Page 2498 – Christianity Today (2024)

The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (afsp.org) reports that suicide is the fourth leading cause of death among those 18 to 65 years old, and the third leading cause among adolescents and young adults. Because 90 percent of suicide victims suffer from a diagnosable psychiatric disorder, early recognition and treatment save lives. Risk factors include:

• Psychiatric disorders
• Substance abuse
• Previous suicide attempts and/or a family history of suicide or mental illness
• Demographics (Elderly white men have the highest suicide rate, and individuals with an artistic bent suffer disproportionately from mood disorders.)

Warning signs include:

• Persistent low mood
• Loss of interest in enjoyable activities
• Hopelessness
• Anxiety, psychic pain, and inner tension
• Withdrawal
• Sleep disturbances
• Increased alcohol and/or drug use
• Risk-taking
• Talk of suicide or wanting to die
• Giving away prized possessions
• Sudden purchase of a firearm, poisons, or medications
• Increased irritability or anger

If you suspect someone is at risk for suicide, afsp suggests you:

• Ask if the person is contemplating suicide and has a plan.
• Avoid using guilt or argument. Instead, express your concern with empathy, assuring the person that suicidal feelings are temporary, problems are solvable, and depression is treatable.
• Encourage the person to seek professional help. Because suicidal individuals often don’t believe they can be helped, they may need tangible support.
• In a crisis situation, take the person to a hospital emergency room.
• Do not leave the person alone.
• Remove potentially lethal objects that could be used in a suicide attempt.
• If necessary, call 911 or the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-talk.

Copyright © 2009 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

Related Elsewhere:

Christianity Today has a special section on .

Other articles on suicide include:

Suicide — A Preventable Tragedy? | A ministry helps churches handle the complex issue. (July 6, 2000)

CT Classic: Suicide and the Silence of Scripture | Though the church has come to opposing conclusions about the fate of victims, we have a mandate to minister to those left behind. (July 6, 2000)

Is Suicide Unforgivable? | What is the biblical hope and comfort we can offer a suicide victim’s family and friends? (July 6, 2000)

When he was 13 months old, my son Gabriel had his first life-threatening asthma attack. As my mom and I put finishing touches on dresses and party favors for my upcoming wedding, Gabe grew listless, and his breathing increasingly labored. Throughout that busy day, we blindly took turns calling the doctor and soothing Gabe with home remedies. By nightfall, we were in a hospital emergency room being introduced to the miracles that can be wrought with adrenaline and oral steroids. Gabriel spent the next five days, including the wedding day, recovering in an oxygen tent.

This memory reminds me that joy and pain and illness have always mingled to shape my family. Gabriel is the half-Tanzanian child of a failed college romance. As I wrote in “A Laughing Child in Exchange for Sin” (CT, February 2004), there was no hiding the circ*mstances of his birth after I married a man who is white like me. There was also no remedy for the pain of those circ*mstances, other than the salve of love.

For nearly two decades, love gave rein to Gabriel, his brother, my husband, and me as we galloped prettily through life. Then we hit a rough patch. By the time Gabe graduated from college, we were barely recognizable to ourselves and to each other. In “Sorrow But No Regrets” (CT, July 2007), I wrote that our church experiences alone had left my husband and me limping and our sons jaded. Again I told myself that home remedies and time would heal us; I told others that I would prove the supremacy of love in my children’s lives. Just about the time I thought we might regain our family stride, Gabriel died by suicide. He was 23.

Grief and Guilt

The prenuptial flashback soothes amid relentless waves of grief and guilt. It reminds me that I am not God; I cannot know or see everything. It reminds me also of the many times when I got my child the help he needed before it was too late. My sanity and faith demand such reminders.

Early on, the suicide felt like a cruel cosmic joke. It was as if God, or the Devil, or some Job-like combination thereof, was mocking and toying with us. Had my husband and I not been devoted, if imperfect, parents? And what kind of awful irony was it that our boy with the sunny disposition, the one whose story embodied the pro-life message, would take his own life? Would his legacy be reduced to symbols of social stigma instead, in birth and in death? Had I not the previous day submitted a story about the Psychiatry and Spirituality Forum at the University of California-Irvine to a news outlet, my interest having been piqued by parental concern? I had even blogged about a forum lecture on suicide prevention. Surely I should have recognized the warning signs.

And yet I did not see what only God and Gabriel knew—that he was in such anguish, he saw no way out save death. All it took was a few final triggers, a good deal of alcohol (as is the case in many suicides), and easy access to means.

In a diabolic twist, those who exhibit the most pronounced warning signs of suicide tend to choose less lethal means, while those who act on impulse generally display fewer symptoms and employ deadly means—like firearms or jumping from a precipice. Less than 10 percent of suicide attempt survivors go on to take their own lives. For more than 90 percent, the crisis passes.

Shortly after the police came and went the night of Gabriel’s death, I called not a pastor or a friend but Aaron Kheriaty, the psychiatrist who directs the Psychiatry and Spirituality Forum. He patiently assured us that Gabriel’s death was not our fault, and gently but firmly insisted that the death would never make sense: suicide is inherently an irrational act. Kheriaty was a safe person to invite into our moment of horror, unlike some pastors who later described the suicide as an “unwise choice” and simple spiritual failure.

Kheriaty also spoke at Gabriel’s funeral. His (recorded) homily produced a framework for my grief and provides rest for my mind amid ongoing battles with self-doubt.

We survivors replay final conversations with the deceased in our minds—like the one Gabriel had with a friend days before he died in which he made passing reference to the means he would employ. Or the one I had with him before he walked out the door that evening: “Gabe, honey,” I had said. “What’s going on? Your eyes look dead.” He had simply shrugged, and I let him go.

It’s possible that Gabriel was suffering from bipolar disorder. In An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness, Kay Redfield Jamison, Johns Hopkins University professor of psychiatry, describes her experience:

A floridly psychotic mania was followed, inevitably, by a long and lacerating, black, suicidal depression; it lasted more than a year and a half. From the time I woke up in the morning until the time I went to bed at night, I was unbearably miserable and seemingly incapable of any kind of joy or enthusiasm. Everything—every thought, word, movement—was an effort. Everything that once was sparkling was now flat. … The wretched, convoluted, and pathetically confused mass of gray worked only well enough to torment me with a dreary litany of my inadequacies and shortcomings in character, and to taunt me with the total, desperate hopelessness of it all … . Death and its kin were constant companions.

Gabe’s written descriptions of himself and his depression are markedly similar to Jamison’s, yet this inner reality was largely invisible to others.

Kheriaty explained, “For reasons that are quite beyond our comprehension, God allowed Gabriel to suffer a terrible illness [three, in fact: asthma, neurofibromatosis, and depression] … . Depression affects not just a person’s moods and emotions; it also constricts a person’s thinking, often to the point where the person feels entirely trapped and cannot see any way out of his mental suffering.” Depression can “destroy a person’s capacity to reason clearly” and “severely impair his sound judgment, such that someone suffering in this way is liable to do things that, when they are not depressed, they would never consider.” He concluded: “Gabriel’s death issued from an unsound mind that was afflicted by a devastating disorder.”

Gabe, like nearly half of all college students, became depressed when he left home. Intermittently I had urged him to take advantage of the school’s counseling services. In hindsight, I wish we had issued an ultimatum: “Get help or come home.”

Only in the final weeks did his symptoms become increasingly pronounced. He became uncharacteristically withdrawn, jumpy, and irritable, such that his emotions seemed out of proportion to events. Overdraft and delinquency notices arrived in the mail almost daily. He wore dirty clothes to work, slept erratically, and displayed little appetite.

