Why Every Christian who likes "Breaking Bad" Should Watch "Deadwood"

I don't think David Milch will agree with me on this point, but I think his magisterial series is nothing but pure Pauline perfection -- alliteration be damned. Having sat through the three season series at least twice, I am convinced that, while Breaking Bad is indeed strong(ish), Deadwood is the show that Christians should be discussing.

Similar to Breaking Bad, Deadwood is also a western by genre. Of course, that is where the similarities begin, but they then diverge when you consider that Deadwood takes place a hundred or so years ago, and Breaking Bad happened yesterday.

Points of correspondence include antiheroes as lead characters, especially with Al Swearengen. C'mon folks. If you appreciate naughty language wielded with the deft touch of a sledge hammer, Deadwood triumphs over everything. HBO has a leg up on AMC, as HBO can pretty much show you every single inch of someone's body, whereas Breaking Bad only lets you see the goop that remains thanks to certain chemicals.

On a slightly more serious note, Breaking Bad's characters are driven to make choices, most of them out of their control. Of course, I'm only four seasons through BB, so bear with me on this. Deadwood

amplifies this by creating a world where choice matters some, but they are compatible with everyday life. Nothing is done in a vacuum. Swearengen accepts his current situation and lives like a king on top of his scrap heap. Walter White always feels like things are far beyond anything he can ever imagine; Swearengen can always imagine the worst side of sin, especially when he's knuckle deep in it.

With antiheroes comes moral ambiguity. White and Pinkman are no strangers to the necessary and oft unnecessary aspects of their line of work, although both White and Pinkman live in a universe that could afford them differing professions. Swearengen and Bullock are two sides of the same ambiguous coin: criminal and sheriff. They are born in a time period where chance has placed them a foot from good and six steps from evil. In Deadwood, there is little room for stepping over a line most people think doesn't exist.

Inside the realm of ambiguity comes economics and policy. While Breaking Bad has elements of this, Deadwood showcases events on a larger scale: money runs this town and if this town loses money (or if the wrong people get more money) then the town burns to the ground. Thus the corporate aspect is more alive and colorful.

This next point will assist Breaking Bad fans. The pacing is similar. Both shows takes their sweet damn time in getting anywhere interesting, but when they do, hold onto your nickers.

In terms of sin, Deadwood and Breaking Bad are spooning bedfellows. Neither of them are interested in pulling punches in the name of your sanity and sensitive stomach. Both treat the human body in the same manner; a collection of flesh and blood that bleeds and breaks. Both show the mistreatment and subordination of women as a means to satisfy men, though Deadwood has a more physical aspect to the abuse. To both shows, sin is treated as an unstoppable infection that rots away everything until it can no longer use you to sustain itself.

Then it turns on itself, and subsequently, to you.

Among other reasons, that is why Breaking Bad fans should watch Deadwood. The points of correspondence are highly similar, but the thematic out-workings of each show are unique and powerful. Hints of spirituality and redemption peak through the grime, but only enough to showcase the oft futility of a life of rebellion and sadness and death.

Happy New Year.

:)

--Nick

Keith DeRose, "Universalism, Hope & The Hitler Types"

Keith has given us another interesting post. I quite liked it.

Enjoy.

"Lord," Ananias answered, "I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your saints in Jerusalem..."

I'm taking the phrase "the Hitler types" from a post by Richard Mouw (my former teacher at Calvin College: as if there weren't enough Calvin connections in this series!). You may want to read Mouw's whole post, but to set the context for the bit about Hitler, Mouw has stated clearly that he is not a universalist, and in explaining his position, he seems to have indicated that he agrees with Rob Bell that people who choose hell will get it, when he writes:

And I certainly do believe that some folks choose that hell. The Hitler types. The man who kidnaps young girls and sells them into sexual slavery. They are well on their way to hell, to becoming inhuman monsters. To be sure, as the hymn rightly reminds us: "The vilest offender who truly believes/ that moment from Jesus a pardon receives." But for those who persist in their wicked ways, eternal separation is the natural outcome of all the choices they have made along the way.

