Christians and Movies

Recently I had the opportunity to be the roundtable interviewee for Footnotes: Curated Resources for Ministers, a weekly newsletter produced by Harding School of Theology’s theological librarian, Bob Turner. You can find the discussion here (it’s called “Ministers and Movies”). The content is quality; I highly recommend subscribing even if you’re not in ministry.

In the interview, I deal mostly with practical advice for ministers. How should ministers use movies in their work? How should they stop using them? What are some movies that every preacher needs to see? Stuff like that. If you’re interested in that sort of thing, you can go find my answers there.

But for now, I just want to expand a little on my answer to the first question: What role do movies occupy in your faith? My original answer:

The role of movies in my own faith is almost entirely determined by their role in the current culture. At this time, movies represent the most nuanced, multifaceted, and popular art form in the world—rivaled only by the novel. No other medium is able to entertain and influence so many people so easily. For this reason, I watch as both clergy and laity: I watch to understand the world, and I watch as part of the world. 

In the past, I and others have bolstered movies as a sort of transcendental or holy experience, something Christians ought to take part in as we celebrate creation and art. I would still stand by that; there is something profound in all art forms, especially one as immersive as film.

But it may be healthier to step back and recognize the more immediate nature of cinema. At their most fundamental level, movies are for leisure. We watch movies to escape from reality and from work, and we watch them to have fun. That can involve thrills or suspense or jokes or explosions—or just to see a lot of pretty faces for a couple hours—as long as it’s providing a good time. And for the most part, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not crude or philistine to simply watch a movie as an act of leisure.

Another more fundamental aspect of cinema, and what I’m aiming for in my answer above, is to experience alongside others. Over the last fifty years, and really in the last fifteen, a common culture has become increasingly rare outside TV and movies. No longer are we all reading the same news stories or playing the same games. Even our national politics is compartmentalized as the country polarizes. Perhaps the last bastion of shared experience is the theater and the dozen marketed movies that come out over the year. Currently the MCU stands as the prime example of this—something if you turn around during a visit to the DMV, the person behind you is likely to have some exposure to. (Not that I recommend doing that.)

Movies thus act as a societal pulse; they offer an insight into the culture, where it is and where it is going. No other medium can provide as simultaneously subtle and nuanced a portrait of a people’s sensibilities as a film can. Consider both American Beauty and The Matrix, both capturing the existential weariness of the 90s, and the latter even shaping how a generation would wrestle with the hardest questions of philosophy. Though it’s often easier in hindsight, something similar could perhaps be said about how Hell or Highwater and Black Panther encapsulated the milieu of the 2010s. 

There’s no need to stop appreciating the spiritual dimension of cinema, but let’s not forget what it means for everyone, even those with no religious interest. Movies are shared experience; they’re part of what make us just like everyone else.