However, days before his death, Gabriel performed at a stand-up comedy club. On the day he died, he joked with coworkers and publicly professed his love for Jesus. Experts describe this contradiction as the “suicide calm” that sets in once someone has decided, finally, to end the mental torment. The vacant look I had noted in his eyes had been a function of both suicidal depression and detachment. In mind and spirit, he had already left us.

Coming to Terms

Suicide survivor literature is full of clichés for banishing guilt, such as, “If love could have saved your family member, they’d still be alive.” It’s a Band-Aid approach that helps in the short run but offers little lasting relief. I am convinced that Gabriel’s death represents communal failure. His personal foundations had continually eroded over several years. Some of that erosion was his own fault; much of it was beyond his control. At the heart of my guilt is the fact that I was exhausted and distracted by ongoing trials. I wasn’t there for him in the way he needed.

In Trauma and Recovery, Judith Herman writes,

Beyond the issues of shame and doubt, traumatized people struggle to arrive at a fair and reasonable assessment of their conduct, finding a balance between unrealistic guilt and denial of all moral responsibility. In coming to terms with issues of guilt, the survivor needs the help of others who are willing to recognize that a traumatic event has occurred, to suspend their preconceived judgments, and simply to bear witness to her tale. When others can listen without ascribing blame, the survivor can accept her own failure to live up to ideal standards at the moment of extremity. Ultimately, she can come to a realistic judgment of her conduct and a fair attribution of responsibility.

Survivors need time and space to come to a realistic self-assessment. I trust that for me, the crucible will forge a better person, and lead to peace.

Kheriaty closed his message with a meditation on the Prince of Peace.

On the cross and in his agony, our Lord suffered not just our physical afflictions, but our mental anguish as well. Out of the depths we cry to him, and he reaches down into our depths to raise us up with him. God knows the depth of our suffering. He knows our fragile heart. And Christ’s own heart, a heart of flesh, a heart both human and divine, is merciful beyond measure. It is in this mercy that we place our hope. It is into these hands stretched out on the cross in a gesture of love that we entrust Gabriel.

Amen. When I think of all that Gabriel suffered in this life, I do not understand. I find it difficult to trust God or engage him with the intimacy I once enjoyed. And yet every day, I inhale moments of grace. I am immeasurably grateful for the privilege of being Gabriel’s mother. By faith, I now see my serendipitous meeting with Aaron Kheriaty not as a cosmic joke, but as evidence of God’s immanence.

As Gabriel was walking out the door of this life, I called out after him, “I love you.” Love is as strong as death, wrote Solomon. The love of God is stronger.

Christine A. Scheller is a writer living in central New Jersey.

Copyright © 2009 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

Related Elsewhere:

Christianity Today has a special section on .

Other articles on suicide include:

Suicide — A Preventable Tragedy? | A ministry helps churches handle the complex issue. (July 6, 2000)

CT Classic: Suicide and the Silence of Scripture | Though the church has come to opposing conclusions about the fate of victims, we have a mandate to minister to those left behind. (July 6, 2000)

Is Suicide Unforgivable? | What is the biblical hope and comfort we can offer a suicide victim’s family and friends? (July 6, 2000)

The subtitle of Raymond Cohen’s instructive book might more accurately read, “How Christians Nearly Destroyed Their Holiest Shrine.” The battle over the supposed location of Calvary and Jesus’ tomb has raged for two millennia, beginning with the Roman Emperor Hadrian—who, in the 2nd century, as part of his rebuilding of Jerusalem, constructed a temple to Venus over the site. In the 4th century, Emperor Constantine had the temple replaced with a Christian basilica. Then in 614 Persians swept in, burning the church.

When Muslim rulers replaced the Persians, they rebuilt and protected the shrine. Attacks four centuries later on the limestone of the tomb helped inflame European Christians. When the Crusaders conquered Jerusalem, they renovated the earlier rotunda and its chapels and expanded the church to incorporate the excavated hill of Calvary. Though Arab Muslims soon retook Jerusalem, Saladin continued to protect Christian holy places.

Interestingly, the property was best cared for under Ottoman rule. By the 14th century, oversight of the church was in the hands of Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and Armenian Orthodox monks, with Coptic, Syrian, and Ethiopian Orthodox monks claiming “rights of access.” The grand vizier, Rajib Pasha, told the French ambassador, representing the Latin interest, “These places, my Lord, belong to the Sultan and he gives them to whomsoever he pleases.” Under sharia law, Cohen says, all holy places, including Jewish and Christian shrines, were to be protected (though in practice such protection was often lacking). Also, no single entity could “own” religious shrines in the Western sense.

Franciscans and Orthodox monks vied—or paid for—favor with their Ottoman overlords. In 1757, wearied of their intrigues and violent skirmishes, the Turks arranged what came to be known as the Status Quo, which divided the church among the rival groups.

At the center of the church, on an east-west axis, stand two domes. The larger, called the Rotunda, contains the Edicule, a building-within-a building. It contains the entrance to Christ’s tomb. The smaller dome, the Katholicon, joins the Rotunda at the Triumphal Arch. Around both the Katholicon and the Rotunda are numerous outcroppings of chapels sacred to the various factions. Also courtyards, both covered and open, ambulatories, porches, apses, galleries, a refectory, store rooms, and even an ancient latrine.

In this war of square feet, the Status Quo gave the Greeks the lion’s share, followed by the Roman Catholic Franciscans, with the Armenians running a distant third. Trailing behind in the dust of small claims were the Coptic, Syrian, and Ethiopian Orthodox monks. The document also established rules for the use of the common spaces and designated times for each of the parties’ services. Finally, it entrusted in perpetuity the keys to the church to two Muslim families living next door.

The Status Quo, at first a tacit agreement, was given written form in 1853. When the ruling was incorporated into international law in 1878, an added clause explicitly stated that “no alterations can be made in the status quo in the holy places.” Unfortunately, the document was later destroyed in a fire, and each faction retains its own reconstructed version of the original. (You begin to wonder, reading Cohen’s account, why Mel Brooks has never made a film based on this saga.)

No doubt the hope of both the Ottoman sultans and the international courts was that the Status Quo would do away with conflict between the various church parties. Instead, the ruling, especially the phrase concerning “no alterations,” rigidified territorial imperatives to an extent undreamed of by its authors. (A ladder was left on a window ledge over the church’s entrance sometime before 1852. Window ledges and doors are designated as common areas. So far, no one has removed the ladder.) The seemingly straightforward ruling did not do justice to the complexity of the disputes. The Armenians, for instance, had been given custody of the Chapel of Nicodemus in an apse let into the wall of the Rotunda. At the entrance of the Edicule, the Copts had a small chapel. But since the Greeks controlled the Rotunda, access to such spaces became problematic.

The later history of the basilica is a shameful tale of petty meanness as the various factions asserted their territorial rights. Squabbles erupted over who would be allowed to scrub a certain step or on what pillar a party might hang an icon. Meanwhile, damage from natural disasters and human neglect went unrepaired by the clerical conservators. A serious earthquake in 1927 severely damaged the supporting walls of the Rotunda. Water and weather had further eroded them. A subsequent fire weakened the large dome.

Following World War I, the British Mandate inherited the hostilities engendered by the primacy of Greek custody. In an effort to save the structure from collapse following the 1927 earthquake, the British employed architect William Harvey, whose meticulous 1939 report on the history and current condition of the church established a baseline for measuring future decline. Harvey concluded that restoration of the Rotunda, both its walls and dome, needed immediate attention. Other parts of the higgledy-piggledy conglomeration were in a grave state as well.

