Book Write-Up: Calvinism and the Problem of Evil

David E. Alexander and Daniel M. Johnson, ed.  Calvinism and the Problem of Evil.  Eugene: Pickwick Publications (an Imprint of Wipf and Stock), 2016.  See here to purchase the book.

Calvinism is a Christian belief system that holds that God, before the foundation of the world, predestined the specific individuals who would be saved and damned.  It thinks that people are so sinful that they are unable to repent and believe in Christ apart from God’s transforming grace, and that conversion is inevitable when God’s regenerating grace works on a person.  There are many Calvinists who also maintain that God foreordained everything that would happen.

The problem of evil is a philosophical problem that asks how evil can exist, if God is omnipotent and benevolent.  If God is both omnipotent and benevolent, would not God stop evil, which hurts so many people?

Many Christians address the problem of evil by appealing to libertarian free will.  The idea is that God allows people freely to make their own decisions, since they can only accept God authentically if that is the case.  Their version of free will is called “libertarian” because it presumes that people’s decisions are uncaused and that people were able to choose differently from the choice that they actually made; this, the idea goes, is why people are morally responsible.  Not only have many Christians appealed to libertarian free will to explain why God permits evil choices today, but they also believe that it is relevant to God allowing Adam and Eve to sin, in a sin that brought evil and chaos into the world.

Calvinism differs from this approach.  It tends to reject libertarian free will, embracing instead compatibilism, which holds that there are causes to (or, perhaps, influences on) the choices that people make.  Rather than regarding people as morally neutral and thus able to choose equally between good and evil, it holds that people have a propensity towards evil as a result of original sin, and yet that God can change the desires of those whom God elected unto salvation.

As David E. Alexander and Daniel M. Johnson state in their introduction to Calvinism and the Problem of Evil, Calvinism has been rather marginalized in Christian discussions of the problem of evil.  The reason is that many Christians think that Calvinism makes the problem of evil worse rather than solving it.  If Calvinism believes that God not only permitted, but foreordained, that evil should exist, does that not make God the author of evil?  Does Calvinism make people into robots rather than rational agents with choice?  Moreover, how can God send people to hell for something that they cannot control, namely, God’s decision to choose them for damnation rather than salvation?

This book interacts with these questions, and others.  In terms of another question with which the book interacts, there is the question of how Adam and Eve could sin, when God made them good.  Calvinists can understand how people born with original sin and a corrupt nature can sin: it is their nature.  But how could good people sin?

In this review, I will comment about each chapter.

Chapter 1, “Calvinism and the Problem of Evil: A Map of the Territory,” by Daniel M. Johnson, is lengthy, yet well-written and lucid.  Unlike some of the later essays, it tends to avoid arguments in which letters stand for concepts.  It lays out different Calvinist perspectives on such questions as how Adam and Eve could sin.  It said that God has a reason to damn at least some people as an object lesson of God’s justice, and the reaction that immediately occurred in my mind was: “But Calvinism does not just say that some people will be damned, but that a lot of people will be.  Why would God do that?”  A later essay in the book would address this question.

Chapter 2, “Molinist Gunslingers: God and the Authorship of Sin,” by Greg Welty, argues that Molinism has the same problem that many think Calvinism has.  Molinism holds that God foresaw different possible worlds and chose to create a world in which people freely sinned.  For Welty, one can accuse Molinism of presuming that God is the one who is responsible for sin, which is what critics of Calvinism say about Calvinism.  Welty perhaps could have made this point without all of the elaborate argumentation, but he still raises an interesting question, one that subsequent essays will raise, as well: Do non-Calvinist Christian beliefs run into the same problems that many think are inherent to Calvinism?  This chapter is also effective because it cites Scriptures in which God is portrayed as somehow causing, or being behind, people’s evil deeds, only God uses those deeds for a positive and just end.  The question that occurred in my mind was this: Even if there are cases of determinism or compatibilism in the Bible, does that mean that all decisions are foreordained or influenced by factors beyond the decider’s control?  Maybe God can use a person who has voluntarily become evil as a tool for God’s just purpose.

