Get To Work

For some inspiration on this hump day, here's Grandfather Francis on the job, speaking on a Sunday, but with a prayer germane to any time:

OUR FATHER, we thank YOU for the light this morning. Endure our hearts with gratitude and love for the blessings of the past week, and direct our conversation and daily work through the coming week. Grant that we may render THEE service that will not only give us joy and comfort, but that our example and influence will lead others to love and serve THEE. May we realize and appreciate every day of our lives, that we owe all to THEE and that all good things of life come from THY mercy and gracious kindness. All this we ask for CHRIST'S sake.

Some time ago, somebody at work asked me what it was that kept me in such good spirits, so much of the time. She thought me consistently calm and cool and wanted to know why.

I pointed towards Heaven. "A higher power."

"Oh," she said, smiling. "I thought you did yoga."

I didn't need to go into some evangelical spiel. A few words sufficed and what she knew would fill in the rest.

St. Francis of Assisi said, "Preach the Gospel at all times, and if necessary, use words." 1 John 2:3-6 (NIV) says: "We know that we have come to know HIM if we keep HIS commands. Whoever says, “I know HIM” but does not do what HE commands is a liar, and the truth is not in that person. But if anyone obeys HIS word, love for GOD is truly made complete in them. This is how we know we are in HIM: Whoever claims to live in HIM must live as JESUS did."

We have the job description. Time to go to work.

Being There

Buried within all of my Grandfather's prayers, I found this brief teaching:

Dear Abby gave reasons who people go to church. Some go to pray, some go to pray that they might meet someone. Other reasons were: habit, training, fear of punishment from THE LORD if they don't, to be seen, to see who else is there, to show off a new outfit, to get spiritual inspiration, to socialize.

From the above reasons we all could select at least several of them. But the important part is we are going to church. By so doing, maybe some spiritual growth will rub off. Remember JESUS' disciples had to work long and hard to sell Christianity. Our task today is much easier.

Hebrews 10:24-25 (NIV) explains why we need to go to church: "And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." Simply being around GOD's people, HIS truth and HIS principles on a regular basis will not leave us unchanged. Remember that saying, "Half of life is just showing up?" It's that way in our spiritual life, too.

Starting Right

Grandfather Francis once offered this invocation:

Oh GOD, author of eternal light, lead us in our worshiping this day; that our lips may praise THEE, our lives may bless THEE, our meditations may glorify THEE; through JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD...

A lot of times, we get off to a bad start in our days, our weeks, and all too often, our lives. It's not always our fault, but when it is, GOD offers a way out. 1 John 1:9 (NIV) says, "If we confess our sins, HE is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."

Mind you, we still have to repent, as we see just a few verses earlier in 1 John 1:6, "If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth." So there's no free ride, but be glad that GOD knows were't not perfect.

Be Sweet

Another prayer from Grandpa Francis on service:

O LORD, renew our spirits and draw our hearts to thyself, that our work may not be in us a burden but a delight, and give us such a mighty love for THEE as may sweeten our obedience. Oh, let us not serve THEE with the spirit of bondage, as slave, but with the cheerfulness and gladness of children, delighting ourselves in THEE and rejoicing in THY work.

Work is work. That's why they call it work. Serving GOD is work. But I remember Warren Beatty telling Oprah that success meant not knowing whether you were working or having fun.

So is it the same way with serving THE LORD? In 1 Chronicles 28:9 (NIV) King David says: "And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge the GOD of your father, and serve HIM with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for THE LORD searches every heart and understands every desire and every thought. If you seek HIM, HE will be found by you; but if you forsake HIM, HE will reject you forever."

In other words, the LORD will know where your heart is. HE knows everything, anyway. JESUS adds an interesting perspective in Matthew 21:28-31:

“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’

“‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.

“Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.

“Which of the two did what his father wanted?”

“The first,” they answered.

JESUS said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you."

JESUS is addressing the people with a false heart towards GOD. Some people will say anything, but fail on the follow-through. Others will protest their burdens, but they'll go through with them. Notice JESUS doesn't focus on the attitude, but the outcome. Not that attitude isn't important -- ultimately it's going to determine whether there's a follow-through. Having a heart for GOD should ultimately affect your attitude, even on those days when you don't feel like following GOD's principles, going to church, praying, reading the Bible, or otherwise keeping up the relationship. GOD understands there will be times when we're tempted to run off the rails, but HE says there's always a way out (1 Corinthians 10:13).

It's All About The Relationship

Grandpa offered this Communion prayer at one Sunday service:

For this divine friendship, O GOD, we are thankful. Help us to remember that this friendship is possible only because of YOUR love and mercy. Bless this loaf and cup as we partake in this bond of friendship made possible through the grace of our LORD, in whose name we pray.

As I have said on this blog before, many people treat Christianity as a social club. They don't understand the difference between going to church and having a relationship with GOD. Communion is something that is supposed to help bind that relationship, draw us closer, help us to remember JESUS' sacrifice for us.

