The Jedi and the Messianic Hope

This post first appeared at the amazing Coffee With Kenobi.

This is my Christmas post.  Trust me for a bit on that.

Allow yourself to rise up.  Meditate on what it means, or the process by which, you can become greater than you have ever thought you could be.  Leave behind ideas of materialism, or even what pop culture offers as spiritualism.  Identify not with the crude matter, but give great psychological effort to becoming one with the Force, that the Force may become one with you.  If we can find clarity enough to look inside of our own souls we will find that there is a secret hope there, implanted by the Creator.  While the Jedi hoped for the Chosen One, we have a hope for the messianic.

The Hope of the Jedi was the Chosen One of the Prophecy.  Mace Windu did not speak broadly, but specifically.  Of all of the prophecies that the masters of the Force had uttered, this was THE ONE.  And it called for one knight who would rise up and bring balance, securing peace and tranquility for all.  True, George Lucas maintains that Anakin was the Chosen One, but that bothers me.  It affronts my desire and need for the redeeming messiah figure (which, I have said, is innate to humankind).  The messiah of the prophecy must fulfill the prophecy and cannot fail.

Seeing Star Wars Anew Again

This article was originally published at the venerable Coffee With Kenobi

Attack of the Clones was on TBS the other day. I dutifully and joyfully put it on. This under-appreciated episode of the Saga is much maligned, and I think that is wrong. While viewing this visually stunning masterpiece, I realized that I was reciting all of the lines along with the movie. Like some people sing along to “Bohemian Rhapsody,” “Sweet Caroline” or “Frankenstein,” I find that speaking along with these movies is comforting and helps me to find new depth in them. So then the question arises: How can we see these movies for what they are, and not what we expect them to be? By this I mean an even more basic question. Can we ever see these movies new again?

For the past decade we have been treated to The Clone Wars and Star Wars Rebels, each of which has offered new insights to Episode II (among other things); and I would say that it has made it an entirely different movie. So, I ask myself, can I see this movie fresh, or is it constantly going to be colored by preconceived notions that I, myself, bring to each viewing? What if I had seen Episode II after the various cartoon series? And if I had, what would have changed? Certainly not the cinematic output, but me. I would have changed with more insight, or having been at a different stage in my life.

One Life Saved, the World Entire Saved: Schindler’s List & the Passing of a Survivor of WWII

This Article was originally published at www.thebeardedtrio.com

All of us who find or search for this page have something in common: a love of great movies, the joy they bring us and an admiration for the people who have brought amazing ideas to life.  I am a Star Wars enthusiast, and will watch anything by Spielberg when it is available.  Goonies, ET, everything Indy, everything Marty.  All of these fantasies fueled the emerging hopes of my childhood.

The fanciful and wonderful movies of my youth that led me to look for the great mysteries of this world.  And then I found a great mystery confronting my sensibilities, my stomach and my own relationship to the world around me.  When I was 18, I came across Schindler’s List.  It was only three weeks after my grandmother died, the matriarch of the family.  I often refer to her as St Granny because of the place her love has had in my life – even after her repose in the Lord.  I don’t remember the occasion, but a lot of the family was gathered together and watched the movie, which was aired without commercial interruption.  Drama of this sort was not something we generally did as a family.  We were into comedies, stand-up comedians, and family stories.  This was a special evening.  Read More

Life and Death of a Simple Leaf

I just watched a single leaf fall from a tree outside.  It is autumn, we saw temperatures in the 30s last night, it was beautifully brisk.  That leaf has done its job since late spring.  The bud showed itself sometime as the last icy patches were receding.  The yearly tiny glaciers that give rise to a new short age.  The shoot pushed out of the branch, arcing toward the sunshine, toward the source of the light.  Soon after Pascha, the full young leaf revealed its inherent splendor. Still smaller than its potential. I have heard in many nature documentaries that the deer love young leaves the most.  So being young was risky, but necessary.  As we all tumbled through the end of the school year, or to the early days of outdoor life reawakened, that leaf reached its full stature.  Broad, green, its lines placed there by the finger of God Himself.  We didn’t notice.  That leaf became one of thousands on one tree in a stand of thousands of trees in a town that is more green than anything else. It offered shade to the world below, it fed us the air we breathe.  It worked in concert with its elevated neighbors in a fragile yet powerful system.  The canopy above us, that is the sky, is unreachable by our tiny selves.  So the Lord put the canopy a little lower so that we might know that His loving care is also reachable, and condescends to meet us and provide in our need.  The leaf was a part of that plan.