Irvin Kershner and The Empire Strikes Back … and Harry Potter

SDG here (NOT Jimmy!) with a rare foray from guest-blogging limbo.

I’ve been more than usually busy and had no time to hang out here at JA.o, but I always hope I’ll be back here.

This morning I woke up and read that Irvin Kershner had died, and that seemed to me reason enough.

Why? Because Kershner is best known as the director of The Empire Strikes Back, and it happens that I’ve spent a lot of time recently thinking at length about what a great film The Empire Strikes Back is.

In fact, on Friday I blogged at NCRegister.com on the greatness of The Empire Strikes Back as well as the virtues of another middle film, Peter Jackson’s The Two Towers — in contrast to another penultimate film now in theaters, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1. My piece is called “Harry Potter’s Empire Strikes Back? Don’t Make Me Laugh – 12 reasons why Deathly Hallows: Part 1 is no Empire Strikes Back … or even The Two Towers.”

See, it seems that Deathly Hallows: Part 1 has been racking up critical and fan comparisons to The Empire Strikes Back. Like Kershner’s film, it’s a dark, penultinate film with an ambiguous ending, setting up the triumphant finale.

Now, in a way The Empire Strikes Back invites this sort of comparison, not only because it’s a great film — the best of all the Star Wars films — but also because it’s an archetypally great sequel; the sort of sequel that all sequels want to be, but precious few even approach. It builds on the first film but goes beyond it; it’s a darker and more mature film, but seamless with the world of its predecessor.

George Lucas’s strategy of going darker in the middle chapter has been widely copied, and when you’ve got a darker middle chapter (or penultimate chapter), especially if you’re a fan of the material, it can be an easy leap to make.

But enough is enough. The Empire Strikes Back isn’t just a moodier, grimmer Star Wars. If it had been only that, it might still have been successful, but it wouldn’t be the touchstone that it is today.

What makes The Empire Strikes Back is that it’s grander, more heroic, more romantic, funnier, richer, and in practically all ways more ambitious than its predecessor. And Irvin Kershner, along with screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan (Raiders of the Lost Ark, Silverado) is a big part of the reason why.

The success of Star Wars was enough to earn George Lucas a lot of leeway to make the sequel he wanted to make, but he wasn’t yet so powerful to simply have his own way. Other people — notably Kershner and Kasdan — were able to contribute other perspectives, to help shape Star Wars into something even richer and more satisfying.

The Empire Strikes Back is a collaborative effort, and it’s better for that. The sloppiness of the prequels, and even to an extent Return of the Jedi, is probably significantly because Lucas was increasingly able to do whatever he wanted without having to consider other points of view.

Why is The Empire Strikes Back so much better than Deathly Hallows: Part 1?

Here are 12 reasons.

Decent Films Doings: The Reluctant Saint on DVD

Good news for Catholic movie fans! The Reluctant Saint, starring Maximilian Schell as Saint Joseph of Cupertino, comes to DVD next week from Ignatius Press. (A previous DVD edition from Nostalgia Video is out of print. You can still get it on VHS — for $45 at Amazon. The new IP DVD sells at Amazon for $19.95. What’s more, the VHS edition lops off the coda, a real crime in my opinion. Don’t know about the previous DVD ed.)

My essay on the the film

I first saw The Reluctant Saint something like 18 years ago in Philadelphia with a group of friends who met regularly for Catholic movie nights — a formative time in my life as a new Catholic.

I enjoyed it at the time, but on rewatching it recently I found it to be a more sensitive and enjoyable film than I remembered. Films can surprise you when you haven’t seen them in a long time; sometimes they disappoint you, but other times the opposite happens.

Among other things, I appreciated the film’s beauty more than I did nearly two decades ago. Perhaps that’s partly because I saw it this time on a new DVD transfer rather than VHS, but I think it’s also because in 18 years I’ve seen a lot more movies and learned to appreciate beauty in a new way. 

I also have a new appreciation for the film’s spiritual milieu. Looking back today, I can’t be sure, but I suspect that in those days I may have judged all saint movies by A Man for All Seasons. The Reluctant Saint is a very different kind of film. I don’t know if anyone else has connected it to Rossellini’s The Flowers of Saint Francis, but I think there is a connection to be made, and I talk about that in my essay.

Has anyone else seen this film? (It doesn’t seem to have gotten a lot of attention outside Catholic circles.) What do you think of it?

Anyone else had that experience of revisiting a film after a bunch of years and being surprised, either positively or negatively?

More on The Reluctant Saint

Big Doings at Decent Films! Plus: St. Lucy Nativity

Well, here’s one big reason why I’ve been missing in action here at JA.o: I’ve been hard at work on the latest renovation of the Decent Films Guide. It just went live this Sunday.

