A Hail Mary for Hollywood

In the Hollywood culture wars, Barbara Nicolosi is an army of one, a former nun turned screenwriter who constantly urges angry believers to love the artists who so frequently mock them.

"How many of you have complained – or been enraged even – in the last month by something you have seen on television or in a movie theater?", she asked a recent audience in Los Angeles.

Hundreds of hands went up.

Nicolosi gently pounced: "Now, how many of you, when you saw that something on the screen that offended you, paused and said a prayer for the filmmakers or producers behind that production?"

Two or three hands were raised – slowly.

This is part of the problem, she said. The entertainment industry needs diversity. It needs new talent, viewpoints, passion and stories. But a creative sea change will not occur until churches grasp Hollywood's importance in American and global culture and – yes – even begin praying about it.

Most of the time, Nicolosi speaks to flocks of Evangelicals on behalf of a national educational project she leads called Act One: Writing for Hollywood. But on this day she was facing members of Legatus, a network of Catholic CEOs and philanthropists.

This allowed Nicolosi to do something she said she had long wanted to do, but lacked the right forum. Bowing her head, she asked the Catholics gathered before her to focus on the Hollywood community and then join her as she said: "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. ..."

Nicolosi plays a unique role, but she is not alone. She is part of a growing nondenominational effort to convince schools and ministries to get serious about creating real entertainment for real audiences, instead of cranking out Christian products that preach to the choir. Her passion for this cause began while working at Paulist Productions with the late Father Ellwood "Bud" Kieser, who was best known for making the movie "Romero" and years of "Insight" television programs.

Someone had to read the large stacks of scripts offered by Christians convinced that God had inspired their work. That sad person was Nicolosi. All but a few of these efforts, she said, dryly, were "badly written, banal, on the nose, pedantic schlock."

For some reason, most of Hollywood's critics think that because movies are easy to watch, they must be easy to make. Thus, tiny squads of true believers – with no experience and little training – keep attempting Mission Impossible.

"We think we're going to raise $5 million and make a movie about St. John Chrysostom and suddenly people are going to fall down on their knees all over the world and Jesus will float down from heaven on a cloud," said Nicolosi.

This isn't how Hollywood works. It is a town that is fiercely committed to excellence and its high-stakes projects require teamwork and compromise by almost everyone involved, she said. It is a town fueled by unbelievable amounts of pressure, power, paranoia and agonizing moral choices.

The way to prepare to enter this arena is to learn from professionals who already thrive there. This is why Act One's seminars are taught by a team of 75 Christians with credits in shows ranging from "MASH" to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," from "Braveheart" to the "X-Men." The screenwriting program (www.actoneprogram.com) is based at Hollywood Presbyterian Church, but will soon become independent and take on new topics, such as directing and producing.

Hollywood's critics need to get serious or they will continue to look foolish, said Nicolosi.

"There is a sense of outrage in many Christians that the industry should instinctively know how to make the movies that we want to see, and should make them," she said. "That is ridiculous. They are making the movies that THEY want to see, which is their right. ...Just suppose that the situation were reversed and we were the ones who had all of the cultural power in our hands. Would we feel obligated to make a few disgusting films for those groups of perverted folks out there to enjoy, just to be fair?

"Of course not. We have to stop begging and whining."

Those Anglican Hitlers in Africa

An Episcopal bishop could not find a more natural place to preach than on National Public Radio.

Long ago, witty commentators called the Episcopal Church the "Republican Party at prayer." Today, "NPR at prayer" would be more like it.

So Bishop Charles Bennison of Philadelphia picked a great place to air his views about current tensions between his church's hierarchy and Third World Anglicans, especially Africans. While it's true that African churches are much larger than the Episcopal Church, he told NPR that numbers are not everything when it comes to faith.

The bishop was quoted saying that "just because there are millions of conservative Christians who rally around issues like homosexuality, that doesn't mean they're right." Adolf Hitler, he noted, had many followers as well.

Bennison immediately tried to clarify what he was saying about conservative Episcopalians and their Third World allies.

"Please, I'm not saying the people in this country or my colleagues in the episcopate in Africa are necessarily gathering people around something as dastardly as Adolf Hitler," he told NPR. "I am trying to make the point, however, that growth and truth are two different things."

Outraged conservatives noted the use of "necessarily" in this clarification.

Either way, this was clearly the most candid quote by a First World Anglican since the Rt. Rev. Richard Holloway of Scotland said he felt "lynched" when bishops gathered in Canterbury overwhelmingly passed a 1998 resolution affirming ancient doctrines that all sex outside of marriage is sin. He blamed African and Asian bishops.

"They live in Islamic countries and, therefore, Islamify Christianity, making it more severe, Protestant and legalistic," he said.