Many churches do communion at every service. Some, once a month. At The Cool Church, we partake in our small groups, which I feel has more meaning. It takes it out of the liturgy of a service and forces us to make it personal, as it should be. The Bible doesn't even tell us how often we should take communion, just that we should, and that it should not be taken lightly. But this is the first time I've seen it described as a "bond of friendship." To me, that seems too light. We have a song at TCC explaining how JESUS and people "can't just be friends." I'm sure if I sat down with Grandpa and gone back with him through the Bible and the Last Supper and the deeper meaning of it, he'd probably tell me he was getting at GOD wanting a relationship with us, not just one hour of one day of the week.

Or maybe it's because we've redefined friendship so many times over so many years that it lost its luster. Think about it: how many of your Facebook friends do you really consider to be friends? Would you treat all of them in real life the same way as you do on the net? Would you un-friend them as quickly if they got under your skin? Would you do that to GOD?

Grandpa certainly wouldn't.

Through The Giving Glass

Grandpa offered this prayer on service:

DEAR FATHER, THOU hast given us the great gift of a new day. May it be unto us a FATHER'S house of love where we shall serve, not as slaves, but as free men; not as strangers, but as friends; not as aliens, but as sons and heirs as children come to their mothers when wearied. So may we come to THEE in any hour of need. May the knowledge of THY confidence and love for us enable us to bear each burden and trample each temptation underfoot.

Then right below, he left an outline for what I presume was a call to offering:

1. Hobby -- stain glass
2. Giving to people -- their reaction -- my reaction
3. Mention our giving for our new church
4. Giving should never be described as a straight line but as a circle
5. Tithes and offerings

Grandpa took up making stained-glass window decorations in the latter half of his life. He actually taught myself and my brother how to grind glass using this small, table-top device. I forget how he mounted all those pieces in the frames, but he became an ace at it. It brought him satisfaction and joy, and I infer he had quite a few recipients of his handiwork who loved it, thus amplifying his satisfaction.

I bet he considered it a form of service, not just a hobby -- much in the same way I consider my hobby of colonial dance and living history to be a way of uplifting others. Hebrews 6:10 (NIV) says: "GOD is not unjust; HE will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them." All right, I'll grant you turning a minuet with a lady and feeding the poor aren't on the same plane. But GOD gifted us with different talents and abilities, meaning we're not going to serve in the same way, nor should we.

When it comes to our wallets, though, GOD expects a little more uniformity, not by amount, but by percentage. 2 Corinthians 8:13 says: "Our desire is not that others might be relieved while you are hard pressed, but that there might be equality." In other words, not equal amounts, but equal sacrifice.

And that circle Grandpa talked about? 2 Corinthians 8:14 says: "At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. The goal is equality."

If You Build It, HE Will Come

Grandpa Francis wrote this prayer about following GOD's way:

OUR HEAVENLY FATHER, give us renewed power to overcome all our faults. Give us a renewed spirit of good will toward our fellow men. Give us a firmer faith in there, and in all the promises of THY HOLY WORD. Help us to follow those lines of action which bring peace, honor, and prosperity. And by the guidance of THY HOLY SPIRIT, guide us ever in the way that goeth upward, through JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD.

Then below, he leaves a clue:

Field Of Dreams
If you make it. They will come.
" " build it. " " "

Obviously Grandpa is referring to the classic line from the Kevin Costner movie: "If you build it, he will come." The "he" referred to Costner's character's father, but it's no stretch to see Grandad was trying to make a point about OUR HEAVENLY FATHER.

And the Bible makes the same point in James 4:7-8: "Submit yourselves, then, to GOD. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to GOD and HE will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded."

If you build your relationship with GOD, HE will come, indeed.

Finding Peace

My Grandfather wrote:

O GOD of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and confidence shall be our strength; by the might of THY SPIRIT lift us, we pray THEE, to THY presence, where we may be still and know that THOU art GOD; through JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD.

Three years ago on this day, I lived through the surreal experience of dealing with a mass shooting here in Tucson, and the beginning of what would be a slow emotional drain. I ended up talking to a good friend of mine at The Cool Church who happens to be one of our ace Biblical counselors. He told me he and his fellow counselors had spent some time talking to first responders who had worked through that day and found themselves shaken to the core. They reminded them of Queen Esther's story, and how she was put in her position "for such as time" as the one now upon us. My friend told me, I was no different, even though I was a journalist, not a paramedic or a policeman.

I drew closer to GOD over the next few months, praying for strength to keep going on, through that awful year of 2011, with its parade of disheartening news that just kept coming, including the Monument Fire that burned through homes in Sierra Vista and all the continuing drama surrounding Gabrielle Giffords and the January 8th gunman's court case. I nearly quit the business that year. I thank GOD for giving me the strength and peace to stick it out.

