bitten by the slumdog

I don't make it to many movies (in fact, I see most while in flight!), but I made a point recently of viewing Slumdog Millionaire. While I'll try not to give too much away for those who haven't been yet, I will say this: if you haven't seen it yet, when are you planning on going?!

The storyline (warning: the following may be a spoiler of sorts), is that of Jamal, a young, uneducated man from the slums of Mumbai (formerly Bombay) who goes on the Indian version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire? and does so well that those in charge believe he is somehow cheating. During his interrogation he shares vignettes of his life story with the authorities that demonstrate just how he could know the answers to the questions given.

There is so much to this story, multiple subplots and themes, great visuals and music, life lessons and education, that it's hard to encapsulate feeling and thought. The most obvious theme woven is the love story that exists between Jamal and Latika, whom he first meets in the slums while they are still children. They travel through life, both together and apart, but he never loses his focus and commitment to her. Equally powerful is the bond Jamal shares with his older brother, Salim. Theirs is a journey of small boys who fight their way into adulthood as they criss-cross the great Indian subcontinent, growing, learning and surviving together. They share a secure relationship which somehow manages to transcend their circumstances, differences and choices.

And those circumstances and choices play a major role in the theme that I found perhaps most compelling. Both boys experience the same issues, problems and horrific events in their lives (although from different perspectives since Salim, as older brother, often assumes the role of protector). Though they encounter the same circumstances, results are very different. Their choices determine the paths they'll travel, and ultimately their life courses. I saw again that it's not the things that happen to us that matter most, but how we choose to respond to those things that determine our direction. We don't have to live as victims, because we have the ability to choose the better path...if we will.

Redemption is another powerful thread found in Slumdog. Salim consistently comes through for others (against his inclination of selfishness and ambition) when it matters most. And Jamal makes it his life priority to find Latika, regardless of personal cost or danger. Their actions scream to us the great value and need for the human connection, and are particularly provocative as they are set against the canvas of the massive Mumbai slums, which almost reflexively swallow and consume human life with no consideration or remorse.

I was disturbed by the condition of the children living in the slums and garbage heaps, enthralled by a culture so colorfully depicted, chilled by the gross inhumanity displayed by those consumed by their own avarice, moved by the determination to triumph in the face or overwhelming odds, and challenged to try harder to make a difference in my own world with those who suffer so greatly.

There are so many worthless movies that waste our time, money and focus. But once in a great while one comes along that shakes us up, makes us uncomfortable, moves our hearts and minds, and could be considered an investment of our attention and resources. This is that kind of experience. If you see Slumdog Millionaire (btw, it's rated R for violence which, though neither explicit or graphic, is often intense), you might do it with a friend, so you can unpack your thoughts and feelings with someone who has just made the bumpy ride with you. With any luck, you also will feel unsettled, and maybe even a bit rattled in your soul.

We should all be so lucky.

saddle up, cowboy

I got news this morning that I didn't want to hear. A call from the local coroner telling me that Cowboy passed away yesterday. David Hervert, aka Cowboy, was a special man to us. He was a homeless man who had first come to the church for assistance maybe eight years ago. I met him at that time with his wife. They were living in a small trailer a few miles away and needed a little help. Shortly after that time, she passed away and he ended up on the street.

Dave split time between the streets and area motels, doing odd jobs for cash. He gave his life to Christ and became a part of the family at Knott Avenue. His edges were rough and he had issues (don't we all), but he had found his home. A couple of years ago he became ill and fell into a coma, having to have both legs amputated. Dave was comatose more than three months and I was asked by the hospital's board of ethics to sit on a panel evaluating his situation. I shared with a group of doctors about Dave's contribution to the community and to our church. It was ultimately decided to remove life support and prepare him for the death that was already near. Two days later, I received a call from the hospital. Dave had awakened and asked two things: "Where am I?" and "Where's Mike?!" The nurse said, "I think we need to take him out of hospice and place him in convalescence!"

The time that followed was not easy for him. His recovery was slow and incomplete, and his inability to get healthy meant he returned to a convalescent home, where he ultimately died. But he was a fighter. He struggled, he tried with all he had and knew. We'll always remember him as the one who wrote out nametags at each the Community Supper. The one who shared a large, toothless (mostly) grin so easily. The one who was writing his own Bible, patiently transcribing the Scriptures day after day onto a pad. He had finished a lot of it, by the way.

