Walking in Joseph's sandals

Anyone who has looked at Christmas cards knows where to find Joseph in a typical manger scene.

Just look for the humble, gray-haired man standing near the edge of the heavenly glow that surrounds Mary and the Christ child. In ancient Nativity icons, St. Joseph the Betrothed usually appears huddled in the foreground while Satan, in disguise, tempts him to doubt and despair.

Joseph is a major character in this drama, yet he remains a mystery. While filming the movie called "The Nativity Story," actor Oscar Isaac visited the Vatican and studied a tapestry of the manger scene. He kept asking himself the question actors always ask when trying to play historical figures: "What was he thinking?"

"That's the thing," said Isaac, during press events before the film's Dec. 1 release. "Joseph didn't know what to expect. I was having trouble as an actor, saying, 'How can I play that I am going to have the Son of God? I don't know what that means. It doesn't make any sense.'

"Then I realized that this was exactly what Joseph was going through."

For decades, Mary has received lots of screen time in traditional Hollywood movies dealing with the life of Jesus. New Line Cinema's attempt to create a new biblical epic is unique in that Joseph receives as much attention as Mary. Joseph's trials, doubts and decisions drive the plot.

The problem is that biblical accounts offer little information about St. Joseph, other than his standing as a "just man" from the House of David who lived in Nazareth. He is an important figure in the Nativity narratives and he was alive when Jesus was 12 and the family visited Jerusalem. According to early church traditions, Joseph was a widower who already had children – who are mentioned in the New Testament as brothers and sisters of Jesus.

Joseph was older than Mary, but it's hard to know much more than that, said screenwriter Mike Rich.

"In the research that I did ... I quickly found that if you talked to 12 theologians about Joseph then you'll probably get 12 different stories," said Rich. "The age range that I was given in my research was everything from 25 to 90. ... I don't think there would have been a wrong decision, because of the disparity in all the viewpoints. So we just decided to go younger."

The 27-year-old Isaac, meanwhile, turned to a volume of history entitled "The Life and Times of Jesus Messiah" for clues into his character's background. Joseph is a Jewish carpenter betrothed to a girl who says an angel has told her she will give birth to the Son of God. What does that mean? Will people in Nazareth stone her? Will Mary die while giving birth? Will this be a normal child? Will legions of angels show up and begin an apocalyptic war with the Romans?

It's crucial to remember that an angel visited Mary, while Joseph had a dream reassuring him that she was telling the truth. It's safe to assume that most men – when asked to risk life, limb and reputation – would prefer to talk to an angel face to face, rather than rely on a mere dream, said Isaac.

"Just because God came to him in a dream didn't mean that he wasn't thinking, 'I hope that I didn't make that up. I hope that I heard God correctly,' " he said. "I think that he constantly, even up until the end, is grappling with his feelings."

The whole story changes if Joseph rebels, noted Isaac, who is Guatemalan by birth, but grew up in a multi-ethnic evangelical Protestant family in Miami. It's easy to assume that God would have found some other way. But someone had to take claim the responsibility of protecting Mary and helping raise Jesus.

Joseph is a pivotal figure, yet a humble saint who rarely receives much attention.

"There is this very interesting psychological character study here," noted Isaac. "How does a man share the woman he loves with God? That's what he has to do. He loves God with all of his heart and he loves this woman, selflessly. ... He can't just live in this little house that he's building in Nazareth. He has to, literally, share this woman. How do you wrap your mind around that as a man?"

Using the 'Passion Playbook'

The players in studio power offices call it the "Passion Playbook."

At least, that's what the Variety – holy writ in Hollywood – calls the slate of commandments that insiders are supposed to be following in order to reach the $612 million audience that backed "The Passion of the Christ." Or was it the $744 million audience that embraced "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe"?

Whether or not a savvy consultant has produced an actual "Passion Playbook" doesn't matter. Everyone knows that studio executives are becoming more interested in the "Christian market," even if admitting it still gives many of them sweaty palms.

The latest high-profile test case is "The Nativity Story," a reverent epic from New Line Cinema that premieres this Sunday (Nov. 26) at the Vatican.