There are a lot of things about the new Decent Films site that I’m excited about, but you can read about ’em at the Decent Films Blog. (Yes, Decent Films Blog!) OTOH, if you want to comment on the changes at the new site, you can do it here at JA.o (no blog post comments at Decent Films).

BTW, for my second Decent Films Blog entry, I posted a video that I shot a few days ago on my iPhone at St. Lucy’s Church in Newark, NJ, where my family sometimes attends weekday Masses. You can read more about the video and the subject matter at the blog, but the subject matter is worth cross-posting here for anyone who may not click over. Enjoy!

Decent Films Doings: MSM notices my 2-star reviews!

So I was pleased to see last week that the Washington Post's "Under God" blog picked up on my 2012 review at Christianity Today in a post on the filmand that they specifically called out a "Catholic" coda at the end of the review, in which I expressed my difficulty with the depiction (and non-depiction) of Catholic clergy at key points in the film:

A Tibetan monk is among the survivors, but "the only Christian clergy shown are the Catholic prelates who die at St. Peter's . . . If Emmerich is going to specifically show the Vatican leadership going down with St. Peter's, I want to see Catholic (and/or Orthodox) bishops among the survivors–somewhere on the planet."

Apparently Canada's CBC took note, and this morning I did a half-hour segment on the CBC's morning show "The Current." While I always walk away from a broadcast appearance thinking about all the things I wished I had said, I thought that it went pretty well, all things considered.

Now this morning I see that NYTimes.com's Arts Beat blog picked up on my New Moon review for Christianity Today in their round-up of reviews! This time, there's not a specific faith angle; the CT.com review is quoted alongside Salon.com's Stephanie Zacharek and Slate.com's Dana Stevens — and they note, amusingly, that mine is probably "the only 'New Moon' review to invoke C. S. Lewis." Heh!

They also quote what is really the heart of my critique of the whole Twilight saga:

Twilight and New Moon are essentially uncritical celebrations of that overwrought, obsessive passion that is the hallmark of immaturity — passion that wholly subordinates all sense of one's own identity and elevates the beloved to summum bonum, or even the sole good; passion that leaps as readily to suicidal impulses and fantasies as to longing for union.

Pretty cool. (My editor at CT.com says he's going to have to keep me on all the two-star cheese-fests from now on…)

Incidentally, the WaPo blogger, David Waters, comments on my 2012 reservations, "Personally, I think that expecting to find any theological sensitivity from a Hollywood blockbuster is like expecting to find nutritional value in a jelly donut."

Maybe. First, though, how plausible is it that an enormous international project to save a remnant of thousands of people from all over the world, including many of the powerful and connected, would not include bishops? Certainly among those thousands would be some Catholics and Orthodox who would want to make provision for their faith life aprés le deluge, and would arrange for the inclusion of clergy.

Second, it's more the contrast of Catholic bishops explicitly being killed onscreen but not shown among the survivors that bothers me.

And third, I wouldn't say I had any "expectations" of "theological sensitivity" … I was merely commenting on something that's a problem for me watching the film. I might have similar reservations about a jelly donut.

Corresponding with James McCarthy

SDG here, belatedly responding to a number of requests I received a few months back when Jimmy mentioned on the air that I had once corresponded with anti-Catholic apologist James McCarthy.

Here’s the background: In 1992, James McCarthy’s video “Catholicism: Crisis of Faith” was first coming out under the banner of a group called Lumen Productions (read a short critique of the video from Catholic Answers).

In November 1992 I contacted McCarthy to express my objections to this project. (This was only a few months after I was received into the Church, though I had been researching and reading about the Faith for years, and had just begun my graduate work at St. Charles Borromeo.)

McCarthy sent me a free official transcript pamphlet based on the video, and we subsequently exchanged a series of letters. During the course of this exchange McCarthy sent me his pamphlet “The Mass: From Mystery to Meaning” as well as manuscript drafts from The Gospel According to Rome, which he asked me to critique from a Catholic perspective. (Just last night Jimmy mentioned to me that he had recently run across a text I wrote in those days in which I critiqued The Gospel According to Rome. I had forgotten all about writing that critique, so I’ll be looking over that in the (hopefully near) future, and perhaps posting here any points worth making public.)