Praise Before Raises

As part of Grandfather Francis' church duties, he would give short messages during the service. I found a cryptic outline for one:

Offertory message.
Talk about tithes & offerings
This morning let's talk about the word praise
That's spelled with an E on the end.
School children --
Employees -- survey -- praise before raises.
Praise members -- whose effort in giving and work has make our church bldg a reality

I can't reconstruct what point he was trying to make with the "E on the end" line. I can guess he may have talked about how we praise children, and how bosses praise their employees, or not. That survey may have revealed -- at one time during the 1970's or 1980's -- that many workers wanted more recognition or more encouragement over more cash.

It makes sense. I remember a colleague at a former TV newsroom recalling how he could live without a raise if the staff would just get a few thank-yous once in awhile. This was a station that was used to dominating the competition by a wide margin, but it didn't happen by default. Our newsroom dealt with crummy equipment, long hours, amateur reporting, egos, idiots and other nuisances every day to get the news on the air. At times I believed our general manager took us for granted, even if he didn't take our success for granted.

I remember one year, at a staff meeting, he talked about how several people had asked him about when they might get a raise. He spoke almost flippantly, in a what-do-you-expect tone. He gave us raises anyway, but not without some grumbling, I figured.

A lot of us are trying to give to GOD consistently, but not exactly joyfully as GOD tells us (2 Cor. 9:7). We all know it's tough, but realize this: GOD already owns all your money; you're just borrowing it from HIM, as stated in Deuteronomy 8:18: "But remember the LORD your GOD, for it is HE who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms HIS covenant, which HE swore to your ancestors, as it is today." In that light, it seems awkward to complain about giving regularly and sacrificially.

Since GOD already owns all our money, it really means nothing to him without the gratitude of the person putting it in the box to back it up. 1 Samuel 15:22 (NIV) says: "But Samuel replied: "Does the LORD delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the LORD? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams."

Walk In And Be Thankful

On the back of a quarter of a letter from the University of Kansas health care outreach department, talking in part about a dinner for professionals to share their knowledge and experience, I find this prayer:

Enter HIS gates with thanksgiving, and HIS courts with praise! Give thanks to HIM, bless HIS name! For THE LORD is good; HIS steadfast love endures forever and HIS faithfulness to all generations.

My old-school historic imagination sees the Kingdom of GOD as this gigantic castle with a small, narrow gate (Matthew 7:13). No moat. No drawbridge. No archers in the turrets. Just a gate, and a decision whether or not to go through. It looks like it's too small to be the real entrance, not for something so large and beautiful. So people think that's a service door, or a closet, or an entrance to nowhere.

I remember going through a narrow door and how it led me to the Kingdom of GOD. Inside I found the Royal Court, welcoming me and wanting to share its love and joy with a person still carrying around the weight of the past. Mind you, going through that narrow gate has not been without pain or temptations or hard decisions to leave what used to bring me pleasure behind. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.

No Compromise

Grandfather Francis didn't put directions on his cards and scraps of prayers for what part of the church service they applied to, but I gather this one came at Communion:

Dear HEAVENLY FATHER, in this solemn moment and in this sacred place, we pause to remember the LORD JESUS CHRIST and HIS willingness to die upon the cross rather than compromise the cause for which HE was sent. And as we partake of the loaf and cup, may we just as realistically partake of HIS life and go from this place to do our full share in the fulfillment of HIS prayer, "THY will be done on Earth, in HIS NAME. Amen."

1 Corinthians 11:27-32 (NIV) warns us not to take Communion lightly: "So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the LORD. Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup. For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of CHRIST eat and drink judgment on themselves. That is why many among you are weak and sick, and a number of you have fallen asleep. But if we were more discerning with regard to ourselves, we would not come under such judgment. Nevertheless, when we are judged in this way by the LORD, we are being disciplined so that we will not be finally condemned with the world."

It's not some ritual. It's not snack time. It's a reminder of CHRIST'S sacrifice for us, and a reminder for us to come to GOD with our sins and ask forgiveness before we partake. Remember, GOD doesn't expect us to be perfect (nor can we be), but he does expect us to be honest with HIM.

Who Controls You?

I found this particular prayer written on the back of a letterhead for Charter American Mortgage Company in Shawnee Mission, Kansas. I remember Grandpa had loads of this stationary, which he was more than happy to share with his grandchildren, who used it for myriad doodles and drawings, mostly on the back of the page.

(Update: My Dear Aunt Susan tells me: "I worked as a temporary, then a full-time employee for Charter American Mortgage Company in the late 70's. This very small company went through some ownership changes and then moved in with a large property management company in Kansas City. We had to have all new stationery printed with the new address, thus the 'perfect artistic sketching' paper that your Grandfather acquired. I noticed that he used some of this for his prayers, which made me smile, as your Grandfather practiced, 'Waste not, want not.'")

On the back of this one, he writes:

O LORD, renew our spirits and draw our hearts to THYSELF, that our work may not be in us a burden but a delight, and give us such a mighty love for THEE as may sweeten our obedience. Oh, let us not serve THEE with the spirit of bondage, as slaves, but with the cheerfulness and gladness of children, delighting ourselves in THEE, and rejoicing in THY work.

