Mike Duran's Blog, page 8

Why is YA Fiction Suddenly So Popular in the Christian Market? Two Theories

I’ve been around Christian writing circles long enough (from 2004-5-ish to present) to remember when Christian YA fiction was not a thing. I still recall speaking to a literary agent (about the time The Hunger Games were all the rage), who flat-out said

“YA is a hard sell in the CBA.”

Why, I asked. They floated multiple possible reasons. But as a parent of teens, this agent specifically noted the gritty, real-world (even dark) nature of most mainstream YA and how Christian fare was too sanitized to connect with today’s average teen reader.

But apparently things have changed.

Back in August 2012, Publishers Weekly declared that Christian YA Fiction [is] Coming Into Full-Bloom.

Christian teen fiction is coming into its own these days as sales rise for both digital and traditional books, and as publishers look for the next bestselling series. While Christian publishers haven’t found juggernauts that compare to Harry Potter, the Hunger Games, the Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini, or the Twilight series, it’s not for lack of trying.

“YA fiction in general is a fast-growing genre,” says Don Pape, v-p of trade publishing for David C. Cook. “The YA reader can’t get enough story; they’re voracious readers whether in hard copy or digital download.”

Though many now see the Christian fiction market as “flat,” YA fiction still appears to maintain a decent share. The Christy Awards, the premiere Christian literary awards, provides a good sample size. The Christys added a YA category in 2007. Of this year’s nominees, at least five are marketed as YA. (Also, 2 of the 3 books in the Visionary — spec fic — category are YA, while 1 of the 3 in the YA category is spec-fic. I’ll develop the spec-fic connection in a minute.) This seems like a good sampling of the market. The Christian site Family Fiction lists almost 500 YA titles. This Goodreads page lists over 600 titles of “Clean Christian Fiction (Christian).” Also, Enclave Publishing, one of the premier Christian spec publishers, contains a significant amount of books marketed as YA in its catalog. (Anecdotally, after attending the 2017 Realm Makers Conference and seeing all the YA titles, I asked out loud, “Does anyone write adult speculative fiction anymore?” A conservative estimate would be that 1/3 of all titles represented at RM were YA.)

So how did the Christian fiction market go from YA being a “hard sell” to YA being so prolific? I have two theories.

Christian YA provides an alternative to overly-sexualized and existentially grim general market fare.

Indeed, much Christian YA sees itself as specifically aimed to counter the bleak, often overly-sexualized, stories found in much mainstream YA.

Blink, the new imprint from Christian publisher Zondervan, is clear to advertise itself as publishing “clean” YA fiction. In their About page, an entire section is devoted to defining What Does “Clean” Young Adult Mean?

Generally, the main characters in clean YA don’t swear, drink, or progress beyond kissing, and they only resort to violence when absolutely necessary. …this genre doesn’t take a gritty book and bleep out the swear words. These books are written with the intention of having clean language and content from the get-go.

One blogger described this alternative approach to young adult fiction:

…evangelical authors and publishers are offering their young Christian readers a surprisingly empowering guide to adolescence. Created as a “safe” alternative to mainstream fiction, books for Christian girls include wholesome heroines, lots of praying, and absolutely no cursing.

This reaction is understandable as much mainstream YA has indeed surrendered to nihilism, despair, and immorality. An article on dark themes in YA fiction in the Wall Street Journal (paywall) generated lively pushback. Nevertheless, the author rightly asked,

Contemporary fiction for teens is rife with explicit abuse, violence and depravity. Why is this considered a good idea?

It’s also worth noting that many Christian YA novels appeal to Christian homeschool groups… groups that are notoriously conservative. In fact, there may be a corollary between the continued popularity of homeschooling among Christians and the growth of Christian YA. It’s estimated that over 2.3 million children are being homeschooled in the U.S., most of them for religious reasons. Indeed, many Christian YA authors have found that homeschool groups are actively on the hunt for good, clean, alternative fare for their kids/students.

Of course, this intersects a topic of long-standing debate among Christian creatives — Do we write stories to engage the “secular” reader and the cultural zeitgeist, or do we provide “alternatives” for those seeking clean reads with Christian values? Wherever you land on that spectrum, the tension is still alive and well. And totally in the mix when discussing the state of Christian YA.

From the aforementioned PW article:

“Christian publishers walk a tightrope,” says Cook’s [Don] Pape. “We want to be real and deal with life issues, but also be redemptive and provide a light in the dark. We’ve had some parents return books because they’re dark, but when you look at what kids are into in the real world, you see the tension.” [Shannon] Marchese of WaterBrook Multnomah agrees: “There are [Christian market] constraints on how candid we can be with our teen readers. Parents want a good, clean read, but kids are saying that’s not what’s happening in their lives.”

“The biggest question we all face is how far we can go with YA,” says Pape. “We have to be true to our Christian values and mission, but we know what the kids are seeing in the media, in film, and in books.”

This balance between parents who “want a good, clean read” for their kids and kids who want books that address their “real world,” is indeed tenuous. And while seeking out “alternative fare” is understandable (especially books that offer hope rather than despair), reproducing another generation of  readers embracing a sacred/secular divide may prove problematic.

Either way, my first theory is that Christian YA has grown as a reaction to secular YA which is overly-sexualized and existentially bleak.

Christian YA appeals to teens and middle-schoolers who are more open to fantastical, futuristic, and speculative elements than adults.