In my first letter, I quoted the words of Martin Luther: “One thing I ask, that neither truth nor error be condemned unheard and unrefuted.” I wrote that I appreciated the research that went into the project, and commended them for turning to good Catholic apologetical and catechetical works as well as ecumenical councils as sources. On the other hand, I added, “precisely because your sources were so good, I fail to understand how this pamphlet could contain some of the simple factual errors that it does.” After pointing out numerous instances of misstatements and distortions of Catholic teaching in Lumen’s video project “Catholicism: Crisis of Faith,” I concluded in my closing paragraph:

In short, the video appears to be aimed at Catholics whose faith is shallow, ill-informed, and unstable, who will not realize that there is anything more to the issues than you have presented here. It seems to seek to make a case that will appear unanswerable and unarguable to those who have never heard the arguments and answers. It looks like its purpose is to prey on the weak and sick of the flock … with promises of greener pastures: but it seems unwilling to admit to its prey that their flock may have healthier sheep (not to mention shepherds) who might withstand the attack; or that there may be greener pastures within the very fold which they have never known.

McCarthy’s reply was courteous and irenic. He thanked me for the “loving tone” and reasonable approach of my letter (which he contrasted favorably with the “enraged” tone of a Lutheran woman who had also written that week to take exception of the film). In subsequent correspondence he expressed appreciation for my “good writing style and patient reasoning.” (Alas, looking back at those early letters, I cringe at some of my stylistic quirks in those days.)

The following is a summary of salient points of our exchange, organized topically and generally moving from shorter and less consequential exchanges to longer and more substantial ones.

A few notes: I have made minor typographical corrections and such both to McCarthy’s letters and to mine. At times I have expanded upon comments from my original emails with additional analysis (it should be fairly clear where this has been done). Third, while I believe I have the complete correspondence before me, and while I’ve tried to be as complete as possible, I can’t be sure I haven’t lost or missed something. Finally, this exchange took place over fifteen years ago; I expect that neither McCarthy nor I would necessarily approach all of the issues below exactly as we did at the time. That said, I offer the following highlights of our exchange for whatever light it may shed on works that are still offered by McCarthy.

Continue reading “Corresponding with James McCarthy”

Fair and balanced

Pro-life street protesters and global warming controversy — getting a fair shake in the MSM?

Don’t believe it? Check out this New York Times story on pro-life street protesters and this BBC story on global warming controversy. Hat tip: Wesly J. Smith (First Things blog).

From the Times story:

The most repeated anecdotes involve abortions averted. Ms. Anderson recalled what she said was her first triumph. It was the early ’80s. After becoming pregnant with a boyfriend while separated from her husband — and deciding to have the baby despite friends’ advice to abort, she said — she was a single mother with a bumper sticker on her Chrysler Fifth Avenue that said “the heart beats at 24 days for an unborn child.”

One day in a parking lot near her home, Ms. Anderson said, a woman came up to her and said she had been on her way to get an abortion when she saw that simple statement and changed her mind. “There was a 2-year-old in the back seat,” Ms. Anderson said.

At her home in Memphis, Mich., other examples followed: of two girls from Ohio who left an abortion clinic and, she said, told Ms. Anderson that her presence had persuaded them had not gone through with it; of a young man who knocked on her door in the dead of night, after seeing anti-abortion signs in her window. …

Ms. Anderson smiled. “I can’t tell you how many babies have been saved because of abortion protesters outside the abortion mills,” she said. “That’s what it’s all about.”

From the BBC story:

What is really interesting at the moment is what is happening to our oceans. They are the Earth’s great heat stores.

According to research conducted by Professor Don Easterbrook from Western Washington University last November, the oceans and global temperatures are correlated.

The oceans, he says, have a cycle in which they warm and cool cyclically. The most important one is the Pacific decadal oscillation (PDO).

For much of the 1980s and 1990s, it was in a positive cycle, that means warmer than average. And observations have revealed that global temperatures were warm too.

But in the last few years it has been losing its warmth and has recently started to cool down.

These cycles in the past have lasted for nearly 30 years.

So could global temperatures follow? The global cooling from 1945 to 1977 coincided with one of these cold Pacific cycles.

Professor Easterbrook says: “The PDO cool mode has replaced the warm mode in the Pacific Ocean, virtually assuring us of about 30 years of global cooling.”

So what does it all mean? Climate change sceptics argue that this is evidence that they have been right all along.

Read the Times piece. Read the BBC piece.

The Petrine Fact, Part 8: Peter and the Keys

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8


Christ Giving the Keys to St. Peter (Sistine Chapel – Pietro Perugino, 1480-81)

NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.

“I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt 16:19)

If verse 18 (“You are Petros, and on this rock I will build my Church”) is the central saying of Jesus’ extraordinary threefold logion to Peter in Matthew 16, verse 19 is its climax. Verse 18 is the fulcrum of the passage, but verse 19 provides the leverage. Verse 19 is the key to the Petrine fact; it puts the primacy of Peter in all the other passages we have considered into sharpest relief, giving us a definite context for understanding the nature of Peter’s relationship to Jesus, to the Twelve and to the Church.