And many have (especially recently) expressed finding it especially difficult to believe that the likes of Hitler (or Tony Soprano, in the case of an odd opinion piece in the NYTimes by Russ Douthat!) might make it to heaven. Why? Well, the most natural explanation for the special problem here would be that these "Hitler types" are especially bad. Picking up on that, together with Mouw's later-expressed openness to hope that people might be able to accept Christ after death, one colorful comment to Mouw's post reads:

But then, you do affirm hell to be a real place, sir. Full of those "Hitler types" and pedophiles. As for the rest of us gossips, slanderers, and adulterers of the heart, things are looking up. Turns out, God is a God of multiple chances. In this life, and the next.

I don't think Mouw's special problem with Hitler types going to heaven is directly that they are just too bad to make it in. Mouw does after all immediately go on to indicate his agreement with the hymn that even the "vilest offenders" can be pardoned, so if there are chances after death (which I don't read Mouw as necessarily endorsing, but as at least hoping for and not ruling out), it would seem possible that even the vilest offenders might have a chance. My guess is that Mouw's thinking is that the "Hitler types" are especially unlikely to turn to Jesus, even if they do get the chance to do so after death: They are very solidly in the "choosing hell" column now, and there's little reason to think they won't continue to be so.

And so, certain individuals are thought to be especially problematic for universalism. The main reason for thinking they don't wipe out hope (or so it seems to me) is that we know already from this life that even the most dramatic turnarounds are possible - and we get a pretty good example of such a turnaround in Acts in the case of Saul/Paul, who seems to have been a bit of a "Hitler type"--the "chief of sinners" to use his own (translated) way of expressing that he was "the vilest offender." (It is perhaps no coincidence that the best scriptural grounds for thinking that Christ's act of righteousness actually might lead to acquittal and life for all people are from the writings of one who had been something of a Hitler type himself before being redeemed.) My response in my on-line defense of universalism: "We know that some in this life have been only been moving further and further away from accepting Christ. And some people can be very obstinate. And some have become incredibly evil in this life. But, on the other hand, even in this short life, we all know of instances in which people having all three of these problems to a great degree who were brought around and were saved. So, again, I see no grounds for pessimism that an infinitely resourceful God, who is able to take as much time as He needs, will be able to win over everyone eventually." Of course, I am here supposing that God's ability to save people continues after their death, and that God does indeed desire that all people will be saved, but given those assumptions, which seem correct to me, I see little reason to give up hope here. (And without those assumptions, hopelessness seems to spread far beyond the Hitler types, so I'm seeing not much of a special problem in these cases.)

Victims and (perhaps even more so) the loved ones of victims of cruel and horrible evils may find the idea of the perpetrators of these evils ever escaping hell revolting. (And I imagine that some of the loved ones of some of the worst abuses of Saul's might have found it difficult to hope for his salvation.) This of course doesn't apply to all of the victims or loved ones of victims: some are astoundingly gracious about this. (A wonderful example of someone adopting a gracious point of view is given in this account of a 9/11 survivor.) Those of us who hold that or hope that even the perpetrators of the worst evils of this world may eventually be reconciled with their victims & with God should recognize that the resistance some people feel to such a view and to such a hope can be coming from a good place -- concern for the victims and for justice -- even as we think this resistance is somehow ultimately wrong. And while we may hold that joining God in hoping or desiring that all people will be saved is some kind of ideal, we should at the same time recognize that in our messy world, not all cases of adopting this hope would be changes for the better: For some who don't hold this hope, some of the nearest versions of themselves who do hold such a hope may do so because they are not as concerned for those who have suffered. We certainly don't want to encourage them to become such versions of themselves.

I strongly encourage those of an opposite point of view to take a similar attitude. If you for instance think that all who fail to accept Christ before death will suffer eternal conscious torment, and you think that this is made clear enough that in some good sense we should not even hope for a better fate for them, you may think that in some sense not hoping for, say, the wellbeing of a deceased loved one is some kind of ideal. (This way of thinking seems very alien to me, but that's not surprising: the differences in points of view here are very great.) But you can still recognize that those who hold such a hope may be coming from a very good place, and that in our messy world, not all cases of abandoning such hope would be changes for the better.

