Answering Dr. Machel

I had the good fortune of attending my weekly CHRTC 451 lecture (also see our web-based discussion forum) this past Wednesday (March 8th), and therein I had the pleasure of listening to what was essentially a three-hour lecture by Dr. Hans Machel (who has the most tediously boring website of any prof I've known). Apparently, the format for the class called for a roughly two-hour lecture in which Dr. Machel -- who makes (and fails at) the attempt to describe his lack of faith in the same way Bertrand Russel did (an 'agnostic' to the enlightened intellectuals, and an 'atheist' to the lowly, uneducated commoners) -- would attempt to present his viewpoint on the Theory of Evolution as proven fact and the concept of Young Earth Creationism as mere hooey.

On this first point, of course, I would be inclined to agree with him. I've written before concerning my stance on the whole issue of human origins, and if I had to summarize it briefly, I would say that I remain a committed Evolutionary creationist and suggest you follow that link to read Dr. Lamoureux's excellent sumamry of that particular philosophical standpoint.

The overall subject of the discussion was, for the most part, an excellent categorical analysis. I have to admit that, in my notes for the class, I did take note of the fact that in his initial approach to the students of the class (when we all went around introducing ourselves), he came over as...well, quite frankly, as a facetious ass. He was exceedingly nitpicky with the students, challenging them and demanding (and re-demanding) answers to the oddest questions. At one point, I even wrote the following point as a question to myself:

• WHY DID THE TERM "SNARKY" COME TO MIND?

Still, moving past his rather overbearing demeanour at the outset, the first part of his presentation did give some interesting food for thought. Of particular interest, to me at least, was the way in which he was open about the fact that he sees merit in teaching Creationism (in the "Young Earth" sense of the term), although his motives for doing so were blatantly obvious from the get-go: set it up in discussion so that it can be taken down, hard. But while I can understand his approach, I can't necessarily say I agree with it all the way. Certainly, I think there is merit to a point-by-point refutation of what is essentially a scientific fallacy, but I don't think it should approached maliciously.

It's a long one from here on in, so if you'd like you can download a PDF of the essay.

Read more...

In my CHRTC 451 class this coming Wednesday, the collective wisdom of the class will be pitted against Dr. Hans Machel (who, I must say, has a very boring website indeed!) of the University of Alberta's Earth and Atmospheric Sciences department. Dr. Machel will be presnting to the class an example of a dysteliological evolutionist. To characterize Dr. Machel as antitheist might be a misrepresentation, and Dr. Lamoureux assures me that Dr. Machel really is just searching for a gateway into faith.

That said, he's also still defiantly atheist, does not think that faith and reason can be reconciled to each other, and among other things celebrates what he likes to call "Darmas" -- the birthday of Charles Darwin.

I've been trying to compose an argument to use against Dr. Machel since last Wednesday, and indeed for much of the semester already, and I think that today I finally got a hint that I was going about it wrong, because I was trying to frame it in the explicit context of the evolution/creation debate...which really, if I think about it, is not at all what my faith is about. Certainly, I will argue certain points in the debate, when I think such argument is warranted, although it should be noted that my chief argument in the debate is that the debate itself doesn't need to exist, and that faith and science can work together to reveal a more complete truth about not only the origin of creation, but the purpose behind it as well. To hardline "Young Earthers", and also to hardline "it's all random, and there is no God" types, this is not a position that often comes up, and many actively attempt to prevent its articulation...although I think in the end, it is the correct position.

But it is a position that I adopt because of my faith, rather than to define my faith.

And so I think, if Dr. Machel wants to know why I am a person of faith, I will begin by relating to him the following reflection.

I had the fortune, today, of being a minister of the Cup at Mass. That is to say, during Communion I was one of the people standing up there with a chalice full of wine, offering it to each person that approached me. Of course, it wasn't actually wine in the cup -- it had the "accidentals" (appearence, taste, scent, etc.) of wine, but was in fact the Blood of Christ, the Real Presence of the risen Lord. I've been a minister of the cup before, of course, but today I had the added fortune of being able to offer the cup to two people in particular: my father, and the girl I hope will one day agree to have me as her husband.

And it was a singularily moving experience to be able to hold out the chalice to them and say "The Blood of Christ" before offering it to them so that they might share in it and take a sip.

Of course, Christ died as he did, and then rose from the dead three days later, in order to destroy sin and death, and to free humanity from both. Through Christ are our sins forgiven, and through the sacrifice he offered of His own Body and Blood are we made clean and whole, purified and perfected by the Spirit. That shouldn't come as news to anyone who has read Scripture before.

But today I realized the unique chance I had to share not only in the salvation Christ offers to me -- which I try and constantly keep mindful of -- but in the salvation of others as well. It was a uniquely moving experience to be able to offer the Cup of Salvation to both my own father and the girl I love so deeply, to be able to offer them some of the very Blood by which they will be and have been made clean from all their sins.

And that is, I realize, one of the reasons I remain not only a person of faith, a Christian, but also (more specifically) a Catholic: the opportunity to participate not only in my own salvation, but in the salvation of others, in the blessing and washing clean of those whom I love and cherish most in this world. This is an experience quite apart from any scientific and technical education I have received, and indeed is quite apart from any apologetic argument I might put forth in defense of a particular principle, or in opposition to a particular error in reason. It is, rather, the human experience of faith and the active living in love, the sharing in salvation through the common meal of the Eucharist which we each can sometimes be called to share with others through the simple act of ministry. It is the opportunity to hold in my hands that which is nothing less than Christ Himself, and the blessing that is the gesture of love that I can offer to another when I pass to them that same cup. Because faith, and indeed salvation itself, are not individualistic things (as some Evangelicals will attest), but rather communal experiences that we can and should share with others around us. And I will remain devoutly Catholic for this reason: that we share in a community of salvation, and indeed that we do so in a wholly unique way.

Misguided Christian responses to sexual sin

An interesting story prompted the usual sort of denunciatory discussion on the Christian Union Forum at GameSpot, where I sometimes post as the token vocal Catholic apologist in a sea of fundigelical Protestants (and a few more level-headed ones, like Myles).

Anyhow...the Fox article itself wasn't anything surprising, considering the source (California). It talked about the emergence of -- just in time for Valentine's Day, surprise! -- several erotic dinner venues and shows that couples could attend for a sizeable fee. For example:

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Naked Dining For starters, there's dinner. Like everyone else in America, couples in California are getting ready to spend Valentine's Day over a candlelit meal for two.

But leave it to Los Angeles to incorporate delicious food and a hot body without the worry of getting fat. Impossible? Hardly, assuming the food never actually reaches your mouth because you are — and this is no joke — the plate.

Gary Arabia’s Global Cuisine — a posh event-producing/catering company that boasts clientele like Kanye West and Shaquille O’Neal — offers the Body Sushi Experience, a sensual dining soiree in which Asian delicacies are painstakingly laid out on strategically placed tea leaves atop a beautiful nude model.