The only thing that remained unshakeable was the monks’ determination to jealously defend their rights of custody. Repairs could only be carried out by the mutual agreement of the parties involved. And, quite literally, no one was giving an inch.

Next, a series of experts from the international community of architects spent years testing the condition of the structures, proposing repairs, and advising the monks, mostly to no avail. Making repairs on any part might assert ownership, and no one was willing to grant anyone else that risky privilege.

Then came World War II and the ascendancy of Archbishop Gustavo Testa, the Roman apostolic delegate in Palestine. Until then, the elected Greek Patriarch of the Holy Places in Jerusalem had always shown the most muscle, even during the decades when the patriarchs in charge were wantonly corrupt. The Italian Testa proved a wily fox and a match for Patriarch Timotheos Themlis, an efficient administrator and skilled linguist.

Testa appears to have represented not only the Roman Church but also the Mussolini government. In 1940, as Italy invaded Egypt, he was finishing the design for the Church of the Holy Sepulchre as a Roman Catholic cathedral, a dream he expected to be realized as soon as the Italian army took over Palestine. His intentions were echoed in a sermon by the Bishop of Terracina: “Only when the Flag of Fascist and Catholic Italy is unfurled over Christ’s Sepulchre will the Holy Land have received the veneration it deserves.” Even after the establishment of the state of Israel, Testa continued to represent the Roman Church in Palestine.

Tens of thousands of pilgrims visited the shrine annually, unaware that the whole structure might well have come crashing down around their ears, owing to the unwillingness of the putative conservators to agree on its basic maintenance. Not until the decade of 1951-1961 did the various powers finally began to make progress in negotiating plans for the church’s restoration, and then only because the ruler of Jordan threatened to take matters into his own hands.

Eventually a Common Technical Bureau was established to oversee the work. An archaeological excavation of the buried foundations showed that the current outer walls follow the outline of the Crusader church. It took over three decades before the stabilization and repair of the Rotunda was completed in 1997. The Edicule within the Rotunda that covers the empty tomb is still waiting for agreements on its repair.

Sadly, the hostilities have not ended. In 2002 a monk moved his chair into the shade from its designated location. The resulting mêlée sent eleven monks to the hospital. In 2004, a chapel door was left open. No one was arrested after the fist fight. On Palm Sunday 2008, a Greek monk was ejected by rival monks from their territory. When police came, the brawlers turned on them. Yet another squabble made the news several months ago.

Cohen’s work of tracing this complex and unseemly history is a marvel of scholarship. The common reader may well feel overwhelmed by the quantity of detail, both historical and technical. No doubt recognizing this difficulty, Cohen provides floor plans and elevations of the structure, a glossary of architectural terms, and a dramatis personae as well as the usual index and bibliography. The 79 pages of notes are mercifully placed at the end of the text in order to avoid interrupting the narrative. A professor of international studies at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, Cohen lives in the vicinity of the church. Hearing of clerical clashes, he strolled over one day to see the action. That was the beginning of his interest in the church and its history. His research is both meticulous and evenhanded. Christians of whatever stripe should be grateful that he has put the mildest and most hopeful interpretation possible on a chapter in our history that does little credit to the Christ who rose from that tomb.

Virginia and David Owens live and write in Huntsville, Texas. Praying with Beads: Daily Prayers for the Christian Year, which Virginia wrote with Nan Lewis Doerr, was published by Eerdmans in 2007. Virginia and David Owens live and write in Huntsville, Texas. Praying with Beads: Daily Prayers for the Christian Year, which Virginia wrote with Nan Lewis Doerr, was published by Eerdmans in 2007.

Copyright © 2009 by the author or Christianity Today/Books & Culture magazine.Click here for reprint information on Books & Culture.

Ever faced a leadership decision, and didn’t feel you had all the information you needed to decide? For instance, to hire or not to hire? To discipline or extend more grace?

Andy Stanley opened the Catalyst West conference with the best leadership talk I’ve ever heard from him. He clearly connected with the 3,200 attenders by describing the inescapable fact of life for leaders: you have to lead even when you don’t know for certain what to do.

Or, as Andy reframed the issue: “uncertainty is why we need leaders.” “God gets more out of chaos than out of wrinkle-free days.” If every situation were clear, no leadership would be needed. “Uncertainty underscores the need for leadership. Uncertainty is the arena in which leadership is recognized.” For leaders, “Uncertainty is job security!” The crowd laughed. Nervously.

Those of us who’ve followed Andy for a while recognize this theme as one that he first explored in 2003 in an article in Leadership (“The Uncertain Leader”) and in his book The Next Generation Leader. But Andy has continued to develop his thoughts nicely since then. And with the current economy, the awareness of uncertainty has, uh, certainly been heightened.

When you’re uncertain, Andy told the assembled leaders, focus on two elements:

Those elements are clarity and flexibility. Then he unpacked those concepts.

Clarity means focusing on your original calling. What’s the essence of your ministry? That can and should remain crystal clear even amid confusing circ*mstances. Andy’s biblical reference was Joshua clearly telling the Israelites to pack their provisions and organize themselves to approach the Jordan River even though he was uncertain exactyly what would happen when they got there.

Flexibility means knowing the difference between your vision and your plans. Don’t mistake your plans for your vision. Your plans can and must change frequently. But the vision remains the same. Are you an evangelist? Keep presenting the gospel even as your methods change. Are you a disciple maker? Keep developing converts into well-grounded followers of Jesus even as the starting points and the pressing applications change.

“Be confident even in uncertainty,” Andy said. “Admit that you don’t know the future, but you can confidently follow what God has told you to do.”

Andy was spot-on in reading the times, reading the audience, and reading the need of the moment.

Andy also provided a synopsis (and a great example or two) of clarity amid uncertainty in his article in the new digizine Catalyst Leadership which you can find at www.CatalystLeadershipDigital.com

And now, I’m not certain how to end this post, but it’s clear I must.

When I was a graduate student and the crust of the earth was still warm, we looked forward every week to an announcement by our professor of American history of some brilliant “revisionist” book demanding our immediate attention. If the topic of today’s seminar was the establishment of the Constitution of the United States, then what we must read first was the work of Charles Beard, in which we would learn that not the disinterested patriotism of “the Fathers,” but rather profit-making opportunities available to the insiders through the upcoming assumption of the debts of the States, was the driving force in the creation of that document. If our topic was America’s entry into World War II, we should at once get familiar with the literature outlining the hidden history behind Pearl Harbor. As budding scholars, it was essential that we not be duped by the unexamined assumptions that informed popular history and the high school textbooks.

A lifetime later, nobody reads Charles Beard or has even heard of him. Meanwhile, most of the assumptions that Beard and all the other revisionists undertook to overthrow are back in place. George Washington still stands as the father of his country, his reputation, if anything, improved. Franklin Roosevelt—whose name, we were given to understand, would be forever blighted by the Truth about Pearl Harbor—stands higher than ever.

We should never regret or resent the exercise of revisionism. The honest and tenured scholars never tire of hearing about new evidence, and they welcome excuses to go back to the archives. When the latest revisionist spasm has passed, the result is usually reinstatement of the hoary generalities, more confidently stated because tested against the challenges of the revisionists.

The more passion is aroused by a subject, the more likely it is to attract revisionism, and few subjects generate as much passion as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. According to Neve Gordon (a Senior Lecturer in Politics and Government at Ben-Gurion University, Beersheva, Israel), the full and sufficient explanation for why everything has gone wrong in what used to be the Palestine Mandate and became Occupied Palestine and Israel is Israeli contempt for human life. In Israel’s Occupation, which will no doubt be cited to provide context for many accounts of the recent clash between Israeli forces and Hamas in Gaza, Gordon re-tells the history of Israel from this perspective.

