19 minute read
Film Reviews
An Uplifting Portrait of John R. Lewis
HIS TRUTH IS MARCHING ON
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BY JON MEACHAM
Random House
The Benedictine David Steindl-Rast writes, “How difficult it is to live in the creative tension of hope, the tension between not-yet and already!” If anyone were to be the embodiment of that creative tension, then it would certainly be John Robert Lewis, one of the United States’ great social justice leaders of the 20th and early 21st centuries. The life of Lewis, a full-fledged proponent of nonviolent, direct action and often called the “moral conscience of Congress,” is warmly and engagingly told in this new biography by Pulitzer Prize winner Jon Meacham.
In Meacham’s wonderful prose we follow the story of “the Boy from Troy” (Alabama) from his early life growing up a sharecropper’s son and preaching to the chickens in his yard, through his journey as a young man who directly confronted the evils of American racism. Lewis understood the promise that Jefferson made to all Americans but recognized that America still had a long way to go to see those ideals fulfilled.
Lewis and others like Martin Luther King Jr. knew that hope is rooted in God and is not necessarily about optimism. As Lewis would say in paying the price for bearing the physical scars of that struggle, “Our bodies became living witnesses for the cause of human dignity and freedom.” Lewis’ life clearly reflects that of Christ being crucified in the cause for civil rights and then resurrected as an elder to the halls of government. Along the way, he never changed; he was stalwart, defiant, and always forgiving until the end of his life.
Lewis understood the physical and existential components of the tension of hope. In Meacham’s pen we have a well-told biography of someone who changed America for the better because he hoped for a better future, a future we now enjoy because of Lewis and other nonviolent practitioners.
The story of Lewis, so steeped in religious faith, can inspire us to continue to work for the social and economic changes still needed in the United States to live up to our national creed and aspirations.
Reviewed by James A. Percoco, a nationally recognized history educator with over 35 years of teaching experience.
CHRIST IN THE STORM
BY POPE FRANCIS
Ave Maria Press
On March 27, 2020, Pope Francis gave an extraordinary blessing, Urbi et Orbi (“To the City and the World”), at the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic, acknowledging the darkness of the time and the necessity for hope. Beautiful images and the moving homily by Pope Francis bring readers into the unity and comfort of that evening.
Uniting in prayer at mealtime is a common practice for many, but Robert Hamma aims to enrich this ritual with both traditional and newer prayers. He structures prayers around the Church calendar and includes special occasions such as birthdays, graduations, and even blessing Mondays. You’ll want to keep this book on your kitchen table.
BLESS US, O LORD
BY ROBERT M. HAMMA
Ave Maria Press
Sister Rose Pacatte, FSP
Sister Rose is a Daughter of St. Paul and the founding director of the Pauline Center for Media Studies. She has been the award-winning film columnist for St. Anthony Messenger since 2003 and is the author of several books on Scripture and film, as well as media literacy education.
Sister Rose’s FAVORITE FILMS FROM 2020
The King of Staten Island Mulan
The Way Back The Trial of the Chicago 7
WANT MORE? Visit our website: StAnthonyMessenger.org
EVELYN
This fragile gem of a documentary seems to have been hiding on Netflix since it was made available in 2019. Directed by Oscar winner Orlando von Einsiedel, this film is a pilgrimage made in honor of his brother, Evelyn, who took his life in 2004. Now on the 13th anniversary of his death, Orlando, his sister, Gwennie, and brother Robin retrace some of the beautiful hiking trails in England, Wales, and the Hebrides that their brother loved. The monthlong journey includes their divorced mother, Beta, for part of the walk; their German-born father, Andreas, and his second wife join later.
Diagnosed with schizophrenia in his late teens, Evelyn went on to medical school, but one day it all became too much. After a day spent looking, the family discovered his body in the garden. He left a note that they read along the way—something that is almost impossible to get through. From family videos, we see that Evelyn was a beautiful boy and a high-spirited adolescent who loved to skateboard.
As a camera captures the family’s conversations, we learn that this is the first time they have talked about Evelyn’s death and how it impacted them. Though they must be conscious of the camera’s presence, they are honest with each other without being sentimental. When Andreas throws a fit at a restaurant because of bad service, Gwennie takes him to task, knowing there are issues driving his behavior. What emerges is that this flawed family loved Evelyn and they love one another, despite their grief.
