors and suffered from severe bleeding and pain for two and a half years. She explores the shame, discomfort, isolation, and trauma of that condition as well as cultural taboos surrounding women’s bodies in her debut collection, Deluge (Copper Canyon Press, 2020), influenced by her dual Islamic-Christian heritage. In this poem she finds kinship with the unnamed hemorrhaging woman in the Synoptic Gospels and admires her boldness in touching Jesus’s hem. The title of the poem, a transliteration of “ἡ αἱμοῤῥοοῦσα,” is the Greek term used in the New Testament to refer to this woman, often translated as the “woman with an issue of blood” or “bleeding woman.”
>>“Jairus” by Michael Symmons Roberts: The poetry collection Corpus by Michael Symmons Roberts (Jonathan Cape, 2004) also centers on the body, especially on the relationship between corporeality, death, and resurrection. This poem from it, in which the speaker (a disciple of Jesus’s, perhaps?) addresses Jairus, celebrates physical appetite, an instinctive desire that helps keep us alive and that here also represents the hunger for living.
NEW DOCUMENTARY: God and Country, dir. Dan Partland: Released earlier this year, this documentary produced by Rob Reiner “looks at the implications of Christian Nationalism and how it distorts not only the constitutional republic, but Christianity itself. Featuring prominent Christian thought leaders, God & Country asks this question: What happens when a faith built on love, sacrifice, and forgiveness grows political tentacles, conflating power, money, and belief into hyper-nationalism?”
If you are an American Christian, you need to see this film. White Christian nationalism is becoming an increasingly larger threat in the US as it becomes more mainstream, and we need to be aware of it and denounce it. God and Country features interviews with several folks whom I’ve followed for years and deeply respect, including historians and best-selling authors Jemar Tisby and Kristin Kobes Du Mez, Holy Post podcaster and VeggieTales creator Phil Vischer, political commentator David French, and ethicist Russell Moore. Some of the footage from worship services is disturbing, to say nothing of the attack on the Capitol on January 6, 2021.
God and Country is currently available on Kanopy, an on-demand streaming service that many public and academic library patrons have free access to.
SPOTIFY PLAYLIST: June 2024 (Art & Theology): Here are thirty selections of good, true, and beautiful music for your listening this month, spanning genres but leaning heavily into folk and gospel. The first song is written by my friend and Daily Prayer Project colleague Joel Littlepage!
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TV SERIES: Fargo, season 5: The latest season of the dark comedy anthology series Fargo, written by Noah Hawley and streaming on Hulu, has been my favorite so far, in part because of its subversive (i.e., redemptive) ending. (I also recommend seasons 1 and 2!) Set in the American Midwest, the series is inspired by the 1996 Coen brothers’ film of the same name but has all-new characters and plots, and each season is self-contained (though those who watch all the seasons will find Easter eggs). Viewer beware: the show contains graphic violence, and season 5 centers on domestic violence.
Debt is a major theme in Fargo’s season 5. In the first episode, two men invade main character Dorothy “Dot” Lyon’s (Juno Temple) home, having been sent by someone in her past who is collecting a debt, revealing her to be a hardcore survivalist. (We gradually learn more of her backstory, especially through a fantastic puppet sequence in episode 7.) Dot is married to the kindest man, Wayne (David Rysdahl), whose billionaire mother, Lorraine (Jennifer Jason Leigh), is the CEO of a debt collection agency. Both women eventually come to heads with Roy Tillman (Jon Hamm), an extreme alt-right Christian nationalist running for the office of police chief. One of his lackies is Ole Munch (pronounced “oo-lah moonk”) (Sam Spruell), a mysterious man from Wales via Scandinavia who we learn is a “sin-eater” wandering the earth without hunger, rest, or hope, taking on himself the sins of the powerful and privileged.
Injuries are inflicted back and forth in a seemingly unending cycle of violence and retaliation. How can the cycle be broken? When should a debt be forgiven? In its final twenty minutes, which at first feels like a coda but actually moves the story someplace new, Hawley explores the power of love and empathy, of baking and breaking bread together. The last shot (which is not the one pictured here; I don’t want to spoil it) is perfect.
Juno Temple as Dot in the finale of Fargo’s season 5, “Bisquik”
>> “Amazing Grace,” performed by Tori Kelly and Jon Batiste:Tori Kelly and Jon Batiste are both multiple-Grammy-winning artists who are unabashed Christians working in secular spaces. Here they perform a classic Christian hymn together on late-night television—unrehearsed!—with Kelly on vocals and Batiste on piano. The video was recorded live at Steinway Hall in New York City in August 2019 for The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. Kelly’s voice is gorgeous, and Batiste—my oh my, his talent blows me away. Listening to Kelly sing, he improvises a piano arrangement that follows and responds to her lead, weaving into and around those tones, providing ornamentation and support.
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ARTICLE: “12 Easy Ways to Improve Your Listening” by Blake Glosson: “True listening isn’t just hearing words but selflessly seeking understanding,” writes MDiv student Blake Glosson in this recent Gospel Coalition article. It’s not a fixed trait that you either have or you don’t, but rather a habit that can be formed with practice. He offers twelve tips for improving your listening so that those you converse with are heard and loved. These may seem obvious, but I found it helpful to have them listed all in one place, as I never really thought about listening in a systematic way. The “Ask engaging questions” and “Ask clarifying questions” is something I always appreciate when others do it for me and that I need to improve myself.