Like the previous two verses (as we saw in Part 6), verse 19 consists of a major pronouncement addressed to Peter and about Peter, followed by a supporting couplet expounding upon or unpacking the major pronouncement:

I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven,

and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven,

and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

If verse 18 invited comparison to the renaming passages in Genesis involving Abraham, Sarah and Jacob, verse 19 even more strikingly recalls an Old Testament text with the same three-part structure, as well as other clear points of contact:

And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David;

he shall open, and none shall shut;

and he shall shut, and none shall open. (Isa 22:22)

In addition to this passage, there are also four New Testament passages warranting mention. One is Matthean, the other three Johannine:

Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven,

and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. (Matt 18:18)

Receive the Holy Spirit.

If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven;

if you retain the sins of any, they are retained. (John 20:22b-23)

Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one; I died, and behold I am alive for evermore, and I have the keys of death and hades. (Rev 1:17b-18)

The words of the holy one, the true one, who has the key of David,

who opens and no one shall shut,

who shuts and no one opens. (Rev 3:7)

A number of images and themes crop up throughout these passages: keys, the Church, heaven and earth, hades, binding and loosing, opening and closing, forgiving and retaining.

Let’s begin with the idea of binding and loosing, found in the two Matthean passages, Matthew 16:19 and 18:18 (which are also the only two texts here or anywhere in the Gospels in which the word “church” appears).

As we saw with receiving and delivering (Part 2), the language of binding and loosing is borrowed from rabbinic vocabulary, where refers first of all to regulatory or disciplinary authority: authority to forbid or permit, to declare licit or illicit — to define and clarify Halakhah, the living legal tradition regulating all aspects of Jewish life. Binding and loosing can also refer to executive or juridical authority to exclude from the community or to acquit of wrongdoing.

An example of the first, halakhic sense of binding as regulatory or disciplinary authority can be seen another Matthean saying of Jesus that mentions “binding”:

The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; so practice and observe whatever they tell you, but not what they do; for they preach, but do not practice. They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger. (Matthew 23:2-4)

The saying clearly refers to halakhic authority misused, i.e., used in an abusive and hypocritical way — though Jesus gives no indication that the misuse of regulatory authority disqualifies its use or warrants its disregard. On the contrary, he affirms the authority of the scribes and the Pharisees, urging his hearers to “practice and observe whatever they tell you,” even when this power of binding is hypocritically wielded by those who “sit in Moses’ seat.”

A related expression can be found in a passage previously considered, Acts 15, in which, deferring to James’ pastoral concern for Jewish brethren, the council issues a halakhic pronouncement for the Syrian Gentile Christians, stating that “it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to lay upon you no greater burden than these necessary things: that you abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from unchastity” (Acts 15:28-29). While the word “binding” is not present here (it is another Semitism particular to Matthew), Luke’s language of laying “burdens” on men (i.e., obliging certain Gentile brethren to observe certain conspicuous precepts of the Law of Moses above and beyond the requirements of the moral law) resonates with Jesus’ language about “binding heavy burdens,” and reinforces that Jesus is speaking of regulatory or disciplinary authority.

The second sense of binding and loosing, authority to exclude from the community or to acquit of wrongdoing, is directly in view in Matthew 18, where verse 18 immediately follows Jesus’ teaching that the obstinate wrongdoer who “refuses to listen even to the church” should be ostracized from the community (“let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector”). It’s not hard to see that these two senses are interrelated (e.g., authority to establish the rules of a community more or less entails authority to distinguish members in good standing from those who are not).

It is one thing to have authority, and another to use it rightly. We have seen that Jesus excoriated the scribes and Pharisees for misusing their own authority to bind (while still exhorting his hearers to submit to that misused authority); and to the Twelve, as we saw in Part 3, Jesus sought to impart the idea of a radically different model of authority based on service rather than privilege. Clearly the Twelve were slow to absorb this concept prior to Pentecost, and even after Pentecost it is not necessary to assume that every apostle was always a perfect model of servant leadership. Certainly Christian history is replete with examples of leadership abused in just the ways that Jesus condemns.

Nevertheless, both in Matthew 16:19 and 18:18 we find astonishing ratification of the exercise of the binding and loosing authority conferred by Jesus: “whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” Insofar as binding and loosing entails halakhic authority, this “heaven and earth” language indicates that the Christian Halakhah has divine force. (“Heaven” in Matthew is a circumlocution for “God”; e.g., where Mark and Luke use “kingdom of God,” Matthew uses “kingdom of heaven.” Thus, “bound in heaven” means “bound by or before God.”) Insofar as it entails authority to exclude or to acquit, Jesus’ language comes very close to the parallel Johannine pronouncement “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

In both Matthew 16 and 18, the future perfect tense could also be translated “shall have been bound/loosed” (a construction that R. T. France suggests is as awkward in Greek as it is in English), or even “shall having been bound” (thus A. T. Robertson). This suggests divine guidance for those exercising this authority — an implication that particularly resonates with Jesus’ guarantee in Matthew 16:18 that “the gates of hell shall not prevail” against the Church he builds upon this rock.