Arabia says the idea came to him years ago after spending time in Japan and feeding, if you will, off the country’s unique cultural and culinary experiences.

“I am based out of L.A. where people have seen it all and done it all. I had clients who were looking for a unique culinary experience. A young lady who worked for me, a beautiful girl, was my muse for bringing Body Sushi out of the closet. It was just natural,” Arabia said.

Au natural, indeed. Fortunately for those of us with a sweet tooth, Arabia’s foray into naked noshing did not stop there. How does a nude model covered in chocolate sound?

“Body Chocolate was an evolution from Body Sushi,” Arabia said. “They are both intimate, sensual, culinary performance experiences.”

But those with shallow pockets or a propensity for beer bongs and thongs need not inquire. The Body Experience will run you $500 a person, at least.

“Body Sushi encapsulates all of the senses. It’s not a bachelor party environment. That’s not to say it’s not incredibly sensual, but it’s not girls on poles,” Arabia said.

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Now I have objections to the above, don't get me wrong. But I was amazed at the...well, with one exception, the posts in the forum in response to this were either very "sounds like fun/go for it!" in nature, or else of the "all nudity is bad and the body is sinful" nature. I suppose I shouldn't roll my eyes too much, but at the same time: bloody typical. And of course, there were the usual fudigelical remarks of this nature:

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This is just one more reason why California will be destroyed.

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Followed by:

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If anything it's going to be an earthquake.

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Yes, it was Christians saying that, of the same sort that called Hurricane Katrina "God's vengeance on the gay festival in New Orleans", as if God were so threatened by the thought of a few thousand partying homosexuals that he had to wipe out an entire city to prevent it. (C'mon...the U.S. Air Force could have wiped out that entire festival and still left the majority of the city intact: you'd think that God's level of precision would be even better.)

In fact, of all the posters in the forum, one who goes by the handle "Bumper" made the most sense:

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Maybe... not very christian thing to be. Think of it this way, I'm saddened by the absurd, reacionary over the top "christian" behaviour seen here. To suggest that x number of nude places designates a whole state as immoral is absurd. That is insulting to the millions of moral christians who go to church, and would easily call themselves followers of Christ.

I will not apologize for refusing to jump on the "I hate California bandwagon". To say they deserve an Earthquake or hurricane sent by our God of love is an insult to the intellect, and fundementally immoral. Get over yourselves.

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There's a fundamental problem that "Bumper" highlights well...it seems within many branches of Christendom that the general response to sin takes one of two forms. It's either "God will destroy those sinners", or else "Those sinners will be left behindTM in the Rapture". Either way, the prevailing thought seems to be "You're a damned sinner marked for death, not like me!". This is especially true, it seems, in regards to sexual sinners...for such sins, Christians of the sort prone to saying such things tend to haul out a special brand of neurosis.

Which, of course, is a fundamentally un-Christian way to think.

If you've ever had the (mis?)fortune to debate a fundigelical Protestant on the topic of sexual sin, you'll probably have had 1 Corinthians 6:9 thrown in your face as proof that, for example, homosexuals are damned to Hell, and that's that. And indeed, most translations of the Bible have something like this for that passage:

Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? DO not be deceived: neither the immoral*, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor homosexuals**

Of course, the passage truncates after the word "homosexuals"...one of the many reasons why "cherry-picking" from the Bible is dangerous at best, and foolish as well. The passage goes on to say, in verses 10 and 11:

...not theives, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor robbers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God.

A couple of notes from above:

* The term immoral is thought to refer to fornicators

** The term homosexuals is not a perfect translation from the Greek, and the Greek words used may be better-translated as effeminate or sodomites. The condemnation of Paul is not heaped on those who exhibit homosexual tendencies, but on those who indulge homosexual desires with sexual acts of that nature.

The important thing to remember from the three verses above is that while practicing homosexuals might be included in the list, so are a lot of other categories of sinner, many of which we who might offer condemnation probably fall into in some manner. The passage reminds us that we should be careful of whom we call "sinner", for the same label applies to us. And all of us -- homosexuals included! -- can find justification in Christ, and we are commanded not to forget this.

Unfortunately, sometimes Christians do forget this, and the results are what "Bumper" and I have been railing against in the forum discussion.

Proper Christian reponse to sexual sin

Pope John Paul II was revolutionary when began delivering his lectures on the theology of the body, which were a huge step beyond the theology about the body that can be found in Scripture. Keep in mind -- theology of the body does not replace Scriptural teaching, but rather complements it, expands it, and applies it to the human condition directly. The fundamental understanding that underpins theology of the body is that Christ became Incarnate, became fully human, and so shared in the experience of the body. And because of that, we know -- know for certain -- that the body is, as with all Creation, a "very good" creation of God. The Incarnation would not have happened if this had not been true.

Right there, we have to stop and disclaim that most fundigelical Protestants won't be able to understand the rest of the concept of body theology, because many of them accept the erroneous teaching that humanity has two natures, a sinful nature and a divine nature. The body, of course, is regarded as inherently sinful.

That this contradicts the revelation of the Incarnation apparently never occurs to them.

But the truth is, the body is indeed holy -- in fact, it is a temple, as St. Paul teaches us. And what is more, we should not be afraid of the body, or indeed of its desires. Which brings us back to 1 Corinthians 6:9 -- it is not that homosexual tendencies are sinful, or that the natural desires one might have as a result are sinful. What is sinful is certain forms of their expression. The same is true for heterosexuals regarding the sin of fornication: it is normal to have desires, but (since we are limiting our example to those not yet married) it is sinful to act on them in certain ways.

The same is true of the situation in California.

God created us naked, after all — clothing is 100% man-made. And I don't think it's wrong, necessarily, for us to look on the body as something beautiful. As a "very good" creation of God, it is something beautiful.

That said, I think there needs to be a clear delineation between moral and immoral, because the body is a temple of the Lord, and we should not defile it or abuse it. So taking as an example the Sushi restaurant, I don't necessarily think there's anything wrong with the nudity, because it's not intended to be an actively sexual thing, but I think there is something very wrong with using a woman as a table or a dinner plate...because that both disrespects her body for what it properly is (a temple), and disrespects her as well (for is she not so much more than a dinner plate?).

The thing is, the disrespect that is heaped on the woman because she is being used as a table (an object, basically) is independent of her nudity, and would be just as wrong if she were wearing a full-length robe.

Now, in all fairness, there is also the fact that nudity of another person could serve as a temptation to others, but there's a question then of intentionality. If the woman is nude specifically because she desires to arouse passion in another, that might be a sin (depends on whether she's with her husband or not, I suppose), but if she is nude simply because she is not afraid of the beauty (abstractly speaking) of her body, then that is not necessarily a sin — if anything, it praises God's work of creation. Likewise the patrons of the restaurant: if they're there because it's arousing, that's sinful, as it is lustful. But if they are there in appreciation of beauty, it isn't necessarily a sin at all.