SPOTIFY PLAYLIST: March 2024 (Art & Theology): My new monthly playlist of thirty songs is up a day early and, as usual, includes both recent releases and older favorites. Let me also point you to the longer, thematically distinct playlists I made for Lent, Holy Week, and Eastertide.
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CONCERT: Phantasia performs Biber’s Mystery Sonatas, St Hubert’s Church, Corfe Mullen, England,February 17, March 23, and April 13, 2024: The Mysteries of the Rosary are a set of fifteen meditations on episodes in the lives of Jesus and his mother, Mary. They are divided into three groups: the Joyful Mysteries (the Annunciation, the Visitation, the Nativity, the Presentation of the Infant Jesus in the Temple, the Twelve-Year-Old Jesus), the Sorrowful Mysteries (Christ on the Mount of Olives, the Scourging at the Pillar, the Crown of Thorns, Jesus Carries the Cross, and the Crucifixion), and the Glorious Mysteries (the Resurrection, the Ascension, Pentecost, the Assumption of the Virgin, and the Beatification of the Virgin).
Around 1676, the Bohemian Austrian composer Heinrich Ignaz Franz von Biber (1644–1704) wrote fifteen short sonatas for violin and continuo based on these mysteries. In a free three-part event sponsored by Deus Ex Musica, the newly formed period-instrument ensemble Phantasia will be performing Biber’s Mystery Sonatas at St Hubert’s Church, Corfe Mullen, on the south coast of England, accompanied by commentary by musician and educator Dr. Delvyn Case, who will provide thoughts about the ways each sonata reflects its “mystery,” linking specific elements of the musical structure to themes or ideas in the biblical scene. The performance of the first cycle of the work has already passed, but the remaining two are still upcoming: the Sorrowful Mysteries on March 23 (the Saturday just before the start of Holy Week), and the Glorious Mysteries on April 13.
Case tells me that Deus Ex Musica hopes to eventually provide video excerpts from the performances on their YouTube channel. In the meantime, here’s a little teaser, a snippet from the “Presentation in the Temple” movement, performed by Phantasia musicians Emma-Marie Kabanova on Baroque violin and Chris Hirst on German theorbo (long-necked lute).
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ARTICLES:
>> “Mercy at the Movies: Ten Films That Flip the Script” by Meaghan Ritchey, Mockingbird: “Spanning almost a century of cinema, this list of films maps a world—real and imagined—devoid of the mercy for which we all have need, as well as a world animated by unexpected and unearned mercies, flipping the script and leaving the plot forever changed.” What a great list! Number 7 is one of my all-time favorite films.
>> “As If Through a Child’s Inner Eye: The Contemporary Icons of Maxim Sheshukov” by Fr. Silouan Justiniano, Orthodox Arts Journal: In this article from 2016, Fr. Silouan Justiniano, a monk at the Monastery of Saint Dionysios the Areopagite on Long Island, explores the work of contemporary iconographer Maxim Sheshukov (Максим Шешуков) of Pskov, Russia, finding it “exemplary of the diversity and flexibility possible within our ever-renewing and living Tradition.”
Maxim Sheshukov, Zacchaeus, 2015. Egg tempera on gessoed wood.Maxim Sheshukov, Judas, 2020. Egg tempera on gessoed wood.
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NEW ALBUMS:
>> Volume 9 (Lent-Easter-Pentecost) of The Soil and The Seed Project: This is the latest release in an ongoing series of music for the church year by musicians of faith from the Shenandoah Valley. Some of my favorite tracks are “I Will Sing to the LORD” (a setting of Psalm 104:33) and “Hosanna, Loud Hosanna” (a newly retuned but old-timey-sounding hymn for Palm Sunday). I also really like “Gentle Shepherd,” a lullaby written for the children of Salford Mennonite Church to sing in worship in 2018 and performed in this music video by the sister folk duo Spectator Bird:
>> Life and Death and Life: Songs for Lent, Holy Week, and Easter by Steve Thorngate: Chicago-based church musician and songwriter Steve Thorngate has followed up his excellent album After the Longest Night: Songs for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany with an album for the next two seasons of the church year, including the Day of Pentecost! In addition to twelve original songs, it includes two African American spirituals, a Charles Tindley hymn, and, perhaps my favorite, a cover of (new-to-me) Brett Larson’s poetic country song “Rolling Away,” about barriers to sight and wholeness being removed and a fresh new clarity, a freedom, a path opening up:
>> JOY JOY JOY JOY JOY by Paul Zach: The ever prolific Paul Zach of Virginia’s latest release is an effusively joyous ten-track album celebrating God’s love, salvation, and sustenance. He collaborated with other musicians on the project, including Jon Guerra, Tristen Stuart-Davenport, and IAMSON. Here’s a snippet of the opening song, “Nothing,” based on Romans 8 (listen to the full track here):
Art & Theology 