I miss Cowboy already. And I'll sure miss him when we gather for our Community Supper Friday night, the 27th. We'll put together a memorial service for him that night, because even though our society as a whole won't miss him, we will. Those on the street, and his church family as well. Dave made an imprint on a bunch of us, and we're the better for it. The good news is that his new body has legs- and teeth too, I suppose. And he's resting in the presence of the God that he'd come to know. No more pain. No more sorrow. No more tears. Only rejoicing, praise and gratitude for who God is and what He's done.

Hold the gate open, Cowboy. We'll be there soon enough and will dance together. That'll be a good time- I can hardly wait. And I know you'll be good at it.

Even with those boots I'm sure you'll be wearing.

how free is speech?

Maybe you've heard the report. Not long ago a student at Los Angeles City College was shut down in a communications class as he gave a speech about marriage. The student quoted from the Bible, but seems his teacher didn't appreciate his point of view and had a few choice words for him. Here's a synopsis from the February 16 LA Times:

A classroom dispute at Los Angeles City College in the emotional aftermath of Proposition 8 has given rise to a lawsuit testing the balance between 1st Amendment rights and school codes on offensive speech.

Student Jonathan Lopez says his professor called him a "fascist b_____d" and refused to let him finish his speech against same-sex marriage during a public speaking class last November, weeks after California voters approved the ban on such unions.

When Lopez tried to find out his mark for the speech, the professor, John Matteson, allegedly told him to "ask God what your grade is," the suit says. Lopez also said the teacher threatened to have him expelled when he complained to higher-ups.

Not all the facts and particulars of the case have been made known yet, but I'm sure we'll be hearing more in the days to come. I was interested in the administrative stance (so far). A spokesperson agreed that this was a very serious charge and that there would be an investigation, but that the student in question had said things that were (allegedly) offensive to some of the students, as if this might justify the instructor's response.

Interesting stance, since I'm fairly certain that had the ideologies of the players been reversed (a religious instructor shouting down a student with a liberal viewpoint), there would be a louder uproar from certain community sectors, and probably the media as well. I'm concerned that the civil rights of those who espouse conservative, religious (particularly Christian) views often have those views easily trodden under by opponents with not a whole lot of concern. And the school's question of offensive speech never seems to be of high priority when such speech runs the other direction. Free speech, in its very concept, may offend some, but we are called on as a "free speech society" to learn to tolerate, dialogue and deal maturely with those with whom we disagree. I believe that to be one of our cornerstone values as a nation, and something about which conservatives are reminded regularly.

I'm looking and hoping for a consistent standard in this case, although I confess that I'm doubtful. It should be interesting to watch, as it may be a kind of measure of just where we're heading when it comes to the rights of all. Keep your eyes open and we'll see what the schools (and perhaps, courts) will say. I've got a feeling we'll be visiting the subject again here. Until then, keep on speaking truth...in love, of course.

And don't worry- one way or the other, it won't go unnoticed.

be my valentine?

While buying groceries in our local Ralphs store yesterday (Valentine's Day) I observed something interesting. It was the end of the afternoon, and as I passed by the card aisle and flowers section, I saw it- that "deer-in-the-headlights" look in the eyes of far too many of men. There they were, young and old, professional and blue collar, nervously scurrying through what was left of the Valentine's card selection, and sweating over the exquisite assortment of Ralphs' own bouquets, floral arrangements, potted plants, Mylar balloons, chocolates and stuffed animals. Most were trying to appear nonchalant and dispassionate (and I'm sure some were). But there was a profound sense of concern and determination in the store. Evidently most had, for one reason or another, failed to acquire whatever it was expected of them by their significant other. So here they were, bound together and trying to find that perfect "I love you" gift at a grocery store.

I don't pretend to know why they were there at the 11th hour. Or why their sense of imagination and romance led them only as far as the produce section. Or that I haven't found myself in similar straits in my own life. But I do know that when we say we love someone and that he or she is the most important person in our lives, we do well to make that love a constant priority, and not just on special occasions but every day. It's easy to take love for granted, to allow it to lose the luster and shine it had in its beginning. Special days like Valentine's help us recall and rekindle that specialness. Remind us of who and what really matters. Help sustain us during the rough patches we encounter in our journeys. But mostly, these set-apart times tell us that each day, each week, each month should be special. And that flowers, chocolates, cards and bears need not be relegated to calendar postings, but should be the stuff that reflects our hearts all the time. That way, we won't have to worry about last-minute offerings to prove our devotion. It will have been long settled. And we can relax.