As I noted above, much of the Christian YA catalog is comprised of speculative fiction — epic fantasy, superhero, and science fiction. (For example, this list on Goodreads of Best Young Adult Fiction Christian Books contains a significant percentage of speculative stories.)  In the graph above (cited HERE), the speculative genres — Paranormal, Fantasy, Dystopian, Steampunk, and Science Fiction — comprise over 50% of the YA deals of 2011-12.

This has both an upside and a downside.

Many have wondered aloud (including me!) why speculative fiction is so under-represented in Christian publishing… especially when the genre is wildly popular in mainstream culture. The fact that young Christian readers are consuming stories with speculative elements should be encouraging to long-time Christian fans of the genre.

Of note is how this trend is consistent with teens and middle-schoolers across the board. Young adult readers seem to gravitate to fantastical stories. Whether it’s the wizardry of a Harry Potter, the futuristic dystopian world of The Hunger Games, or the sparkly supernatural romance of the Twilight series, young adults pine for the other-worldly.

Much has been made about why this is. Some have speculated that our youth’s draw towards the fantastical is simply an issue of escapism. As the and its pressure grow increasingly grim, teens need an escape. Perhaps it’s a matter of the dehumanizing of technology. This generation lives in a world where science fiction is becoming reality. Speculative fiction is a way to plumb our humanity amidst an exponentially tech-centric world. This trend could also be an issue of the ripening of a postmodern, relativistic worldview, one in which the truth is squishy and the fantastical is permissible. Others suggest that this is evidence of a waning imagination in the adult populace, that teens have not yet surrendered to the stuffy materialism and grind of adulthood that has stripped their parents of their youthful wonder.

Of course, the downside of this, in Christian circles, is that adult Christian readers still do not gravitate to Christian speculative fiction in the way that middle school and young adults appear  to. Whether this has to do with the gender disparity or it has more theological roots — like skepticism about speculation, criticism of fictional magic, or suspicion of story in general — it could be concerning that the popularity of Christian speculative fiction has been fueled more by young adults and teens rather than adult readers.

So my second theory is: Christian YA is tapping into the hunger among young adults for fantastical stories with magical, futuristic elements.

Whatever the reasons, Christian YA, once a “hard sell,” is now a thing. So do you think my two theories have any validity? Do you think there’s some other reasons why a genre that was once not very popular in Christian circles, is now going fairly strong?

Cryptoterrestrials and the Nephilim

As part of my research for a future project, I’ve been reading The Cryptoterrestrials: A Meditation on Indigenous Humanoids and the Aliens Among Us by Mac Tonnies. It’s quite fascinating, but definitely “out there.” Tonnies is a recently deceased UFOlogist who veered from the more traditional interpretation of “space aliens” as extraterrestrial entities and conjectured a humanoid species indigenous to the Earth, a sister race that has adapted to humans’ numerical superiority through deception and technology. This has come to be known as the Interdimensional Hypothoses.

Wikipedia describes the theory thus:

The interdimensional hypothesis (IDH or IH), is an idea advanced by Ufologists such as Jacques Vallée that says unidentified flying objects (UFOs) and related events involve visitations from other “realities” or “dimensions” that coexist separately alongside our own. It is an alternative to the extraterrestrial hypothesis (ETH). IDH also holds that UFOs are a modern manifestation of a phenomenon that has occurred throughout recorded human history, which in prior ages were ascribed to mythological or supernatural creatures.

In this video, Tonnies goes into more detail suggesting that the cryptoterrestrials (CTs) may be a “genetically impoverished species” who actually need humans for the replenishing of their genetic stock. In doing this, he seeks to reconcile the many ancient folktales and legends surrounding “little people” — tricksters, gnomes, elves, and changelings — that allegedly co-inhabit the world around us.

While the IDH theory contains some fascinating elements, it’s also a black hole of conspiracy, myth, urban legend and occultism. For example, some see the UFO phenomenon and “alien encounters” in  what the Gnostics saw as first-hand encounters with inorganic beings called Archons:

Gnostic teaching explains that these entities arose in the early stage of formation of the solar system, before the Earth was formed. Archons inhabit the solar system, the extraterrestrial realm as such, but they can intrude on Earth. Interestingly, this Gnostic insight accords closely with the view of Jacques Vallee, who maintains that ET/cyborgs probably belong to the local planetary realm. Vallee also proposes that the ET/UFO enigma is a “spiritual control system,” a phenomenon that “behaves like a conditioning process.” (Messengers of Deception). This is exactly what Gnostics said about the Archons: they can affect our minds by subliminal conditioning techniques. Their main tactics are mental error (intellectual virus, or false ideology, especially religious doctrines) and simulation. Archons are predatory, unlike a wide range of non-human and other-dimensional beings also know to the Gnostics, beings who are benevolent or neutral toward humanity.

While the above piece is a tract for Gnosticism, it shows the extent to which some have extrapolated the IDH. Of interest in this discussion is how the author ties his theory to UFOlogist Jaques Vallee, an early advocate of IDH. This blending of Gnostic ideas with UFO research (particularly IDH) is emblematic of the florid off-chutes spawned by the research. 

Christian researchers have also lent some credence to the theory. In their book,Lights in the Sky & Little Green Men: A Rational Christian Look at UFOs and Extraterrestrials, Hugh Ross and Ken Samples note how some Christian researchers see “the origin and nature of such phenomenon belong[ing] not to extraterrestrial spacecraft but to another realm of reality beyond the space-time continuum.” They conclude:

The IDH is thus sometimes described as the paranormal or occult view of UFOs. Some ufologists (especially Christians) have ascribed an angelic or demonic interpretation to this interdimensional presence. Even a number of secular ufologists have argued for a correspondence between UFO and the occult or demonism.

