A Quarter-Century After ‘The Last Temptation of Christ’

Martin Scorcese’s film, “The Last Temptation of Christ,” recently marked its 25^th anniversary. My, how time flies! When it comes to anniversaries, I must admit that’s not one I’d marked on my calendar.

As a journalist, I viewed "The Last Temptation of Christ" when it was released in 1988. My reasoning was simple: It's hard to comment accurately and fairly when you don't know what you're writing about. There was a great furor over the film, based on a 1953 novel by Nikos Kazantzakis. Churches picketed, religious leaders called it “blasphemous.” And, as expected, the Hollywood elite gushed with praise. Scorsese even received an Academy Award nomination for best director.

The film concentrated on the humanity of Jesus, virtually ignoring His divinity. It depicted Him dealing with all manner of temptations, including fear, doubt, depression, and lust.

In one respect, the film was accurate. Hebrews 4:15 declares, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet was without sin.” Both the author and Scorsese seemed to equate temptation and sin as one and the same. Clearly, as this verse states, they are not.

Temptation, as I’ve explained to men I’ve mentored, is being presented with the opportunity to sin. Sin is considering the temptation and moving into action. For instance, an alcoholic may be tempted if someone offers him a drink. The sin occurs if he drinks it, taking the first step in a downward spiral. We might become angry at someone and feel tempted to strike them. If we decide that seems like a good idea and take a swing, temptation has turned into sin.

So yes, Jesus could have been tempted “in every way, just as we are,” yet without sinning if He resisted the temptations. Which is what the Bible teaches.

My observations of “The Last Temptation” at the time – and still today – were twofold:

1) The film was boring and extremely slow-moving, hardly worthy of any cinematic commendation – except perhaps from the sleep-deprived. It was a box office flop as much for that reason as it was for the protests.

2) If Jesus did in fact deal with a "last temptation," it would not have been to experience some human failing. Rather, it would have been to forgo the cross, decreeing that we're not deserving of His once-and-for-all sacrifice for our sins. Because we’re not.

Instead of paying the price Himself, suffering as excruciating and humiliating a death as anyone possibly could, Jesus as God could have avoided the cross. He could have elected instead for us to suffer the consequences and receive the eternal penalty for our sins that we truly deserve.

Thankfully, the Lord did not yield to such a temptation and today, 2,000 years later, the free gift of salvation remains available to all that will receive it. As Romans 5:8 asserts, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Yes, I do believe there was a “last temptation of Christ.” It just wasn’t what Kazantzakis or Scorsese imagined.

What Seashells Can Teach Us

Have you ever walked along a beach covered with seashells? An array of shapes, sizes, colors and textures, all once the dwellings of little sea creatures. Some are cracked or broken, while others have remained intact despite the crashing and smashing of waves along their journey from ocean to shore.

Most of us either just admire them or, if we want souvenirs of our days at the beach, collect a handful. We keep the most eye-appealing and toss the ones that seem less distinctive. But a friend of mine, Erika, after she and her family spent time on the beaches near Charleston, S.C., gained a new perspective from seashells, courtesy of her five-year-old son, Cole.

Ballard family seashells
(Erika Ballard photo)

Upon returning home, Erika was sorting through the shells they’d gathered, deciding which to keep. After asking what his mother was doing, Cole responded, “Well, Mom, we have to keep every one because they are all beautiful and different, each and every one. We have to keep all of them!”

When her son said that, Erika realized she’d been given an epiphany from the sea. “I realized this is how Christ views each of us – beautiful and perfect, no matter our flaws, and I’m so unbelievably thankful that He does!”

We live in a world where we demonstrate partiality to the “pretty people,” along with the rich and ultra-successful. The entertainment world and broadcast media, despite feigning belief in diversity and decrying any form of discrimination, are populated with men, women and children that look good on camera. Overweight people and plain-looking folks are presented, but usually as curiosities. Certainly not as TV news anchors.

But that’s where the biblical distinctive diverges dramatically from societal norms. Comparing the family of believers to the human body, the Bible states, “The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I don’t need you!’ And the head cannot say to the feet, ‘I don’t need you!’ On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor…. But God has combined the members of the body and has given greater honor to the parts that lacked it…” (1 Corinthians 12:21-24).

Recently I was talking with a guy that’s apparently an accomplished handyman. He’s always fixing things, like cars, lawnmowers, chain saws, apparently anything that’s broken. When he asked what I do, I told him I’m a writer and editor. “Oh, I could never write anything,” he said. “Well,” I responded, “I can’t fix things. In fact, the mere thought of a leaky toilet terrifies me.” Our skills differ, but are equally needed.

Like seashells, we’re all special in our own unique way, at least in the eyes of God. As the apostle Peter stated, “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism (is not a respecter of persons) but accepts men from every nation who fear him and do what is right” (Acts 10:34-35).

Colleges and non-profits show great deference to well-heeled donors. Sororities and fraternities choose members with “the right look” or the proper pedigree. Sales organizations seek out staff people that look and act a certain way, snubbing others having similar goals and ambitions, but lacking the specific criteria to qualify for “our team.”

Thankfully, as Erika pointed out, God sees each of us as beautiful and perfect, no matter our flaws. We are, as Psalm 139:14 declares, “fearfully and wonderfully made,” and the Lord is our Maker. So the next time you see a seashell, remember that.

Is That All There Is?

Why is it some people that seemingly have it all together suddenly forget where they put it? Why do individuals who appear to “have it made” embark on a path of self-destruction, often taking down friends and family members in the process?