Along the way, the pilgrims meet others whose lives have been changed by suicide. One young man tells how his mother died by suicide because she believed no one cared about her. A former soldier tells of losing three of his former comrades to suicide after returning from the Middle East. As viewers, these moments seem somewhat staged, but the authenticity of these stories of love, loss, and grief is palpable. At one point, the three siblings jump into a pool along the shores of an island in the Hebrides, something Evelyn liked to do. It’s as if they are reborn.
At the time the film was made, suicide was the leading cause of death for British males under the age of 45. The film advocates for better mental health services and offers a help line for anyone in crisis. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available in English and Spanish: 1-800-273-TALK (8255).
I was deeply moved by the simplicity of this gentle film and the courage it took to make it. It drew out my compassion for those who consider suicide as their only option, as well as the loved ones left behind.
Not yet rated • Family bickering, grief, talk of suicide.
YES DAY
Allison (Jennifer Garner) is fearless! From childhood she says yes to every adventure, especially when, as a young woman, she meets Carlos Torres (Edgar Ramírez). Their love for fun and adventure draws them together and they marry.
Some 15 years later, however, Allison has become a “no” kind of mother. She has three children, 14-year-old Katie (Jenna Ortega), and the younger kids, Nando (Julian Lerner) and Ellie (Everly Carganilla). She is constantly telling them no, from keeping them safe as toddlers to not giving Katie permission to go to her first concert without a parent.
Carlos spends most of his time at work, so Allison is the one always saying no. Allison learns about a parenting trend, where families have a “yes day.” Mom and Dad have to say yes to everything the kids want to do for 24 hours—with some ground rules. The kids give their parents a rule too: They are not allowed to use their cell phones, though it is Katie’s cell phone that leads to the one part of the film that truly moved me.
Garner gives such a high-energy performance in the opening scenes of the film that it made me think it could be her last action role. In many ways this is a typical family film with a simple premise. Everyone in a family has something to learn and something to sacrifice for the good of all. The role of the cell phone in the family’s life could be a catalyst for honest conversations at the dinner table. The singer H.E.R. makes an appearance and becomes part of the adventure. Yes Day is available on Netflix.
Not yet rated, PG • Slight peril.
Catholic News Service Media Review Office gives these ratings.
A-1 General patronage
A-2
Adults and adolescents
A-3
Adults
L Limited adult audience
O
Morally offensive
RESURRECTION
Continuing the story of Jesus that began with their 2014 feature film Son of God, producers Mark Burnett and Roma Downey have gone into the film archives at MGM and LightWorks studios to create a feature film about the resurrection of Jesus. The COVID19 pandemic limited further original filming.
To set the stage, the film begins with the events of Good Friday, including the encounter between Jesus (Juan Pablo Di Pace) and Pilate, the crucifixion, and his burial in a borrowed tomb. Pilate places a guard at the tomb to make sure Jesus does not rise—as he had foretold. Then, on Easter morning, Mary Magdalen (Chipo Chung) discovers the empty tomb and meets the risen Lord in the garden. Peter (Adam Levy) plays a key role in the story, but we don’t see as much as we might expect of Mary, mother of Jesus (Greta Scacchi).
Resurrection follows the Gospels fairly closely, and the film is a good watch for the family seeking inspiration during Holy Week and the Easter Triduum. The film is streaming on Discovery+.
Susan Hines-Brigger
Susan has worked at St. Anthony Messenger for 26 years and is an executive editor. She and her husband, Mark, are the proud parents of four kids—Maddie, Alex, Riley, and Kacey. Aside from her family, her loves are Disney, traveling, and sports.
Susan welcomes your comments and suggestions!
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Hitting the Pandemic Wall
Last March, when the world shut down as the COVID-19 pandemic began to ramp up, the reality of being forced to stay at home didn’t disturb me. My more extroverted children and friends were not coping well. I, however, just pulled on my “Social Distancing Expert” T-shirt and hunkered down. They longed for connection with people. Me? I had all the people I needed locked down here in our house with me. I was doing just fine.
I tried to understand and sympathize with people as they struggled. I tried to help them find ways to adjust and to open their eyes to the many benefits of introversion. I used the time to cook and bake all the recipes I had saved to Pinterest. I read the stack of books that had sat collecting dust, and I even played—not very well—video games with my kids. I reveled in the fact that I no longer had a commute to work and was able to just hop out of bed and head to my computer.
Yes, it was great . . . until it wasn’t.