"The success of the Passion ... made this film possible on a studio level. I definitely think that from a studio and a financier standpoint, you look at that and you go, 'Well the nativity story – at Christmas – could work for us,' " said producer Wyck Godfrey, whose past projects included standard studio projects like "I, Robot," "When a Stranger Calls" and "Alien vs. Predator."

Nevertheless, he added, "I don't think anyone knows anything when it comes to this stuff in terms of how to, exactly, get to this market."

Still, Godfrey said it made sense to take strategic steps to ensure that the "core audience" of believers heard about this movie and that what they heard was positive. It was crucial to follow the "Passion Playbook" even if its contents are not perfect – yet. And what are some of the guidelines?

* Seek the input of historians, theologians and clergy early and often and try, try, try to nail the details. Most of all, find out how to avoid making mistakes that will offend ecclesiastical shepherds whose opinions filter out – through print, radio and television – to their flocks. It's impossible to make everyone happy, but it helps to try.

* Make the story the star. In the case of the Passion, it helped that director Mel Gibson was an A-list superstar who – while already controversial in Hollywood – had made numerous films that were popular in middle America. Still, he did not cast familiar faces and, with his daring decision to use ancient languages and subtitles, put the focus on his images and the story itself.

"The Nativity Story" features a cast drawn from eight or nine different nations and the only familiar face is 16-year-old actress Keisha Castle-Hughes of New Zealand, previously nominated for an Academy Award for "Whale Rider."

"The stars of our movie are Mary and Joseph," said co-producer Marty Bowen. "You have to be careful when it comes to casting something like this, particularly with very iconic characters. If Tom Cruise is playing Joseph, that's probably going to take a lot of people out of the movie."

* Court the core Christian audience to create buzz that will reach pulpits and pews. Let test audiences in strategic Bible Belt markets see early versions of the film and listen to the feedback. Hire publicists who understand what sings in the parallel universe of Christian media and know how to produce promotional materials that work in church sanctuaries and Sunday school classrooms.

* It helps if the creative team includes Hollywood professionals who are sincerely motivated to reach the "faith-based audience." In this case, screenwriter Mike Rich is an articulate Christian known for writing "Finding Forrester" and "The Rookie." Godfrey and Bowen grew up in strong Christian homes before heading to Hollywood and both recently decided to make major changes – spiritual changes, even – in their lives and careers.

* Remember that religious consumers like quality entertainment, but prefer not to be offended when they grab their popcorn. When seeking studio support, noted Godfrey, he kept repeating this mantra: "Christians watch 'Lost.' " They also watch "Battlestar Galactica," Pixar movies, "Pirates of the Caribbean" and many other hit shows.

Some people in Hollywood hear the words "Christian audience," said Bowen, and they "immediately start thinking about micro-budgeted niche films that cater to some specific group within Christianity as a whole. But our argument to New Line was that 200 million Americans shouldn't be considered a niche."

NEXT WEEK: Walking in Joseph's sandals.

Trying to market the Mass?

It's the kind of devil's advocate question that Roman Catholic priests discuss when no one else is listening.

How short do you have to make a Mass to appeal to parishioners who don't want to get out of bed to go to Sunday Mass in the first place? Would more people attend if Mass was 40 minutes instead of 50?

"There are priests who can do a weekday Mass in about 22 minutes and the people know that father has left his car running out back and his golf clubs are in the trunk," said Father John A. Valencheck of the Diocese of Cleveland.

"Sunday Mass is supposed to be different. I have trouble getting it done – I hate those words 'getting it done' – in less than 50 or 55 minutes. I don't know how to do everything we're supposed to do in less than that. ? But all of this should lead us back to a crucial question: What are we doing at Mass in the first place?"

The people who really have to watch the clock are the priests and lay leaders in the giant suburban parishes that surround America's largest cities.

This is especially true in the Bible Belt, where the children of northern Catholics kneel next to increasing numbers of Hispanics and many Protestants who have converted to the ancient faith. Thus, the pews and parking lots are crowded, while a declining number of priests struggle to offer services that please the old and welcome the new.

But there's another reason that many American Catholics want to edit and tweak their ancient rites. They know that Protestant megachurches offer rock-concert-quality mass media, ample parking, free babysitting, health clubs and every conceivable form of special programs for people of all ages, but especially the young.