Chapter 3, “Theological Determinism and the ‘Authoring Sin’ Objection,” by Heath White, proposes that God foreordained evil but did not intend to do so.  This does not imply that evil was God’s accident, but rather that God had a just and righteous purpose in mind (God’s glorification and display of God’s righteous character), and God foresaw that a world that had evil would best achieve that purpose.  In my opinion, this model somewhat presents God as limited by the alternatives in front of God.  This chapter was rather helpful in concisely explaining the difference between supralapsarianism and infralapsarianism.

Chapter 4, “Not the Author of Evil: A Question of Providence, Not a Problem for Calvinism,” by James E. Bruce, concerns the thought of Francis Turretin (1623-1687).  According to Bruce, Turretin said that God acts on people, and yet people remain free and rational agents.  Like Welty, Bruce cites Scriptures in which God seems to cause certain people’s evil acts.  Of particular interest was Bruce’s discussion of Turretin’s interaction with Proverbs 21:1, which states that the king’s heart is like water in the hands of the LORD, who turns it wherever the LORD wills.  According to Turretin, God here is not tempting the king to sin, for that would be impossible: James 1:13, after all, emphatically denies that God tempts people to sin.  Rather, for Turretin, what is going on is that God is providing the king with righteous ideas knowing fully well that the king will use those ideas in wicked ways.  That view was new to me!

Chapter 5, “Orthodoxy, Theological Determinism, and the Problem of Evil,” by David E. Alexander, essentially argues that many Christian beliefs presume compatibilism or are more consistent with compatibilism than with libertarianism.  These are Christian beliefs that even non-Calvinist Christians hold.  They include such beliefs as original sin, the inspiration of Scripture, Christ’s sinlessness, and God’s sovereignty.  This is a legitimate point, yet questions can be asked.  Does God have to determine everything, to be sovereign?  Cannot God be sovereign over the big picture without controlling every little detail (even through secondary causes or means)?  Cannot God mitigate original sin and provide people with more ability to choose with prevenient grace, or common grace?  This chapter also addresses the topic of hell and proposes that God shows some love to people in hell by keeping them alive there.  This is a difficult concept for me, since they are being eternally tormented in hell.

Chapter 6, “Discrimination: Aspects of God’s Causal Activity,” by Paul Helm, likens God’s love for the elect to people legitimately loving their own family more than outsiders.  Helm seems to question whether a world in which there is absolute equality among people is even possible.  Helm also challenges the idea that Calvinists believe that God forces the elect to convert, or brainwashes them: it is rather a matter of enlightenment, of awakening.

Chapter 7, “On Grace and Free Will,” by Hugh J. McCann, is noteworthy because it recognizes and wrestles with different dimensions of human decisions.  On the one hand, we did not technically decide what the desires that influence our decisions would be: those desires are just there.  On the other hand, it does appear that our decisions are spontaneous and that we are active in making them.  McCann seemingly attempts to posit that determinism and compatibilism can co-exist with human free will.  Another noteworthy element of this chapter is that McCann rejects any idea that God deliberated prior to creation, for McCann believes that God knew what was correct and made what was correct, without really needing to deliberate.  That seems to differ from Heath White’s model (chapter 3) of God surveying various options, depending on how literally White took this model.

Chapter 8, “The First Sin: A Dilemma for Christian Determinists,” by Alexander R. Pruss, engages the question of how Adam and Eve could sin, being good.  This chapter is detailed and complex, but it is still useful because it interacts with options.  Pruss does appear to have a problem with Jonathan Edwards’ model, in which God somehow influences Adam and Eve to sin by withdrawing grace from them.  This shows that there is diversity among Calvinists.  (UPDATE: Actually, Pruss is a Catholic.)  Pruss also seems rather open to libertarian free will being something that Adam and Eve possessed.