Psalm 37:4: "Take delight in the LORD, and HE will give you the desires of your heart."

Let's not kid ourselves. Work is work. That's why it's called work. But doing GOD'S work is a different job, that calls for different frames of mind. A relationship with GOD is not meant to hold us down; it was never meant to. GOD gives us a great deal of liberty, but as Bishop Fulton Sheen once said, true freedom is freedom to do what we ought. We're not controlled by either our own selfish desires or some totalitarian state, but only by what GOD wants from us.

The Final Cut Is The Deepest

Reel To Reel: Saving Mr. Banks

Going Rate: Worth matinee price
Starring: Tom Hanks, Emma Thompson, Paul Giamatti, Colin Farrell
Rated: PG-13 (but really could be a simple PG)
Red Flags: A couple of brief, fleeting swear words; intense depictions of alcoholism and a near-suicide (which falls into that hideous MPAA catch-all of "thematic elements and some disturbing images" -- anything intensely thematic is not going to get by with a simple PG in the ratings system we're working with)

As I watched Emma Thompson's portrayal of Mary Poppins author P.L. Travers, I could not fathom how such a stiffly tart-tongued English author could create one of the most endearing characters of children's literature. In 1961, Travers reluctantly sold Walt Disney the film rights to Poppins on the condition she have script approval, and Saving Mr. Banks is the story of the famous nanny's transition from page to screen.

We meet Travers as a struggling author, goaded by her agent into flying to Hollywood to meet with Walt Disney and the picture's writers and composers. She is simply incorrigible, to use a proper English term, playing Travers with unforgiving starchiness. Along the way, we see flashbacks of the author's childhood in Australia, where her imagination blossoms in the shadow of an alcoholic banker father (Farrell), the same one who feeds the playful fantasies that would become the raw material for her novels.

Walt Disney (Hanks) is the tenacious yet folksy studio mogul who's been politely pestering Travers for years to let him make a Poppins film. Yet the author brushes his charm aside, insistent on having things her way. Having no love for Disney's films, his empire, and particularly his animation, she clutches the paperwork for the film rights like bait in front of him, unsigned until such time as she is satisfied, which looks like an impossible feat. Hanks has Disney's light Missouri drawl and mustache, but not much else. While he turns in an excellent performance, as we've come to expect from him in so many roles, he seems more like Tom Hanks doing a Walt Disney imitation than Disney himself.

The film's screenwriter Don DaGradi (Bradley Whitford) and musical composers Richard and Robert Sherman (Jason Schwartzman, B.J. Novak) find themselves confused and frustrated over Travers' script demands, correcting and objecting to the smallest script details, including whether Mr. Banks -- the patriarch from the Poppins' books -- should have a mustache. Her version of Poppins is devoid of any screen magic, something blandly British and grounded in reality. And yet Travers leaves them with enough for a coherent script and songbook, even as she objects to her novel becoming a musical. Just when the creative team is making a heartening breakthrough, hope sinks when Travers learns how Disney wants to make the film's penguins dance.

Saving Mr. Banks is a Cliffs' Notes version of a complicated and tortuous relationship between Disney and Travers. It leaves us with a Hollywood ending and hints at a Hollywood epiphany. In reality, the relationship between the two soured after Mary Poppins' release. The mogul refused to make changes to the film requested by Travers immediately after the Hollywood premiere. Travers never forgave Disney for that. Decades later, she refused to let the studio have any part in a stage version, even though it used several of the film's songs. Disney used the enormous profits from the movie to bankroll Walt Disney World in Florida, although he died in 1966, not long before construction began. Travers passed away in 1996 without allowing another Poppins film to be made from her numerous writings. She had script approval to the end.

Be sure to stay through the credits of this film to hear the real P.L. Travers working on the script. Also, the film's PG-13 rating is an exaggeration. It's fine for children 10 years and up. Disney has released films with scarier scenes -- excuse me, "thematic elements" -- that got softer ratings than this.

Being A Giver

I found this prayer from Grandpa on a file card:

OUR FATHER, help us to appreciate the joy of giving as we hear of YOUR BIRTH. Help us to take care of those less fortunate. Let us remember of the loved ones unable to be here. YOUR short life was a life of giving. May we remember this. For these things we ask in YOUR NAME. Amen.

I read this and two verses jump to mind.

First, James 1:26-27 (NIV): "Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless. Religion that GOD OUR FATHER accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

And then 2 Corinthians 9:7-8: "Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for GOD loves a cheerful giver. And GOD is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work."

You give, you get. But getting isn't supposed to be the point. I know you've just heard that a few times during the Christmas season -- which ends on Epiphany by the church calendar, but is already over for most of us. You've probably heard it in a few soggy, cheesy forms, but the facts don't dilute. People will know you by your deeds long after your words escape their memories. Okay, there's another one of those soggy cliches we keep hearing. It's only a cliche because so many people scoff at it.

Would Grandpa Call That A Blessing, Or Something Else?