While this may entail infallibility in unchanging matters (a point I may return to in a future post), it should not be taken to indicate that Peter and the apostles are authorized only to declare what is or is not lawful according to the eternal moral law. Acts 15 provides a good counter-example: “It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us,” the council wrote, though such matters as eating meat offered to idols and blood were not matters of the eternal moral law, but of the Law of Moses.

The implication is not that the council’s decision to require more than the moral law was merely ratified or seconded by the Holy Spirit, but that it was in accordance with the will of the Holy Spirit. Thus, what is “having been bound in heaven” need not be only what is eternally bound by the moral law; it can also be what is in keeping with prudential moral judgment for a particular cultural situation. In other words, “shall have been bound in heaven” need not mean “bound always, everywhere and for everyone”; binding and loosing can have a more limited scope, even in heaven.

So far we have been considering Jesus’ language about binding and loosing in Matthew 16 and Matthew 18 in an undifferentiated way. Now we must take stock of crucial differences between the two passages. Three in particular stand out.

First, though identically translated in contemporary English (which lacks inflection for number of the second-personal pronoun and second-person verbs), in the Greek text (and in any Aramaic original, and in most other languages), the second-personal pronoun “you” and the verbs “bind” and “loose” are singular in 16:19, addressed to Peter alone, and plural in 18:18, addressed to the company of the Twelve.

On the one hand, then, Jesus says to Peter, “whatever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” On the other hand, he says to the Twelve, “whatever you (all) bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you (all) loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

Once again, as in declaring Peter the rock and in various other ways, Jesus singles Peter out. He doesn’t tell, e.g., John that what he binds or looses on earth shall be bound or loosed in heaven — or James, or Andrew, etc. He doesn’t even say “Whatever any of you bind or loose on earth shall be bound or loosed in heaven.” The plural verbs in chapter 18 are enacted by a plural subject. Taken at face value, Matthew 18 speaks of a corporate power of binding or loosing, exercised by a body — the body of the Twelve, of the “church” (as per the previous verse) — while Matthew 16 speaks of an individual power of binding or loosing, exercised by Peter.

This is an observation about the Greek grammar and what Jesus says in Matthew. I do not leap directly to any specific theological conclusion about differences in the authority given to Peter versus the Twelve. I am not necessarily saying that John or James or Andrew had not in any sense power to bind or loose individually. My only immediate conclusion is that Jesus once again singles Peter out and ascribes to him individually what is ascribed to the Twelve only corporately, as he does in calling Peter the rock on which the Church is built while the apostles collectively are elsewhere called the Church’s foundation.

A second difference: While in both passages binding and loosing is directly associated with the Church — the only places the word ever appears in the Gospels — the word church seems to be used differently in Matthew 16 and Matthew 18. In the former passage it clearly refers to the Church Universal: “Upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hades shall not prevail against it” (16:18). It the latter it seems to refer to the local church community: “If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector” (18:17). (Certainly Matthew’s readers would not have understood from this that Christians were to go up to Jerusalem to take their grievances with one another before the leading apostles; they would have understood this to refer to local church leadership.)

Once again, I do not leap directly to any specific theological conclusion. I do not claim, for instance, that the authority of individual apostles other than Peter was geographically limited or confined to particular communities. It is theologically true that the apostolic mission of every apostle was to the whole Church. Nevertheless, Jesus speaks of Peter’s individual authority to bind and loose in the context of the Church Universal, and of the apostles’ collegiate authority to bind and loose in the context of local churches. The latter authority is given a relative context; the former an absolute context.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, while 18:18 mentions only the power of binding and loosing, 16:19 mentions something else: the keys of the kingdom. In fact, the keys of the kingdom are the major clause; binding and loosing is only the supporting couplet.

In the last couple of posts I argued that the supporting couplets in Matthew 16:17-19 illuminate and expound upon the major clauses. As we saw, some resist this in 16:18, arguing that “You are Petros” has nothing to do with “upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hades shall not prevail against it.” Now, in verse 19, many of the same readers go to the opposite extreme, arguing that the keys of the kingdom and the power of binding and loosing are not only related, but simply and sheerly synonymous. “The keys of the kingdom,” they say, means nothing that is not wholly contained in the power of binding and loosing that is shared by all. The major clause is thus collapsed into the supporting couplet.