In this way, CTH potentially intersects with a number of biblical scenarios. For one, it places sentient beings (both benevolent and malevolent) alongside the human race. Though largely unseen, these beings seek to influence and manipulate the affair of men. Although CTH advocates do not typically define these intelligences as demons, they do invoke a more multidimensional perspective to the phenomenon. Likewise Scripture, rather than gazing out to the stars for life other life, describes a universe already teeming with angels and demons. Not only are such entities not light years away, they do not require technology or spacecraft to “make contact.” Indeed, “close encounters” may occur in countless undetected ways.

But CTH also potentially veers into Nephilim territory. Though controversial and the subject of wild speculation, the Nephilim adds a fascinating spin to the idea of cryptoterrestrials.

Bible teacher Chuck Missler defines the Nephilim as,

…a strange union of fallen angels with women to produce a hybrid race called the “Nephilim,” or fallen ones. (italics in original)

Missler (and others) traces this “hybrid race” to the recurrent mention of “giants” in the Old Testament.

There were a number of tribes such as the Rephaim, the Emim, the Horim, and Zamsummim, that were giants.1 The kingdom of Og, the King of Bashan, was the “land of the giants.”2 Later, we also find Arba,3 Anak, and his seven sons (the “Anakim”) also as giants, along with the famed Goliath4 and his four brothers.5

When God had revealed to Abraham that the land of Canaan was to be given to him, Satan had over 400 years to plant his “mine field” of Nephilim!6

When Moses sent his twelve spies to reconnoiter the Land of Canaan, they came back with the report of giants in the land.7(The term used was Nephilim.) Their fear of those terrifying creatures resulted in their being relegated to wandering in the wilderness for 38 years.

When Joshua and the nation Israel later entered the land of Canaan, they were instructed to wipe out every man, woman and child of certain tribes.8 That strikes us as disturbingly severe. It would seem that in the Land of Canaan, there again was a “gene pool problem.”

Seeing the Nephilim as human-angel hybrid lends interesting credence to Mac Tonnies’ theory that CTs may be a “genetically impoverished species” who must replenish their genetic stock through various “abduction” events. Missler, on the other hand, might consider this simply part of a “gene pool problem.”

Of course, this speculation can take on fringe proportions. For example,  Paul McGuire in  BABYLON CODE, ANDROID SOLDIERS & THE MULTI-DIMENSIONAL NATURE OF ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE suggests that “interbreeding of an interdimensional species with human women” was the purpose of Noah’s Flood:

…the Flood of Noah was not just an account of God judging Man for wickedness and violence upon the Earth; the Flood of Noah was a targeted DNA judgment upon human, animal, and other species that was genetic/holographic, digital, and Transhumanist in nature. The Flood of Noah was designed to wipe out the corrupted DNA in both Man and animals who were subjected to interspecies breeding and genetic experimentation by the “B’nai Elohim,” which means the “Sons of God” or the “fallen angels.”

Whether or not the Flood of Noah and the Canaanite genocide was “genetic/holographic, digital, and Transhumanist in nature,” the IDH allows for some strange parallels between extraterrestrial theorists and a biblical worldview. While popular culture has been so seeded with images of ETs as “little green men” from distant galaxies, it may be more accurate to envision such entities as existing much, much closer.

The Inspirational “Wing Shot”

Herman Melville in his classic, Moby Dick, wrote about Captain Ahab’s impassioned, myopic search for the white whale. It is a great symbol of the cosmic conflict between good and evil, light and darkness. Melville notes that when a whale is sighted there is much frenzied activity: deckhands scurry about, boats are lowered, men begin rowing and sweating, one man stands and the back of the boat shouting orders. But there’s another who remains still, uninvolved, distant.

He is the harpooner.

His job is to be quiet and poised and ready to launch his weapon into the belly of the beast at the exact time. His window is very, very small. The primary reason the harpooner does not involve himself in the cyclone of activity, is that he may more effectively release his harpoon. He must be still so that he can hit the bullseye.

In many ways, the life of the artist requires the poise of the harpooner. Inspiration, like the white whale, may surface at any time. And the artist must be armed, still, and ready to strike.

In their classic book on grammar and composition, The Elements of Style, William Strunk and E.B. White used a similar metaphor for the writer’s “hunt” for inspiration:

Writing is, for the most part, laborious and slow. The mind travels faster than the pen; consequently, writing becomes a question of learning to make occasional wing shots, bringing down the bird of thought as it flashes by. A writer is a gunner, sometimes waiting in his blind for something to come in, sometimes roaming the countryside hoping to scare something up. Like other gunners, he must cultivate patience; he may have to work many covers to bring down one partridge.

Quail hunting is quite different from whale hunting. But the principle’s the same. There you have a guy with a vest, creeping through the brush, with a loaded gun in his hand. His steps are slow, methodical. He is not in a hurry or he may scare his prey. The hunter is ferreting out birds cowering in the reeds, fully prepared to drop ’em.

These images summon certain truisms about art and artists — inspiration can strike (surface or skate) at any moment, so the artist must be poised and ready to “capture” it.

Whether you write or draw or build or paint, every day, you must load your weapon and trudge into the sticks, poised and ready. Every day, you must wedge yourself into the crow’s nest, eyes peeled on the horizon, looking for that white fin splitting the turquoise blue. Not only must we rouse ideas from the brush, once they surface, once they skate to the skies, we must summon our faculties to “bring down one” on the spot, pierce inspiration with our trusty harpoon and imprison it in our work.

Strunk and White describe this as a “wing shot.”