PEOPLE NEED PEOPLE
As the quarantine began to drag on, though, I got tired of cooking, reading, and playing games. I started to miss the everyday interactions with people that I had obviously taken for granted. I missed seeing my dad in person instead of on a Zoom call from the nursing home, and I wanted to spend time with my in-laws. I missed going out to lunch with my friends. I wanted to walk next door to my coworker’s office to ask a question rather than set up a virtual meeting. I got tired of watching Mass on the computer. But most of all, I longed for human contact. Basically, I just wanted a hug.
In short, I hit what they are now calling “the pandemic wall.” The phrase was popularized by New York Public Radio host Tanzina Vega after she posted on Twitter: “Lots of people—including me—are hitting what I’m calling the pandemic wall this week. The burnout from working nonstop, no break from news, childcare, and isolation is hard. It’s OK not to be OK right now. I think we need to accept that.”
I began to realize that, even though I prefer to spend time alone, we are all wired for human connections and community. Suddenly, I got why this was so difficult for those who need that connection on a more regular basis than I do. It is also why I was diligent about following the instructions laid out by the Centers for Disease Control and insisted that my kids do the same. I knew that doing so would bring us back into communion with those we hold dear. The sooner the better, I thought.
MOVING TOWARD EASTER
As I was traveling the season of Lent, I was struck by the similarities of what was happening in my faith life and what was going on in the world around me. During Lent, we travel the 40 days of sacrifice, not unlike what we have done for the past year by following safety protocols. We endure the darkness of Holy Week, but then look toward the hope of the Resurrection.
On a broader scale, we are traveling the same type of journey with this pandemic— we’ve just been doing it for much longer than 40 days. We have walked in the darkness of illness, separation, and the shadow of the pandemic wall. We have suffered watching loved ones die. And now we are beginning to see the light in the promise of vaccines.
In the meantime, we lean on each other— not literally because of social distancing— knowing that there is hope on the way.
As COVID-19 made its presence known in February 2020, avowed introverts across the globe took to Twitter. @CrowsFault tweeted this on February 28:
“CDC: To prevent coronavirus stay home, avoid physical contact, and don’t go into large crowds.
Introverts: I’ve been preparing for this moment my entire life.”
I’m lucky that I’ve been spared the wrath of the pandemic, largely because I’ve played by the rules: limited exposure to people, masks in public, washing my hands to the point of discomfort. But there’s a side effect to these measures that I’ve struggled with for over a year: isolation.
When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, and we at Franciscan Media were strongly (though gently) encouraged to work from home as much as possible, suddenly the prospect of being separated from my work family became real.
We at St. Anthony Messenger and Franciscan Media are a kind of family—a loving, lovingly dysfunctional unit. Being separated from that family since March 2020 has been a challenge for me. Zoom calls are an essential component to our workday, but I prefer in-person meetings. Slack and other forms of instant messaging are helpful, but I’d rather have a visitor in my office.
Simply put: I miss my community. I’m wired for a group dynamic.
SEPARATE BUT TOGETHER
Case in point: Years ago, I participated in a Myers-Briggs exercise. I was tasked with answering a dizzying number of questions and meeting with a counselor to discuss my results, which revealed I was ENFP. In layman’s terms, I’m an extrovert who leads with his heart. No great mystery to me. It has certainly weighed on my heart that, since COVID-19, my office is now my living room. I do not hear my coworkers anymore; I read their e-mails and instant messages. Lunches aren’t vibrant outings but quiet meals alone in my home. I’m grateful that this organization’s first priority is the health and wellness of its employees. It’s kept me well—though a bit heartsick. Pope Francis understands. In his encyclical “Fratelli Tutti,” he writes: “A worldwide tragedy like the COVID-19 pandemic momentarily revived the sense that we are a global community, all in the same boat, where one person’s problems are the problems of all. Once more we realized that no one is saved alone; we can only be saved together. Amid this storm, the façade of those stereotypes with which we camouflaged our egos, always worrying about appearances, has fallen away, revealing once more the ineluctable and blessed awareness that we are part of one another, that we are brothers and sisters of one another.”
Words that I need to keep front and center: Though separated, we are still connected.
—Christopher Heffron
PETE&REPEAT
These scenes may seem alike to you, But there are changes in the two. So look and see if you can name Eight ways in which they’re not the same. (Answers below)
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Stephen Copeland
Stephen Copeland is a storyteller and an Indiana native who now lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. He recently published his first memoir, Where the Colors Blend, about his journey from doubt and despair to a place of faith and hope. He’s been published widely in this magazine and at FranciscanMedia.org. You can follow his work at CopelandWrites.com.