In the end, though, the proper Christian response to what sinfulness exists in these situations in California is not to simply articulate a desire for "God's destructive justice" upon the sinful, for the same reasons that were discussed earlier (again in relation to the passage from Corinthians): if we desire that the sinners in California be wiped out, should we not also desire that the sinners who stare back at us from the mirror also be wiped out, for the same reason of being a sinner?

We're within our right to call a sin a sin when it is evident, but not at the expense of denying our own sins in the process. And at any rate, in all such cases, our focus should not be on wrath and vengeance, but on redemption and the justification Christ has won. There are exceptions -- just war doctrine exists for those reasons -- but in general, we are not people of the sword; we are people of salvation. And we would do well to never forget that.

Comparison and contrast

If, for some reason, we do forget that, and if for some reason we -- as Christians -- begin to call for wrath and vengeance to be poured out on the sinners, who then do we begin to sound like?

I'll give you a hint -- I made some desktop images and t-shirts because of them.

As I mentioned before, many Christians seem to exhibit a certain neurosis where sexuality is concerned. This peaked, I think, during the Victorian era (when even pianos were forbidden to have uncovered legs!), although it persists to this day and age. Don't believe me? Next time you're at church -- especially if you're Catholic -- try and sit near a group of elderly parishoners, and when it comes time to offer the sign of peace, give your spouse or signifigant other a lengthy kiss on the lips. See if you get a reaction from the onlookers.

There was, and is, a good reason for this neurosis -- as Christians, we do want to encourage sexual purity and self-control. And taking pains to remove all sources of temptation, even down to wearing little white gloves while shaking another's hand (yes, I know people who've seen that happen in Mass) is a very active prevention method. But it is also neurotic: it is excessive, and it is motivated not by a genuine respect for the body or for sexuality, but by fear of those things.

It's the same fear that underpins the theology of Islam, resulting in extreme examples such as this one:

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Imagine a husband and wife who have lived together as complete strangers for half a century.

Believe it or not, it actually happens here in Saudi Arabia. There are husbands, brothers and sons who have never seen the faces of their own wives, sisters and mothers let alone cousins and aunts. There are wives who never showed their faces to their husbands since they have tied the knot a long or short time ago.

Children should wonder how their parents managed to conceive them when their fathers never saw their mothers. But that s probably just as well because, like their fathers, they haven t seen what their own mothers look like.

This tradition has been part of my life since the day I opened my eyes on the world, she said. Believe it or not, I have never seen the faces of even my closest female relatives my cousins and aunts.

She said every member of her tribe believes it is a great shame for women to uncover their faces at any time, thus there is no chance for a female face to be seen by anyone.

She said she only uncovers her face in total privacy, after she makes sure her husband and children are out of the house.

Only then I can feel free to change my clothes and remove my veil, she said. One day I walked over to the living room with my face uncovered. I never knew my husband was sitting there watching the TV. He saw my face.

She said her husband screamed when he saw her without a veil.

I ran to my room and I locked myself up for several hours. When I came out, he was very angry at me.

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Have a read of the article -- Alhamedi's commentary on the absurdity of the above is absolutely priceless. Especially: "Children should wonder? I've always had a little trouble with this concept myself. How do you show affection to someone who's always veiled, how do you share those little intimacies, how do you procreate? Perhaps there are people who would get a bit of a thrill from making love to a veiled woman, but after a few decades it's bound to pall. Let's change the subject."

If you think about it, the example above (from Qassim, Saudi Arabia) is basically the ultimate extent of that same neurosis that the forum-dwelling Christians exhibit. So much fear is felt towards the body, and towards sexuality, that it inspires the oddest behaviours possible: in an effort to try and respect the body, greater disrespect is done to the body. In an effort to avoid temptation, the whole person is avoided. And ultimately -- and this is perhaps especially true in Islam (see here and here) -- this neurosis motivates the strangest possible behaviours, and can ultimately morph fear of the body into violence against the body, and against others as well. The plight of the Muslim male -- sexual repression on a scale unimagined in even the darkest moments of Christianity -- gives rise to the perfect conditions for temptation to take hold: the promise of 72 willing virgins in Paradise has been more than enough to entice many young men into Semtex overcoats. What's more, it leads to a need for cathartic release, which is easily satisfied by burning an effigy of Ronald McDonald in order to protest the publishing of cartoons.

We don't have to fear the body, and in fact we should not fear the body. Because the moment we do, we are one step further down the road to one day "wrapping the foil" ourselves. Of course, we should respect the body, for it is the Lord's temple, and we should not defile it with substances or sexual practices that do not respect it or carry the proper commitment behind them. But there is a huge gulf between that observation and the burqa...or even between that observation and fundigelical Prostantism's "sinful nature" theology.

...and the pictures can be found on my blog.

Cheers!

Papal infallibility.

A lot of the Protestants I talk with on the Gamespot Christian Union forum seem to...well...they just don't understand the concept at all. And to be honest, that comes as no surprise. Many Catholics don't really understand the concept of infallibility, and in particular that it is such a limited thing.

That is to say: the Pope can't just look up at the sky and call it green, when clearly it is blue. The Pope is not being infallible there, he's being a dork. And we Catholics would probably call him a dork as well for doing so.

Infallibility is more limited than that. In fact, it is so limited, that it even takes on one of those characteristic Catholic "quirks" that crop up once in a while. Consider:

The Pope's words are infallible in only certain specific situations.

The Bishop of Rome's words are not infallible, not ever.

And yet, they are the same person, the Pope and the Bishop of Rome.

But jest aside, it is perhaps best that we start looking at infallibility in the Papacy by looking at something entirely different to begin with. Mark Shea, with his typical incisiveness, chronicles his encounters, from his younger, non-believing days, with Christian moral principle, making the particular observation that "[w]hatever may be wrong with Christians (of whatever stripe) at any rate their insistence on revealed inviolable truth had landed even the least of them on their feet... They may believe in a goofy and harmless six day creationism, but by God they are not such fools as to prostitute themselves to the "Might Makes Right" philosophy which much of the academy, claiming to be wise, now fondly embraces. Fools that Christians were, they had not the "sophistication" (nor the permission of Almighty God) to define all relationships as power plays and call Good "whatever wins." Indeed, these glorious fools still say and think that Auschwitz was simply evil and cannot be "contextualized" out of the pit of Hell. They still believe in and practice love (that great 60s buzzword) as a thing in accord, not with "good vibes," but with God's eternal and unchanging will. Love--painful, sacrificing, ecstatic and wonderfully co-dependent--is still in fashion for them. For it is no fashion but a command.". And in the middle of this revelation, he found a paradox: "So I was confronted with the strange paradox of "dogmatic" Christian (and especially Catholic) theology salvaging my secular education's own best treasures while secularism went a-whoring after power. I wondered why.".

