Religion, Spirituality, Higher Power.... It's All a Mystery to Me, Not too Mention a Matter of Faith

My last couple of posts have skirted the issue of religion, usually with me saying something along the lines of "I'm not all that religious." Frankly, I tend to stay away from the discussion because there are far too many viewpoints, interpretations, and people who think they have all the answers to the afterlife. My personal belief is that there simply isn't enough information to form a suitable hypothesis one way or another, and people get far too heated when discussing something so personal. And so, I try to stay far away from discussions of religion unless the discussion is of an academic nature, when feelings are less likely to be hurt.

Notice my use of the word "try" because I'm going to delve, somewhat foolishly I'm sure, into the realm of religion, or if you prefer spirituality, or faith, or the afterlife (see, too many ways to address the issue).

Anyway, I am no religious scholar, nor do I pretend to be; however, I do try to rely on my reason, intuition, and experience as much as possible before making any kind of decision. I believe I've always waited before making decisions: The more serious the decision, the longer the wait. Of course, this waiting tends to push the limits on things like deadlines and life in general. A patient child I was, which has translated into being a patient adult, as well. I guess it's a good thing I was called to the profession of teaching. Since waiting is one of my more powerful characteristics, I feel I will be waiting until the end of my life to make a decision on my faith.

My parents always told my sister and me that we had a choice which religion to follow. Now, they may have hoped for a Christian denomination of some kind, and probably hoped against a more pagan form of spirituality like Wicca, a religion I did flirt with for a time and still have a few books on the subject. However, it is this freedom of choice that has plagued me for my whole life. This is not to say I feel my parents did me a disservice. On the contrary, I believe their decision to give my sister and me a choice at all has led me to seriously, and I mean seriously, consider the role religion would take in my life. From the moment a choice was presented, I was free to question what many take on faith and faith alone. I was free to question how comfortable, or uncomfortable, I felt in the hallowed halls of various churches. My favorites tended to be Catholic because Catholics tend to take the presentation of religious rites and practices VERY seriously, which also is a reason why many are turned away from Catholicism. I found the grandeur and pomp to be a form of elevation, like Milton's use of language in Paradise Lost: the subject deserves a higher form of presentation.

Of course, to each his own. The form of presentation makes a difference to us all and not all of us react the same. Some love the language of Paradise Lost and other epic poetry, while others do not. The Catholic form of delivery was suitable to my own tastes. But this is not to say I now find myself a true Catholic; after all, because I never decided on one particular faith, I never went through the necessary rituals of being a true Catholic. No, there was a slight hiccup in the development of my faith, what I'll lovingly call my gay realization. Here was a dilemma set in front of me: How do I reconcile being gay with belonging to a religion?

To start, I need to explain a bit. I apologize on the outset about the brief bit of history I'm about to divulge, but for the sake of this particular blog I feel it's necessary.

There are plenty of people out there who believe being gay is a choice, and I'm the first to say that yes, it can be a choice, but that's not to say it is always a choice. Human psychology is far too varied and complex to limit personal identifications to black/white standards. For me, it's not a choice. Sorry ladies, I just don't find woman sexually appealing. Even when I was little and acting out the role of obsessed male adolescent, I had a couple of pictures of beautiful women (I had a thing for Sandra Bullock.... still do as a matter of fact), but none that I can recall were in provocative poses. Indeed, my own feelings about them were a bit strange, I began to notice.

I believe it all started with a simple movie, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. In an earlier post, I expressed that I had a crush on the older boy in the film. I wanted to be the girl in the film not because I desired to be a woman but because I desired to be in her shoes. I wanted him. The same probably... No, it did happen with Ms. Sandra Bullock. She had starred in Speed (just a quick FYI, Speed was the first R rated film my parents let me own) and I believe my fascination with her was due to her close proximity to a hunky looking Keanu Reeves, who wouldn't look so scrumptious again until The Matrix.