This kind of angry language is especially shocking since Episcopal bishops and other mainline leaders have long proclaimed the need for racial harmony and dialogue with other cultures. But today the politics of sex, money, evangelism and power have created a painful dilemma for First World elites.

"The liberals basically spent the last 40 years saying, 'Let's hear the voice of the Third World,' " said historian Philip Jenkins of Pennsylvania State University, addressing a recent Anglican Mission in America conference. "And now they've heard it and they'd like the Third World to shut up for several decades."

Episcopal leaders are livid that African bishops are backing the Anglican Mission in America, an evangelical network that is building – without permission from local bishops – scores of new U.S. parishes and providing a haven for disenfranchised traditionalists. This network has even begun consecrating its own bishops.

Meanwhile, African and Asian bishops are shocked that their brothers and sisters in America are poised to approve formal rites to bless homosexual unions, a step that could take place next summer at the church's General Convention in Minneapolis.

While these events grab the headlines, Jenkins believes this split is rooted in an emerging global reality – the explosive growth of Christianity in the Southern hemisphere and the decline of more liberal Christian churches in the North.

A few stunning numbers show the big picture, argues Jenkins, in his book "The Next Christendom."

By 2050, there will be 3 billion Christians in the world and only one in five will be a "non-Latino white." In 1900 there were 10 million Christians in Africa and, today, there are 360 million – nearly 50 percent of the continent. There are between 40 and 50 million Anglicans in Africa.

There are 25 million Anglicans in England, but 800,000 frequent the pews. The Episcopal Church claims 2 million members.

In a few decades, said Jenkins, the heart of Christendom will be Africa, not Europe or North America. So it is understandable if leaders in these lands are experiencing shock and denial. They are losing control.

"If Christianity is going to be centered in Africa," he said, "what that means is that in 50 or 100 years Christianity will be defined according to its relationship with that culture. If might be that Americans will point to it and say, 'But that's not the Christianity that we know. That's not what we are used to. It's not what it's meant to be.' "

Christians in Europe and North America may want to cry out, "It's OUR Christianity," he said. "But it isn't anymore. You lost it."

The Gospel According to the Gospel According to books

As author of "The Gospel According to The Simpsons," Mark Pinsky is well aware that there are no sacred cows in Springfield.

So sooner or later he expects to see Lisa Simpson walk into the family room reading a book that claims to have found theological gems in some ridiculous animated series. The book will be called "The Gospel According to Itchy and Scratchy" or maybe "Smirk On: The Spiritual Journey of Krusty the Clown."

Homer will, of course, mock her mercilessly.

Pinsky's 15 seconds of cartoon immortality could even come this weekend, when the series hits its 300th episode. "The Simpsons" has been renewed through 2005, making it the longest-running U.S. sitcom ever.

"I expect to get laughed at someday and deservedly so," said Pinsky, the veteran religion writer for the Orlando Sentinel. "Anything that's worth mocking is going to get mocked on 'The Simpsons.' They don't miss much."

If that's the case, the scribes behind Homer, Marge, Bart and the gang are sure to have noticed that Pinsky is not alone. All kinds of scholars, theologians and preachers are suddenly sojourning in the once forbidden world of popular culture – probing everything from Bob Dylan to the Brady Bunch, from Middle Earth to Mayberry, from Tony Soprano to Harry Potter.

Pinsky's next book will be "The Gospel According to Disney: Cartoon Faith & Values." After all, Orlando is Orlando.

"On one level, all of this is simply more evidence – as if more was required – of the evaporating attention span of modern Americans," he said. "Should we be embarrassed that we have to turn to popular culture in order to find ways to talk about serious religious issues? Without a doubt, yes. But this is reality."

Anyone attempting to get a handle on the faith that is soaked into TV, movies, popular music and the rest of the mass-media universe should be prepared for surprises.

Consider the case of Homer's next-door neighbor, the uber-evangelical Ned Flanders. He is the subject of endless jokes and sight gags, as well as the occasional salute since he is clearly the town's most trustworthy and compassionate citizen.

"Everyone knows that Ned lives a Christian life. But even he doesn't talk about the heart of his Christian faith," noted Pinsky. "If you asked him how he knows that he's saved and going to heaven, he would say he saved by grace and faith in Jesus. That's how a Christian would answer. But nobody ever asks Ned that question."

Thus, "The Gospel According to The Simpsons" ultimately sounds a lot like the faith proclaimed in most mainstream media. It's the lowest-common-denominator civic faith that Pinsky summed up in five words: "Love God and do good." Another nice summary can be found in the familiar words of the Ten Commandments.