We have already seen that even with regard to binding and loosing Peter is uniquely privileged among the Twelve. Beyond that, though, the effort to collapse the keys of the kingdom into the power of binding and loosing must be rejected.

To begin with, one could not similarly collapse the meaning of the major clauses from the preceding verses into the supporting couplets. “Upon this rock I will build my Church” is obviously related to “I say to you, you are Petros,” but they are not two ways of saying the same thing, nor does “upon this rock I will build my Church” contain the whole meaning of “I say to you, you are Petros.” Likewise, Peter’s blessedness and the Father’s revelation to him of Jesus’ identity are related but not identical realities, and the latter is not the sole basis for the former (in fact, Jesus is about to bless Peter further). The reductionist effort to read the keys of the kingdom out of the passage is not supported by the context.

The key, though, is the Old Testament background in Isaiah 22: “And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David; he shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open” (Isa 22:22). This passage, recognized by most commentators and commentaries today, Catholic and non-Catholic, as the precedent for Jesus’ words in Matthew 18:19, indicates that what is given to Peter is a privilege that is unique among the Twelve.

The verse is part of an oracle that concerns the office of chief steward or master of the household of David. The current office holder, Shebna, has incurred God’s displeasure, and is to be cast down from his station, and his authority given to a successor, Eliakim son of Hilkiah. Here is the oracle in full:

Thus says the Lord GOD of hosts, “Come, go to this steward, to Shebna, who is over the household, and say to him: What have you to do here and whom have you here, that you have hewn here a tomb for yourself, you who hew a tomb on the height, and carve a habitation for yourself in the rock? Behold, the LORD will hurl you away violently, O you strong man. He will seize firm hold on you, and whirl you round and round, and throw you like a ball into a wide land; there you shall die, and there shall be your splendid chariots, you shame of your master’s house. I will thrust you from your office, and you will be cast down from your station. In that day I will call my servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah, and I will clothe him with your robe, and will bind your girdle on him, and will commit your authority to his hand; and he shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David; he shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open. And I will fasten him like a peg in a sure place, and he will become a throne of honor to his father’s house. And they will hang on him the whole weight of his father’s house, the offspring and issue, every small vessel, from the cups to all the flagons. In that day, says the LORD of hosts, the peg that was fastened in a sure place will give way; and it will be cut down and fall, and the burden that was upon it will be cut off, for the LORD has spoken.” (Isa 22:15-25)

The “key of the house of David” in this passage represents the office of chief steward or master of the royal household. Like other kings in ancient and modern times, the Davidic monarchs were served by various stewards or ministers empowered to exercise authority in the king’s name. Among these was the one “over the household,” as Shebna is called in 22:15, and as Eliakim is called in Isaiah 36:3.

The same language for the same office is found in 1 Kings 4:6 as well as in (for the northern kingdom) 1 Kings 16:9 and 18:3; parallels are also found in Egyptian, Assyrian and Babylonian contexts. A pre-Davidic parallel is found in Genesis, where Joseph is put “over the household” of Pharaoh (Gen 41:40, 45:8), an office entailing supreme authority over the whole kingdom second only to Pharaoh. This is the authority of the Egyptian vizier — the model for the Hebrew office of chief steward according to some scholars. (Originally, apparently, the authority of the master of the house was just that — he was a palace administrator, concerned with the doings of the king’s household rather than the kingdom. Over time, however, the office acquired more importance, and by )

The key of the royal household in Isaiah 22 is a sign of the chief steward’s preeminent authority among the king’s ministers, an authority second only to the king himself. That they are worn on the shoulder seems to suggest ceremonial significance: The key is actually a token of office, not just a tool for locking or unlocking.

In Matthew 16:19, Jesus does not quote Isaiah 22:22 exactly, as if it were a prophecy of the Petrine office. Isaiah does not foretell Peter; neither Shebna nor Eliakim is a prophetic “type” of Peter in the sense that the Davidic king was a type of Christ.

Rather, Jesus alludes to an Old Testament passage that provides an interpretive precedent for what he is doing. Peter has just confessed Jesus as the Messiah, the son of David, the king of Israel. In reply, by giving Peter the keys of the kingdom, Jesus places Peter over the royal household.

This is a unique privilege; it is held by one. The other apostles also share in the power of binding and loosing; they also are stewards and ministers in the royal household. But the absence of the keys in Matthew 18:18 is not merely a formal detail. Only one is over the household. Only Peter has the keys. This is not merely halakhic authority to bind and loose, along with the other apostles. Peter is chief steward, with administrative authority second only to Jesus.