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Resurrection Song
Istood quietly in the back of the sanctuary one Easter Sunday, surrounded by raised hands and lifted voices—but feeling alone. Though I had a reverence for the congregation’s energy that filled the sanctuary, I also found myself wondering about the origin of this rising passion.
The preacher’s fiery sermon was focused on how Christ’s resurrection validated the truth of his own beliefs. The Resurrection, for him, was the stamp of approval that Christians had it figured out. I couldn’t help but wonder if the emotion bursting forth around me was related more to the thrill of certainty than it was about the transforming power of the Resurrection.
Was I off base? Maybe. Was I cynical? Probably. At that time, I was beginning to confront the spiritual doubts I had carried, sometimes overwhelmed by bitterness and confusion. But I was also beginning to place a finger on something that has plagued Christianity: our tendency to commodify faith; for our Western values to pull the train of spiritual experience rather than the other way around. In a culture that elevates certainty, it was no surprise that one of the most transforming Christian theological cornerstones was used to boost one’s own rightness and righteousness. And that goes for our role in God’s creation.
I was reminded of this quote from Thomas Merton: “There are some men for whom a tree has no reality until they think of cutting it down, for whom an animal has no value until it enters the slaughterhouse, men who never look at anything until they decide to abuse it and who never even notice what they do not want to destroy.”
In the United States, we commodify just about everything in our drive for efficiency and profit. Unfortunately, that sometimes includes our theology and spirituality; something that, at its worst, can produce a type of Christian nationalism that warps the message of the humble, loving, self-sacrificing Christ on the cross.
CREATION AS KIN
This Earth Day, I find myself thinking again of the confusion I experienced on that Easter Sunday years ago. I wonder whether we, as Christians, are letting our Western values hijack our faith instead of inviting us deeper into introspection and prayer. When it comes to the care of our planet, it seems we adopt
more of a dominion approach, which places humans at the center of creation. Not surprisingly, this often leads to dominating and commodifying.
As Pope Francis suggests in “Laudato Si’,” we need to shift toward a stewardship approach, where humans are entrusted with God’s creation. We are encouraged to adopt a kinship approach, epitomized by St. Francis, where every facet of creation is brother, sister, or mother, where we awaken to an interconnectedness with all of creation. The COVID-19 pandemic and ongoing political, social, and racial divisions reveal our difficulty in trusting this interconnectedness.
We find ourselves in a Holy Saturday moment, in that space between Crucifixion and Resurrection, and the model we adopt moving forward might affect whether we discover an empty tomb. I have long associated the Resurrection with heaven, but this kind of spiritual bypassing can lead to suppressing the realities of Holy Saturday. Contemplative prayer invites us to cocreate a heaven here, in our very midst, but that entails honestly evaluating the cultural values we have idolized with an Americanized theology.
St. Bonaventure wrote that creation is our “first book.” While my mind spins at the dawn of a new day, I’m finding that taking time on my morning walk to experience creation—to slow my rushing thoughts and open my senses to the city sounds, breakfast smells, scattering critters, and passing strangers—somehow brings me back to interconnectedness, to seeing creation as kin. Some days, the thoughts keep bursting over the meditative dam, but other days I am, in a sense, liberated from myself, which is to say that the grip of my cultural idols is loosened. I gain perspective as a member of creation. I am freed from the pressures of dominion.
To truly “care for our common home,” the subtitle of “Laudato Si’,” we are encouraged to return to the source, existing in that empty, open space beneath our own projections and ambitions. As Pope Francis wrote, “The Spirit of God has filled the universe with possibilities, and, therefore, from the very heart of things, something new can always emerge.”
Maybe the Resurrection signifies the willingness to give something new a chance.
A NEW VISION FOR CREATION
Lord, help us to partner with you in the renewal of this earth. May we be emptied so that authentic hope might arise. Help open our eyes to see how our own idols and cultural values might be blurring our spiritual vision. As we read your book of creation, help us see anew.
Amen.
PRAYERFUL TIPS FINDING YOUR WAY 1Go on a daily walk and commit that time to mindful meditation. As you walk, listen to the surrounding sounds and allow them to awaken your senses. When your mind begins to wander beyond the present moment, give grace to yourself and then return to the sounds.
2Journal about dominion, stewardship, and kinship. If you need more guidance about these creation models, consider watching the first episode of Dan Horan, OFM’s series about “Laudato Si’” on YouTube. How do you tend to commodify creation rather than befriend it? Where do you think this disposition originates?
Everything in life has its own time. There is time to celebrate, and there is time to mourn. This is the time for reflection and transformation. Let us look within and change into what we ought to be.