Chapter 9, “Calvinism and the First Sin,” by James N. Anderson, also addresses how Adam and Eve could sin, being good.  Anderson relays a helpful analogy from Alfred Mele, in which an ordinarily self-controlled woman named Ann gives in to alcohol when she is pressured.  Anderson also elaborates on the authorial model of God’s providence, a model that was briefly mentioned by previous contributors, but which Anderson explained more fully.  In this model, God is likened to an author: a character is acting as he is acting because of what the author wrote, and yet the character is still acting according to his own free will.  In reading this, I thought of the show, Once Upon a Time, in which an author wrote what the characters did, and they did it, while acting freely.  Moreover, Anderson interacts with Molinism, the belief that God foresees but does not foreordain evil, and open theism, which denies that God even knows the future.  These are non-Calvinist views.  Anderson believes that divine foreknowledge is rather deterministic itself, for, if God foresees something, does that not make it inevitable?  (I one time debated this question with an Intervarsity sponsor, and his answer to the question was “no.”)  Anderson also holds that open theism presents God as a gambler.  To that, I ask this question: Can one legitimately believe that God does not know every detail of the future and yet still exercises sovereignty over the big picture?  God can control how God will act, after all, whether or not God entirely knows how we will act.

Chapter 10, “A Compatibicalvinist Demonstrative-Goods Defense,” by Christopher R. Green, explores interesting questions.  Green interacts with the question of whether God could have used nightmares to teach people about God’s righteousness and justice rather than actual evil.  He makes a point about animal suffering, contending that it may be an example of God showing God’s consistency and faithfulness through the regularity that exists in nature, which Jeremiah 33:20 states is the case with the day and the night.  (As an animal lover, I consider that to be a grisly way for God to demonstrate God’s nature; still, animal suffering is a theological problem.)  Green also talks about how God can use a person’s story for future generations, without that person’s knowledge, as God did with the characters in the Bible.  One’s participation in the divine drama, in which evil is a reality with which people deal, may show people what God is like and edify future generations.

Chapter 11, “Calvinism and the Problem of Hell,” by Matthew J. Hart, articulates the thoughts of Jonathan Edwards to argue that so many people are damned to hell to edify the glorified elect: to enhance their appreciation of their redemption, as they realize that they themselves could have been damned, apart from God’s grace.  To this, I ask whether glorified Christians will have any love for the people in hell.  Are we not on earth, after all, to learn to love others, and is that not more important than for us to relish our own advantages?  Hart also addresses the question of whether God is responsible to love everyone God brought into being and sustains, even the non-elect.  Hart invokes an analogy in which a capsule produces adult males.  Are the creators of the capsule required to love those adult males, to the same extent that they love their own families, even though they technically created the adult males?  Hart’s answer seems to be no, and he believes that this resembles God’s stance towards the non-elect.  This analogy made me question the effectiveness of analogies in explaining the Bible: Is a sci-fi analogy, like this one, a bit anachronistic?  Should not something on the radar of the biblical authors be cited, instead?

Chapter 12, “Calvinism, Self-Attestation, and Apathy toward Arguments from Evil,” by Anthony Bryson, challenges an idea held by some Calvinists that the Bible is self-attesting: that Christians know it is true because it is God’s word, period!  According to this view, to appeal to, say, reason or evidence to substantiate the Bible is to say that there are criteria for truth above God’s word, and this is wrong.  For Bryson, this belief influences some Calvinists to conclude that the problem of evil is not a significant problem.  If we know that God is real because the Bible is God’s word, after all, then the problem of evil cannot challenge God’s existence.  Bryson disputes this.  This chapter will be challenging and difficult for those who are unfamiliar with epistemological externalism and epistemological internalism.

Overall, this book does provide food for thought.  It explores and interacts with various possibilities.  A possible disadvantage is that the book was rather clinical and abstract in its discussion of evil, rather than acknowledging the real-life damage that evil brings.  Whether the book successfully makes the God of Calvinism look any better is a subjective judgment: I did not always think that it did.  A definite positive of the book, however, is that it shows how diverse Calvinism can be, and it highlighted some interpretations that were new to me.

I apologize for any unintentional distortions on my part in describing Calvinism or the views of these authors.
I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.

Scattered Ramblings on Loving One's Neighbor and Relationships

III Maccabees is about the attempt by King Ptolemy IV Philopator in the late third century B.C.E. to obliterate the Jews of Egypt, and God's deliverance of the Jews.  In the course of this plot, God messes with Ptolemy’s brain, such that Ptolemy says to his friends who are participating in the plot: “In fact you would have been deprived of life instead of these [Jews], if it were not for an affection arising from our nurture in common and your usefulness” (III Maccabees 5:32 NRSV).  Ptolemy out of the blue is telling his friends that he would execute them, if not for the affection that he has towards them on account of their growing up together, and also their usefulness.