The fundamental Israeli contempt for Palestinian life in particular was first demonstrated in 1947-1948 by Israel’s “campaign of ethnic cleansing,” effectively accomplished by the beginning of 1949. But the 1948-1949 war was just the opening stage of a “macabre” policy intended to accomplish the liquidation of the Palestinian people. After its victory in the Six Day War of 1967, Israel’s game shifted. Henceforth, Israel pursued “a politics of life,” allowing it to present its actions toward Palestinians as “moral.” The scheme (quoting a 1970 report by Israel’s military) was this: “The only way to avoid a potential outburst of social forces is to strive continuously for the improvement of the standard of living and the services of this underprivileged society.” (How diabolical can you get? Thank God this did not occur to Hitler.)

In the 1990s, following the First Intifada, Rabin’s government lured the Pollyanna Arafat and the PLO into the Oslo agreement, knowing that self-government among the Palestinians would fail. Having set up the Palestinian Authority and having given over to it full responsibility for the care and feeding of its people (another master-stroke of subterfuge—”outsourcing the occupation,” as Gordon writes), it only remained for Israel to sabotage every project that the pa launched, so that chaos would result. The end game, Gordon suggests, should be called “the Somalia Plan,” as it is meant to leave the Palestinians where we find the Somalis today—in a field of “warlordism.” Understood in this way, Hamas is Israel’s creation, notwithstanding that the leaders of Hamas imagine that it is their message and their good deeds that have won them the right to govern. In all its phases, Israel’s regime has been marked by sad*stic behavior toward Palestinians, extra attention being given to the slaughter of women and children. The Palestinian has been reduced to “hom*o sacer, people whose lives can be taken with impunity.” The Israelis seek to persuade us that they are at risk of death because of suicide-bombers and the incessant rhetoric about the Muslim duty to annihilate the sons of pigs and monkeys. None of this is needed to explain Israel’s conduct, however; that’s simply the way Jews are. By contrast, Palestinian leaders, from the days of Yasir Arafat and the PLO down to the present Hamas leadership, have always dealt out life and promise. That’s simply the way Arabs are. There is no denying this book’s qualification as scholarly. Its conclusions are drawn from the reading of a considerable body of scholarly monographs, research papers, and government reports. To the interpretation of these sources, alas, Gordon brings a toxic, irrational, cynical spirit, contempt for Israel’s politicians and a deaf ear to anything that Israel has to offer in defense of its own actions. The book has no claim to the honorable adjective “revisionist.” It is sheer vilification.

But Israeli historiography has been alive with honorable revisionism for many years. The back-cover blurb of Benny Morris’ new book accurately describes him as “the leading figure among Israel’s New Historians, who over the past two decades have reshaped our understanding of the Israeli-Arab conflict.” In Righteous Victims: A History of the Zionist Arab Conflict, 1881-2001 (published in 1999) and in earlier monographs Morris challenged the popular historians and the controversialists who plunder the history books for one-liners. In 1948: A History of the First Arab-Israeli War, Morris has reviewed all the revisionist literature, re-worked the shelves of the archives to make sure that nothing has been overlooked, and given us a meticulously researched day-by-day narrative of the first Arab-Israeli war.

After the first two chapters, which review the history down to the Partition Decision of November 29, 1947, the account becomes almost exclusively military, although the political and diplomatic context is brought into place whenever needed. Morris’ recital is always deliberate and thorough. While the landscape of what was then Mandate Palestine is incredibly varied, its geographical scope is compact (when compared, that is, to the setting of the great wars of past and present). Readers who do not know the ground from personal experience will find Morris’ descriptions of all the battles perfectly lucid. There is a generous allotment of maps, all conveniently located in the text.

Morris addresses every issue that has engaged the revisionists, marshalling the relevant documents and setting out the defensible facts. He has calmly weighed the relative advantages and disadvantages of the two sides in 1948 and, not surprisingly, has concluded that the Israelis had advantages in some categories (for example, in access to weapons, to supplies and to funds) where popular pro-Israel historians notice only disadvantages, so as to underscore the David vs. Goliath theme. He has examined thoroughly the role of the British, the Americans, and the Russians; the lobbying at the UN in the days before the Partition vote; the tug-of-war within the Truman Administration; the facts about Deir Yassin and Kfar Etzion; the Haifa campaign of 1947 and the Mount Scopus ambush; the actual makeup of the several invading Arab armies, their strengths, their different war aims, and their differences of behavior; the facts about diplomacy between Abdullah of Jordan and the Zionists; the facts about what the Zionist leaders hoped to gain and what they wanted the local Arabs to do; their expectations about the eventual boundaries, the motives behind their strategic decisions—and, most contentious of all, the facts about refugees.

Typical of Morris’ candor is his conclusion that, “in truth … the Jews committed far more atrocities than the Arabs and killed far more civilians and pows in deliberate acts of brutality in the course of 1948. This was probably due to the circ*mstance that the victorious Israelis captured some four hundred Arab villages and towns during April-November 1948, whereas the Palestinian Arabs and ala [Arab Liberation Army] failed to take any settlements and the Arab armies that invaded in mid-May [those of Syria, Egypt, Iraq, Jordan, and Lebanon—not to mention several contingents of ‘volunteers’ from other Muslim nations] overran fewer than a dozen Jewish settlements.”

We can now see more clearly than ever that the most effective way to answer the anti-Israel polemicists (the Norman Finkelsteins and the Noam Chomkys here in our part of the world, and the entire legion of Muslim and Arab polemicists) is also the most honorable: with fully documented truth. Ultimately, the Jews won because of their vastly superior morale—which was an outcome of their better-developed civil sense and (paradoxically) of their realization that, should they fail to win their battles, they would face the completion of the Holocaust.

Those, like myself, who have a declared bias in favor of Israel but have also read enough history to know that it is never about angels of light and angels of darkness will leave these pages more confident, not less, about celebrating the decision of Harry Truman to support the Partition in 1947 and to recognize the State of Israel on its first day, now more than sixty years ago.

Hillel Cohen’s Army of Shadows is written in the same honorable revisionist spirit. Cohen’s interest in the theme of Palestinian collaboration with Zionists in the days of the Mandate derives from his youthful experience of sitting in on lengthy, informal recitals about those years carried out in Arab villages neighboring his own home. He has added to those testimonies the many volumes of oral history and archival documentation that are to be found in the holdings of the Central Zionist Archives.

Cohen has assembled proof that general accounts of the Arab-Israeli conflict have taken far too monochromatic a view of Arab attitudes toward Zionism and the prospects of a Jewish state. Where the textbook account of Palestinian history during the British Mandate goes wrong is that it “generally focuses on the national movement led by the mufti of Jerusalem [Hajj Amin al-Husseini].” In fact, as we are told already on the front dust-jacket, “Many residents of the region cooperated with the Zionist: Bedouins, weapons dealers, pro-Zionist propagandists, informers, local leaders and many others.”

Like other secular historians, Cohen prefers to redefine religious motivation in political terms. As result, he is not very helpful to those who want to understand better the reality to which these “collaborators” were believed to be “traitors.” Arab Nationalism was clearly a driving ideology for many, from beginning to end; but co-existing with Arab nationalism (a variant on the phenomenon which stirred up masses everywhere in the world in the late 19th century), and ultimately incompatible with it, was Muslim loyalty to the umma—the community of Islam. The Grand Mufti and the Arab High committee fought under the banner of “the Holy national jihad movement.”