It speaks to the nature of inspiration. Like lightning, inspiration strikes randomly. We may erect lightning rods, but there’s still no guarantee of a direct strike. So we must be ready. We must be on the lookout every day… every moment. Sometimes at the most unexpected of moments.

Inspiration is on its own timeline. It doesn’t wait for you to get your coffee and get to the studio. It doesn’t park by the water cooler and stick around for your break.

Which demands being ready for “occasional wing shots.”

This might entail jumping out of bed in the middle of night to record a dream. It might mean jotting something down on a napkin or dictating something into your phone on your way to class. It might mean pausing the movie to sketch out another creature concept.

Perhaps the most imaginative artists aren’t those with a propensity for visions, but those who are adept at wing shots. They are always on the prowl.

 

 

 

Christians Who Don’t Like “Christian” Films & Fiction — An Emerging Demographic?

Back in April, 2011, I posted an article entitled The New Demographic: Christians Who Don’t Like Christian Fiction. It received a good amount of feedback, and currently has over 130 comments. I described this “new demographic” this way:

There seems to be a lot more readers who like stories with “faith” elements than CBA (Christian Booksellers Association) publishers are currently reaching.

Many Christian readers just don’t seem to like most Christian fiction — at least, what is currently being published as “Christian fiction.” I talk to them all the time. This doesn’t mean they don’t like faith-driven stories and desire a Christian worldview therein, they just don’t like the type of faith that drives most Christian fiction stories. Or the types of stories marketed as “faith-driven.” Or the quality of writing, the limitation of subject matter, the genre tilt, the… whatever. Either way, the CBA seems to target a small demographic of Christian readers.

A recent article in Jezebel magazine reminded me of that post. It’s entitled A Journey Into the Righteous, Risk-Averse World of Faith-Based Films. Though the writer seems a tad adverse to evangelicals (and makes sure to signal her dislike of President Trump), her dissection of the genre seems relatively spot-on.

Historically, to make a faith-based—more specifically, a Christian—movie that will sell, you first need the right kind of story, one that’s probably true but not too bleak. It can’t feature characters who do drugs or participate in illegal activity, or who curse too much; otherwise it’ll push your rating above PG. The story should be dramatic, but not too dramatic, and, above all, inspiring. Your audience doesn’t want to go to the movies to feel crappy—the world is crappy enough! Instead, your main character should face some sort of obstacle, maybe an abusive father, or an addiction to pornography, or have their arm bitten off by a shark.

While the article’s focus is on the Christian film industry, there’s very much an overlap between the CBA audience and the Christian film-going audience. As such, the description of the type of product desired by Christian audiences — whether film or fiction — is basically the same.

Alissa Wilkinson, film critic at Vox.com, former critic at Christianity Today, and associate professor of English and humanities at The King’s College in New York, agreed that what distinguishes a “Christian film” from a movie with Christianity in it is largely about who it gets marketed to. Evangelicals and conservative Catholics, she said, are mostly looking for entertainment that is “squeaky clean—no sexual content, no profanity, no drugs or nudity or alcohol or anything like that.”

Some elements have become fairly standardized within the genre, in addition to that squeaky cleanliness, ostensibly because that’s what Christian audiences and leaders have expressed that they want to see. “The second piece is usually that it has to be inspirational or uplifting in some way,” Peluso continued. (bold, mine)

Those two elements — squeaky cleanness and inspirational fare — have remained relatively standard for the genres.

Which represents a problem for people like me.

Even though I consider myself an evangelical and am invested in “Christian art,” I can’t seem to locate myself  in the target market for Christian films and fiction. I’m that Christian who has no interest in seeing “God’s Not Dead” I, II or whatever. Fireproof did not inspire me. And Samson struck me as feeble. Yes, I have seen a few “Christian films” I liked and thought were fairly well-done. However, I generally have no interest in films or fiction that are aimed at evangelical audiences.

Question: Does that put me in the minority or the majority?

Since I wrote the aforementioned post back in 2011, I’ve managed to publish nine books. The first two were published by a Christian publisher and labeled as “Christian fiction.” I soon migrated away from that genre, but have managed to remain connected to my Christian reader base and many Christian authors and publishers. During that time, nothing has happened to change my perspective of that “new demographic.”

There is a sizable market of Christians who don’t like “Christian art.”

Again, this does NOT mean they dislike “Christian” themes in their movies and books. They do! Nor does it mean they prefer watching films with sex and cussing. They don’t! It simply means that they don’t require “squeaky clean,” “inspirational” art.

That’s all.

While the evangelical market described in the Jezebel piece is alive and well, the article hints at subtle change. Even though “some Christian audiences aren’t willing to step outside their comfort zone,” which results in “a narrow range of topics that a faith-based film can tackle—and from very few angles,” Christian artists and authors continue to create and demand less “predictable” fare.

“This, I think, is what’s fundamentally wrong with most faith-based entertainment,” Christian critic Steven Greydanus of DecentFilms.com, wrote to Jezebel in an email. “By and large, it’s made by people who for the most part are only interested in saying things they already know, for people who basically want to hear what they already believe.”

“They’re basically telling the same story over and over again,” said Sister Rose Pacatte, founding Director of the Pauline Center for Media Studies in Los Angeles and film journalist for the National Catholic Reporter, over the phone. “These are films that are aimed at people who are already comfortably religious, that’s what I think. I don’t think they challenge people necessarily to do more for their neighbor. I wanna see people changing things and guiding me in my living room, and with the comfort of my bag of popcorn, and telling me that I need to be involved in the world around me, to change it. Otherwise, what kind of Christian am I? I’m a comfortable Christian. I don’t like films that just make me feel more comfortable.”