G.K. Chesterton, a man of unappreciated brilliance, once wrote (and Shea cites him on this), that "the modern world, with its modern movements, is living on its Catholic capital. It is using, and using up, the truths that remain to it out of the old treasury of Christendom.". That is to say, the fundamental progression of academic thought in the modern age from the enlightenment of the Rennaissance to the power-focused and censorous sanitization of fell-good relativism is reflective of the way in which much of the Protestant reformation was seen as a sanitization of Catholicism, a retention of what was thought to be "good" and a discarding of what was thought to be "bad". But no truth that came out of the Reformation was a "new" truth -- it had all been discovered years before, and can still be found to be confirmed and enriched in Catholic doctrine (much like many of the truths of academia can still be found in the old principles of the philosophers).

But wheras Protestantism had managed to hold onto those truths, of course, academia had lost its truths in pursuit of the abstract notion of Reason, in the illusion that this was somehow a thing apart from the old truths of faith. But, as Shea notes, "the Enlightened who held a childlike Catholic faith in the validity of Reason were not immortal. For without the safeguard of other Catholic dogmas to balance their faith in materialism they were eventually forced to conclude that reason itself is, at root, simply a function of molecular activity in brain tissue if materialism is the only truth. Thus truth itself became relativized till, by the time I got to high school and college, the shredding of the whole cloth of Catholic truth had resulted in a deeply rooted cultural assumption (180° opposed to the Reformers and their popish opponents) that no one can know truth about anything at all. Even the few old fashioned ideologues (such as Carl Sagan) with a 19th century faith in atheistic rationalism are starting to look rather antique, for they have largely been replaced in the academy by new-fashioned ideologues with an even stronger faith in atheistic irrationalism.

Yet trendy irrationalism is hopeless too. For "no truth" means, in real life, "no way of saying it's wrong to shoot someone for a pair of Nikes." There is no way to write coherent laws to punish unpleasant people like child pornographers (Next on Geraldo: "Kidpornos: Bottom Feeding Scum or Cutting Edge Artists?") There's no way you can speak with anyone about anything coherently. So when Rationalism is sacrificed on the altar of "Revolt Against Religious Dogma" by its usurping bastard Irrationalism there is only one option left: the worship of power which now grips the liberal academy (and will, I fear, soon grip our culture as a whole).

In contrast, to all this the Magisterium states there is such a thing as truth possessing a real shape and texture. The Church dares to say definitely "You cannot believe whatever you like and call it true since truth is from God, not created by humans. You cannot deny the Trinity and call it 'alternative Christianity.' You cannot practice witchcraft and declare it to be 'diversity in the Body of Christ.' You cannot write the Book of Mormon and reconcile it with Scripture. You cannot interpret the Bible privately. You cannot pass laws that declare black white by main force. You cannot run a nation--even a secular one--on terms which defy the will of God in Christ."

The Church says this because she still quite scandalously claims that she is, by direct apostolic succession from Christ Himself, the pillar and foundation of the truth (as Paul says in 1 Timothy 3:15) and that she is therefore competent to speak truth to the nations.".

So when someone asks how we Catholics can be sure that when the Pope speaks in a situation befitting infallibility (i.e. statements of doctrine made ex cathedra, but we are coming to explore that more in a moment), the first reason is that he is, as the head of the Church, speaking in direct apostolic succession from Christ, and as such is speaking as a pillar and foundation of truth, in keeping with the teachings of St. Paul.

But that is only where the reality begins. Where it ends is something totally different. For as Shea notes yet again, "unlike the rigid ideologies which are coming to dominate the culture, the supreme irony is that infallibility does not mean never having to say you're sorry. For the gift of infallibility necessarily implies that the Church receiving it needs it. It is because those Borgia Popes, pedophile priests, radical nuns (and worst of all, because people like me) fail in their individual lives to obey that which the Spirit infallibly reveals through the Church that the Church must be supported by Christ at every step or she is ruined. That's the point of all those Acts of Contrition. Not exactly prideful--especially in contrast to the arrogant noise from the academy that all is Race War, Class War and Gender War (accompanied by threats against chattel students who dare to differ). In comparison to these snarls from elitists in the Vanguard of History, the Church's claim of infallibility is refreshingly humble and hopeful. For it is just another way of expressing confidence in Christ's promise to guide us none-too-bright sheep into truth, freedom and love "even unto the end of the age.".

And so the second reason why we believe that the Pope is saying God's will in those infallible situations (however rare, I cannot stress enough), is that we need those statements to be from God, because we are a church of human beings (as all churches are), and we fail and fall into sin time and again. If Christ is not inspiring us at every stage, we have only our human selves...and we are lost.

But let's take a look for a moment at the actual doctrine surrounding infallibility. Within the Catechism of the Catholic Church, infallibility is definied as "the gift of the Holy Spirit to the Church whereby the pastors of the Church, the pope and the bishops in union with him can definitively proclaim a doctrine of faith or morals for the belief of the faithful. This gift is related to the inability of the whole body of the faithful to err in matters of faith and morals.

Two articles of the Catechism add to this definition:

889 In order to preserve the Church in the purity of the faith handed on by the apostles, Christ who is the Truth willed to confer on her a share in his own infallibility. By a "supernatural sense of faith" the People of God, under the guidance of the Church's living Magisterium, "unfailingly adheres to this faith."

890 The mission of the Magisterium is linked to the definitive nature of the covenant established by God with his people in Christ. It is this Magisterium's task to preserve God's people from deviations and defections and to guarantee them the objective possibility of professing the true faith without error. Thus, the pastoral duty of the Magisterium is aimed at seeing to it that the People of God abides in the truth that liberates. To fulfill this service, Christ endowed the Church's shepherds with the charism of infallibility in matters of faith and morals. the exercise of this charism takes several forms:

891 "The Roman Pontiff, head of the college of bishops, enjoys this infallibility in virtue of his office, when, as supreme pastor and teacher of all the faithful - who confirms his brethren in the faith he proclaims by a definitive act a doctrine pertaining to faith or morals.... the infallibility promised to the Church is also present in the body of bishops when, together with Peter's successor, they exercise the supreme Magisterium," above all in an Ecumenical Council. When the Church through its supreme Magisterium proposes a doctrine "for belief as being divinely revealed," and as the teaching of Christ, the definitions "must be adhered to with the obedience of faith." This infallibility extends as far as the deposit of divine Revelation itself.

Now, what we can draw from this are several observations. For one, the above passages confirm what Shea had observed earlier...that the Church, in apostolic succession from Christ, is given a share in Christ's own infallibility and grace, for the preservation and guidance of the Church through the workings of the Holy Spirit. As such, as was noted by St. Paul in the letter to Timothy, this gives the Church the ability to speak in capacity as a pillar of truth and revelation from God -- in essence, this is how the Church derives moral authority.