What is clear is that Palestinian nationalism was not the magnet. Cohen would clearly not endorse PLO propaganda and PA textbooks that speak of the “Palestinian nation” that has populated the Land since the time of Christ (or, in some texts, since the time of the Canaanites). Cohen suggests that “the conduct of Palestinian society might lead to the conclusion that, during the period under discussion [1917-1948], Palestinian society’s national spirit was not sufficient to the task at hand … . The limited willingness to sacrifice their lives (or personal comfort) for the nation can be seen, not only in the low level of mobilization for the decisive war [1947-1948], but also in their activity and involvement in selling land to the Zionists.” If, as theorists tell us, “nationalism [requires] a shared tie to a homeland that constitutes a single territorial unit,” then, says Cohen, this tie “was not strong among Palestinian Arabs … . The tie to the land focused on personal holdings or on the lands of a village or region, but not on Palestine as a whole.”

There were always people who could see that the hope of driving the Jews into the sea was insane and who preferred to draw attention to the prospects for mutual benefit for Arabs and Jews in rational cooperation. By 1947, however, hatred triumphed over reason: as the newly minted Arab states closed ranks with the indigenous despisers of the Jews and rallied under the spell of what we today call militant Islam, voices of accommodation were all shouted down or were removed by generally-applauded violence from the land of the living.

In early pages we are told that “Israeli historiography has ignored [evidence for Arab collaboration] … because [these actions] called into question the Zionist claim that the Palestinians had fought with all their might to prevent the establishment of a Jewish state in part of Palestine after the UN resolution of 29 November 1947 … [and because] it served to justify Israel’s refusal to allow Palestinian war refugees to return to their homes.” My own impression is that Israeli historiography has not in fact ignored this theme, only understated it. At the same time, Cohen maintains that “even less attention [is] given to treason in the Palestinian historiography of 1948,” the motive here being the mirror image of Israel’s for underplaying this theme. The present custodians of the Palestinian narrative imagine that their cause requires a portrait of overwhelming popular support for a cause that suffered because of Israel’s crushing advantages, but which will yet rise up again and triumph.

As Benny Morris observes in 1948, “One day, when Palestinians face up to their past and produce serious historiography, they will probe these parameters of weakness and responsibility to the full.” In the meantime, alas, those in our own midst who have embraced the “Arab narrative” or the “Palestinian narrative” never seem interested in opening up the archives out of which that narrative could be reviewed and re-written as Israeli historiography has been. The enthusiasm of many of our own intellectuals for the bad news about Israel’s past and present is so unquenchable precisely because there is at the moment no possibility of similar bad news emerging from the walled-up intellectual world on the other side.

Having spent half a lifetime as the official biographer of Winston Churchill, turning out six massive volumes of narrative biography and editing the massive corpus of companion volumes, Martin Gilbert took virtual ownership of academic scholarship on Churchill’s life and work. Subsequently, Gilbert produced three equally huge books narrating a history of the 20th century and several other weighty volumes which, taken together, offer a full-gauged history of the Jews in the 20th century, including the story of Zionism and the history of the State of Israel. Now, buzzing industriously back and forth between and among these massive depositories of fact and conclusion, Gilbert has produced a stand-alone volume on Churchill and the Jews, a definitive summary of everything that illustrates Churchill’s thoughts and feelings about the Jews, and that went into making him a champion of the Jewish people and of Zionism.

Gilbert shows that Churchill’s confidence in the Zionist experiment was based ultimately on his deep appreciation for the character and the historical accomplishments of the Jews. Not a devout Christian, he was always struggling to find poetical and mystical but non-theological language with which to express his conviction that the contribution of the Jews to the history of civilization was unique—a circ*mstance, he admitted, that points our thoughts towards the transcendent. While in Jerusalem in 1921, he said, “We owe to the Jews in the Christian revelation a system of ethics which, even if it were entirely separated from the supernatural, would be incomparably the most precious possession of mankind, worth in fact the fruits of all other wisdom and learning put together. On that system and by that faith there has been built out of the wreck of the Roman Empire the whole of our existing civilization.” Churchill never wavered from his conviction that however one defined or described the purpose that governs history (the purpose that had governed every step of his own life so that he could fulfill his own unique historical role), the establishment of a Jewish state had a conspicuous part in it.

During the 1920s, ’30s, and ’40s, when “pragmatic” politicians began wondering out loud whether the intent of the Balfour Declaration really had been to lay the groundwork for a Jewish State, Churchill settled the matter authoritatively: I was there, he said, in effect, and I can tell you that “Lloyd George and Balfour [and I] agreed … that they had always meant an eventual Jewish State.” In the face of massive anti-Semitism and pro-Arabism in the highest circles of the British government and military, Churchill promoted consistently the argument that the Middle East needed the presence of Jews as much as the Jews needed a state. Pointing to increases in Arab-speaking population that for most of this period kept pace with increases in Jewish population in Mandate Palestine, he insisted that “to Jewish enterprise, the Arab owes nearly everything he has.” Jewish presence in Palestine had brought “nothing but good gifts.” Before the several Royal Commissions which British governments set up during these decades to give breathing-room for arguments against fulfilling the Balfour pledge, Churchill said,

Why is there harsh injustice done [as all the Arab politicians were claiming already in the 1930s] if people come in and make a livelihood for more and make the desert into palm groves and orange groves? Why is it injustice because there is more work and more wealth for everybody? … The injustice is when those who live in the country leave it to be a desert for thousands of years … . I do not admit that the dog in the manger has the final right to the manger, even though he may have lain there for a very long time.

Nonetheless, Martin Gilbert did not write this book for the purpose of defending Zionism and the world’s eventual implementation of the Balfour Declaration. He has done that elsewhere. His purpose here is to lay out for fellow historians of the present and the future the documentation that they will need to describe Churchill’s role.

Among countless anecdotes that Gilbert has brought to light is the one about the day in 1932 that Hitler skipped out of a meeting in Munich that was to be arranged by his English-speaking crony, Putzi Hanfstaengel, between himself and Churchill. Hitler, unaccustomed to exchanging ideas, simply did not want to confront the notoriously strong-minded English politician. Churchill was hoping to give him some advice: “Tell your boss [he said to Hanfstaengel] from me that anti-Semitism may be a good starter, but it is a bad sticker.”

Gilbert has brought to light much previously unreleased official documentation which he uses to clarify substantial matters that are glossed over or simply misrepresented in the general accounts, and indeed in many expert accounts. Readers of Gilbert’s previous books will recognize his characteristic single-minded approach to his task: head down, keep the document in view at all times, summarize it, and get on with the next. An alert reader will recognize, however, that to fully appreciate the significance of Gilbert’s narrative he needs more context than Gilbert takes time to give. What he needs, to be more precise, is Michael Makovsky’s Churchill’s Promised Land: Zionism and Statecraft. [1] Makovsky is less rigorously chronological, but he does look up regularly to reflect upon the story before him, which he bases, as all the scholars must do, upon Gilbert’s lifelong labors in the archives. Makovsky offers thoughtful review of Churchill’s intellectual commitments, his entire political philosophy, and his strategic thinking.

These two books need each other. From Makovsky’s study we learn that Churchill’s dedication to Zionism was more nuanced than Gilbert lets on. Determined to prove the solidity and durability of Churchill’s Zionism, Gilbert piles up all the weighty statements of support he can find, many of them discovered in Churchill’s personal correspondence, but the bulk of them in public statements. Makovsky, pausing to explore the many inconsistencies that occur in this weighty corpus, finds Churchill to be less constant in his devotion to Zionism than does Gilbert. Historians will understand that both sets of arguments are necessary for a full appreciation of this complex story.