Hope your celebration was...and IS...a great one!

american idols

I've been reading through the Old Testament book of Jeremiah for awhile now, taking my time to try to get a feel for what was going on that sparked such an outcry from the prophet and the God he served.

Israel was as mess by the time Jeremiah hit the scene, and his repetitive call was for the people to repent and return to serve the God who had done so much for them, who loved them so much, but who was ready to pronounce judgment on them for their sin and rebellion. As I read through the chapters and hear again of Israel's problems, there's one issue that keeps exploding off the pages at me- the issue of idolatry. Regardless of other issues, the center of so much trouble was Israel's unwillingness to follow God. The people repeatedly ran after the false gods of their neighbors, serving wooden idols instead of the living God. They continually traded their status with the Creator of the universe for a worthless "bag of beans," temporary pleasure at the foot of worthless images.

Bad, bad people. How could they be so shortsighted and foolish? How could they toss aside the truth that they had known for the lies that seem so obvious to us? How could they desert their God for the temporal pleasures and empty promises of this world? Wait a minute...am I thinking of God's people then or God's people now? The similarities are too close to be comfortable, and before I judge those who lived so long ago, I'd better check the mirror and the situation around me, because I can see some real connection.

Perhaps more than any other issue, we continue to struggle to with idolatry, even as our ancestors did. Because anything you and I place before our commitment to following God becomes our idol. It can be ourselves, our ambitions, our careers, other people, money, fame, or a host of other imposter-gods. Doesn't even matter if it's intrinsically good- if it crowds out our love for God and claims first place in our lives, it becomes our idol, and we become its servant. I'm not feeling real good about that whole concept right now, both because I know my own heart, and because I see so many who claim to follow Jesus, but demonstrate allegiance to other things through their actions and attitudes.

Let's not kid ourselves. If God promised and delivered judgment upon the people He loved, those He called the apple of His eye way back then, will He not do likewise today? We're fools if we think we deserve or will receive a different dispensation for our spiritual adultery. It's way past time to wake up and set things straight. Got to get rid of the false gods (which are no gods at all) and get back to where we need to be...before the throne of grace, committed to following the path of the one, true, living God. Get that First Commandment right and everything else will pretty much fall in place. But mess it up and all else will go sideways as well.

Just ask Israel.

connections

I had a great surprise today, the kind of serendipitous event that reminded me of the bigger picture of connection within God's community. I received a visit from an old friend (time-wise, not age) this afternoon. I was working with Robert (my great bud and assistant) in the church's auditorium when I heard a deep voice in another room ask him if he knew where Mike Carman was. When I heard him say that his name was Pete Contreras, my heart jumped (ok, I do have atrial fibrillation- irregular heartbeat- but this was different!).

I've known Pete for more than 20 years, but haven't seen him in a long, long time (can't remember just how long). Pete was a young and aspiring college student when I first met him in the mid-80's, eager to learn and do urban ministry. 20-some years later, he and his wife Julie (and their kids) are still serving in urban San Diego. They've ministered many years downtown there, working with the least, lost and last on the streets. Recently they launched a new church plant out of their own home. They have more than 60 people meeting there and are looking for a bigger place to hold their burgeoning flock. They're committed to making a holistic difference in the lives of those in the city, knowing that although salvation is the ultimate need of people, there is also need of life skills, personal value, safety and purpose...and that's what they've committed themselves to. They're a great example and model for those of us who work in the urban arena.

It was great to connect again with a dear friend and brother, one who has remained faithful over the long haul, who has put his hand to the plow and not looked back. My heart was refreshed by the short time we spent together, and I was encouraged to make sure I'm going full-throttle in my own efforts with those on our streets. I was also reminded of the value of investing my life into others, knowing that there's a great return when we share what God has given us with those around us. Pete was a faithful learner many years ago, and a faithful leader today. And my life has been blessed (again!) because of him. How sweet of God to allow a surprise "shot in the arm" for my life today!

Got any friends who could use that kind of surprise from you?