On one of the many scraps of paper Grandfather Francis left behind, among his many prayers he used in church services, is something resembling a definition. Yet he doesn't say what word he's defining. I would like to think he left it behind for me to figure out...

The act of dispensing; a dealing out. That which is bestowed on or appointed to one from a higher power. One of the several systems or bodies of law in which at different times GOD has revealed HIS mind and will to man, or the continued state of things resulting from the operation of one of these systems. The period during which a particular revelation of GOD'S mind and will has been directly operative on mankind.

My first guess at what Grandpa is trying to define is "blessing." But that's my optimistic side, and things are never that easy. Feeding the first sentence into Google produces the word "dispensation," which is more likely what he was getting at. It is both a noun and a verb, just as "blessing" is a noun and a verb.

Not every dispensation from GOD is a blessing, but more of them are than aren't. My takeaway from this is a reminder that even though GOD loves us and sent HIS SON for us, we can't ignore that HE will dole out justice (Hebrews 10:26-31). I don't know in what context Grandpa was using the above definition, but GOD'S truth will help fill in some blanks.

Last Week, And This One

Several months ago, Dearest Aunt Susan sent me a collection of prayers written by my paternal grandfather, Harold Francis, when he served as an elder in his church. I asked for them out of hunger, realizing I might learn a little more about the man I knew for so long yet knew so little about. I knew him as grandfather. I knew about his service in World War II as a cryptography specialist. I knew how he couldn't stand camels while stationed in Egypt. I knew how he loved pipes, politics, and all sorts of weird toys like the mechanical-elf bell ringers for Christmas and the frog that croaked when you walked by it. He loved his wife, Martha, only to lose her years too soon and end up alone in an oversized house in Overland Park, Kansas. And I gather he loved his special friend, Fern, who served as his companion right up until the night of his death on Christmas Eve, 1999.

What I didn't know about was his service to GOD. When that packet of prayers arrived in a plain brown envelope, I emptied out a hodge-podge set of writings on notecards, stationery and legal paper. For Grandpa, the medium wasn't important as the messages. He put them down on what he had.

And what were his messages? What did he care about when talking to GOD? Prayers reveal what's in the heart of a person, and although his denomination probably set some ground rules, Grandpa still chose his own words. So for these 30 days, let me take you into Grandpa's heart, one prayer at a time.

Bow your heads, and let us pray...

OUR FATHER, we thank THEE for the light this morning. Endue our hearts with gratitude and love for the blessings of the past week, and direct our conversation and daily walk through the coming week. Grant that we may render THEE service that will not only give us joy and comfort, but that our example and influence will lead others to love and serve THEE. May we realize and appreciate every day that all good things of life come from THY mercy and gracious kindness. All this we ask for CHRIST'S sake.

Greed Is Good, But Girls And Drugs Are Better

Reel To Reel: The Wolf Of Wall Street

Going Rate: Worth matinee price, if you have the stomach for it
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jonah Hill, Rob Reiner
Rated: R (but really deserves an NC-17)
Red Flags: Graphic scenes of sex, graphic talk about sex, graphic use of cocaine and quaaludes, copious use of the "f" word -- more than 500 times. Not for teenagers, and not for many adults either, unless you are seeking to teach or learn a twisted lesson on how money and power corrupt absolutely.

The Wolf Of Wall Street is a three-hour orgy of money, sex and drugs -- but mostly sex in gratuitously unashamed bursts interspersed with scenes of drug abuse and gritty frat-boy conversations about money and how to make it.  Directed by the great Martin Scorsese, people will remember it more for its unrestrained hedonism rather than its subject:  real-life stock hustler Jordan Belfort, who did two years in prison on charges of manipulating markets by pushing nearly worthless stock as part of a scheme to make his cronies rich on the backs of anybody pushing a dollar his way.

We meet Belfort (DiCaprio) head-on as somebody who loves everything in excess, and he narrates his rise to ruthless power broker from a phone-punching cold caller.  Turned on by both the excitement and courseness of the stock game, and with some disgustingly frank advice from a supervisor, he does okay for himself until Black Monday of 1987 leaves him without a job.  Through a newspaper ad, he finds the only place hiring stockbrokers is a storefront brokerage house pumping penny stocks for outrageous commissions.  Belfort's hard-driving selling skills quickly earn him money and respect, and with a newfound partner, Donnie Azhoff (Hill), he starts the Stratton Oakmont brokerage inside an auto-repair garage.  We see Belfort train a gallery of people who, to quote Gordon Gekko, "wouldn't know preferred stock from livestock" using a script designed to help them close even the most wary of investors in one phone call.