Paul C. Merkley is the author of American Presidents, Religion and Israel (Praeger).

1. Michael Makovsky, Churchill’s Promised Land: Zionism and Statecraft (Yale Univ. Press, 2007). Reviewed in Books & Culture, November/December 2007, www.christianitytoday.com/bc/2007/novdec/13.27.html.

Copyright © 2009 by the author or Christianity Today/Books & Culture magazine.Click here for reprint information on Books & Culture.

Is Anybody There? is one of those unlikely friendship movies. It might even be described as a February-December romance—without the romance. Unapologetically heartfelt and sentimental, the character-driven study uses the relationship between two people—one of them nearing the end of his life and the other just beginning it—to ask some of life’s most probing questions, namely what happens to us after we die. But don’t go to the movie looking for answers. Perhaps the filmmakers understand that such conclusions are better reached in houses of worship or in individuals’ own hearts. Instead, Is Anybody There? has the sentience to know that it is but a small, unassuming comedy and adjusts its stature accordingly.

Clarence Parkinson (Michael Caine) is a grumpy old man. A traveling magician who goes by the moniker “The Amazing Clarence” and putters around the English countryside in a jalopy camper painted like a circus wagon, Clarence arrives at the Lark Hill retirement home and instantly wishes he could make himself disappear. Lark Hall is a tumbledown seaside house converted into a retirement home by its eternally harried owners (Anne-Marie Duff and David Morrissey). The house is full of eccentrics in various states of decrepitude, and Clarence, struggling to maintain his dignity and his mind in the face of merciless old age, clearly doesn’t think he belongs.

Ten-year-old Edward (Bill Milner) couldn’t agree more. The owners’ son, Edward is still bitter about his parents’ decision to turn their home into a boarding house for elderly strangers, and worse yet, being forced him to give up his room and live in what appears little more than a converted closet. Whether it was always an interest or something he picked up after recognizing that the home’s residents never left in anything other than ambulances or hearses, Edward has developed an unhealthy interest in spiritualism and the occult, intent on unlocking the mysteries of death. Desperate to find out what happens when people die, Edward sneaks into dying people’s rooms with a tape recorder in an attempt to capture any aural evidence of the soul’s departure or any other proof of an afterlife. Mopey and decidedly rebellious, the lonely Edward—an island of youth lost in a sea of old age—does not take kindly to the newest addition to the house and does everything in his power to make Clarence’s stay an uncomfortable one.

Of course the pair of displaced outsiders has much more in common with each other than either would like to admit, and despite the initial discontent, they are soon inseparable. Clarence teaches Edward magic tricks to impress the kids at school, where the boy is seen as something of a pariah. Wracked with guilt over a lifestyle of philandering that destroyed his marriage to his now-dead wife, whom he misses terribly, Clarence also teaches Edward hard life lessons. Clarence finds Edward’s attempts to communicate with the dead ridiculous, but this does not stop him, once alone in his room, from trying it himself so that he might apologize to his late wife and plead for her forgiveness. A latter scene gives him his chance, though not in the form his muddled brain first imagined.

As their relationship deepens, we realize that Clarence, who appeared “normal” if a tad scatterbrained when we first met him, is rapidly drifting into senility. The first sign that something is not quite right occurs at a magic show for school children that goes terribly awry, instantly devolving into a moment of absurdist black humor that, like a prairie dog on a vast grassland, continually pokes its head above ground at just the right moments.

The title Is Anybody There? is a philosophical musing. This is a film about mortality. Young Edward is obsessed with discovering where humans go when vacating this mortal coil. Or more particularly, do they hang around before leaving? And if they linger, why? Is Anybody There? is a ghost story without the ghosts. Heaven and hell, while an essential element of anyone’s paranormal research, get the short shrift in favor of questions a bit closer to terra firma.

Which is more important, how we live or how we die? What elements of our youth do we cling to as that “good night” looms ever larger on the horizon? What aspects of the past reorient themselves as we age, some taking on greater prominence than we ever thought possible, others dissipating as we would never have believed. What makes us who we are as we stare down our twilight years and lose the things that once defined us—our spouses, our health, our careers? How do we wrestle with the indignities of aging and the inevitability of death?

Is Anybody There? never really tries to answer any of these questions. There are no long speeches about the meaning of life, no pontificating monologues on what comes after. Perhaps this is the fault of the screenwriter, Peter Harness, whose screenplay is, to some degree, semiautobiographical. Perhaps it is the fault of director John Crowley. Or perhaps, like the very best films, Is Anybody There? sees its place as a conduit to postulate the questions and let the audience formulate its own answers. Is Anybody There? is not one of the very best films, but it is a good one.

If all this makes it sound as if the film is dark and depressing, rest assured, it is not. True, it aims to be a tearjerker, but it balances comedy and pathos, deftly delivering scenes of sweet sentiment and uproarious humor. The magic of Is Anybody There? is due, in no small part, to its leads, the always reliable Caine and relative newcomer and standout Milner, who was last seen in the delightful Son of Rambow.

Caine’s portrayal, with a rich acting legacy to draw upon, is the accumulation of a lifetime of experience. We do not need to imagine the 76-year-old scatterbrained codger as an impish rogue in his youth dazzling packed houses, women dripping from his arms, co*cktails flowing into the early morning hours, his marriage dissolving as a result, because we’ve seen it firsthand in Alfie, Sleuth and dozens of other films spanning a 53-year career. I was reminded of watching Peter O’Toole in Venus a few years back, a role similarly imbued with the inspiring weight of a beloved actor’s cinematic history. It is a weight that, while luminous, comes with its share of pain and disappointment. In short, all the ingredients to cast a fully formed human being.

Is Anybody There? features a supporting cast of delicious veteran actors like Peter Vaughan, Leslie Phillips and Rosemary Harris, playing Lark Hall’s dotty residents. While spending any amount of time with great actors is always worthwhile, these roles are little more than cameos. They are there to support the main action, not eclipse it. But one can’t help feeling that, to some degree at least, they were somewhat wasted here.

For all those who believe that emotion in a film instantly makes it sentimental claptrap, Is Anybody There? probably isn’t for you. But for the rest of us, this thoughtful, well-crafted, modest little film is a pleasing example of generational intersections and the wisdom that flows both directions.

Talk About It

Discussion starters

1. Mirroring Clarence’s regret over unfaithfulness, Edward’s father endangers his own marriage by trying to start an affair with the teenage housekeeper. Why was this subplot important? What did it add, especially in light of Clarence’s confession?
2. When we first meet Edward, the rebellious kid is anything but respectful to his parents and elders. How does his attitude change over the course of the film?
3. What does the Bible say about occultism, séances, and trying to communicate with the dead?
4. What do you believe about the afterlife and on what do you base your beliefs? What do the Scriptures say happen to believers when they die?

The Family Corner

For parents to consider

Is Anybody There? is rated PG-13 for language including sexual references, and some disturbing images. The sexual references come in the form of dirty jokes that one of the boarders tells, embarrassing Edward and all others in earshot. Some squeamish viewers may find the sight of a severed finger or the bruised after-effects of a minor car accident difficult to bear. The occultism in the film, including a séance, is never handled with satanic menace, but rather the probings of an inquisitive child who simply wants to connect to those he’s lost. Edward’s father contemplates adultery, even as Clarence recounts the agony such a decision has on both parties.