Why Peter? Whatever factors in Peter’s personality we might cite for or against him, Jesus makes it clear that it is “not by flesh and blood” that Peter comes to where he is now. It was by the Father’s choice that he came to confess Jesus, and by Jesus’ choice that he becomes the rock of the Church and the bearer of the keys. This is not to say that the other apostles lacked Peter’s faith, or that others before Peter had not confessed Jesus as Messiah (cf. John 1:49). But Jesus’ interpretation of Peter’s confession is definitive; it is Peter whom he pronounces blessed, Peter who becomes the rock, Peter who receives the keys.

Some polemicists attempt to evade the implications of Isaiah 22 for Matthew 16 by emphasizing that Isaiah 22 speaks of the disgrace and fall of an unworthy steward, and looks forward to the fall of his successor Eliakim as well. Isaiah 22 calls Eliakim “a peg in a sure place” from which hangs “the whole weight of his father’s house,” but concludes that the peg “will give way” and “the burden that was upon it will be cut off” (this appears to refer to Eliakim, though it’s not entirely clear). The implication, apparently, is that this would not bode well for Peter or for any office inaugurated on him.

This is to overplay the significance of the specific events described in Isaiah 22 for Matthew 16. Jesus does not pronounce Peter to be a new Shebna or Eliakim, as John the Baptist was a new Elijah. Shebna is not the first chief steward of David’s house; he is merely one in a long line of office holders. He is not a prophetic type of Peter, only someone who held an analogous office under the old covenant. Jesus’ allusion to Isaiah 22 simply references the office held by Shebna and Eliakim as a way of explaining Peter’s role in the Church and the kingdom.

Eliakim may be “a peg in a sure place” supporting “the whole weight of his father’s house,” but Peter is the rock that supports the Church built by Christ. Isaiah prophesies that the peg and its burden are destined to fall, but Jesus himself declares that the Church built upon this rock will not. Shebna and Eliakim’s authority was unquestioned within the royal household, but Peter’s authority to bind and loose is ratified by heaven itself. The differences tell as much as the similarities.

Another attempt to minimize Peter’s privilege in Matthew 16 involves pointing to the verses in Revelation 1 and 3 that speak of Jesus having the keys. In particular, Revelation 3:7 (“The words of the holy one, the true one, who has the key of David, who opens and no one shall shut, who shuts and no one opens”) unquestionably references Isaiah 22:22, even more directly than Matthew 16:19 — though Matthew 16:19 is functionally closer to Isaiah 22:22 in that both Isaiah 22:22 and Matthew 16:19 involve the entrusting of keys to a minister. In Revelation 3:7 Jesus declares that he has the key, but the key is neither given nor received in that passage, as in Isaiah 22 and Matthew 16.

This is fitting, since obviously the point of Revelation 3 is not that Jesus is now chief steward! Rather, Jesus has the key of David by virtue of being the king, while in Matthew 16 Peter receives the keys, like Eliakim, by virtue of being the king’s servant. There is no contradiction between Jesus giving Peter the keys in Matthew 16 and having the key in Revelation 3; Jesus does not give up the keys he entrusts to Peter, any more than he gives up the sheep he entrusts to Peter. (We will return to these verses when considering the question of succession.)

To see Peter as Jesus’ chief steward offers a definitive context in which to understand Peter’s primacy throughout the New Testament, and vice versa; each contextualizes the other. In Luke 22, when the whole company of Christ’s stewards are to be sifted by Satan, it is the chief steward that Jesus prays for, that he might strengthen the rest. It is the chief steward to whom Jesus gives the solemn threefold commission as vice shepherd, to whom Jesus appears first after the Resurrection.

It is the one to whom Jesus gives the keys, the master of the house, who leads the apostles in choosing a replacement for Judas, who speaks for the Twelve at Pentecost, who speaks before the Sanhedrin, who pronounces judgment (exercising the power of the keys) on Ananias and Sapphira (a pronouncement that is ratified by heaven).

It is the chief steward who receives the vision opening the door to Gentile believers — and who silences debate at the Jerusalem council by reminding the assembled that it was he whom God chose from among them all for that vision, just as he was chosen from among the Twelve at Caesarea Philippi.

It is also the chief steward whom Jesus rebuffs at Caesarea Philippi, who initially refuses Jesus’ foot-washing, who receives the rebuke for the sleeping disciples at Gethsemane, who denies Jesus three times, whom Paul must oppose to his face. The New Testament’s near preoccupation with Peter’s failures tells much the story as its interest in his outspokenness and leadership. Peter’s weakness is so significant precisely because he is the chief of the apostles.

More to come!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Woody and Buzz in 3-D!

SDG here jumping with joy at the thought of seeing two early Pixar classics in theaters, back-to-back, in 3-D!


“You… are… a… TOY!”