But we can also observe that infallibility is limited. It doesn't apply except when the Pope is making a statement on a definitive act of doctrine pertaining to faith or morals (such as the Assumption of Mary, or that procurement or administration of abortion is a sufficiently grave moral evil that any Catholic who engages in the act receives an automatic excommunication without need for official declaration). And what is more, it doesn't apply when the Pope is making a statement on his own -- infallibility is not the Pope's personal playground, for it applies also to the Magisterium (the teaching office of the Church, the bishops), and in fact it is the Magisterium's task to oversee those articles of doctrine that are ultimately put forth ex cathedra (i.e. from the Papal seat, which is the only place infallible statements can be delivered from).

So the final reason, and the most important reason, why Catholics believe that the Pope, in those rare times when he speaks with infallibility, is actually speaking God's true will, is because this is what the Spirit has bestowed on the Church, and through the office of the Magisterium and through all Catholics everywhere the Spirit watches over what is said, guides what is taught, and ensures that nothing is spoken as a binding article of faith that is contrary to God's plan for humanity, or contrary to God's truth.

In the discussion on the Rosary, a lot of people seem to...well...downplay the role of Mary in God's plan for the salvation of humanity. Many here seem to think that Mary was just some girl who carried Christ in her womb -- they submit her to a sort of mental reductionism that leaves her as just another human girl whose only net value in the greater scheme of things was that she possessed a functional uterus.

Which, of course, not the truth of the matter...indeed, to claim that it is the truth of the matter would seem to be an affront not only to Mary, but to women in general, and to God and His plan for our salvation.

January 1st is, in the Catholic liturgical calendar, the "Feast of Mary, the Mother of God", and it is a time of the year when our thoughts do not turn from Christ, but instead widen to consider also she who was Christ's mother, and those things about her that make her more than just a mere woman, or a walking uterus.

For one, Mary was not just any woman, anymore than the Hebrew people were just one more race of humanity. For as the Hebrew people were, and remain, the first Chosen People of God, so too Mary was was the Chosen One of God -- the one person whom God deemed could be the vessel for His Son, and thus fulfill His plan for our salvation. Through Mary, Jesus -- who, as the Second Person of the Trinity, is one in being with God and is therefore, de facto, God -- was born in human form. But more to it than that, for as Mark Shea notes, through accepting the message of Gabriel, Mary enabled "God [to be] conceived in her womb and thereby made a son of Adam! This means more than merely saying that Mary was an incubator unit for the Incarnation. It means that the Logos, the Second Person of the Trinity derives his humanity--all of it--from her!"

In this sense, Mary became, for a time, the host and container of God, God's plan for our salvation, and God's New Covenant with us in the person of Jesus Christ. In that sense, Mary became the New Ark. Why does that matter, you might ask? "Because the entire reason we are able to call Jesus "savior" at all is because the God who cannot die became a man who could die. And he chose to do it through Mary's free "yes" to him. No Mary, no human nature for Christ. No human nature for Christ, no death on the cross. No death, no resurrection. No resurrection, no salvation. Without Mary, we are still in our sins."

Jesus did not just "put on" the skin of man as one puts on a suit, nor did Jesus possess a man, taking control of another person's corporeal being. God, in the person of Christ, became human, and did so for all eternity. In being joined to us all as our saviour for all eternity, his birth made Mary the mother of us all (in keeping with John 19:27, when Christ from His Cross ordained Mary as the mother of the unnamed "beloved" apostle). For we are all the beloved of Christ. "Moreover," notes Shea, "it means that her remarkable choice to say "Yes" to the Incarnation was not merely a one-time incident, it was an offering of her own heart to God and us. Her heart was pierced by the sword that opened the fountain of blood and water in Christ's human heart, for it was she who, by the grace of God, gave him that heart (Luke 2:35; John 19:34)."

We know the most about Mary from the Gospel of St. Luke, who tells many details about her to us -- the meeting with Gabriel, the revelation about Elizabeth, the meeting with Elizabeth. We also know a little about Mary from the Gospel of St. John, especially in his re-telling of Christ's Passion and death on the Cross. In both these situations, Mary is regarded with reverence by all around her.

It's been said in one discussion in this forum that Catholics honour Mary "too much", but that charge has a flip-side, for if Mary can be honoured "too much", then she can also be honoured "too little". Yesterday was the liturgical feast day commemorating Mary's saying "yes", and her motherhood of our saviour, Jesus Christ. Who here spared a thought for the Blessed Virgin?

Because if one reads carefully, one notes that Mary herself remarks that "henceforth, all generations will call me blessed" (Luke 1:48 ). "Judging from the witness of the early Fathers and even of Martin Luther (who had a very robust Marian devotion and whose tomb is decorated with an illustration of the Assumption of the Virgin into Heaven) it seemed to me that it was we Evangelicals who were excessive in our fear of her rather than Catholics who were excessive in their devotion."

It seems to me, then, that the discussions over Marian devotion and the Rosary are not one of whether Catholics do too much of it, but whether non-Catholics do too little of it. Mary was not just some random woman, she was the woman chosen by God (no other would do). She did not just carry Jesus, she gave to Him his human form, his beating heart, because of her own humanity. And she did not die -- even Martin Luther believed in her Assumption into Heaven.

So in that spirit, I offer this simple devotion, and I invite all of you to take part in your own ways, and with your own reflections.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou amongst women,
and Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus

Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners
now and at the hour of our death,

Amen

Interesting new blog out there called Suicide of the West - A continuing chronicle of Western cultural disintegration, as the author styles it.

Today, they posted an interesting list of heresies that have afflicted the Church at one time or another. Have you ever fallen into them? I can think of a couple.

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Adoptionism - God granted Jesus powers and then adopted him as a Son.
Albigenses - Reincarnation and two gods: one good and other evil.
Apollinarianism - Jesus divine will overshadowed and replaced the human.
Arianism - Jesus was a lesser, created being.
Docetism - Jesus was divine, but only seemed to be human.
Donatism - Validity of sacraments depends on character of the minister.
Gnosticism - Dualism of good and bad and special knowledge for salvation.
Kenosis - Jesus gave up some divine attributes while on earth.
Modalism - God is one person in three modes.
Monarchianism - God is one person.
Monophysitism - Jesus had only one nature: divine.
Nestorianism - Jesus was two persons.
Patripassionism - The Father suffered on the cross
Pelagianism - Man is unaffected by the fall and can keep all of God’s laws.
Socinianism - Denial of the Trinity. Jesus is a deified man.
Tritheism - the Trinity is really three separate gods.

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There are a few changes between book and movie in the scenes at this time. For example, the children run out in pursuit of Edmund shortly after they notice him gone (Mr. Beaver's speech about how you can see it in the eyes of a person when they have been in the presence of the White Witch is thus stricken from the dialogue) and thus see him entering her castle from afar before meeting Aslan. This also means that the wolves are in closer pursuit of the group initially, until a fox steers them in the wrong direction. The spell of winter begins to break before the meeting with Aslan also, and the encounter with Father Christmas is moved up accordingly -- fortunately, the gifts are the same. However, unlike in the book, Father Christmas does not tell the two girls to refrain from participating in battle.