Photos © Copyright BBC Films

Copyright © 2009 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

What other Christian critics are saying:

1. Plugged In
2. Crosswalk
3. Catholic News Service
4. Past the Popcorn

I’ll be honest: I had concerns. I signed up to review Joe Wright’s third film, The Soloist, last summer. Then the film’s late-fall, Oscar-buzz release slot was bumped up into the fallow month of April to allow the studio to focus its award campaigning on other (better?) movies; in the movie biz, we call that a Bad Omen. And then came the trailer, itself loaded with so much sugary sweetness and saccharine sentimentality, the prospect of sitting through the full two-hour movie began to seem nauseating.

I needn’t—and shouldn’t—have worried. Wright—who previously directed a masterful adaptation of Pride and Prejudice and the bewitching Atonement—has arrived at the point where he can officially be moved out of the Promising Young Filmmakers camp and into the Great Filmmakers camp. Stated simply: The Soloist is a remarkable movie. And the move to April turns out to be a blessing; this is a small, intimate kind of movie that deserves to be cradled and cherished, not slathered in crass award-show buzz and industry politics.

And that sugar-sweet trailer? Well, you can’t blame me for being worried. The story seems like a catalyst for pure schmaltz. Robert Downey, Jr. stars as Steve Lopez, a columnist for the Los Angeles Times. Jamie Foxx is Nathaniel Ayers, a homeless, mentally challenged street musician and Julliard dropout. You can fill in the rest—or at least you might think you can: Yes, Steve meets Nathanial. Yes, he becomes quite taken with him, and begins writing columns about his unusual story. Yes, the humble shames the proud, and Lopez finds his life forever changed because of his encounters with Nathaniel.

But not so fast: This isn’t that kind of movie. You know, the kind where the central character has some sort of Condition, but, because of his sweet spirit and triumph over adversity, he reveals to those around him the error of their selfish, greedy ways, and their lives are turned topsy-turvy because of this one special guy. But this isn’t Forest Gump, and it sure isn’t Benjamin Button. This film is full of surprises, and chief among them is this: It has real weight, nuance, and complexity. While it might make you feel good, it’s not a Feel-Good Movie—it’s a movie with real heft.

And oh yeah: It’s true.

Steve Lopez is a real guy who wrote a real book about the real Nathaniel Ayers, and much of the film’s success comes from the adaptation by Susannah Grant, whose screenplay never loses sight of the fact that Nathaniel is a character—not a plot device—and that he isn’t to be defined by his Condition, but by his personality, his history, his values. He’s a regular guy who’s fallen on some tough times, and he’s just as capable of messing things up and acting like an idiot as anyone else. And that’s how Foxx plays him. It’s not a flashy, Oscar-bait performance, but a surprisingly understated one; he essentially mumbles his way through most of the movie, but it works.

Wright, on the other hand, is a director who’s already made a reputation out of colorful, fast-paced movies that are rich in humor and romance, high in energy and cinematic flair. The Soloist is his first movie that isn’t really a period piece, but it is no less transfixing; it’s a film borne from a love of words and color and sound, a celebration of the beauty created by the actors and the script, the camera and the music.

And it is rich in powerful, provocative themes. Yes, there is the theme of the humble shaming the proud, but the relationship between Steve and Nathaniel is much more complicated than that. It’s not only about what Nathaniel does for Steve, but also about what Steve does for Nathaniel; it’s a meditation on the power of friendship, but also a look at the nature of exploitation, the importance of choice, and the challenges of fidelity.

Grace is a big theme, too, and The Soloist examines it in surprisingly rich, often religious language. Wright, whose subtle use of imagery to tell his story is masterful throughout the movie, creates a striking contrast between some rather messy, “worldly” imagery and the heavenly presence of Nathaniel’s music, and the simple mercies that pass between two friends. Note also the language used when Steve and his editor and ex-wife (Catherine Keener) discuss the nature of grace, how Steve speaks of human weakness so bluntly and the sublime so elegantly.

There are also loaded images and words throughout the movie, developments in the primary relationships that you won’t see coming, some beautiful music, fearlessly candid shots of the homeless and the downtrodden in LA, and a really great Robert Downey in one of his best-ever roles. I don’t have enough space to write about the film’s many riches, nor do I think I could successfully unfold them all after only seeing it once. So I’ll leave it like this: The Soloist is a knockout. It treads some familiar terrain, but it gets it right where other, higher-profile films have come up short. It won’t win a ton of awards, but it will win a place of fondness and esteem in the hearts of those fortunate enough to see it—and that’s way better.

Talk About It

Discussion starters

1. Do you think Steve and Nathaniel benefit equally from their friendship? Is it a mutual thing, or is one character exploiting the other?
2. Do Steve and Nathaniel undergo any kind of change throughout the movie? If so, how are they changed?
3. What view does the film seem to take toward divine grace? How do you think it’s defined here?
4. What attitude does the movie take toward the atheistic character it shows? What about Graham Clayton, who is a Christian? Does the movie treat one more favorably than the other?

The Family Corner

For parents to consider

The Soloist is rated PG-13 for thematic elements, some drug use, and language. For the most part, the rating comes simply from the film’s examination of some rather unpleasant issues, such as homelessness and mental illness. There is very little foul language, save for two or three uses of the Lord’s name in vain, as well as one scene where a couple of vulgar words are used to underscore the seriousness of the situation the characters are in.

Photos © Copyright DreamWorks

Copyright © 2009 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

What other Christian critics are saying:

1. Plugged In
2. Crosswalk
3. Catholic News Service
4. Past the Popcorn

Last year our partner publication ChristianBibleStudies.com conducted a simple online poll, asking readers, “Have you ever struggled with an addiction?” When the numbers were reported, everyone was surprised. Over half of the respondents said they are currently battling or had previously struggled with an addiction.

We wondered if the response would be different among Leadership readers. We posted the same question on LeadershipJournal.net and Out of Ur. Hundreds of church leaders responded, and once again the outcome was startling. More than 50 percent acknowledged having a destructive vice they could not shake.

Although our online poll was not a scientific survey, it is consistent with what other studies have found. Our culture, including the Christian subculture, is hooked. Alcohol, p*rnography, tobacco, drugs (prescription and illegal), gambling, gaming, sex, media. The list of addictive behaviors has never been longer, and they have never been easier to find.

For our interview with Craig Gross, Brandon O’Brien and I traveled to Las Vegas. It was my first visit to “Sin City,” and I found it to be aptly named. Walking along Las Vegas Boulevard after dark is like entering the belly of the beast. Your eyes are accosted by electric sex in every direction—jumbotrons with nearly nude showgirls, billboard trucks advertising “Girls Direct to Your Room,” and dozens of neon-shirted men offering free rides to a nearby strip club. Directing your eyes down at the pavement offers no respite. The sidewalks are littered with thousands of cards featuring images of topless women and 800 numbers.

They say that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. But that’s no longer true. The vices once identified with Las Vegas are now accessible everywhere through the web. While walking along “the Strip,” I realized I was experiencing the Internet in a three dimensional form. Something as innocuous and kid-friendly as M&M World is across the street from Diablo’s, where a red-skinned girl with thigh-high leather boots offers you “a wicked good time.”

The advent of the Internet, and the proliferation of vices in our culture, means our posture as churches needs to adapt. Bret Johnson, a pastor in Las Vegas, says every church leader “needs to approach ministry as if they live in Las Vegas, San Francisco, West Hollywood, or Amsterdam. Every city is now sin city.”

Rather than assuming the individuals and families entering our churches are relatively healthy and functional, the assumption should be the opposite. Most of us are hooked on something. Most of us are fighting a secret battle. And that applies to those behind the pulpit as well.