Stratton Oakmont quickly expands, as does its decadence.  Belfort gladly rewards his associates with booze and hookers, charging a lot of it to an American Express account.  Its employees wallow in depravity as the sales office becomes a circus of hard selling and insatiable indulgence, where signs tell people not to have sex in the bathrooms between certain hours.  Outside work, it only gets bigger and bolder as Belfort holds huge parties with even more Neandrathal behavior.  One scene is devoted to an office conversation about throwing midgets at a target for an office promotion.  Amazingly, nobody seems to draw any lines -- unless they're lines of cocaine -- leaving me to wonder whether Belfort attracted these kinds of boors or created them on the job.  He brings in his father Max (Reiner) to help keep some semblance of order, but his role is largely to wander through the picture in disbelief at the massive degradation of standards and deal with the lawyers.

But the office antics are nothing compared to Belfort's big vices:  sex and drugs.  He tears through cocaine and quaaludes multiple times a day, as do his pals, often in conjunction with lewd acts with women, which the film throws at us glibly and without remorse.  At times, the film gets so wound up in its lust and ludes that it loses its focus from a tale of excess to just excess. Nowhere do we see the effects of Belfort's firm on investors, who were mostly super-rich, and the film hints they could afford a rip-off or two.

Stratton Oakmont can't rake in millions of dollars on penny stocks and IPO fraud without somebody getting hurt, and eventually the feds take notice.  FBI agent Patrick Denham (Kyle Chandler) stays on Belfort's tail, but can't move in for the kill as the firm's employees confound or block investigators.  Belfort decides it's time to move money offshore, resulting in logistical problems that signal the beginning of the end of this corrupt Roman Empire of the financial world.

The Wolf Of Wall Street is a longer, crasser version of Scorsese's Casino, which was also crass, but its crassness was redeemed by its compelling characters and brisk pacing.  Take nothing away from Leonardo DiCaprio, though.  He envelops Jordan Belfort to the hilt, occasionally showing a hint of humanity, but mostly showing his overpowering greed which makes Gordon Gekko look like a two-bit broker. His twisted, hard-charging speeches on salesmanship are one of the film's few redeeming qualities, but even that seems to be pushing it. Everybody else in this film is along for the corrupt ride, save for possibly Jonah Hill, whose relationship with the title character gets to expand outside of wild parties.

I needed a shower after I saw this. I also needed to avert my eyes several times (Psalm 101:3: "I will set no worthless thing before my eyes") to edit out the most egregious displays of sexual vileness. Fortunately, my Royal Father and Queen Mother watched American Hustle a few screens away in the same multiplex.  Having read some advanced write-ups, I warned them this is not a film I would be comfortable seeing with my parents.  I was correct.  Some scenes seem more apropos for a porn flick than a Scorsese flick.  How this film dodged an NC-17 rating baffles me, leaving me to conclude it got in just under the wire, somehow convincing the MPAA that its sex wasn't excessive enough or long enough to warrant an adults-only certification.  That's a sales job Belfort would be proud of.

The Altar Is Open

On this Christmas Eve, I present to you a true story from August 2011, of finding GOD in a storefront church.

The church on 4th Street in Flagstaff evades us. Nearly hidden in a strip mall, we overshoot it by about three streets, ending up at the top of the hill where the bigger churches stand.

We are hitting the streets in Scottish mode, dressing in our tartan finery on the summer morning after a Highland ball. I choose my red Royal Stewart kilt outfit and blue Jacobite bonnet with the red-and-white diced hose, and she matches it with her tartan dress and red shawl.

We finally locate the New Testament Christian Church in the middle of strip mall, right next to the shell of an old printing company. A man in a suit waves to us as we pull up to the door next to a homemade sign hanging in the window.

Madame and I glance at each other.

"Do you have a bad vibe about this place?" she asks.

"No."

Not a bad vibe, but a curious feeling. If GOD is working through this couple to lead us to this micro-church, maybe there is a reason we need to be here.

"GOD led us here," I said.

That man in the suit, Pastor Leonard, welcomes us into a small room of white walls and metal folding chairs with hymnals resting on the end of each row. A worn console piano stands in one corner. The pulpit stands in the other. In front of both of them, a prayer altar waits, presumably with room for two, flanked with boxes of tissue.

Madame and I quickly find seats, and the hymnals immediately attract her attention. Pastor Leonard's wife engages my lady in conversation as Madame flashes back to the church of her youth, that old-time religion with the prayer books instead of the praise band. I quickly deduce Pastor Leonard's wife is the one who had handed Madame the business card last month at the Flagstaff Celtic Festival that is our invitation for this morning.

"A lot of people arrive at the last minute," Pastor Leonard observes as the 11:00 service time draws nearer.

Two more women enter, one with a baby. They sit across from us, quiet and unfazed by this strange couple in bright Scottish dress.

Pastor Leonard starts things off with a prayer, a very charismatic prayer, the kind where people stand up and hold their hands up as the leader radiates with passion towards Heaven. I have not ever experienced anything like it in any church, not the Presbyterian Church of my youth, or the Cool Church of my present, or the other churches I have visited at one time or another. Feeling a bit awkward about it at first, I dive in with my hands out.

Our pastor switches to the role of music director as he sits down at the battered piano and invites us to turn to "Washed In The Blood," one of those old-time Gospel favorites. His voice booms through the microphone as the console instrument resonates powerful chords at full volume -- joyful noises, even if he makes some changes.