DeRose/ Prosblogion Blog

You can find Thomas Talbott commenting on purgatory and other things in the comments section. A valuable resource.

--Nick

Roger Olson, "Piper & Judgment round 2"

Roger Olson and John Piper, round two. Qualifications from Olson follow. 

"True, in this particular blog entry Piper does not explicitly say the tornadoes were God’s judgment on those towns. He does say, however, that the tornadoes were “God’s fingers.” In light of everything else he has written and said about calamaties and catastrophes, it is clear to me that he believes not only this tornado outbreak but every natural and man-made disaster (including the 9/11 terrorist attacks on New York and Washington, D.C.) are from God and not only in some attenuated sense in which most Christians would say they are from God by concurrence. (That is, by God’s permission and granted ability as the creator and governor of nature.)"

Olson/Piper II

Olson very often engages with folks who comment. If you have something to contribute, I'm fairly certain he'll answer. I might even post something myself. ;-)

--Nick

TheoPerspectives, "Orthodoxy & Gregory of Nyssa's Universalism"

From author James Goetz,

"I: INTRODUCTION
Gregory of Nyssa famously defended the doctrine of the Trinity in the Second Ecumenical Council in AD 381, and Gregory of Nyssa also defended the doctrine of universalism with the restoration of all things. Ironically, the Fifth Ecumenical Council in 553 condemned Origen's universalism according to the wishes of Emperor Flavius Justinian, who wanted to condemn all universalist teachings, but the Fifth Ecumenical Council also commended Gregory of Nyssa, calling him a holy Father who wrote about the true faith. And universalism has been heterodox in most of Western Christianity since then.1

On the other hand, universalism was an orthodox option during the Early Church and the first four Ecumenical Councils. For example, four of the six known theological schools during the Church's first five centuries taught universalism.2

Gregory of Nyssa had exemplary trinitarian credentials and taught that the unsaved dead suffer punishment in hell while he also taught that hell is purgatorial and temporary. He taught that hell is purgatorial in that the punishments in hell purge the sinful dispositions of the unsaved dead. And he taught that hell is temporary in that the unsaved dead suffer punishment in degree and duration according to their sinfulness. And this implies that the unsaved dead will eventually repent in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and get liberated from hell.3

Modern evangelical denominations typically forbid doctrines of purgatorial hell. For example, the Assemblies of God credentialed me a few years ago, but I had to resign my credentials or waive my right to teach my recently modified interpretations of future prophecies in Scripture.

This paper contends that Christian Scriptures teach that the unsaved dead can eventually repent in the name of Jesus to get saved out of hell and accepted into heaven. And this paper contends that such formerly orthodox teachings should be orthodox within evangelical churches. And here is a review of some relevant Scriptures and various opposition. . .

Gregory of Nyssa famously defended the doctrine of the Trinity in the Second Ecumenical Council in AD 381, and Gregory of Nyssa also defended the doctrine of universalism with the restoration of all things. Ironically, the Fifth Ecumenical Council in 553 condemned Origen's universalism according to the wishes of Emperor Flavius Justinian, who wanted to condemn all universalist teachings, but the Fifth Ecumenical Council also commended Gregory of Nyssa, calling him a holy Father who wrote about the true faith. And universalism has been heterodox in most of Western Christianity since then."

To continue, TheoPerspectives and Gregory of Nyssa


A very interesting post. Gave me much food for thought. 


--Nick

Roger Olson, "John Piper & Judgment"

This got me thinking. I remember Greg Boyd preaching a sermon back in the day addressing John Piper (though not by name, he made a point of critiquing the view not the man) and denouncing what I'm (cheekily) dubbing "Calvinistic Divine Command Theory." I'm certain there is a technical term, but I like my idea better.

Anyway. Olson is -- I think -- sharp but fair. He gets a little overly pointed at the end (something I'm not certain I endorse), but I'm curious to see if John Piper will indeed respond. This is not the first time John Piper has made comments of this nature. After this, I'm not certain I see much of a difference between Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson in regards to disasters/terrorist acts and calling upon the name of God as a salve to tragic wounds.