This is actually a pretty profound passage.  I would not say that it is completely right, but there is some truth in it.  It is understandable that people would feel some affection towards those with whom they’ve grown up or have had a shared history.  That doesn’t always happen, but it does happen.  Familiarity can breed contempt, but it is also a factor in friendship.  And don’t underestimate usefulness!  Some librarians at a public library were rude to me one day, and I fantasized about taking over the library and firing them.  The problem, within my fantasy, was that I would then have to find other people to learn the ropes.  I asked myself: Why not stick with those who already know the ropes?  So the librarians kept their jobs in my fantasy.  I still gave them a stern lecture, though!

III Maccabees also explores the attitudes of the non-Jews in Egypt towards the Jews’ persecution.  Many were reveling in it.  Part of that may have had to do with the non-Jews’ cruelty, and part of it related to a sincere belief that the Jews were a danger to the country, that the Jews were strange, clannish, and misanthropic in their approach to outsiders, and that the Jews may join the enemies of Ptolemaic Egypt in a war.  These non-Jews either explained away or did not pay attention to the times when Jews were loyal to the Ptolemaic realm.

III Maccabees 4 is rather jarring.  III Maccabees 4 depicts old men, young men, new brides, and new bridegrooms being taken to their destination of death, and many non-Jews did not look at them with pity.  Here these non-Jews were, looking at fellow human beings, like themselves, being brutally handled and taken to their deaths, and they did not feel any compassion.  It was ironic that I read this passage after watching a miniseries about the rise of Hitler, in which Robert Carlyle (of Once Upon a Time) played Hitler).  But I thought about a scene in another movie, Schindler’s List.  Schindler was riding horses with one of his girlfriends, and he saw Jews being rounded up.  Among the Jews was a little girl dressed in red.  That caught Schindler’s attention and set him on the path of wanting to save as many Jews as he could from the Holocaust.  Not all Germans had that reaction, however.  Schindler’s girlfriend did not want to see the Jews being rounded up.  A number of Germans rejoiced at it.

We do not know everybody, but hopefully we can respect the common humanity that we share with other people, including those we don’t know, and that can bring about compassion within us.
I was reading a post recently, though.  It was on the web site Prayer Coach, and the post was about loving one’s neighbor.  The author was saying that love for neighbor was about more than helping people, but it involved getting to know them.  Getting to know them is part of our love for God, for it allows us to appreciate the piece of Godself that God put into them.  And the interaction enables us to identify what exactly we believe about God: “As we get to know others we test what we actually believe about God. Do we feel we can comfort others, or do we remain silent when others are hurting (2 Corinthians 1:4)? Do we believe we are accepted in our weakness, or do we hide our faults for fear of being rejected (2 Corinthians 12:9)? Do we believe in God’s protection, or do we refuse to forgive others when they hurt us (Colossians 3:13)?”

I can easily get defensive about what this post says on account of my shyness, my introversion, and my Asperger’s Syndrome.  But, in applying this post, I do not have to beat myself up for not interacting with everyone, as if God will not love me if I do not.  But I can be encouraged to see God’s greatness in the make-up of human beings, to remember that all people have a story, and, if I can summon the nerve or the right things to say, to listen to their stories. I can do this through reading and also social interaction.

I can also identify with what the post said about how our interactions can reveal what we truly believe about God.  I am sometimes afraid that, if I interact with others, I will fall short spiritually.  I am not saying that I fear others would contaminate me with their worldliness, but that I fear falling short—-that I will become impatient with someone, or unforgiving, or desire to leave the relationship.  Better not to start the relationship in the first place, I think to myself.  Then I won’t fall short spiritually!  What does that reveal about what I think about God?  That God is a perfectionist who will not accept me if I make mistakes, or find that I have difficulty coping with a relationship.

That brings me to something else that III Maccabees says.  III Maccabees 5:13 calls God “him who is easily reconciled” (NRSV).  The story of III Maccabees is so-so, maybe even a bit odd, but some of its jewels are in its incidental statements.  God is easily reconciled.  Imagine that!