But if there is a sizable market of Christians who don’t like “Christian art”  and don’t need to be made to feel “more comfortable,” then my follow-up question is: Who is marketing to them?

Why Christian Artists Should Be Good at Depicting Evil

There are many arguments for why Christian artists should avoid depictions of evil. The very concept of “clean,” “family-friendly” fare is based on the assumption that LESS renderings of evil (be it profanity, violence, gore, occultism, nudity, etc.) are qualitatively better or more “Christian” than stories or images that contain evil.

One of the more common arguments for Christians avoiding darker cinematic and literary fare is the argument of influence.

Watching/reading/hearing bad stuff can negatively influence us; proximity to evil can corrupt us.

This seems like an inarguable point. The apostle Paul, paraphrasing the Book of Proverbs, wrote “Do not be misled: ‘Bad company corrupts good character.'” (I Cor. 15:33) Simply put, evil rubs off on us. So it’s not a stretch to suggest that playing violent video games, reading about witchcraft or occultism, or watching films with language or sexual content can also  potentially “corrupt good character.” Salacious images, ideas, and words can seed our minds for the worse.

Another powerful argument, closely associated with the aforementioned, has to do with transformation — what we allow our mind to dwell upon shapes our actions and disposition. The writer of Proverbs put it this way: “as [a person] thinks within himself, so he is”  (Prov. 23:7 NASB). Basically, we are what we choose to focus on. The renewal of our minds (Rom. 12:2) is central to personal change and transformation. Which is why Scripture exhorts us to focus our minds on what is good and beautiful:

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.” (Phil. 4:8 NIV)

This is one of the most common, and most persuasive, proof texts used by advocates of clean fiction.

But are these definitive reasons to avoid works that contain depictions of evil? Is the command to focus our minds on what is good simultaneously a command to eschew stories that contain profanity, violence, gore, occultism, and/or nudity? Since bad company corrupts good character, does this imply that all potentially bad influences (which includes R-rated content) should be disavowed? Do these commands convincingly advocate for an entire genre of art that is “safe”? Does the command to focus on the Light demand Christian artists avoid, or seriously limit, depictions of Darkness?

On the contrary, there are good reasons why Christian artists should be adept and convincing in their portrayals of evil.

First, let me suggest that avoidance of depictions of evil in art can distort a biblical understanding of holiness and perpetuate something akin to “white magic.” In my article ‘Clean Fiction’ as Evangelical White Magic I elaborate on what I term “clean media spells.” They are,

…practices that stem from the belief that G-rated, “family-friendly” content — films and fiction without sex, profanity, excessive violence, occult themes, etc. — is inherently “pure” (or, at least, purer than other fare), imparts a protective covering, cultivates holiness, does not morally corrupt, brings one closer to God (or, rather, keeps the devil and evil spirits away), and is ultimately “safer” than art with mature content.

Such an approach to art appeals to a “touch not, taste not” (Col. 2:21-23) aesthetic. In this sense, holiness is an external exercise marked by the addition or elimination of various agreed upon elements. We become holy to the degree that we abstain from certain language, film, dress, diet, habits, companionship, etc., and incorporate certain conduct, practices, grooming, consumption, etc. Holiness, in this sense, is an entirely a measurable quantity. Thus, the “holy” man doesn’t smoke, drink, watch R-rated movies, and maintains a regular devotion. Holiness becomes a checklist. Which makes “clean fiction” advocates not unlike the sorceress who believes that the inclusion or avoidance of certain words is crucial to the efficacy of a given spell.

 The belief that keeping THAT word out of my story makes it intrinsically less worldly and more holy, is akin to white magic. It’s not much different from the sorceress who believes that uttering THIS word invokes THAT power and refraining from speaking THAT word leads to THIS blessing. Like the sons of Sceva, itinerant Jewish exorcists, who believed that the name “Jesus” was a magic wand to wave over the bedeviled (Acts 19:11-20), we “sanctify” our stories by adding or subtracting words to up the holiness quotient.

Of course, Jesus challenged such misguided notions of holiness by living in uncomfortably close proximity with the unclean. After all, one isn’t charged with being “a glutton and a drunkard” by (Lk. 7:34) by being “family-friendly.” If  “Bad company corrupts good character” then Jesus indeed pushed that envelop by making friends with bad company. Nevertheless, He apparently managed to maintain “good character” despite His associations with bad characters.

In a similar way, it is quite possible to interact with and depict Darkness without succumbing to it.

Secondly, I think a case could be made for Christians not only not running from evil, but looking it squarely in the eye. The famed Japanese director Akira Kurosawa simply said, “The role of the artist is to not look away.” Christian artists and readers, perhaps more than any other group, should not “look away.” Our eyes should be wide open. I don’t mean that we should delight in evil, be captivated by the macabre, or celebrate darkness, but that our perspective of the human condition should be unflinching and particularly acute.

According to the apostle Paul in Phil. 4:8, the first object of our attention is “whatever is true.” Sometimes the “truth” of a situation involves the truly evil. The suicide of a pedophile. The physical and mental ravages of drug addiction. The horrors of war. The abortion industry and the victims, born and unborn, it leaves in its wake. Sex trafficking. The lists of “evils” we should be aware of, study, gaze upon, even expose are many.

Being able to listen unflinchingly to the horrors and atrocities of fallen Man, articulate their evils, and empathize with sin’s victims, is a deeply “Christian” thing to do.