Additionally, the pursuit of the wolves culminates in a scene on a river where the ice is melting and breaking off -- it is resolved when the Beavers and the children fall into the water. It is after this point that the spell of winter reverses quickly: flowers bloom on trees, and vines snake up around tree trunks with great speed and energy. By the time the three children reach Aslan's encampment, they don't even need the winter coats they've taken from the wardrobe.

Edmund, meanwhile, meets Mr. Tumnus in prison, and is tormented by the Queen -- she even frees Mr. Tumnus, then tells him that the one who ratted him out was Edmund, after which she turns Mr. Tumnus to stone. She then sets out in the sledge, with Edmund in tow, to track down those who have betrayed her. Instead of finding Christmas revelers, as in the book, her secret police bring the fox to her, and she turns him to stone after Edmund admits what he knows about Aslan (much to the fox's dismay). She then orders her wolves to gather "the faithful" and prepares to go to war.

The three other children, meanwhile, meet with Aslan and discuss Edmund's situation. The scene were Aslan shows Peter Cair Paravel, the capital city of Narnia, is moved to this point, and the ambush by Maugrim on the two girls follows it. Peter rushes in to intervene, and as Aslan subdues the other wolf present, Peter faces off with the lead wolf and ultimately kills him with the sword given by Father Christmas. The other wolf flees. Aslan then orders some of his troops to follow, in order to find and rescue Edmund, which they do. After speaking at length with Aslan, Edmund is forgiven, and is able to rejoin his siblings.

The Queen, in a rage, arrives at Aslan's camp and demands Edmund's blood, payment for treachery according to the ancient ways (all traitors belong to her, according to the Deep Magic of the World). Aslan speaks with her privately, and shortly thereafter emerges to announce that the White Witch has renounced her claim on the boy's blood. As the rest of his army rejoices, Aslan appears sad, and we soon find out why. As Lucy sleeps, she notices Aslan creeping by her tent, and she wakes Susan. The two girls follow him, first at a distance, then walking with him until they reach the Stone Table, at which point Aslan moves along on his own. The girls, of course, follow again, at a distance, and find a place in which to hide as Aslan walks up to the table.

The scene of Aslan's sacrifice is well done, as the followers of the White Witch humiliate and taunt Aslan, beating and binding him, and shaving off his mane. The two girls watch in mounting horror as he is dragged -- painfully -- onto the Stone Table, at which point the witch pronounces that his death will satisfy the Deep Magic, and that Aslan's death is meaningless -- the very next day, she intends to capture Narnia and still kill Edmund.

Once Aslan is slain and morning has come, when the White Witch's followers have moved on to battle, the girls tend to Aslan, and weep over his body. As Aslan's sacifice was representative of Christ's crucifixion and death, so too is this moment of the film representative of the way in which Mary Madgalene and the other women in the Gospels tended for the body of their fallen Lord. The scene is tender and sad, as the two girls struggle to understand why what has happened has had to happen. And their despair that Aslan is well and truly dead is evident -- another departure from the book is that they contrive to warn Aslan's army of his fall by having the trees relay the message. This in turn puts Peter in the awkward position of having to command the army, with the help of a new character -- the satyr general Oreius.

(As a side note, watch the scene with Peter peering at the map closely. The zoom/cross-fade that shifts the view to that of the battle is amazingly well done, putting to shame Peter Jackson's map views in Lord of the Rings.)

The battle, in the book, consumes only a couple of pages, while in the movie it consumes close to half an hour. But that's okay -- the way that Adamson has set things up, it fits. The Queen and her army line up against Peter's army as a gryphon (pictured) arrives to report that the Queen has better numbers and weapons that the satyrs, fauns, and various other creatures at Peter's command. Oreius is confident that "numbers do not win a battle", but Peter is more realist: "no, but I bet they help." I have to rave about the gryphon -- the creature effects in this movie were, for the most part, astounding (the fox and some of the wolves were a little under par), but the gryphon was outstanding. My jaw dropped when I saw it, and one or two of the other people I was with went wide-eyed and wide-jawed too.

Here are a few other stills from the battle sequence:

And yes, Peter Jackson's "Massiv" software makes another appearence here, giving surreal life to thousands upon thousands of creatures on the battlefield, and in the air above it. Gryphons swoop from the sky to dive-bomb the advancing army of the White Witch with rocks and boulders. Satrys charge into hordes of minotaurs. A phoenix blazes a trail of fire across the battlefield to slow the charge of the White Witch's second column of troops. The Narnians find themselves overwhelmed, and they retreat before the onslaught of the White Witch and her wand that freezes her opponents in stone.

Meanwhile, at the Stone Table, the girls finally decide to leave, having wept over the fallen Aslan for much of the day. As they go, the Stone Table cracks, and they turn back to see that Aslan has disappeared. As they exclaim in horror, Aslan reappears to them, in full splendour.

For me, the most important concept that the movie would have had to communicate in order to preserve its Christian meaning was Aslan's explanation for how it is that he is alive again, observing that if only the White Witch "would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward." This line is recited verbatim, much to my delight. Aslan then tells the two girls to climb on his back and hold on, and with God-like speed (hah! pun!) he races cross-country to the castle of the White Witch, where many hundreds of Narnian soldiers are frozen in stone, including Mr. Tumnus. Aslan begins to free them with his breath, and a tearful Mr. Tumnus is reunited with Lucy and introduced to Susan. In the book, this scene was quite lengthy, though in the movie is is quite brief, with more screen time having been given to the battle.

The battle, of course, is going poorly. The Narnians have retreated to nearby rocks, and are falling to the White Witch's army (and her wand) one by one. Peter's steed -- a unicorn -- is felled by an arrow, and General Oreius sacrifices himself in a headlong charge at the White Witch in order to give him time to escape. Peter and the Narnians fight valiantly, but the enemy are too many, and the White Witch too powerful. Peter orders Edmund to retreat with the column of troops he is leading, but Edmund instead turns and strikes as the White Witch moves past him. He breaks her wand, and is stabbed for his trouble and felled.

Peter launches into a headlong charge toward the White Witch, and the two duel furiously. It appears that the White Witch is the superior swordsman, but just as she seems poised to gain the upper hand, Aslan and his reinforcements arrive, and the White Witch is astounded -- how can the lion be alive? Fresh Narnian troops rush into the battlefield, and Aslan kills the White Witch. One extra addition that is not in the book is the point where Susan actually puts her bow and arrows to work, shooting the White Witch's dwarf companion as he is about to finish off Edmund. Lucy, having been given a healing potion by Father Christmas, gives the wounded Edmund a drop, and when he recovers she begins to administer the potion to others among the wounded, as Aslan sets about freeing other Narnians from their stone entrapment.