Valencheck's parish office recently received a postcard – addressed "Occupant" – from a megachurch promoting its free Starbucks coffee and Krispy Kreme Donuts.

It's hard for Catholics to compete in this marketplace, he noted, in an essay entitled "Mass Marketing Mass" in the Adoremus Bulletin. The ultimate temptation is for priests to embrace the "bedrock assumption that the Mass is a painful event" and that they need to make major changes in order to survive.

"One solution is to make the Mass pass as quickly as possible, apparently on the assumption that the people who are there do not want to be there, so the object is to get them in and out before they can register the full measure of their boredom," wrote Valencheck. "The focus of the Mass is now placed on those who do not want to be there."

Then there are Catholics who are determined to make the Mass more entertaining. This can lead to sappy pop music, pseudo-megachurch media and priests who offer chatty sermonettes while presiding over liturgies that have been truncated until almost all of the ancient mysteries and traditions are gone.

The problem, Valencheck noted, is that an "entertaining innovation can too quickly become grating and we are right back to the problem of being boring." And then there are efforts at popularization that veer close heresy, like the popular YouTube video of the Halloween costume Mass in a California parish that ended with the priest recessing out of the church – dressed as Barney the purple dinosaur.

It's crucial, said Valencheck, that priests continue to have faith that parishioners and visitors will respond to an "old school" Mass that is offered with dignity, grace and, yes, a sense of quality. The details of the rite must be beautiful, so that they point to the mysteries that are beneath the surface.

"There is a way to carry a chalice that says, 'This is just a cup and it really doesn't matter if you pay attention or not,' " he said. "Then there is a way to carry it that says, 'This is a chalice. Get down on your knees and meditate on that.' ...

"It's like when you tell someone that you love them. You can just say the words. But there's also a way to pause and look right in their eyes and tell them that you love them in a way that let's them know you really mean it. There's a way to give our words and our actions weight and gravitas. Priests have to remember that."

Blonde, female, Christian, late-night comedian

It's no surprise that Victoria Jackson watches "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," the latest slice-of-elite-life offering from Aaron "West Wing" Sorkin.

After all, one of the main characters in this drama set inside a late-night sketch comedy show – a fictional West Coast version of "Saturday Night Live" – is Harriet Hayes, a blonde, female, singing comedian who is a born-again Christian.

This got Jackson's attention real quick.

"I'm the only blonde, female, singing, born-again Christian comedian in the history of 'Saturday Night Live.' I'm pretty sure there's only one of me," said Jackson, in the high, child-like voice that is her trademark. After watching the pilot episode, she asked her husband, "What's going on? Was that me?" It was, she said, "Pretty strange. It hit close to home."

Jackson knows enough about the struggling NBC series to know that the pivotal romance between the Hayes character and the "East Coast liberal Jewish atheist" writer Matt Albie is based, in large part, on the real-life romance between Sorkin and the Tony Award-winning actress Kristin Chenoweth, an outspoken Christian.

"It's hard on a very private level," Chenoweth told the Toronto Star. "I once told Aaron, `Unless you accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior, then get the hell out,' and he laughed for two minutes. Then I see it on the show in a different way. ... I went on The 700 Club to promote an album of Christian songs I had recorded and, yes, Aaron and I argued about that. But it doesn't mean I want to watch that disagreement flung up on the screen for all America to see."

Chenoweth stressed that the character "is literally me and some of it is not me at all."

Jackson feels the same way. She has seen scenes that appear to have been based on events – on-stage and off – during her SNL seasons from 1986-92, when the "Tonight Show" veteran worked with Dana Carvey, Julia Sweeney, Dennis Miller, Nora Dunn, Mike Myers, Jan Hooks, David Spade and others. Take, for example, that "Studio 60" pilot that focused on a comedy sketch entitled "Crazy Christians."

That was the name Jackson assigned to a sketch she was asked to perform, leading her to plead for relief from executive director Lorne Michaels. He heard her out and assigned another actress to do the part. The sketch bombed in dress rehearsal and vanished.

"It was a legitimate sketch that was making fun of what they called extreme Christians," said Jackson. "You know, there are Christians out there that make life rather embarrassing for other Christians. ...