Once Upon a Time Cliffhanger: Happy Endings

I watched the winter cliffhanger to Once Upon a Time last Sunday night.  I’d like to share what stood out to me and see if I can bring all that together into a coherent thought.

1.  Regina was the evil queen of the Snow White story.  She has been trying to be good, though.  Her problem is that, in fairy tales, villains do not have happy endings, and so she fears that she will not have a happy ending.  That is confirmed, in her eyes, when she loses Robin Hood, with whom she is in love.  Robin Hood is married to Maid Marion, who has been comatose due to a spell by the Snow Queen.  (Regina and Robin Hood did not fall in love while Robin Hood was married, for Maid Marion had died, but Emma and Hook went back in time and brought back a woman from the past, and she turned out to be Maid Marion.)  Regina helps bring Maid Marion out of her coma, but Marion begins to fall back into her disease.  Regina concludes that Marion can only be free of her disease outside of Storybrooke, for Marion needs to get away from magic.  The thing is, no one who leaves Storybrooke can ever come back.  Regina recognizes that Robin Hood will have to leave Storybrooke with Maid Marion, for it would be wrong to leave Marion out there alone.  Regina does the right thing, but she is depressed because she cannot have her happy ending.

2.  Regina has a talk with Mr. Gold/Rumplestiltskin, who himself has struggled in choosing between good and evil.  Gold has decided to pursue a selfish path.  Gold tells Regina that he does not need any author of fairy tales to write him a happy ending, for he will simply take his happy ending.  Mr. Gold then tells Regina that, as hard as it may be for her to believe, he hopes that she will have her happy ending, too.  Things do not turn out well for Gold, though.  Gold’s wife, Belle, whom Gold sincerely loves, and who has long rooted for Gold to become good, learns that Gold has pursued evil and rejects Gold, making him leave Storybrooke (she has a dagger that can control Gold’s actions).  Gold does not get his happy ending, after all.  At the end of the show, he himself wants to find the Author!

3.  Amidst her sadness, Regina actually feels happy that Gold lost out on his happy ending?  Why?  My guess is that it shows her that, on some level, the universe is still a fairly just place.  She is disillusioned because she did the right thing and is suffering for it.  It may be a relief to her to see that, notwithstanding Gold’s attempts to claim his happy ending while being selfish and evil, his selfishness and evil led to his downfall.  Doing good will not always lead to things going well, but evil often contains the seeds of downfall.

4.  What particularly interests me is that, on some level, Gold was being good when he was talking to Regina.  He sincerely wished that she might have a happy ending, and he was offering her advice.  I would not say that he was altruistic or was invested in Regina having a happy ending—-I am sure that if he had to choose between his happiness and Regina’s, he would choose his own.  But he was a detached observer, one who felt that he learned some valuable life lessons and was imparting those lessons to Regina.  While Gold is being somewhat giving on his path of evil and selfishness, however, Regina in her commitment to goodness gloats a bit over Gold’s misfortune.

Frozen, Once Upon a Time, Elizabeth Mitchell

I watched the Disney movie Frozen last week, since the TV series Once Upon a Time is focusing on the Frozen characters this season.  Watching Frozen certainly enhanced my appreciation of last Sunday’s episode!  I understood why Anna was going by “Joan” (she admired Joan of Ark in the movie).  I could appreciate her statement that she loved sandwiches (she loved them in the movie).  When she said in last Sunday’s episode that she risked her life to teach her sister Elsa that survival was not the same as living, I knew what she was talking about, for I experienced it with her in watching the movie.

What’s more, I actually liked the Frozen characters in Once Upon a Time after seeing the movie, more than I did before seeing it.   When I first saw the first episode of this season, which was before I saw the movie, I did not care for the Frozen characters as much.  Anna seemed to me to be chattering aimlessly.  Perhaps I did admire Elsa’s display of power: in the preview, she said that no one would leave the town until she found her sister!  But, overall, I liked the characters better after seeing the movie, maybe because I enjoyed the movie and got to know the characters.

