Standard Operating Procedure

This American Life was about "Fall Guys" this week, and one of the stories was about Lynndie England, the woman who was in the most publicized of the photos that came out of the Abu Ghraib prison scandal. The interview of Lynndie England was taken from material gathered for the movie "Standard Operating Procedure", a documentary that came out last year.

I always tried to avoid thinking about Abu Ghraib too much. The photos repulsed and enraged me, and made me ashamed to be an American. After hearing the interview with Ms. England, I decided to watch the film, get a little more perspective and understanding. I suppose I got both, but I also ended up with a lot more questions.

The filmmakers interviewed most of the people who appear in the photos, as well as a civilian contractor who was in the prison at times and a few other people.

It's gut-wrenching to hear these people, some of whom it's easy to have sympathy for, describing what happened in each photo. They can all justify what happened, especially as they were "just following orders". They saw the detainees as criminals and terrorists at best, and sub-human at worst. They saw themselves as defending our freedoms as Americans, as watching the backs of their "battle buddies", as protecting their own lives in a war zone.

I wish I could just write them off as psychotic villians or hapless victims, but they're neither. If I put myself in their shoes, can I reasonably say I would have protested? I can say with confidence that I would not have participated, but to hear them explain "I was just taking the picture" or "they just told me to jump in the photo" or "I didn't really know what they were doing, so I didn't say anything"...can I really say that I would be stronger or braver than that?

When I see injustice around me on a less dramatic scale, am I strong and brave enough? Or, as Derek Webb sings, "I don't know the sufferings of people outside my front door, and I join the oppressors of those I choose to ignore. I'm trading comfort for human life, and that's not just murder, it's suicide, and this too shall be made right."

"These are not the droids you're looking for"

My roommate Dane says that all of creativity originates somewhere in the Bible. I'm certainly not going to be the one to tell him otherwise.

It's funny because on some level I've always thought of the gospel in terms of Star Wars. Like, "the force" is the holy spirit, that invisible current of power running through God's chosen people. Then there's the way Obi-Wan Kenobi died but warned Darth Vader that his death would only make him stronger. In my (admittedly warped) mind, this parallels Jesus dying and coming back stronger in resurrection.

Then there's the famous jedi mind trick Obi Wan uses in the first/fourth Star Wars (those stupid prequels make it difficult to reference the right movie. I'm talking about the very first Star Wars ever in a theater, from like 1977). Remember it? Guards all over the Tattoine Desert are told to be on the lookout for two droids. As they venture over to inspect R2 and 3PO, Obi Wan waves his hand in front of them and tells them "these are not the droids you're looking for."

I was thinking about this as I read 2 Kings 6, where Elisha plays the role of Obi Wan:
As the enemy came down toward him, Elisha prayed to the LORD, "Strike these people with blindness." So he struck them with blindness, as Elisha had asked.Elisha told them, "This is not the road and this is not the city. Follow me, and I will lead you to the man you are looking for." And he led them to Samaria.

Do you hear what I hear? Jedi mind tricks in the Old Testament? As Dane said, all creativity originates from Scripture. Makes sense to me.

What I learned from The Dark Knight (non-spoiler edition)

Like so many others before me, I thought of the Jersey shore during Batman: The Dark Knight. One of the movie’s major themes is that evil fights hardest after it’s been challenged. The moment you try to bury it, evil shifts into a new gear that’s more intense than ever. Noticing this, I thought of the Jersey shore –

See, I was at my parents’ beach house in Brigantine a couple weeks back. Rinsing the sand off my feet, I for the millionth time noticed the difference between the white sand (which comes off really easy) and the black sand (which has to be scrubbed off and sometimes doesn’t rinse off at all). Something hit more during this rinse off: the sand was like sin. The white sand is the sin you can clean up just by adding a little focus and prayer to your life. But the black sand…this is the sin that cuts deep. This is the stubborn sin, the kind to which you have to pay complete attention. You have to meditate on it, pray about it, work with your Christian brothers and sisters to hold you accountable. It’s not going to easily go away.

I think that’s what I saw in Batman. Without giving much away, I’ll tell you that the good guys thought evil would vanish away like white sand: it’s gone after a light brushing or a quick rinse. Turns out it they were dealing with black sand, that deep-seeded stuff that won’t go away without extreme effort. Oh, but when it does disappear…that’s the best thing ever. Evil can fight back harder than ever but what’s worth noting is that good is stronger than evil. You just have to be obedient and have faith in that. As it says in James 4:7, “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”

Let’s make that devil flee today!

MOVIE—Lord, Save Us From Your Followers

Our home community has talked recently about the role of risk-taking in Christian faith; appropriately, this documentary presents some major risks that American Christians often don't take. Loving those who offend us, for example. We like justice, we like things done right, and we like... winning. We risk losing those things by giving grace and love too liberally to (as in the film) skeptical Jews, queer "nuns," those bacchanalian Reedies, and so on. Inveterate fears of being rejected, betrayed, and hurt, also present themselves, as does the popularity factor—most folks don't love so radically. And this is precisely what the film suggests we do.

A corollary risk involves engaging opposing minds in open discussion, and actually listening to them. Sure, it's easy to clam up intellectually when you think you have the Truth. You're set! What else do you need to know? But the filmmakers noticed the clouds of hostility swarming around (and within) American religion; somehow the gospel isn't panning out like it should. The "Bumper-Sticker Man" gimmick was, I think, effective despite its theatrics: what if we actually conversed about important issues, rather than lobbing ideological barbs from an unsympathetic distance? I like it!

Third, Lord, Save Us From Your Followers encourages us to take a chance by identifying and examining our own faults. Obviously, this can be an uncomfortable process. It involves honesty, sensitivity, and humility. The movie is hopeful that doing this will enable us to better love threatening individuals, and to constructively interact with them.

I know this kind of message can easily fall into trite pleas (Why can't we be friends? All you need is love! Can't we all just get along?), but LSUFYF avoids this trap. It is asking us to consider how our beliefs translate to action, how the gospel affects our social and personal relations—and love is central to the gospel!

Other thoughts:

Jesus commanded, "love your enemies," not "make friends with everyone;" and I believe the film catches this distinction.

I wonder how the contestants for the game show were selected; I don't think it was rigged, but it almost seemed like they tried to find highly intelligent non-believers, but didn't exactly do so with the Christians (At least, that's the impression I got. Or maybe it's only me wanting to believe that Christians are not that dull). In any case, the game show drove home the point that perhaps we as the church could do a better job of relating to outsiders. Note that this does NOT necessarily mean steeping ourselves in secular culture—of course it's helpful to know where someone is coming from, but it disturbs me when Christians grow enamored with trying to experience "the real world." Too often it's just a convenient excuse to divorce faith from action.

Well, that's all I'll say about the film for now.

Go see it!! For free! Feb 5, Lewis & Clark College, 7:30pm. Coming to theaters "soon."