The ceremony where the children are crowned is quite short, although I did like how another important verse from the book was worked in. In the book, Mr. Beaver was supposed to explain that Aslan was "not a tame lion", and in the movie this role falls to Mr. Tumnus, talking on the balcony with Lucy as she watches Aslan depart over the sandy beach below the castle. Fortunately, the scene is touching, and it works very well.

Not much detail is given about the life of the children in Narnia, and I think some more could have been, and perhaps should have been. It's a minor quibble, but after the crowning ceremony (in which the children are given their honourifics from the get-go, a consequence of the condensed ending) the movie cuts right to the chase of the white stag, with the four grown children riding through Narnia. Edmund's horse grows weary near a familiar place -- the old lamppost.

(This is why I would have liked to see more detail about the later years of the children in Narnia included in the movie, because in the book it comes to pass that they forget about the wardrobe over the span of years following their victory. In the movie, they seem to have more suddenly forgotten.)

Regardless, Lucy again takes the lead, rushing through the trees pursued by her siblings, and suddenly all four of them tumble out of the wardrobe, restored to their youth and wearing the clothes they had left Earth in. To them, almost a lifetime has passed, but on Earth it is only a few seconds later, and the footsteps that were in pursuit of them are outside the door to the room. But it is not Mrs. Macready that barges in -- instead, it is Professor Kirke, who is thrilled to hear that they have all been to Narnia.

Adamson pulls one final editing trick, fading out to credits at this point, but after the cast is listed, the movie resumes for a moment, with Lucy sneaking back into the wardrobe room to see if she can get to Narnia again. Professor Kirke is waiting there, and tells her then that the doorway that was in the wardrobe has ceased to function, and will not open again. The dialogue is from the book, but the scene is different.

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End spoilers

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There were a few technical gaffes in the movie -- some of the green-screening was a little bit sub-par, as I believe I've said. However, the creature effects were consistently gorgeous, and the story was basically retold in its entirety (with a few omissions, and a few rearrangements, neither of which really detract from it). Andrew Adamson did not, as director, have it as a goal to highlight the Christian symbolism of the book directly, but the symbolism is definitely there, and it is powerful. At several times during the movie, I found myself wiping away tears -- many of its scenes are quite moving and powerful. And Harry Gregson-Williams' soundtrack is wonderful.

All in all, it's a stunning movie. Not perfect, of course, and yet somehow just right. Go and see it -- you will not be disappointed...

UPDATE: ...although you just might find it to be not as stunning as I did.  It's a very subtle movie, and one thing I'm noticing among the other bloggers (and I think my friend Paul, in his comment below, may have noticed the same thing) is a tendency to question "why" at the events in the movie...especially pertaining to Aslan's sacrifice.  "Why did he have to sacrifice himself for Edmund"?  All of these people, of course, know the story, and the reasons, but feel these were not well portrayed in the movie.

I just happen to disagree, but perhaps I should clarify.

The movie does address this, but it does so in a very roundabout way, and never states it explicitly...a very tender appreciation for metaphor and implication is necessary to fully catch the meaning.  Once Edmund has been rescued and has spoken with Aslan, Aslan returns him to his waiting siblings and tells them not to mention the past events to him -- what has been done has been done.  That's definitely the attitude of forgiveness, and I could see in the scene an appreciation for the Catholic understanding of sin and redemption: though forgiven, the pain of what he has done lingers on in Edmund's heart, and it still has its effects on him -- he cowers in the presence of the White Witch when she comes to claim him, and only later musters the courage to confront her in battle.

When the White Witch does arrive to stake her claim on Edmund's blood, she and Aslan do talk, and Aslan emerges from the tent after a time and announces that the White Witch has renounced her claim on Edmund's blood. But from the dialogue that comes before this announcement, it is made clear that the Deep Magic must be satisfied with the spilling of blood. Aslan's sorrowful expression as his army rejoices at the good news communicates the reality of what is about to happen, as do the events that soon follow -- Aslan has clearly traded his life for Edmund's. And I thought the reason why was made clear in all the points addressed up to this point, and of course by Aslan's explanation after his resurrection -- the White Witch thought she would triumph by slaying Aslan and fulfill the demands of the Deep Magic, but she did not understand what the fulfillment of that Deep Magic would mean. Think of Satan in The Passion of the Christ for an example -- there too, it was understood that Jesus had to die to fulfill the Old Law and the prophecy, but Satan did not understand what form that fulfillment would taken, and indeed actively denied that Jesus could die for all sins. So too the White Witch in Chronicles.  Of course, in the end of both films, the evil one is left defeated and ruined for their ignorance.

So as an update, I should clarify my prior statement: you will enjoy this movie (unless you are a hopeless purist), but it's definitely the sort of thing that one has to look at with an eye for subtlety and implication. God, as ever, has chosen to remain less than obvious.

It's touch and go whenever Hollywood releases a movie with a strong Christian undertone or premise -- will they botch it, or won't they? Could go either way. Certainly, the director -- Andrew Adamson, of Shrek fame -- hadn't intended to focus on the overt Christian aspects of C.S. Lewis' classic work. But then again, it can easily be argued that to remove the most important Christian symbolism from the movie, Edmund would have to not betray his siblings, and Aslan would have to not sacrifice himself.

And if those things don't happen, well...most of the plot just falls apart.

So I was fairly confident when I stepped into the theatre. And I got an added boost when I saw, in the opening credits, that Harry Gregson-Williams had done the soundtrack. I like Gregson-Williams -- his work on the Spy Game soundtrack was as kinetic and intense as Tony Scott's filmmaking style. Gregson-Williams' soundtrack was also about the only decent part of Kingdom of Heaven.

Of course, the credits don't come on the screen until after the opening scene of the movie...

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Spoilers ahead

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The movie opens during the London Blitz, a scene which will right away offend purists (the bombing of London is mentioned -- a single time, on the first page -- in the books, and is not described in detail). The movie just pitches you into the action...the Walden Media logo fades into the clouds, and then the airplanes loom into view. And yet, the scene is short, perhaps three minutes in length. And it establishes early on the tension between Edmund and his older brother Peter, and his motive for rebellion and bitterness (the childrens' father is away at war, which Edmund resents).

And then just like that, they are in the train station. The initial pace of the movie is very quick. The attention to historical detail is commendable -- propaganda adorns the walls, there is an air of sadness and desperation (and yet also resolve). The children are "labelled" and embraced by their mother as they board the train, and then they are shipped off to the countryside where they are, at length, met by the stern Mrs. Macready. She tours them through the country mansion of Professor Kirke, barking strict instructions devoid of emotion. Fortunately, however, she's not overused, and doesn't become an annoyance. Still, the fear she instills in the children is palpable, and they refer to her as "the Macready".

One noteable change between the book and movie is how Lucy, the youngest, finds the wardrobe and the passage to Narnia. In the book, the four children did a little exploring of their own, and found the wardrobe as a group. Lucy lingers behind and opens it, finding the passage to the forest inside. Edmund finds the passage to Narnia later on, during a game of hide and seek.