Elizabeth Mitchell will be playing the snow queen this season.  At the end of last Sunday’s episode, the announcer referred to her as “LOST‘s Elizabeth Mitchell.”  That at first puzzled me, since LOST ended about four years ago, and Elizabeth Mitchell was in other things since then.   But it shouldn’t puzzle me.  Why would ABC mention the fact that she was on Revolution, an NBC show?  And, while she was on V, an ABC show, LOST was a more successful ABC show.  It lasted longer, and it ended rather than getting cancelled.

I did not like Elizabeth Mitchell on LOST at first on account of her smirk, which looked pretty smug.  But I got to like her better when I learned that I had already seen her in things, playing characters that I liked.  I think of the mom on the movie Frequency.  Plus, I warmed up to her a bit on LOST because I got used to her being around.

Movie Write-Up: Frozen

We watched Frozen last night.  I actually watched it twice.  Frozen is a 2013 Walt Disney movie about a queen named Elsa who goes off into solitude after people learn about her magical powers—-powers of making ice and snow.  Elsa inadvertently causes a snow storm in her land, so her sister Anna, accompanied by Kristoff, his reindeer Sven, and Olaf the little snowman, go in search of her.  But Anna is not just looking for her sister to stop the snow storm.  She loves her sister, and she is saddened that her sister has shut her out for most of their life.  The reason that Elsa has been doing so, however, is that Elsa as a child accidentally injured Anna with her ice-powers, and Elsa does not want to hurt Anna (or anyone else) ever again.  While Anna and Elsa have such a rapport on the rare occasions that they do get to spend time together, Elsa consigns herself to isolation.

I thought that it would be a good idea for us to watch this movie right now because the TV series Once Upon a Time is focusing on Frozen this season.  I have been familiar with most of the characters in Once Upon a Time on account of Disney movies or Grimm’s fairy tales.  Consequently, when they have been introduced into the series, my reaction was, “Hey, it’s that character!”  I did not have as much familiarity with Frozen, though.  Although I had read the wikipedia summary of what the movie is about, reading about a movie and actually watching and experiencing it are two different things.  Doing the latter, I get to know the characters better.

I enjoyed Frozen.  I liked all of the characters, including Olaf, whom I thought would annoy me.  A major disappointment to me, however, is that Prince Hans—-a prince from another country who was engaged to Princess Anna—-turned out to be a bad guy.  Of course, having read the wikipedia entry, and having seen the reference to Hans and his twelve angry brothers in Once Upon a Time, I knew before watching the movie that he would turn out to be bad.  But the problem was that I really liked him throughout much of the movie.  He seemed so good—-he was a bit socially awkward, he cared for his horse, he served the inhabitants of Arendelle when Anna was off looking for Elsa, and he ordered his men not to harm Elsa when they came to her ice-palace.  Who would have suspected that this was all an act—-that he had designs on the throne of Arendelle and had plans to kill Elsa?

Except for “Let It Go,” the music at first was a turn-off to me, but I appreciated it a lot more the second time that I watched the movie.  “Do You Want to Build a Snowman,” which Anna sang outside of Elsa’s door in asking Elsa to come out and play, was so sad because it captured Anna’s loneliness and desire to be with her sister Elsa.  There was also a beautiful song about how Elsa did not have to figure things out alone because her sister was there for her.  And the song that the rock-trolls sang when they were trying to get Kristoff (whom they took in and raised) and Anna married—-“He’s a fixer-upper”—-was cool because it was about how Kristoff had rough edges (i.e., he was socially awkward, a loner who liked his reindeer more than people, and had a smell), yet love could bring out the best in him, and anyone.

I’m glad I watched this movie, both because it will provide me context for this season’s Once Upon a Time, and also because it had a sweet story.

"Let It Go"----For Ten Hours

I’ve not seen the Disney movie Frozen yet.  I plan to eventually, since the Snow Queen Elsa from Frozen will be a character in the upcoming season of Once Upon a Time (one of my favorite shows).

Even though I’ve not yet seen the movie, I have been listening to the song “Let It Go.”  It won an Academy Award.  I love the song, for a variety of reasons.  Perhaps the biggest reason is that it is about Elsa’s journey from sadness and isolation to self-acceptance, freedom, and triumph, even defiance.  Something I read on the Internet said that Elsa was a misunderstood character.  I think of that as I listen to “Let It Go.”