"It's ironic. You have what is clearly meant to be seen as a Christian family, going to a Christian church, constantly talking about Christian things, but the theological constant in 'The Simpsons' is Judaism," said Pinsky, who is Jewish. Anyone who pays close attention to the faith references that weave through about 70 percent of the show's episodes knows that "it teaches that people are saved by works, not by grace."

"Maybe salvation by grace isn't as funny as the Ten Commandments," he said.

This wave of "Gospel According to" books is rooted in two trends. Some evangelicals are digging into popular culture because they are willing to take risks to reach new people. Meanwhile, the fading world of mainline religion is desperately trying to appeal to the young.

Everyone wants a new "starting point," said Pinsky. The key is to find "starting points" that have widespread appeal, trigger strong feelings and stand the test of time. Whether religious bureaucrats like it or not, television shows, movies and songs are where Americans invest much of their time, money and emotions.

"Popular culture, if used properly, can be a kind of wedge into the consciousness of ordinary people," said Pinsky. "All a good pastor or a youth leader or a Sunday school teacher needs is a common set of images, a language that everybody understands and stories that they already care about.

"It's up to clergy to take it from there."

Edgy Orthodoxy 4 Seekers

One of the Rev. Dwight Moody's favorite perks as dean of the Georgetown College chapel is that he is free to spend most Sundays exploring other churches in Lexington, Ky.

That's how the Baptist preacher ended up in St. Andrew Antiochian Orthodox Church in a cloud of incense, trying to figure out what the worshippers were chanting, why they rarely sat down and when the 9 o'clock service was going to end so that the 10 o'clock service could begin.

Everything was a mystery.

"When the main service ended they just kept going and had two more. ...I couldn't figure out what was going on," said Moody. "It was the most in-your-face, retrograde old stuff you could imagine. What fascinated me was that this was the TOTAL antithesis of everything that is happening in the contemporary church."

But he looked around and realized he wasn't the only visitor in the multi-ethnic crowd. Afterwards, a cluster of ex-Methodists helped him get oriented. Moody had toured Orthodox churches in Jerusalem and elsewhere, but had never actually attended a service.

It was while he was driving home that he had a crazy idea.

During his Sunday adventures, Moody has seen his share of megachurches offering "seeker-friendly services" for media-soaked Americans. These are the ones with shiny auditoriums that seat 5,000 or so people, complete with rock-concert quality sound and lights. Many have been shaped by the work of consulting firms that specialize in church design and marketing.

Moody thought to himself: How would a church-growth professional critique the smells, bells and sacraments he had just witnessed?

Before long, he had written a satirical "Survival Guide" for an imaginary "St. Pachomius Byzantine Orthodox Church."

The church's name, for example, was simply not acceptable today.

Moody's imaginary consultant was blunt: "Nobody – and I mean NOBODY – understands any part of your name. (I actually commissioned a survey.) Most assumed you were Jewish, others thought of a travel agency and one was sure 'Byzantine' was a link to al-Qaeda.

"My recommendation: Be bold! Embrace the third millennium! Take a new name, one derived from the old but in a clever sort of way. Our people suggest you utilize the word BOX: how about 'p-BOX'? Edgy, isn't it, but evocative and mysterious, as well. Remember how United States Steel Corporation became USXX? Brilliant: strong but subtle, distinctive and vague."

The sanctuary would need a makeover, starting with the exit of all those "painted panels of old people." Besides, the icons were taking up space that would be needed for large video screens for movie clips and pop-rock hymnody. The firm suggested replacing the incense with "some very nice potpourri planters in a selection of scents: Miracle Moonlight, Oceans of Peace and Farm Fresh Faith."

The a cappella quartet of overweight male chanters would have to go, as well.

"Modern, younger people – those you must seek to appease, I mean, attract – are drawn toward drum sets and speakers," he added. "Make them very visible, even if you actually utilize sound tracks (sample enclosed)."

And Holy Communion? Adding a Starbucks would be a better idea. If the church insisted on serving bread and wine at the altar, "research indicates that videos shown during the lag time are well received."

The article was published in several Kentucky newspapers and then in the Christian Century, a mainline weekly. Moody was relieved to learn that Orthodox readers had gotten the joke and were rolling in the aisles. Well, some were rolling in the aisles. Many Orthodox Christians would not have aisles in which to roll, since their sanctuaries are traditionally built without the modern amenities called pews.

Then members of other churches began to respond. Moody hit a nerve with his backhanded tribute to a flock that was clinging to 2000 years worth of roots.

"You see, I was not making fun of the Orthodox," he said. "I was making fun of the whole contemporary church scene. ... There are people in all kinds of traditional churches who are being told, 'If you don't change, you're going to die. If you don't buy into the latest fads, you're history.' Ministers are under incredible pressure to strip away anything that's connected to the past. Well, some people have had enough."