Farenheit `77

When someone like George Lucas is sitting on top of his own Empire with unfathomable reach, and doesn't need further acclaim for the same exact paths he's already trodded, you would think at some point he must have mulled over his own divided motives on how to approach this last film and complete the circle of absolute power.

Does Lucas stick to polishing up daytime soap material through a reconjuring of the proven visuals of ILM, and thus achieve certain gain without risk? Or will he listen to the Jedi council of conscience and take some hard-earned risks in battles and actually win the hearts and minds of fans, peers, even skeptics?

Unfortunately the Dark side won; the lure of CGI immortality (visual competency) is the black magic that makes the film work just like any other summer blockbuster extravaganza. Even though he's already proven that his fans will show up in droves no matter what kind of tripe he produces, he must also hope that this magic will distract the skeptics enough to forget that he has made a wretched science fiction film. Absolutely wretched. If I were a Star Wars geek, I would call Lucas a traitor.

Think about it: forget all the cheesy dialogue and predictable story (what spoilers are there exactly?). Think about the actual sci fi cosmos portrayed in this film. Nothing was inventive, it's all been done before. There was not a single moment that made me (nor hopefully anyone else) go "Wow, that's clever", is there? Or any sort of evidence of a fertile mind imagining the future benefits and consequences of advancing technology? Nope. But that's the heart of real science fiction isn't it? There must be some risk in proposing an imagined future where, even though it correlates enough with our present time, some inventive elements and creatures could prove to change our way of thinking even in small ways. Lucas has none of that sort of old school Jedi trickery, because he wants to complete his dominion his own way, thinking in the absolutes of proven cinema gimmicks.

Lucas' noisy but empty saga further threatens to destroy whatever is special about the genre of science fiction if he is to be the so-called standard bearer. I don't expect much from hardcore Star Wars fans' reactions, but any true science fiction fan ought to feel not only insulted and cheated but fearful of what kind of damage this whole saga has already and now will continue to perpetuate for the future of science fiction cinema, (especially with the supposed emotional appeal?). I really wonder if he had any ambitions at all for this particular film beyond (A) quickly getting us back to the 1977 disco-era archetypes and (B) the supersaturated metaphors for U.S. politics.

The best scene was in that giant opera arena with those ameoba like globs floating in the center stage. I felt like I was an audience member there watching a representation of the whole film: lots of amorphous Light and Magic and Sound with no substance, no provocations.

The Kingdom

A few weeks back my friend Andrew Matthews posted a critique on his Unpopular Opinions blog of what he perceived to be my view of the church and the kingdom of God. That can be found here. Immediately I was taken aback by some of the conclusions he has drawn from my own statements, but I have not had the time to compose a thorough reply.

For now I can provide a generalized response. First, I detected a false dilemma in his opening statements, for I would characterize my position much stronger than defining the church as believers merely “awaiting the establishment” of the kingdom, unless by that we simply mean that believers await the final visible consummate coming of the kingdom of God.

Which leads me to my primary issue with his piece. When Andrew speaks of the "present church" and "future church", "kingdom of God" etc. I wonder if he is making equivocations with these terms. Throughout his post, it seems at some points he refers to the kingdom as the new heavens and the new earth, and at other points as the elect people of God now in the present creation (in fact he seems to begin this way but then switches its meaning at certain subsequent places).

The most puzzling section was where Andrew concludes that I adhere in principle to a dispensationalist idea of the kingdom.

To be clear, the problem with dispensationalism is not only splitting everyone up into "two peoples" of God with two plans for one salvation, but they do a great disservice to the glory of Christ's work and his fulfillment of the kingdom promises and blessings. While dispensationalists might adhere to the idea that Christ exemplified and demonstrated kingdom promises for the church by way of allegory or metaphor (and not actual fulfillment), traditional covenant theology observes that Christ really and actually fulfilled the promises and secured the blessings given in the Law and the prophets, and he did so on behalf of the elect Bride (all who are called and lay hold of the blessings offered in the covenant of grace, a covenant which continues throughout the Old and New covenants). Unfortunately, dispensationalists will misrepresent this view as “spiritualizing away” all the OT promises, as if we only see this as invisible pie in the sky fulfillment with no bearing on earthly matters. But the bodily resurrection and the new heavens and new earth are far from "spiritualizing away" all the OT promises. It is the culmination of the Law and the Prophets: the coming of Christ and his kingdom.

Andrew is obviously referring to dispensationalism's concept of the Jews as the "earthly" people of God and Gentile church as the "spiritual/heavenly" people of God. That he sees a similar principle at work in my writings shows that he misunderstands me. Covenant theology has always allowed for distinction between the visible church and invisible church (the latter being only the elect and the former including non-elect) as this has always been featured in its more robust "kingdom" theology in contrast to dispensationalism. The single kingdom of God (eschatological, heavenly) comes in various administrations (visible).