Sure, feel-good, inspirational story-telling may have its place. But artists, writers, and readers — especially Christian artists, writers, and readers — who only subscribe to a “feel-good” world have violated an essential artistic, dare I say, biblical law … they have “looked away” and shrunk from “whatever is true.”

Finally, the Bible is perhaps the greatest argument in favor of witnessing, depicting, and probing into the Dark.

Scripture does not shy away from delineating evil. Its pages contain scenes of gore, torment, destruction, demons, plagues, catastrophe, divine judgment and eternal anguish. The reader who wants to think only on what is “pure and good” may want to avoid such biblical stand-bys as the Fall of Man (Gen. 3), Noah’s Flood (Gen. 7), the Slaughter of the Firstborn (Ex. 11), the Destruction of Sodom (Gen. 19), the Great White Throne Judgment (Rev. 20), the Crucifixion of Christ (which involves one of the most brutal forms of execution ever devised), and numerous lurid tales which range from Lot offering his two virgin daughters to be raped by an angry mob (Gen. 19:7-8) to God commanding the prophet Isaiah to preach naked “for three years” (Is. 20:1-6). (See Is the Bible Really Family-Friendly? for more.) While Scripture’s message is one of redemption, that redemption unfolds amidst a dark world that is cannibalizing itself, pummeled by evil beings and barreling toward chaos and destruction. And we Christians are called to “not look away.”

Some will counter that the reality of evil is not justification to focus on it. Reading or writing about evil is akin to focusing on darkness, rather than Light. No doubt, some read and/or watch darker fare to fuel prurient interests or feed depravity. (I can’t see any other reason why people would watch The Faces of Death except that they are disturbed individuals.) However, there are people who read other genres for the wrong reasons too. Some read romance novels to arouse sexual desire or replace its void. Some read fantasy novels to escape the mess they’ve made of their lives. Some read Amish lit because they simply can’t cope with the 21st century. In fact, I think an argument can be made for how a preoccupation with “clean” fiction or films can actually harm us. So while some may, indeed, focus on dark art as a means of lewd fascination, this is not unique to those fans. Readers / writers of ANY genre can turn to novels / movies as an unhealthy form of escapism or titillation.

I would also add, there’s a difference between what we look at / observe / encounter / ponder and what we choose to embrace. Just reading or watching something horrific does not make us horrible any more than watching a car accident, robbery, flirtatious affair, or elder abuse makes us compliant. Sure, fighting monsters might make us monsters, but this is not a good excuse to ignore the beasts. The Bible is not telling us to turn away from what is unlovely and impure, but to not dwell on them, to not allow the darkness to usurp our hope and resolve. So it’s not an issue of ignoring monsters, but learning to look in their eyes and battle them. Thus, Christians are commanded to NOT turn away from evil and misery. Refusing to look upon or acknowledge evil may in fact BE evil.

Perhaps more than any other individual, Christians should be adept at portraying evil. We do not see holiness as an external checklist that requires us to close our eyes and ears to what is evil or sinful. In fact, we prove ourselves by looking squarely into the heart of darkness. Of course, this does not mean we focus exclusively on evil nor surrender our hope and joy to the culture of wickedness. However, like Christ, we befriend bad characters and interact with Darkness with the intention of shining light.

Requiem 4 Now Available on Audiobook!

My horror / military sci-fi novelette, Requiem 4, is now available in Audible audiobook. Narrated by industry veteran Dan Kassis, he captures the ominous vibe and diversity of characters with chilling precision. A fantastic iteration of  this cautionary dystopian tale. You can download your copy of R4  in audiobook HERE.

“Disciplish: My Unconventional Pilgrimage thru Faith, Art, Evangelical Culture” is Now Available

This is NOT a deconversion story!

I suppose I need to be clear about that right up front. Why? Because deconversion stories are currently trending. What is a deconversion story? Good question. Typically, conversion stories (aka testimonials) were designed to reach the unbeliever or spiritual seeker and encourage them towards faith. Deconversion stories, on the other hand, are NOT designed to reach “the lost” but “the saved.” Their purpose is to convince other believers that their beliefs are outdated, that organized religion is deeply flawed, and that most Christian are mean-spirited, narrow-minded yokels.

But this is NOT a deconversion story.

Yes Disciplish: My Unconventional Pilgrimage thru Faith, Art, Evangelical Culture, gets into the muck of religious experience. As Southern novelist Flannery O’Connor put it in The Habit of Being:

“…the only thing that makes the Church endurable is that it is somehow the body of Christ and that on this we are fed. It seems to be a fact that you have to suffer as much from the Church as for it…”

As an ex-pastor, I have “suffered” both for the church and from the church. Like the deconversionist, I can tell stories (and do!) of extremists, false prophets, and religious whackery. My story, however, is not a provocation to bail on God and His Bride. Quite the contrary, I seek to use my spiritual journey, its triumphs and tragedies, to impart hope and endurance, which they have produced in me.

I genuinely believe that this is a message that is needed now, more than ever.

You can purchase a copy of “Disciplish” for either Kindle or paperback.

 

 

My Spiritual Memoir is Now Available for Pre-Order

I’m thrilled to announce that my spiritual memoir discipl·ish: My Unconventional Pilgrimage thru Faith, Art, & Evangelical Culture is now available for pre-order for Kindle. In it, I trace my early spiritual quests, conversion to Christianity, plunge into the ministry, and the ultimate disbanding of the church. Along the way, you’ll meet an array of colorful, often tragic figures who help me wrestle with questions of theology, art, and the oddities of Evangelical culture. You can pre-order your own copy HERE.

Does the Universe Care About Stephen Hawking?