This issue of Leadership makes us all a bit uncomfortable, but it also will challenge your assumptions and give you hope. Transformation and growth are not only possible in a culture of addictions and vices, but absolutely essential.

Copyright © 2009 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Editor’s note:Dad: This column contains valuable advice specifically for you.Moms: Print this column and place it where he’s sure to see it.Ministry leaders: Distribute this to dads and you’ll accomplish serious “family ministry.”

A critical day approaches. One that requires deliberate effort to get right. Yes, a day that should cause mom to say, “Well done.” (Sorry, but I just can’t get myself to write “good and faithful servant.”)

And, unfortunately, a day that—as a dad—I often got wrong. Nothing disastrous, but nothing successful, either. Mom deserves better.

So I’ll start with an urgent plea: Dads, get Mother’s Day right this year! It’s up to you to make it happen, and the secrets to success that other, wiser dads taught me might surprise you—so keep reading.

Before I share the secrets, though, let me explain why this column is worth your time and attention.

First, I implore you to ignore any comments from your children’s mother that nobody needs to make a big deal about Mother’s Day. It’s a set up to test your commitment to her well-being. Doubt me, and you risk demise. If you dare, ask her friends if she really doesn’t want any attention. On second thought, don’t—word will get back to her. Too often, dads (me included) have unwittingly fallen asleep at the wheel instead of steering the family toward celebrating mom, and discovered afterwards that “nobody needs to” means “you better.”

Second, believe that mom deserves your best effort. Romans 13:7 tells us to pay honor to whom honor is due. If you do this well already, then keep up the great work. If you don’t (maybe someone printed this column for you), then Mother’s Day is your big opportunity.

So let’s get to work. The secrets to success: effort and time. Don’t chuckle at their apparent simplicity; again, keep reading.

Make sure your kids make real effort to celebrate mom. A card that you purchased and they sign falls short. Way short. In fact, a card qualifies as a “no big deal” gesture.

Instead, arrange for your kids to take extraordinary (for them) action, regardless of age. Breakfast in bed? It might sound corny, but it’s good start. Then have the kids make their beds without a prompt from mom. Or make their own breakfast—and clear the dishes. As the age of your child increases, so should the effort. Make a funny short video, send multiple “I love you because…” texts, wash her car, clean the house, do your own laundry, whatever shows significant effort. I know a family where the kids work together to prepare a special Mother’s Day dinner. That same family has a mom who loves and remembers her children’s efforts much more than their cooking.

The logic here: mom puts in enormous effort all year, so she’ll appreciate a child’s effort towards her. Sure, gifts are nice. But who really put the effort in? Dad, of course. You know it, the kids know it, and mom knows it too. All you need to do is chat with your children ahead of time, agree on a plan, and then make them stick to living out the plan.

We’ve covered “effort.” Now let’s focus on “time.” This one is all you, my friend.

Want to make the day truly memorable? Take the children away and give her the gift of time. While mom loves the kids, she really does want you to take them off her hands and out of her arms for a while so she can relax. I asked a local expert—my wife—for her advice to dads about the perfect, sure-to-win Mother’s Day gift, and she said, “Tell her she has the afternoon to do whatever she wants away from the house. Send her away with a coffee shop gift card. Or maybe you take the children and leave, so she can enjoy a nap, a long bath, or a good book.”

(Don’t have kids at home anymore? Consider an afternoon where you adopt the children of a single mom in your church or neighborhood for a couple hours.)

Brian, a father of three, figured out this time concept years ago. On Mother’s Day, he insists that his wife sit in the sanctuary while he checks the kids in to the children’s ministry. After church, he checks out all three while his wife chats in the church lobby. While Brian runs around, she smiles.

Dads, there’s a golden nugget here for you to consider on a weekly basis. Whenever you take the kids at any point throughout the year, something special happens. First, though, understand what “take” looks like. If you have an infant, come home from work and take care of that baby the whole evening, change diapers every chance you have, and handle bath duty. When out in public, you carry the baby, load and unload the car seat, and—for goodness sake—push the stroller yourself. For toddlers and pre-schoolers, play with them until they’re exhausted and read to them until they fall asleep. Bring your child of any age on errands; include him or her on projects around the house. Teach your son or daughter everything you can every chance you have.

The special something that happens is this: Your wife will be crazy in love with you when she can honestly say, “He’s a great dad. He’s really involved with the kids.” You can be an absolute bozo in other areas of life; get this one right, though, and she’ll love you tons. I’m not clowning around.

Funny, my wife’s nurture and care for the kids doesn’t spark anything in me. But me actively care for our kids? Wow, I can’t buy enough flowers, take her to enough shows or restaurants, or lose enough weight to match how much she digs me for being an involved dad.

You don’t have to simply take my word for it, ask your wife. Okay, I can understand that you might hesitate on that one. So to help you hear the female side once again, I asked my wife to share her thoughts. After reading this entire column, she told me to tell you: “He’s right, guys. Although it would be nice for him to lose a pound or two.”

Okay, she sent me a zinger on that last one. But she smiled.

Take her word for it; this advice will work. And when you’re running around with the kids, your wife won’t even notice those extra pounds.

After all, Mom deserves your best effort.

Happy Mother’s Day!

…outdo one another in showing honor.Romans 12:10b

David Staal, senior editor of Today’s Children’s Ministry, serves as the president of Kids Hope USA, a national non-profit organization that partners local churches with elementary schools to provide mentors for at-risk students. Prior to this assignment, David led Promiseland, the children’s ministry at Willow Creek Community Church in Barrington, Illinois. David is the author of Words Kids Need to Hear (2008) and lives in Grand Haven, MI, with his wife Becky, son Scott, and daughter Erin.

©2009, David Staal

Should I stay or should I go? At some point, every ministry leader asks the question, sometimes at weekly intervals. The answer isn’t always clear. But whether you’re asking it because of the Monday-morning blahs, the post-conference buzz, or the deacon-meeting blues, here are five reasons not to leave your current situation.

1. Conflict.

Whether it’s criticism, opposition, or differences in philosophy or personality, as a leader you can expect conflict. It’s inevitable wherever two or more sinners are gathered, even in Christ’s name. Leaving because of conflict often demonstrates the schoolyard value, “If you don’t play the game my way, I’m taking my ball and going home.” But you win some battles just by surviving them. Live to fight another day.

2. Slow progress.

Many of us in ministry have been conditioned to believe that more and faster are better. We want maximum impact with minimum resistance. Time is short, we say; the Kingdom is coming. But sometimes the King wants us to slow down and listen. Stuckness may frustrate your grand ministry plans, but it may also be the best thing for your spiritual growth.

3. Frustrations with leadership.

The thought, “If I were in charge, I’d do things differently” is not necessarily a call from God to leave your current situation. You may be right, and your church may be filled with horrible leaders. Perhaps that means you’re the good leader they need to help them reach their full potential.

4. Uncertainty or transition.

Some leaders bolt as soon as they feel their organization is in crisis. Whether your church is looking for a new senior pastor, working through a change in philosophy, or facing a budget crunch, sometimes the best move may be to stay put, and to help your community weather the transition.

5. The lure of greener pastures.

A fellow leader once heard me questioning whether I should stay in a particular position. He asked, “Did God call you here?” I answered affirmatively, but his next question was the kicker: “Did God call you away?” I had been so focused on where I felt I wanted to go, I hadn’t asked whether God had released me from my current assignment. The minute you look longingly at the fescue on the other side of the fence, you diminish your effectiveness in your current setting–the one God has called you to.