Hopefully, we'll become privy to the direct link Piper has to the Almighty, or Piper will admit he was wrong and apologize, or there is some third option I can't foresee. Either way, read the article.

To continue, Roger Olson.

--Nick

The Grey, a brief review

Spoilers referenced

A job at the end of the world. Stuck in the bleak arctic, Ottway (Liam Neeson) is a sniper hired by an oil crew to protect them against the worst nature has. With his dark past very present in his mind, he boards a company airplane home with an oil crew as uncivilized as the landscape. After a random storm, the plane crashes in a frozen hell of ravenous wolves and unforgiving conditions. With only wits and ebbing resources, Ottway realizes they are being stalked by a pack of wolves. And it becomes a race between species to out-fight the other as the cold blizzard brings most certain death.

And it is not just man against nature. It is man versus death.

As the opening voice over narrates the futility of a life devoid of meaning, Ottway is preparing to commit suicide. With his heart broken and his spirit in pieces, The Grey begins where most stories about redemption end. Neeson, with his gravelly voice and sunken eyes, is the last candidate I expected to find in this story, touted as “Taken” with wolves. As advertised, The Grey was touted as Liam Neeson kicking ass and making slippers out of the remains of wolf.

Instead, we get a soulful and complex figure haunted by the demons of the past, as well as the specter of death, and Neeson transcends his own acting action film persona to give us a character who is both fragile and strong. A man who bleeds and begs of the Divine to save him. The scene that involves Neeson literally screaming and cursing the Divine is both chilling in it's realism and horrifying when we realize that he might actually be right. The scene is so profound when one thinks about the personal background of Neeson, who lost his wife several years before.

When taken in that way, the scene that has now become inescapably haunting in my mind is all the more visceral and real. I wasn't certain it was Ottway who was screaming at the Divine, but Neeson. Though, I've heard that Neeson is a Roman Catholic, even the best of us find it crushing to even consider the hand of the Divine in the midst of unspeakable tragedy.

Indeed, death gets quite a bit of screen time, both in conversation and action, with the wolves manipulating the group, and the fights are sparse but vicious and brutal. But that is not the point of the story, and director Joe Carnahan (The A-Team) doesn’t dwell on the gore, only using it to point to the wider philosophical spectrum. The musical score is sparse, and allows the film to set it’s own pace, which allows for the silences to speak louder about the characters. There are scenes of graphic violence involving people's in a state of shock being ripped apart, but the images are often beautiful in their transcendent power. The violence is not the point.

Death, and how we deal with it, is the point. It is cold, calculating, and inescapable. Like God's judgment, there is nothing we can do to be free of it's curse. At least, for now.
 
I sat on my couch for three hours last night, pondering the philosophical concepts of The Grey. I didn’t remember the blood, the jump scenes, the scenery, the music or the acting; though all of that is outstanding. But, The Grey is not about the wolves, or even about Liam Neeson. It is first and foremost a story about God, and where He is when suffering bares it’s fangs. The film is not necessarily interested in answering the provocative questions it presents, nor should it, but it presents them in the midst of transcendent emotion and complex spirituality.

The ending is akin to The Sopranos, and it will divide audiences. I personally felt it ended on a pitch-perfect note, both ambiguous and gripping. It allows it’s themes to fully remain intact without succumbing to cliche, and frankly, it is refreshing to see a film end a film on it’s own terms, rather than on the expectations of it’s audience.

The twist that is revealed will not rock your world, but the climactic build up to it had tears in my eyes. It forces us to look beyond the present state of chaos and focus on what gives life meaning. And does that meaning involving more than just an instinct for survival?

Once more into the fray
Into the last good fight I'll ever know
Live and die on this day
Live and die on this day

Come for the wolves, stay for the rest. It will give you far more meaning for your dollar.

4.5 stars out of 5. 

For the original (shorter) review, check The Christian Manifesto.

--Nick

Glenn Peoples, "Are Theodicies Ad Hoc?"

Glenn Peoples posted this. I found it quite compelling in his response to Stephen Law. They had an interested debate on Unbelievable so go check that out.

Beretta Cast -- Are Theodicies Ad Hoc?

--Nick