My apologies, I digress. These feelings weren't driven by any kind of sexual abuse, or fear of women. No, they were just there. I couldn't control them then, and I can't control them now. My dilemma then, and to some extent now, is that if I accepted the idea that I was born attracted to men and if I accepted the idea that most religious doctrine doesn't look too kindly on same-sex coupling, what was I to do? This was a terrifying mental state for a teenager just starting junior high school. How is an adolescent, with very little life experience and knowledge of religion and philosophy, supposed to deal with those kinds of issues? To be perfectly honest, it's no wonder there is such a high rate of suicide among GLBT youth. Now, I'm not blaming religion, but the pressures exerted on our youth today is immense, especially when the pressure is coming from the institutions that are supposed to help teens deal with such issues.

Well, those were my thoughts. Just as I was supposed to be discovering the joys of love, I was terrified I was going to hell. But something didn't feel right about all of it. God is supposed to be all powerful. God tests us with temptation. God is vengeful. God is merciful. All of this didn't seem to add up to my adolescent mind. To use the language of adolescents, God is a sick fucker.

At least, that's how I felt.

How could all of these ideas be merged together into one being. Well, the answer lies in the first item in my list above: God is omnipotent. God encompasses everything in us and outside us, which means God's infinite complexity includes the psychological complexities of humanity. As some decide to murder, so does God. As some decide to give, so does God.

I was told once by a friend, a pair of friends actually, that my sexuality was a sign from God to take a vow of abstinence and join the priesthood. I politely declined, while simultaneously thinking "Hell, no!" Abstinence is a nice idea but a failure in practice, and I knew I would fail miserably, even if the study of religious texts seemed a promising career choice, which it did; I'm a nerd after all.

All these ideas proved too much for my mind, so I decided to just forget about it all. I decided I was an Atheist.

I was a junior in high school.

Thankfully, my boyfriend at the time informed me that that wasn't such a good idea. An outright rejection of God, in whatever form, was not a reasonable way to approach the problem, and he introduced me to a new word: Agnostic.

Agnostics, of course, are by nature "fence sitters", which I'm sure is frustrating for all those who so blissfully exist on either side of the divide. Even so, an agnostic I remain to this day. Even though my knowledge has expanded a bit since my junior year, I can't quite get off the fence. Granted, I lean more toward the believers than the non-believers, however I just can't subscribe to any particular doctrine. All are too limiting to my conception of God. Even the name "God" and its variations seems too limiting for the power in the universe that is simultaneously destroyer and creator, the beginning and the end. God is too vast for our simple minds to comprehend, even if we were immortal. The knowledge we seek will not become a part of our consciousness until that consciousness is no longer attached to the limitations of the human body, miracle in engineering though it is.

Some will argue that the power that is God makes itself know to us through religious texts. But which should I choose? I mean really, even within one religion there are texts that are considered gospel and others that are not. What's the difference? And who has the authority to make such a decision to either include or dis-clude any particular text? I know I'm not qualified. However, I do have a problem with the strict adherence of any religious text for the simple fact that they are mere translations. Anyone who has had experience with translation can tell that it's not an exact art. And I'm including the originals in this context, too. After all, they were but the writings of men who had particularly potent dreams. Have you ever tried to write down a dream after waking? I enjoy writing and it's like trying to hold onto a watermelon dripping with oil. Elements change with the writing, so who can say if the man (for most older religious texts were written by men) got it right?

There's far too much instability in religious texts for my liking, and so I'll remian blissfully on-the-fence until my soul makes a break for nothingness or the next realm. Either way, I'll continue to grow and expand my knowledge of our world; and I'll continue to act in a way that harms no one. In the end, whether you believe or not, our actions on this earth have consequences.

A Definition of Pretty and a Decision to Wait: The Beauty of Language

I'm always on the lookout for including videos in my classes and squeal with joy whenever one crosses my path. Well, maybe not squeal, but I am usually guilty of some serious fist-pumping.

Some days ago, a couple of friends on Facebook posted two videos of some poetry slammers, and I was struck by the power of these women's performances and lyrical prowess. Granted, poetry is not my favorite form of literature; and although I've often heard of poetry slams, I hadn't experienced such a performance until a few days ago. So, to those two friends I say "Thank you!" because I now want to watch more. This is a form of poetry I can get into.

