In God on the Streets of Gotham, Paul Asay (long-time associate editor of Plugged In), takes a detailed look at the meaning and impact of the Dark Knight on the lives of those who come in contact with his story. The Batman series, especially the recent trilogy directed by Christopher Nolan, has been one of the most successful film franchises in cinema history. In God on the Streets of Gotham, Asay seeks to explain why the person and story of Batman are so popular in American culture and how the caped crusader continues to fascinate viewers around the world. Drawing upon both traditional Batman narratives (be they DC Comics or Adam West) as well as the modern Bale-Nolan series, Asay presents a wealth of discussion worthy material surrounding the meaning and symbolism of Batman for Christ in the modern context. Continue reading
At the risk of shocking some of my readers, I want to start this article with a confession: I was raised in a household that did not watch television. Or, at least, did not watch television that was anything other than the Olympics, Presidential speeches, or the occasional Chicago Cubs playoff collapse. Although the primary reason for our not watching television was because of scheduling (we simply were too busy with other things to make watching TV any sort of a priority), we would also occasionally hear about the dangers of watching TV, especially the immoral values that it promoted. Continue reading
In this chapter of The Sacred Canopy, Berger argues that human existence externalizes meaning, thereby creating continuously reconstituted social worlds by which other human beings are socialized and ordered. Berger further argues that religion has long been one of the most successful means of world-building, as religions imply meaning and order onto the totality of human existence. Here we examine an important facets of Berger’s argument, the importance of socialization among human beings within world-building and consider the implications of purposefully non-social forms of human activity for this thesis. Continue reading
You occasionally hear it from the talking heads or on the History Channel. Maybe you notice an article about it on your newsfeed. Or catch the random title while browsing Amazon or Barnes and Nobles. Pagan Christianity: What you do on Sundays is really from Ancient Egypt, Imperial Rome, or Royal Greece and certainly is not real Christian worship.
Maybe you listen for a few seconds, start to read that article, or read the back cover of that book. “Most of what present day Christians do in church each Sunday is rooted, not in the New Testament, but in pagan culture and rituals developed long after the death of the apostles.”  “How Mistakes and Changes Shaped the Bible We Read Today.”  Is walking down the aisle really derived from the Roman Imperial procession? Are Christian priests just pagan priests in disguise? Is there really any truth to these claims? Continue reading
A friend of mine recently commented that he sees too many references to C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien in the blogging world. As someone who tries to stay connected to the conversations of the interwebs, I can confirm that there are indeed a plethora of perspectives penned on these great 20th century authors. Indeed, hardly a week goes by without seeing an article evaluating what Lewis would have thought about this, or the implications of Tolkien’s writings for that. Even here at Conciliar Post there have been a number of recent posts concerning these literary giants (see here, here, here, and here, for example). Clearly there is no lack of contemporary admiration for Lewis and Tolkien (and the rest of the Inklings). This friend’s comment, however, got me thinking: What is it about Lewis and Tolkien that cause us to revisit their works again and again? Continue reading
How many times have you sat down after a good meal and thought about how good it tasted? Or how often after an enjoyable evening with friends do you sit back and think about the true meaning of your conversations? While most do not consider themselves philosophers reflecting upon the deeper mysteries of the universe, many people contemplatively enjoy live in less abstract ways. We go through our days enjoying the food, the beauty that we see around us, and the pleasant conversations, while at the same time failing to explicitly contemplate why we enjoy certain things in life. Why does a good meal seem to make the world better? Why is a sunrise so appealing to us? What is it about well written poetry that makes it so good?
C. S. Lewis offers us an example of how we may reflect upon our meaningful experiences in his essay “Meditation in a Toolshed,” where he discusses the difference between simply enjoying an experience and the deeper contemplation of said experience. Lewis once was standing in a dark toolshed and saw a sunbeam come through a crack above the door. He says that while looking at the beam, he was “seeing the beam, not seeing things by it” (Meditation, 212). This is similar to many of our everyday experiences. We see activities and enjoy them for what they are without looking deeper. This is not to say that we shouldn’t enjoy the pleasurable things in life, but we ought to examine our lives and experiences closely in order to capture more of the joy that they offer.
Lewis goes on to explain what he saw when instead of merely looking at the sunbeam, he looks through it, out into the world beyond the dark of the toolshed. He says, “Instantly the whole previous picture vanished. I saw no toolshed, and (above all) no beam. Instead I saw, framed in the irregular cranny at the top of the door, green leaves moving on the branches of a tree outside and beyond that, 90 odd million miles away, the sun” (Meditation, 212). There is a difference between simply looking at an object or experience, and using that experience to see something greater, a facet or characteristic of an experience that would is often lost on us when we do not examine closely the lives that we live. Continue reading