"I had to change the key on that," he admits with a humble, aw-shucks demeanor. "One of the keys doesn't work on that piano."

He soon makes another role change, to that of usher, as he collects the offering... from all four of us parishioners in the room.

Those other people who Pastor Leonard thought might show at the last minute have not arrived. He is preaching to his wife, his daughter, two ladies, one baby, Madame, and myself. This is more prayer meeting than worship service, but our Pastor goes on undaunted by the numbers, confident in his mission as he plunges into his teaching from the book of Isaiah, on what it means to be "Washed In The Blood" of CHRIST, as we had just sung.

Over the next half hour, he delivers a teaching of one part sermon and one part blue-collar stand-up act.

"But Pastor Leonard," he calls, his voice morphing into a high-pitched wail to imitate those people who think they are faithful but aren't, or weren't sure if they were.

And yet, he doesn't sound like an evangelist nor a televangelist, but rather just a guy who's own fire for GOD wants everybody to know it in his own way, freely admitting he had made lots of sinful choices before Getting Right With GOD. It's a refreshing honesty, or maybe it sounds fresh because we're sitting so close to it. It's GOD straight up in my face, undiluted, unhindered by what others would call a safe distance or an indoor voice.

As he winds down his sermon, he invites us again to pray with him, charismatically and to have our own conversations with GOD, especially if we feel we have unfinished business with HIM.

"And if you wish to come up here," he said, "the altar is open."

"Do you want to reaffirm?" Pastor Leonard's wife says.

Madame and I turn to each other. We didn't need to say a word.

Seconds later we kneel at that altar built for two, Madame in her plaid dress, me in my kilt, hands folded, heads bowed, Pastor Leonard singing with all his might as he plays the piano, his wife praying with exaltation and encouraging us to speak up so GOD could hear us. The tissue waits for us, but we won't need it.

The only things I can ask of GOD in that moment is for HIM to forgive me, to use me, to guide me. That's all I can see from where I kneel. Anything else seems self-serving in that moment, surrounded by strangers praying for us, not minding our clothes. It washes over me like a second baptism. I can tell Madame is hungry for it. She needs it. I need it.

The two women and the child leave shortly after the service. I can't tell if they've learned anything or made any connection with their MAKER, but Madame and I stay and talk with our newfound pastoral friends for what seems like half an hour as we share our lives and our love of history, particularly Scottish history on this day.

Eventually Madame and I climb back into the car.

"Remember what I told you?" I say. "GOD guided us here for a reason."

The reason stood clear: A church is not merely a building, but a group of people gathered in GOD's name. It's not about the pulpit or anything else up front, but the effort we put into understanding what GOD is trying to say to us, and the willingness of people to take up the mission of helping us along the way.

EPILOGUE: Sadly, the little storefront church is gone now. I have not been able to find Pastor Leonard or his wife, but I am sure GOD is taking care of them and leading them on to the next missionary assignment.

Everybody Wants A Piece Of The Action

Reel To Reel: American Hustle

Going Rate: Worth full price admission
Starring: Christian Bale, Bradley Cooper, Amy Adams, Jeremy Renner, Jennifer Lawrence, Robert De Niro (cameo)
Rated: R
Red Flags: Strong language, brief spurts of violence, several scenes of sexuality or near-sex with only partial nudity

American Hustle is a darkly comic extravaganza where everybody's angling to get someplace better by nearly any means possible. But mainly, it's about two budding con artists in the late 1970's trying to pull off the biggest job of their lives, with the feds, the mob, and their lovers hovering around them. And yes, they flaunt those tacky disco outfits, the ones people can't believe were once so chic.

Irving Rosenfeld (Bale) owns a chain of dry-cleaning stores in New York City, but through years of acquired street smarts, he's making his real money fencing pilfered artwork and running a loan scam. At a party he meets Sydney Prosser (Adams), an ex-stripper who's hustled her way into Cosmopolitan magazine and has serious acting chops. They fall in love, but when Rosenfeld nearly blows up their romance in a moment of honesty about his finance racket, Prosser comes back to him with an angle of her own. She poses as Lady Edith Greensly, a dignified English woman with banking connections.

The two of them form a mutually beneficial partnership to shake money out of desperate people until they get caught hustling undercover FBI agent Richie DeMaso (Cooper). The agent offers Rosenfeld and his lady a deal to save their hides: help the feds take down financial fraudsters. Irving comes up with a sting involving a fake sheik to front money for bogus investments. Agent DeMaso's aspirations soon grow bigger when he finds out he can potentially bust politicians and even a mob kingpin.

As the scheme grows bigger, egos inflate, and the danger level rises as Rosenfeld and Prosser's relationship sours. DeMaso develops the hots for the English lady who's going to help him become an FBI star. Irving seems to be on the losing end, setting things up to see them spiral out of control, endangering his adopted son and his estranged loose-cannon wife Rosalyn (Lawrence) -- who could blow the whole operation.