Below are the two videos I saw. Hopefully, the links I embed won't be taken down.

The first video is this poet's definition and refutation of "pretty." Fair warning, she utters one curse word, so the video may not be appropriate for work or around children. That being said, the word is completely appropriate for the context. At least, that's how I feel, and I have no qualms about showing this to students.

Now, I'm not particularly religious, at least not in a church-going or Bible-reading sense, but this next video uses biblical imagery in such a way that is both vivid and moving, all to support her decision to wait for the right man to enter her life. I would go to church if messages were delivered in this way. Although I'd be going for the the beauty of the language usage rather than a sense of spiritual fulfillment. Anyway, enjoy!

Freaking awesome, isn't it?!

Well, these are two videos I hope to use in my classes next semester, somehow. However I decide to use them, they will make their way into my writing classes, even if only to show students the power and beauty of language.

The Luminescence of Michelle Williams

My Week with Marilyn is a good film, not a great one, but a good one. Actually, nothing much seems to happen in terms of plot. A movie is being made, and the plot follows the progress of the film within the film. However, that being said, I believe the acting within this particular film is quite phenomenal, especially Michelle Williams who has probably the hardest job of any other actor in the film. Of course, due to the film's subject--Marilyn Monroe--everyone's focus should be on Michelle Williams' performance because Monroe's ability to draw everyone's attention, no matter whatever else was going on, is legendary. Despite the fact that the film's hero is Colin Clark (played by Eddie Redmayne), everyone is waiting for the moment when Monroe graces the audience with her presence, and from the opening song, to her final moment onscreen, Williams evokes the legendary aura of Monroe in such a way that I forgot I was watching Williams act. I, a gay man, wanted to be Clark; I wanted to pick up that vulnerable image of innocence in my skinny little arms and take her away from her troubles. It was a strange experience, to say the least, but from what I hear, that's exactly the kinds of feelings Marilyn Monroe elicited.

Sir Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh), that legend of acting, is directing The Prince and the Showgirl. The stage version starred Olivier's wife, Vivien Leigh (Julia Ormond), but she was deemed too old to play the same character on screen, a sad fact that is made even harder to bare when the most famously beautiful actress in the world is cast to replace her, Monroe. Colin Clark wants so desperately to be in the film business that he works his way into being hired as the Third Assistant Director, which basically means he's the director's (as well as everyone else's) errand boy. Yet, despite his status on set, Monroe grows to trust this young man and they form a relationship.

The film doesn't reveal whether or not the two ever had sex, but that's beside the point. Monroe doesn't need another sexual partner: What she really needs is a friend to support her, one without some ulterior motive. At that point in her career, Monroe was suffering what few people on this planet can truly claim: worldwide adoration and fame. Such recognition comes at a price, and that price is privacy and paranoia. Elvis and Michael Jackson would be able to empathize. Indeed, there is so much pressure on Monroe that I'm surprised it didn't take even longer to complete The Prince and the Showgirl.

The other two performances that stand out are Kenneth Branagh, who stands out in any production he's in, and Dame Judi Dench, who is a joy to watch even when she graces us with her presence for the briefest of spells. Branagh playing Olivier delivering Shakespearean dialogue is like being in Shakespeare-Heaven, I imagine. But aside from that, Branagh brings off the frustration and sexual tension Olivier experienced while working with Monroe quite well. Bouts of explosive anger are coupled with quiet moments of reflection, and Branagh makes Olivier a sympathetic character despite his bullying of Monroe.

There were two memorable scenes for Dench, who plays an old actress who acts as mother to everyone on set. During one scene, Dench is required to deliver a long, rambling bit of dialogue and shows no hint of frustration or anger when Monroe can't seem to get one line out of her mouth. Indeed, she goes out of her way to comfort Monroe and in a later scene berates Olivier for being a bully. These scenes are a reminder why Dench received an Oscar in Shakespeare in Love (despite being onscreen for a short amount of time); and why, aside from Daniel Craig, I eagerly await the next Bond film.