"Now I can make fun of people who have a Jesus toaster and Jesus salt and pepper shakers and Jesus napkin holders. That's fair. But this time they wanted me to kneel down in a comedy show and pretend to pray – to get a laugh. I just couldn't do it. I told Lorne that I thought I'd start crying or shaking. Prayer is real. I think prayer is talking to God."

Jackson said it's important that her colleagues worked with her and tried to respect her beliefs. Still, it was sometimes hard to do comedy when few – if any – of the writers truly understood her faith and, thus, her strengths as a comic.

"Studio 60" is doing a good job of showing this kind of tension, she said. It also helps that Harriet Hayes is not being portrayed as "one of those Christian clich

Hypocrites are us

Talk about bad timing.

On the day after former Congressman Mark Foley entered an alcohol rehab program, his beleaguered staff received a package. With reporters watching, they unpacked a framed copy of one of his most famous pieces of legislation – a bill requiring a crackdown on sexual predators, including those who exploit minors online.

And all the people said: "Hypocrite!"

"It's hard to talk about the Foley story without talking about hypocrisy," said journalist Jeremy Lott, referring to the congressman's spectacular fall after discovery of his explicit digital messages to teen-aged male Capitol pages. "I mean, Mark Foley's a hypocrite, the Republicans are hypocrites, the Democrats are hypocrites and lots of journalists are hypocrites, too. Right now, I can't think of anyone in the Foley affair who isn't being accused of being a hypocrite by somebody and lots of the anti-hypocrites are being hypocritical, too."

It helps to define your terms, which is what my former colleague at GetReligion.org does in his edgy book "In Defense of Hypocrisy." Lott starts with the American Heritage Dictionary, which, in its most recent edition, defines "hypocrisy" as the "professing of beliefs or virtues that one does not possess."

Meanwhile, the word "hypocrite" has a slightly different meaning when used in news reports about the sins of politicians, preachers and other community leaders. When journalists talk about "hypocrites" we are usually referring to people who publicly condemn an act that they practice in secret. The classic example is the minister who preaches family values while committing adultery with the church organist.

Then there is the common anti-hypocrite, which Lott defines as a person who, at every opportunity, loudly condemns the actions and beliefs of those whom he considers hypocrites. But here is the key. The true anti-hypocrite vents his rage on an entire class of people – usually moralists, clergy or religious believers – and then proudly uses his disgust as a way to rationalize his own behavior.

The Foley drama offers a spectacular cast of hypocrites.

* Foley gets the "hypocrite" verdict because of his highly public work on behalf of exploited children. The Republican congressman also stayed in the closet, thus helping conservatives and the dreaded Religious Right in their battles against gay rights.

* GOP leaders are being accused of hypocrisy by those who claim that they ignored Foley's indiscretions in order to retain the services of a charismatic legislator in hip South Florida, where it would be hard to elect an ordinary Republican.

* Republicans are calling Democrats hypocrites because they screamed about Foley's actions but have not, in the past, reacted as strongly to the questionable affairs of powerful Democrats. The classic case focused on the late Rep. Gerry Studds of Massachusetts, who remained in office after the revelation that he had a homosexual relationship with a teen-aged congressional page.

* Republicans are calling some journalists hypocrites because they received tips about Foley's actions, but sat on the story for months until they were able to pile fuel on this pre-election bonfire. Then there are the gay-rights activists who may or may not have used the media to yank Foley out of the closet in order to help Democrats take control of Congress.

Many of these people are practicing what Lott calls the "saint or shut up" strategy when it comes to talking about public morality. They argue that only squeaky-clean people – like Jimmy Carter, Mother Teresa, the Dalai Lama and the pope – have the right to make pronouncements about hot issues. Everyone else is supposed to keep quiet or they will be accused of hypocrisy.

The problem is that sin, and thus hypocrisy, is part of the human condition. Anyone who believes anything struggles to live up to those beliefs in the harsh light of day.

There are even times, argues Lott, when a little hypocrisy may do some good. Take, for example, the faithful who fail to notice that a bride is pregnant as she walks down the church aisle. Everyone knows, but pretends not to know, because the bride and groom are doing the right thing.

"It's a good thing when sinners continue to oppose sin, even if they are still struggling with sin in their own lives," he said. "Sometimes, hypocrisy is what allows sinful people to be decent while they try to do what's right."