On YouTube, you can listen to the song for ten hours straight.  Click here if you don’t believe me, or if you do believe me and want to listen to it.  That is a bit much for me.  I don’t want to get to the point where I am so sick of the song, that it fails to inspire me when I actually watch the movie!  I can still identify, however, with one commentator who said that she likes the YouTube video because now she can just listen to the song as long as she wants, without having to manually go back and restart the song.

I’m listening to the video now.  I think I’m on the fourth playing of “Let It Go.”  I’ll shut it off soon because I need to be brought back to earth, and that’s hard when I’m listening to such a highly emotional and intense song.  It can drain one’s emotions!

I’m wanting to review a book on my blog for an academic publishing house.  It’s deciding whether or not to accept me as a reviewer for that book.  Someone from there may be visiting my blog to see what kind of blog it is.  To that person, I ask that he or she look around on my blog.  I do review academic books!  Today, though, I decided to write a light post about a song.  A heavy song.

Snowed In, But Stay Tuned! Okay, About Once Upon a Time...

I don’t have a blog post about church today because I did not go to it, due to the snow.  I was going to write a “free” post, if you will, about a topic of my choice, but I’m not in much of a mood to do so.  I’m in a mellow, introverted mood.  But stay tuned for next Sunday!  Maybe then I’ll get to church and write a blog post about it.

Well, come to think of it, I’ve suddenly developed the mood to write.  Tonight is the Winter finale of Once Upon a Time.  That is one of the few new shows that I watch: I watch that and The Middle.  Once Upon a Time has been all right this season.  It was interesting that Peter Pan turned out to be the father of Mr. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin!  The story about the little mermaid was pretty good, too.

I have also been watching Once Upon a Time in Wonderland on Thursday nights.  That’s been hit or miss for me—-some episodes I really like, and some I don’t.  I have particularly enjoyed the flashbacks about Jafar, the villain of the series.  In general, the Once Upon a Time series does an excellent job with stories about how evil people became evil.  I still remember last season of Once Upon a Time, when we saw how Regina’s mother Cora became how she was.  In one scene, a princess tripped a young Cora (who was a peasant before she became queen), and the princess was asked if she was all right!  That made me angry, and sympathetic towards Cora.

In one of the episodes of Once Upon a Time in Wonderland, we learn about Jafar’s relationship with his father.  Jafar’s father was a sultan, and Jafar was his illegitimate son (I don’t like the word “illegitimate” here, but I can’t think of an alternative word to use, and I don’t want to use “bastard”).  The sultan let Jafar stay around as a servant, but he would not recognize Jafar as his son.  When the show cuts to the present, we see that Jafar has Alice’s father in prison, and there is an old man there.  Alice’s father later apologizes to Alice (while Jafar suspends him in the air) for not being a good father.  When we cut back to Jafar’s past, Jafar is returning to the sultan.  Jafar as a child was drowned and thrown out of the palace by his father, and Jafar then went on to receive training in magic so that he could become powerful and exact revenge.  Jafar is now an adult, and he is returning to the sultan as a powerful wizard, and we see that the sultan is the old man who would later be in Jafar’s prison.  The show cuts to the present, and Jafar is talking with his father, who is in a huge birdcage.  Jafar wants the genie so that he can make his sultan father acknowledge that Jafar is his son.  The father asks what good that would be, if he’s forced to say what he doesn’t truly mean.  But, for some reason, it’s good enough for Jafar.  That made me think: in some cases, I’m content with people pretending that they like me even if they don’t, because at least things run smoothly then.  It’s not an uphill social battle for me in that sort of situation.  I know that’s slightly different from Jafar’s situation, but that storyline still made me think about this issue.

In any case, that was a powerful episode.  I’m sure that we’re intended to compare Alice’s father with Jafar’s father, and that there is deep meaning in all of that, but I don’t have the words for it.  Perhaps somebody else does!