As I wrote before, this is a Michelle Williams' film, much like every film with Monroe in it is a Marilyn Monroe film. My Week with Marilyn doesn't quite deserve a Best Picture nomination, but Williams certainly deserves a Best Actress nomination.

Favorites: The Holiday Edition

With the holidays approaching, I though it might prove interesting to write about my favorite holiday movies; and by "holiday" I mean Christmas movies. I have a couple of favorite horror films I like to watch during Halloween, but that holiday passed by without me even thinking about adding them here. Maybe next year. Thanksgiving isn't a holiday I generally associate with any particular film because I can't think of any Thanksgiving-themed film I enjoy all that much, at least enough to write about.

Since I missed Halloween, I thought I should write a post about the next big holiday coming up: Christmas. Of course, if you don't celebrate Christmas but instead another December holiday, then please just insert your holiday of choice whenever I write Christmas; as someone who was raised Christian--though as an agnostic I don't think I fall under that category anymore--Christmas is just the name that has stuck around. But this blog entry is not about religion (though I may write one someday entirely devoted that subject), and none of the films listed here are religious in theme or plot, at least not the in the way I relate to them.

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation

First up is a comedy. I decided to start with this film because the others will have a more serious interpretation attached to them, and my enjoyment of this particular gem is not academic: I just simply love watching this film around the holidays. It makes me laugh.

Christmas Vacation follows the adventures of the Griswold family as they deal all the fun and terror of hosting Christmas at their home. Chevy Chase and Beverly D'Angelo star as the patriarch and matriarch of the Griswold family and it is D'Angelo's character, Ellen, who, along with the children, seem the sanest of the bunch. Indeed, much of the laughter comes from the crazy antics of Chase's character, Clark, and the rest of the family.

One of my favorite scenes involves Clark applying some kind of lubricant to the bottom of his snow sled--more of a snow shield used as a sled--and rocketing like a bullet over a frozen pond, through a forest, and eventually stopping the middle of a road.

Another sequence that just cracks me up is when the oldest--and I do OLD--members of the family arrive, played by William Hickey and Mae Questel. The combination of a dotty old woman and the hysterically annoying voice of Hickey is wonderful, not to mention a reminder that while we cannot choose our family, the holidays are a socially acceptable time of the year to get plastered.

And then there's the beauty of a line, delivered by the wife of Clark's boss, played by Natalia Nogulich: "Yes officer, it seems my husband's been abducted. The man was wearing a blue leisure suite. Plates were from Kansas. He was a huge, beastly, bulging man." I can't quite pinpoint exactly why that line gives me the giggles, but even as I typed it out, I chuckled.

Truly, this is the film I turn to every Christmas for a good laugh, and it never disappoints.

The Nightmare Before Christmas

On the surface, this film may not look as though it really fits within the category of Christmas films since it bridges the divide between the most scared holiday for many and the most sinful. The beauty of Nightmare is in its daring to bring together two holidays that, before, many had not. What's funny is that Tim Burton got the idea while shopping and was struck by the odd pairing of Halloween and Christmas decorations as the store was shifting between the two seasons. See, inspiration can come from all sorts of places.

Now, in my analysis, I find that Jack Skellington represents the creative spirit, or the creative spark of imagination. After all, in order to truly bring about anything new, one must practically roam to the edge of sanity, cross that border, and hopefully come back with some fresh new insight, if they even come back at all. There's a reason why some of the most creative minds in the world don't do well when interacting with mere mortals; they just think differently.

And Jack is just that type of character. Watch as he follows through with his desire to take over Christmas (though not in a dictatorial way as he simply wants to give Santa a break); he goes along with such enthusiasm, despite being warned by Sally, that it's hard not to be swept up along with his crazy scheme.

I was not allowed to watch the film when it first came out because my parents believed it was sacrilegious and disgraced the true meaning of Christmas. I, however, now that I've seen it multiple times think nothing of the sort. In fact, my second favorite scene in the whole film occurs when Jack has been blown out of the sky and lands in a cemetery. Take heed, the director doesn't shoot him in a grave, but in the arms of an angel. Jack's intent was not to terrify or destroy Christmas, but to bring something new to those he loves and the people who celebrate during the all the different holidays. Despite the fact that he doesn't understand the nuances of Christmas, he understands the spirit and that is to spread joy and happiness to those around us. One person's joy is another's misery.