In the movie, the children are left to their own devices for a while, and instead of playing a game involving a dictionary (what? I'd find it fun for a while!), they are talked into hide-and-seek by little Lucy. She finds the wardrobe as she scrambles to hide, after her first chosen place is stolen by Edmund (and yes, even the mothballs make an appearence).

Adamson is a good director, especially where children are concerned, and in order to get the best response of wonder and awe out of Georgie Henley (who plays Lucy), he had her brought onto the set for the winter forest blindfolded, and then recorded her reaction once she could take in the world he had created. It conveys almost perfectly the youthful awe and amazement as she stares at the snow-covered land she has entered.

I have to say, also, that the snow effects were very top-notch -- the falling flakes, and the way the snow on the ground behaved when the cast interacted with it, seemed very real to me, reminding me of exactly how snow tends to fall on a moderately cold (-5 C, maybe) day in late February when the humidity has crept up just a little bit. Lucy wanders for a short while through the snow before finding an odd curiousity -- Henley plays the part very well here, too (kudos to her and her acting coach!) -- in the form of an English street-corner lamp post.

Of course, Lucy meets Mr. Tumnus, the faun, and the two frighten each other. In the end, of course, Lucy's innocence and kind heart win Tumnus over, though he is shocked to learn that she is actually a human (or a 'Daughter of Eve', as the Narnian term goes), and he invites her back to his home for tea. Another slight difference between movie and book is the dialogue between them -- Tumnus responds to Lucy's mention that her father has gone off to war with the news that his own father once went to war as well. Of course, Mr. Tumnus is in fact kidnapping Lucy, and he plays a tune for her on his panpipes that put her to sleep (and, in another departure from the books, conjure images in the flames of his fireplace of Narnian creatures, ending with a burst of fire in the image of Aslan, roaring and dousing all flame in the room).

Lucy awakes to find Mr. Tumnus crying because of his treachery -- he is in the employ of the White Witch, and is obligated to turn over to her any 'Son of Adam' or 'Daughter of Eve' he encounters. He reveals that it is the witch who is responsible for the 100 year winter that has taken over Narnia, and that Christmas has not come for the duration of that century ("Always winter, never Christmas"...sounds like most Canadian shopping malls). She gives him her handkerchief, for he has been crying. He decides that he can't hand Lucy over to the witch, and instead escorts her back to the lamppost, where she finds her way back to the wardrobe. She has been in Narnia for several hours, and she is thus confused to find upon her return to Earth that she has been gone for only a few seconds, if that.

The other children do not believe her tales of another land inside the wardrobe -- their inspection reveals only a wooden back to the cabinet -- and Edmund teases Lucy about her "discovery".

As mentioned above, Edmund finds the way to Narnia differently in the movie than in the book, but it works well given the setup that Adamson has crafted. Lucy awakes late at night and sneaks back to the wardrobe, and finds the portal to Narnia open therein. Edmund, however, has followed her, and he too enters Narnia, though he does not catch sight of Lucy. In his wanderings, he encounters instead the White Witch on her sledge, and her dwarf companion (who kinda looks like the guy who played the Oompa-Loompas in the remake of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory).

The White Witch -- portraying herself as the Queen of Narnia -- talks with Edmund, and gets him to admit that he is human, and that he has siblings. She tempts him first with a warm drink, and then grants his request for Turkish Delight (a form of chewy candy covered in powdered sugar) as she plies him for information. There is a subtle but palpable erotic tension to the scene -- something that Lewis' own writing includes, mind you -- that really makes the scene much more effective. Tilda Swinton (the White Witch) is an excellent actress, and the way her voice and mannerisms convey temptation on all levels is exceptional. One cannot help but get the sense that this lady is dangerous. Of course, Edmund gives away some of the details that Lucy has told her siblings about her first trip to Narnia -- in particular, he mentions Mr. Tumnus.

The White Witch asks to meet all of Edmund's siblings, and then lets him go on his way. Lucy finds him shortly afterward, and is overjoyed to see him, although he is apprehensive when she starts talking about the White Witch (who he thinks is the Queen of Narnia, remember) and how she falsely calls herself 'Queen'. The two return to Earth through the wardrobe, and Lucy is overjoyed to tell her siblings that she has been to Narnia again, and that Edmund was a witness. Edmund, however, betrays her, and apologizes to his older sister and brother for "playing along" with Lucy's fantasies. Crying, Lucy retreats out into the hall, and straight into the arms of the Professor. After partly resolving the situation, the Professor takes Susan (the older sister) and Peter into his study and talks with them. When he hears about the portal to Narnia in the wardrobe, he questions why the children did not believe their sister, and makes it clear that he does.

In the book, the four children all stumble into Narnia after they hide in the wardrobe to avoid being seen by guests that Mrs. Macready is showing around the house. In the movie, the children are playing cricket, and Edmund slams a ball through a window, toppling a suit of armour inside the mansion. As the children survey the damage, they hear footsteps approaching, which they assume to be Mrs. Macready, and they flee upstairs and hide in the wardrobe. Lucy is anxious to introduce Mr. Tumnus, but they find his house broken into and ransacked -- the White Witch's secret police have taken him away for high treason.

As the group leave the home, they meet Mr. Beaver, who gives Lucy back the handkerchief she had given to Mr. Tumnus, and he explains that he has been taken. When the children ask if Tumnus is all right, Mr. Beaver leads them back to his lodge, where Mrs. Beaver is waiting. The two beavers provide some pleasant, but not overdone, comic relief, alternately bickering and then complementing each other as only an English couple of times past can. Mr. Beaver is incredulous when the children admit complete ignorance of anything he is talking about when he starts mentioning prophecies and thrones, and so he explains in further detail the prophecy that states that two 'Sons of Adam' and two 'Daughters of Eve' will help Aslan, the great lion, overthrow the White Witch. He doesn't tell her about Aslan at this time, however.

I like the scene when Mr. Beaver first mentions Aslan, because the reaction of the children is so perfect. Edmund is spiteful and resentful, as only a sinner can be at the mention of Christ. The other three -- Lucy, Susan, and Peter -- are in awe and wonderment, as even the mention of Aslan's name can stir such emotions in the righteous. So in awe are they that they don't notice Edmund sneak off to tell the White Witch that his siblings have arrived, and that Aslan is returned. There is a scene in the book where the Queen orders her dwarf to prepare her sledge without bells, so as to sneak up on Aslan and his group near the Stone Table. This is omitted. However, she does still dispatch her secret police (wolves, captained by the fearsome Maugrim) to the beaver lodge to capture the children. She also imprisons Edmund early on, a bit of a change.

To be continued...

Oh, this is too rich. I swear...the next time a Catholic vs. Protestant debate comes up in the forum, I am totally going to have to play off this card.

Can you tell that I don't suffer fools who do nothing with their spare time but think of ways to bad-mouth Catholicism?

From the good folks at Speculative Catholic, with a hat-tip over to Mark Shea:



Too good, too good by half.