Famed scientist Stephen Hawking died earlier this week at the age of 76. He is largely regarded as one of the most important physicists in history. Of course, the tributes came pouring in. While most commemorated his genius and determination to transcend the debilitating effects of ALS, others attempted more nuanced commentary. Like USA Today which took Hawking’s death as opportunity to remind us of the physicist’s view that “Heaven is a fairy story.” 

Hawking, who died at 76, spoke candidly in a 2011 Guardian interview about what he believes happens when people die. He told the Guardian that while he “wasn’t afraid of death,” he was in no hurry to die.

“I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail,” he said. “There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.”

It should come as no surprise that Hawking was not religious. In Hawking’s 2010 book, The Grand Design, Hawking said a creator is “not necessary” in the narrative of how the world was created.

While such an approach — eulogizing Hawking by highlighting his disbelief in an afterlife — has sticky philosophical ramifications, others chose to have a little fun with it. Like God (on Twitter).

Not sure if God knows that Hawking believed that heaven was “a fairy story.” Then again, when God tweets that “The Bible is the fakest news of all” it’s probably safe to assume that someone hacked his account.

There were others, however, who mourned Hawking’s profession of atheism and the (according to critics) squandering of his talents on a philosophy that ultimately rendered his accomplishments moot.

For example, Franklin Graham, President of Samaritan’s Purse and the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, took to Facebook with his sympathies:

“I wish I could have asked Mr. Hawking who he thought designed the human brain. The designers at HP, Apple, Dell, or Lenovo have developed amazing computers, but none come even close to the amazing capabilities of the human mind. Who do you think designed the human brain? The Master Designer — God Himself. I wish Stephen Hawking could have seen the simple truth that God is the Creator of the universe he loved to study and everything in it.”

Another active “opponent” of Hawking’s Naturalistic worldview was Ken Ham, who was more blunt  about his perspective  at Hawking’s passing:

“A reminder death comes to all. Doesn’t matter how famous or not in this world, all will die & face the God who created us & stepped into history in the person of Jesus Christ, to die & be raised to offer a free gift of salvation to all who receive it.”

Christopher Benek, pastor and clergy expert on artificial intelligence and global emerging tech and theology, attempted to balance condolence with theological reality by  tweeting:

Stephen Hawking will definitely be missed. He was one of the great minds in human history. But Hawking wasn’t right about everything. His perpetuation of Escapism Theology in culture was based in fear – not in Love, Redemption and Renewal.

As you can imagine, such criticisms of Hawking were on the receiving end of much scorn. A good example was Relevant Magazine’s calling out of evangelist Ray Comfort.

Comfort wrote, “When renowned theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking died yesterday, I posted a link to a secular news article on my Facebook page. It was big news and, of course, very sad. On the top of the news item I put another link, to one of our free films that have been seen by millions. It just said: EvolutionvsGod.com. Nothing else was stated.”

He then explains, “To my surprise, my page was flooded with angry atheists, who were abusing me with comments that would make a cat’s tail curl. It was as though I had blasphemed their holy prophet.” 

Even though he says he was “surprised” by angry comments from atheists, the rest of his post shows why so many might be angry at him: Hawking had only been dead for hours, and his death was being used as a tool to promote a film. And instead of thoughtfully engaging any kind of argument, he got reductive and, frankly, said things that were simply in poor taste. The man had literally just died.

The author/editor of this piece, like many of those who were angered by mentions of Hawking’s atheism, seems far less concerned with extrapolating the implications of the deceased physicist’s worldview than taking to task critics with a poor sense of timing.

Comfort expounds upon the obvious, and this is what has many fans of Stephen Hawking up in arms:

“It’s an irony that atheists are upset about anyone’s death. According to their beliefs, Stephen Hawking was just an animal. He had no more worth than a dog. They believe (as he did) that overpopulation is a problem, and his death made room for other animals. His life had no purpose, rhyme or reason. He was just a tiny insignificant speck in the universe. Atheism at best is heartless and cruel.”

Is it inappropriate to point out this irony? Frankly, so many tributes of Stephen Hawking undermine or openly contradict the worldview he espoused.

For instance, NASA commemorated Hawking with the words: “May you keep flying like superman in microgravity.” Another offered these condolences: “For he now looks from above.” However, as a Materialist, there would be no “above” that “superman” could look down from after his death. That would, indeed, be the “fairy tale” Hawking rejected. Even the term RIP has no logical meaning to the atheist. (Hawking’s death spawned a #RIPStephenHawking hashtag.) However, Hawking can’t “rest in peace” because he doesn’t exist in order to rest.

Then there was this image floating around the web:

Again, while Hawking is, indeed, free of his wheelchair, in what sense is he “free”? Does he know he’s free? If so, that means he is self-aware. Yet as a Materialist, Hawking would likely believe that his molecular structure would simply disassemble and his essence return to the star stuff. If his being reconstituted in some other form or dimension, then that would imply he was wrong about there being “no heaven or afterlife.” If so, what else was he wrong about?

Sure, timing is important. But so is pointing out the dangerous, nonsensical logic of Naturalism.

If Hawking was right, he simply powered off like an old computer. His components failed and he was gone. Though his memory may temporarily “live on,” it will ultimately come to nought as the cold, vast Universe swallows all that is. Stephen Hawking’s own worldview diminishes the import of his life, discoveries, and worth. Materialism ultimately renders his memory and discoveries moot.