Rumplestiltskin, Captain Hook, and True Courage

I actually enjoyed last night's episode of Once Upon a Time.  I decided to watch the show this season, even though I did not watch the first season, because the documentary summation of the show's plot intrigued me, plus I read that the show has been received quite positively, and, being the sort of person who doesn't want to wade into a show or movie that will end up disappointing me, I tend to put a lot of stock in that (as much of a non-conformist as I am).  But, to be honest, until last night, I've not particularly enjoyed the show, for the acting has been rather stilted, the kid has been annoying, and I have had a hard time identifying with or caring about the characters.

Last night's episode was different, however.  It focused on the villain Rumplestiltskin.  In the world of fairy tales, Rumplestiltskin was lampooned as a coward because he did not fight in the war against the ogres, and his wife was ashamed of him on account of that fact.  She meets a sea-captain in the bar and is enthralled by his tales of the places he's been, and she leaves her husband and son to go with him.  Rumplestiltskin thinks that the sea-captain is kidnapping her, and so he goes onto the captain's ship to ask for his wife back.  The sea-captain responds by challenging Rumplestiltskin to a duel, but Rumplestiltskin cowers and flees.

Later on, Rumplestiltskin attains power, an ability with magic, confidence, and a reputation as the feared "dark man".  He sees the sea-captain at a bar, and the sea-captain bullies him.  But Rumplestiltskin gains the upper hand, and he challenges the sea-captain to a duel.  The next morning, when Rumplestiltskin goes to fight the sea-captain, he sees his wife where the sea-captain is living, and Rumplestiltskin learns that she was not dead (as the sea-captain told him the previous day), and that she left with the sea-captain voluntarily because she fell in love with him.  In the course of events, Rumplestiltskin chops off the sea-captain's hand (making the sea-captain the famous Captain Hook), and he kills his wife.  Captain Hook tells Rumplestiltskin that, even though Rumplestiltskin is more powerful now, he is still a coward. 

Meanwhile, there's a magic bean, which can transport people across worlds.  Rumplestiltskin made a deal with his wife because he thought that she had the magic bean, and Rumplestiltskin wanted it so that he could travel to a world where his son was.  But the bean's custodian is a little portly man.  After Rumplestiltskin vanishes, the little portly man wants something in return from Captain Hook for the magic bean (or so I gathered), and Captain Hook offers him his life and a chance to be part of his crew.  Hook asks the little portly man what his name is, and the man replies "William Smee", who is Captain Hook's famous sidekick in the Peter Pan story.  Hook throws the bean onto the sea, creating a whirlpool that leads into another world.  Hook wants to travel to another world so that he can plot revenge on Rumplestiltskin for killing the woman Hook loved.  When Smee asks where they are going, Hook replies (of course), "Neverland!"

In the real world, where Rumplestiltskin is Mr. Gold, Rumplestiltskin also struggles against his cowardice.  His girlfriend Belle (from Beauty and the Beast) is upset with him because she caught him using magic.  Rumplestiltskin asks someone for dating advice, and the guy tells him that the key to a successful relationship is honesty.  Belle is looking for a job and loves books, so she'd like to be the librarian at the local library that is re-opening.  Rumplestiltskin gives her the key to the library as an act of kindness, with no strings attached that she will continue a romantic relationship with him.  He also confesses that he was a coward for not being honest with her.

So why did I enjoy this particular episode?  First of all, I could identify with the characters.  There was Rumplestiltskin, who was a coward, and I rooted for him when he became powerful and could challenge his bullies.  There was Rumplestiltskin's wife, who wanted a bigger life than the one she had and thus followed Captain Hook.  There was Captain Hook, who, although he was a bully and a scoundrel, loved Rumplestiltskin's wife and knew enough about character that he recognized that power does not equal courage.  There was Belle, who had her own dreams of becoming a librarian.  And Rumplestiltskin chose to love her unconditionally----whether or not she reciprocated that love.

Second, the episode was exploring what true courage is.  I still do not understand how Rumplestiltskin was a coward even when he was powerful, but I'm sure that Captain Hook had something deep and profound in his mind when he made that accusation.  Perhaps Rumplestiltskin was a coward because he did not accept life as it was----he could not accept that his wife did not love him, and so he felt that he had to get his own way, even if that hurt other people.  At times, courage may entail accepting unpleasant realities and being a bigger person, as Rumplestiltskin was in his relationship with Belle at the end of the episode.