Since I told you about my second favorite scene in the film, I think it would be unfair to then move on the next film in my list without mentioning my favorite scene in the film. "Jack's Lament" is by far the most beautiful moment of the film, which is fitting because it sets up Jack's motivation. The song itself is sung by Danny Elfman, who also wrote all the songs and orchestrations. Elfman's voice is mesmerizing here (not to mention throughout the entire film), coupled with the striking visuals of Jack standing on top of hill with a curious little curved appendage and framed by a massive yellow moon. The first time I saw this particular scene, my jaw dropped to form a perfect "O".

This film is still the standard to which I measure all stop-motion films, and so far I haven't seen another quite like it, and likewise, Jack Skellington is among my favorite characters in literature.

The Polar Express

The Polar Express has quickly become not only my favorite 3D IMAX film ever (really the only 3D film I've seen that was worth the price), but also my favorite Christmas film.

There's not a single reference to any specific religion in the film, at least not one I can think of beyond the obvious reference in the fact that Christmas is being celebrated, but the holiday has become so separated in recent years from its religious roots that it's quite easy to not think of the birth of Christ when thinking of Christmas.

Well, I promised I wouldn't get into any religious talk and there I go writing about the lack of Christ in Christmas. Moving on...

As far as the film goes, it's a wonderfully mysterious film that doesn't make the main character's journey on the road to belief easy, and such a journey shouldn't be easy: Faith isn't easy. Indeed, at times there seem to be more questions raised than answers.

However, it's Robert Zemeckis' subtly that wins me over every time. In quite a few of Zemeckis' films, especially Contact (which I consider to be his best), a subtle magic works it's way through the hearts and minds of the film's audiences.

Take for instance the scene when Hero Boy decides to board the train, against his own skepticism, and notices the snowman in his front yard waving. But is it really waving? The train's slip stream could have caused the snowman's arm to move. There are many moments like that where seemingly magical elements are presented in such a subtle matter that the hero's skepticism is understandable.

Another of my favorite visuals occurs when the train is winding its way up a mountain, heading to the apex. Zemeckis' camera placement gives the audience the impression that the train will just fly off into the air (after all, it did just make its way across a frozen lake), but with a slight shift in perspective, we're shown a bridge that had been hidden by the mountain. It's a wonderful moment that plays with our desires to see something magical, only to have the expectation deflated when we realize it was only a trick, which is exactly what Hero Boy is experiencing: Moments of what look to be created by magic are only later revealed to be tricks of perception.

Now, the reason I believe this film is the best 3D film I've ever seen comes from the simple fact that the film is enhanced by the extra dimension rather than giving us something to distract our eyes. The first time I saw the film was on TV, and I loved it from the moment I saw that snowman wave. however, I felt the animation wasn't all that great. It was flat and seemingly without warmth, and the human animations seemed just a bit creepy. But when I saw it again in 3D IMAX, I saw animation so detailed and so wonderfully rendered that I was amazed I hadn't seen it that way before. The film's visuals were truly enhanced, and not just by the size of the screen. The human characters no longer looked like flat caricatures of what a human is supposed to look like, but characters with depth, shading, and rounded features that showcased all the minute facial expressions I didn't see on TV, or rather couldn't see.

If more 3D films were made with his type of enhancement in mind, I wouldn't mind paying the extra moment for tickets. Maybe not....

These are my favorite holiday films. They remind me of what I like best about the holidays: It's the time of the year when the best of humanity is on display; Christmas is the time of the year when I have the most hope for us all, hope that deep down most of us are good and that all we need in life is a little faith; not faith in a higher power, but faith each other.

On that note, I'm actually curious to know what films all of you like to watch during the holidays. What films make you feel all warm and fuzzy? What films make you want a hot, steaming cup of hot chocolate?