Truth is, Hawking spent most of his life turning people away from God and the Bible. It’s appropriate that we recognize his genius and determination. But let’s also acknowledge the incredible inconsistency of the worldview he espoused. Only a supernatural view of life, a non-materialistic view of life, can bestow the appropriate honor and dignity upon Stephen Hawking, or any human for that matter! Without it, he is just a bag of chemicals on an infinitesimal speck in an impersonal Universe that is moving towards extinction.

Hawking once said, “The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge.” Sadly, that applies to our “knowledge” of the afterlife as well.

The Theological Roots Behind the Ongoing Popularity of Zombies

Engraving of “The Vision of The Valley of The Dry Bones” by Gustave Doré

NPR recently explored the ongoing popularity of zombies in pop culture. In Why The Zombie Craze Still Has Our Undying Affection they list current iterations of the zombie phenomena and then proceed to conjecture why our infatuation with the undead doesn’t die.

Their answers, imo, are pretty lame.

First, “pre-eminent zombie scholar” Sarah Juliet Lauro, a professor at the University of Tampa, suggests that we can make sense of the zombie craze “by thinking of it through the economic meltdown: how zombies reflect[] our insecurities, helplessness and fragile safety net.” According to Lauro, this was compounded by the election of Barack Obama. So series like The Walking Dead mirrored a “redneck” reaction to the first black president, and the apocalypse that would surely follow.

Author Justina Ireland offers an equally uncompelling theory. 

“Every day is a new and terrible terror coming at you from the news, and it’s just nonstop… I think people are feeling overwhelmed. And that’s a great metaphor for a zombie invasion. Like, that is the iconic scene for a zombie invasion, a horde coming to overwhelm a town or a mall or a handful of survivors.”

While the popularity of the horror genre is often traced to coping with real-life horror, our fascination with zombies can be traced to factors other than just pure catharsis.

In fact, some see our zombie fascination as having “religious roots.”

For example, in his book  Living with the Living Dead : The Wisdom of the Zombie Apocalypse, writer and Baylor University professor Greg Garrett suggests that our fascination with zombie apocalypses actually speaks to a hopeful future and our intuitive yearning for the coming of the kingdom of God.

It is in our nature to destroy ourselves. Humanity may seem to be on the ropes. The living dead may outnumber the living. But in many of our stories of the zombie apocalypse, we discover something hopeful: humankind rising from the ashes of our culture and creating something new and beautiful. The zombie apocalypse can also be a transition to a great future for humankind as well as a catalyst for individual humans. In this vision, life after the apocalypse is not so much about restoring things to the way they were, many of those ways flawed by consumerism, selfishness, prejudice, classism, and other human and institutional vanities, but about renewing the planet, about the kingdom of God coming.

More typically, biblical theology can be glimpsed in the anthropological musings afforded by the zombie archetype.

In his article on CNN Belief Blog entitled The ‘zombie theology’ behind the Walking Dead, John Blake writes

Some people find faith in churches. David Murphy finds it in zombies.

Murphy, the author of “Zombies for Zombies: Advice and Etiquette for the Living Dead,” says Americans’ appetite for zombies isn’t fed just by sources such as the AMC hit series “The Walking Dead” or the countless zombie books and video games people buy.

Our zombie fascination has a religious root. Zombies are humans who have “lost track of their souls,” Murphy says.

“Our higher spirit prevents us from doing stupid and violent things like, say, eating a neighbor,” Murphy says. “When we are devoid of such spiritual ‘guidance,’ we become little more than walking bags of flesh, acting out like soccer moms on a bender.”

This is perhaps the most consistent theological observation made about the genre. Zombies reinforce how “the body without the spirit is dead” (James 2:26) and speak to something immaterial but essential to man’s chemistry — an “essence” which transcends our brains and organs. Without this essence we are just brains and organs. Thus, the zombie represents the soulless human.

Interestingly, this paradigm also offers the reverse interpretation.

The Bible describes the human constitution in holistic terms. We are not just souls. We are triune beings consisting of spirit, soul, and body (I Thess. 5:23). While our immaterial selves may constitute our essence and be the distinguishing feature of “human” (as opposed to simply animal) life, the body is not inconsequential in Christian theology. Man did not become a “living soul” until God breathed His image into a physical frame (Gen. 2:7).

God’s breath / image + human body = living soul

Furthermore, we are not intended to dwell eternally “unclothed” (II Cor. 5:4), as the apostle Paul put it, referring to a bodiless existence. But according to Scripture, a future bodily resurrection of all the dead will mark the end of this age. And souls will be “rejoined” with a physical body. Thus, being a human does not just mean possessing a soul or spirit, but having that soul / spirit fused into a body.

Likewise, zombie lore does not just speak to the value of an immaterial soul, but to the value of a physical body. What makes a person a zombie is not simply that the soul has left the body, but that there is no body in which to regain its soulishness.

Not only is a soul needed to make a human, but a body is needed to make a soul.

As with all ruminations upon culture, speculating about theological themes rooted in pop cultural commodities can be a slippery venture. Indeed, our fascination with the undead may involve many factors. However, one such factor is our intuitive view of humanity reinforced by zombie culture. Not only does zombie lore reinforce the essence of the soul and how utterly zombie-like we are without it, but the importance of the physical body.

A soulless body is only half a human, as is a bodiless soul.

The horror of zombie-ism is not just that the undead no longer possess souls, but that those souls no longer possess a body. In fact, their previous bodies have been… hijacked. The soul cannot be at peace until its body is freed from the co-opting influence. Thus the zombie archetype actually reinforces a very biblical view of humanity, one that affirms both its physical and metaphysical  elements. In this way, the ongoing popularity of zombies may be a reflection of our intuitive sense of what it means be human and to be fully alive.