Irving doesn't seem like a con man to us. He's more of a beleaguered businessman trying to work his way out of a bad deal without losing his leisure suit. Irv ends up befriending one of his marks, Mayor Carmine Polito (Renner), a New Jersey pol who has a big heart but needs developers and their money to get Atlantic City's newly-approved gaming industry rolling. Sydney is the more dangerous hustler, a casual seductress who leaves you unsure if she's playing you, even as she describes how she plans to play other people. Agent DeMaso is the pitiful soul, living in a run-down apartment with his dotty mother and a token fiancee while secretly wearing curlers to keep his hair in that hip 70's do. Robert De Nero even makes a short but memorable appearance in a key scene.

This picture kept reminding me of Martin Scorsese's Casino, with its multiple narrative tracks, its tangled web of criminals and love interests, and a world we know is going to come crashing down. But whereas Casino gets more frenetic as the film wears on, American Hustle remembers to breathe and let its compelling characters be compelling. Bale says much of the film was improvised, giving it freshness and energy. I didn't spot a weak performance anywhere.

The movie is loosely based on Abscam, the FBI sting which enlisted the help of a convicted con artist to snare a U.S. senator and several congressmen on bribery charges in the late 1970's. As originally scripted, the picture stuck closer to the true-life characters, but director David O. Russell smartly realized it wouldn't be as fun. He re-wrote it to crank up the intrigue and the danger levels, and it works as an ensemble caper film. Only this isn't about a con, but people trying to con themselves into thinking they can get what they want, any way they can.

One last note: those of you in Southern Arizona, be watching for a line from the fake sheik in this film. You'll know it when you hear it. And it might just have you applauding like several in the audience did when they heard it, myself included.

Fear And Loathing In Panem

Reel To Reel: The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Going Rate: Worth matinee price
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, Elizabeth Banks, Woody Harrelson, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Donald Sutherland
Rated: PG-13
Red Flags: Mostly bloodless gladiator-style competition, mild language, some mildly suggestive scenes including a woman stripping off her dress in an elevator in front of two people without you seeing the naughty bits, which begs that question, "Was this trip really necessary?"

Admit it. You want to see Effie Trinket (Banks), that handler whom taste forgot, thrown into the bloodsport death match of Suzanne Collins' novels instead of the innocent children who are "reaped" to serve the tradition of a corrupt regime. Let's see those frilly ruffles, styled hair, and lip gloss save her egregious bouffancy. Oh, but it's not to be, at least not yet.

The seeds are there, though, and that's primarily what the second edition of The Hunger Games trilogy is, seeds. The film is a continuation of its blockbuster prequel while planting for the conclusion. It's a two-hour, twenty-six minute transitory movie that plays like a loose remix of the original with a few new twists here and there.

Katniss Everdeen (Lawrence) and Peeta Mellark (Hutcherson) are on a victory tour through the districts of Panem after winning the 74th Hunger Games in an unexpected display of love -- or is it defiance? President Snow (Sutherland) thinks its the latter, and he warns Everdeen that if she really loves Peeta, she better prove it or her family will pay. Katniss and Peeta go through with the charade, but Kat still has a thing for Gale Hawthorne (Hemsworth). But all's fair in love and war. Riots are already breaking out in some districts. Katniss soon realizes she has touched off the start of a rebellion against the ruling elite when they go off-script in a speech and a man is beaten in front of her.

The Capitol rulers step up the heat against insurrection as only they know how to do. More beatings. More crackdowns. That'll solve everything. And still the games go on, with new gamemaker Plutarch Heavensbee (Hoffman) stepping in for the man who, let us say, took a permanent leave of absence. Heavensbee has President Snow's ear, and he knows a few things about PR. He suggests a twist in the 75th games, known as the "quarter-quell:" instead of reaping tributes from the general citizenry, why not have an all-star competition drawn from previous winners? We immediately know what that means. Just when Katniss and Peeta thought they were out, they're sucked in again, back to the arena and the reality that they might not make it out.

I will say this again: My chief problem with the Hunger Games universe is understanding how the grossly hedonistic, tackily-dressed citizenry of the Capitol could've won the war that put them in charge. I gather the current generation didn't have to actually fight that war, but I think of that line from Sheriff Buford T. Justice in Smokey And The Bandit: "There is no way, son, that you could've come from my genes." Consider, also, President Snow, who wouldn't have a lick of intimidatory power if he didn't control gangs of thugs. By himself, he has as much menace as a miniature Schnauzer.

Getting beyond that, Catching Fire is two fighters punching for range before mixing it up. Both the state and the germinating rebellion are figuring out what they can do, and we're watching them from both corners. This means the movie drags at times. You won't hear people complaining, though, because part of the Hunger Games' appeal is to get caught up in the universe and its parallels to the corruption in our own. While this second installment is not overtly political, we'll be snarking about one-percenters, elitism and the working class. And we'll come up with some ways we want to see Effie offed in the finale.