Toy Story and Toy Story 2 are back in theaters in a double feature, and they’ve been converted to Disney Digital 3-D. This is in anticipation of next year’s debut of Toy Story 3 in 3-D.

Converting a computer-animated film like the Toy Story films to 3-D is an entirely different proposition from doing a 3-D conversion on a movie like, say, Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas (which will also be back in theaters in 3-D in a couple of weeks or so).

The Nightmare Before Christmas is stop-motion animation, which means it was filmed using real 3-D objects in real space. Had they wanted to make it 3-D originally, it would have been comparatively easy to film it in 3-D the same way you would a live-action movie, by using two cameras together, one for the left-eye perspective and one for the right-eye perspective.

That’s how 3-D works: by presenting two slightly different perspectives on the same action to each of your two eyes, which your brain compiles into a single 3-D perception of spatial relations. That’s the way you perceive actual 3-D space too: Your left eye and your right eye have slightly different perspectives on the world, and your brain does the math of mapping how close or far objects are depending on how different the perceptions are from each eye. The further away objects are, the less difference it makes to your left eye versus your right eye; the closer objects are, the more different they appear and the more their position shifts relative to one eye versus the other.

For example, your left-eye view of your nose is completely different from your right-eye view of your nose, because your nose is really, really close to your eyes. Looking at these words on the computer screen, if you close first one eye and then another, you’ll see the words jump slightly to the left or the right — but not as much as your nose, which jumps completely from one side of your visual field to the other side. Then if you look out a window at objects that are far away, they shift even less.

Of course, whenever you have one eye closed, you’re seeing a 2-D view on the world, just like a photograph or a movie, although your brain still understands space well enough to work with a 2-D picture — though not as well as if you can use both eyes.

Among other things, even with one eye, your brain makes judgments about space not only based on the same sort of judgments you make looking at a photograph, but also as your head moves your brain gathers additional information about what things look like from different perspectives, and uses that information to make better judgments about distance.

Ever seen a cat bob its head up and down before making a jump? Same thing — it’s gathering more information to make the best possible estimation of the distance. It’s almost like having four eyes instead of just two. (I think maybe some athletes, like tennis players, might get a similar benefit by swaying back and forth, though that’s probably mostly about being ready to move in any direction.)


“What’s this?!”

Anyway, getting back to The Nightmare Before Christmas, although it would have been comparatively easy to film in 3-D originally, in fact like any non–3-D film it was filmed with a single camera point of view, which means that now all the information about those objects in space has been reduced to a 2-D image representing a single point of view — not enough to create a 3-D image.

Creating a 3-D effect in that case means extrapolating (i.e., creating) additional information that doesn’t exist on the film about what those objects would look like from two different points of view, as well as what we would see of objects behind them if we had a slightly different perspective, etc. In other words, you have to cheat and make stuff up. Fortunately, computers are powerful tools and the effect is pretty good, though not as good as filming in 3-D in the first place.

With Toy Story, though, it’s completely different. The great thing about computer animation is that even though the film images were rendered by computers in 2-D, prior to being rendered the films were staged and animated in a virtual 3-D environment — and all that lovely 3-D information still exists on hard drives at Pixar. For example, in a scene in which we see Andy playing with Woody and Buzz, we see them on screen from only one perspective — but the animators originally mapped out where Andy, Woody and Buzz were in relation to one another in virtual 3-D, and the computer files with that information still exist.

In principle, the animators could swing the virtual “camera” 180 degrees around the room and render to show us Andy, Woody and Buzz from the back — or what it would look like from a bird’s eye view over their heads, etc. You could never do that with a 2-D film like The Nightmare Before Christmas — you’d essentially be painting an entirely new image with all-new information.)

To give us 3-D, though, Pixar just have to render two different points of view similar to the original camera angle for a left-eye and a right-eye shot.

Then both images are projected on the screen at the same time, and the images are filtered for the left eye and the right eye using polarization, i.e., controlling how the light waves move for each of the two images and then using polarized 3-D glasses to filter for light traveling in one direction versus the other. (In the old days of 3-D, polarization was linear, e.g., vertical or horizontal, but newer circular polarization, which is left or right, is much better and doesn’t depend on the angle of your head. With the old linear-polarized glasses, if you put two pairs of glasses together and turned one at right angles to the other, you would see almost nothing. That wouldn’t work with circular polarized glasses — but I bet it would if you opposed them face to face.)

None of this, of course, has anything to do with why Toy Story and Toy Story 2 are such classics … for that, you can read my reviews. (Oh, and The Nightmare Before Christmas, not exactly a classic, but quite a fun little film, and fun to revisit around Halloween.)

Next week: The return of the Petrine Fact!