We see it all the time – on TV, the Internet, newspapers and magazines (for those of us that still read them). Business executives and high-ranking politicians, despite their prominence, influence and huge salaries, experiencing colossal ethical and moral failures. Famed celebrities and professional athletes destroying their lives and careers with drug and alcohol abuse, financial recklessness, violence and boorish behavior.

But you don’t have to be among the rich and famous to experience such personal calamity: The “perfect couple” that breaks apart in a bitter, acrimonious divorce. The pillar of the community who one day crashes and burns in the flames of indiscretion. The pastor whose walk proves unequal to his talk.

Years ago, songstress Peggy Lee had a hit tune with the haunting refrain, “Is that all there is?” Perhaps that’s why the rich and famous – along with the not-so-rich and not-so-famous – often seem so miserable. They’ve achieved lofty goals and realized cherished dreams, but it turns out those weren’t what they expected. Unfulfilled and disillusioned, they too start to wonder, “Is that all there is?”

Are we living for just the tip of the rope?

Recently I saw a video of Francis Chan, a popular preacher and best-selling author (Crazy Love, Multiply) illustrating a key factor in this puzzling phenomenon. In the video, Chan showed his audience a rope that stretched the length of a long stage from which he spoke. He held the end piece of the rope, about three inches long, that had been painted red.

The rope’s entirety, he said, represented the timeline of one’s eternal existence. (In actuality, the rope would have had to be unending, but Chan was making a point.) The three-inch painted segment represented a person’s lifetime on earth. The problem, according to Chan, is we’re living for the wrong thing. “Some of you,” he said, “all you think about is this red part. You’re consumed with this.”

What about the rest, Chan asked? “Everyone lives for the red part. No one’s thinking about the millions of years afterward.”

I think he’s right. What if we viewed earthly life as just a warm-up, and death not as the finish line but as the starting line to a glorious, eternal existence for which this life has been mere preparation?

We see this described in 1 Corinthians 15:51-54, “Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed…. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed…. Death has been swallowed up in victory.”

That is a distinctive of the Christian faith, the earnest expectation and hope believers have for life after death. As Titus 2:13 states, “while we wait for the blessed hope – the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.”

Most of the time, however, as in Chan’s example, we concentrate all of our attention and effort on the tip of the rope, ignoring the remainder that extends far beyond view. Is it any wonder that even the most accomplished, most esteemed, most successful among us are prone to one day look around themselves and wonder, “Is that all there is?”

Finding the No-Complaint Department

A guy in my morning exercise class, whenever he’s asked, “How are you?” often responds, “Can’t complain. No one wants to hear it anyway.” He’s right, of course. We don’t want to hear other people’s complaints. We have enough of our own.

Take the weather, for example: Too hot. Too cold. Too wet. Too dry. Or the government: Too big, too involved, or too controlling. Except when we want highway potholes fixed, relief following disasters, or various services provided when we need them. Then we can’t get enough government.

We complain when our favorite teams and players under-perform. We complain when spouses, family members and friends fail to meet our expectations. We complain when we go shopping: Unable to find a sales associate when we need one. Or feeling harassed when a sales associate hovers nearby. (Admittedly a rare occurrence these days.)

We complain about aches and pains, major and minor. Especially as we get older. It’s almost a contest: “Any complaint you can make, I can make better!”

Even at church we complain: The music’s too fast, too slow, too loud, too contemporary, too old. The sermon wasn’t entertaining enough. Not enough multi-media to hold our attention. The service ran too long, disrupting our mealtime plans. And when we do go out to dinner, we complain about the food and the service.

So it surprised me recently when I spotted a sign in an antique store that read:

“Too blessed to complain.”

Even at its best, this life leaves us discontented,
feeling like there should be more.

When was the last time you felt that way? Have you ever felt that way? In our society, discontent is viewed as a virtue. Marketing people make it their solemn duty to keep us dissatisfied with what we have and where we go. According to them, nothing can be worse than status quo. So it seems unnatural to feel “too blessed to complain,” doesn’t it?

To the contrary, the motto of our materialistic world is, “too much is never enough.” No matter how much we’ve got, we can always complain about wanting or needing more.

This is one reason I’ve marveled at the apostle Paul’s declaration: “for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want” (Philippians 3:11-12).

This is a striking statement, particularly when you consider where he was writing from – prison. No “woe is me”; no “life isn’t fair”; no “why me and not so-and so?” How could Paul avoid grumbling and complaining in confinement? How could he claim to be “content” in jail?

The secret, I believe, was his perspective. Paul remembered what life was like before encountering Jesus Christ, and knew his life with Christ was far better. Even though “before” he had been somewhat of a religious celebrity, and “after” he was treated as a pariah by the religious establishment. Paul recalled during his self-righteous, zealous persecution of those that followed Jesus, his victims demonstrated an inner peace he’d never known – until he, too, met Jesus.

Paul understood by refusing to complain, followers of Christ set themselves apart from people around them. That’s why he wrote, “Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation” (Philippians 2:14-15).

And Paul knew that no matter how bad his life on earth got, another life – a far better life beyond comprehension or imagination – awaited him. So, most likely the apostle often thought, even if he might not have used the exact words, he was “too blessed to complain.”

I’d like to be able to say that – and mean it. How about you?

Letting Their Light Shine

Even though I love sports, I rarely address sporting topics in this blog. But recent comments on ESPN Radio’s “Mike & Mike” program were too intriguing to ignore.

Mike Greenberg, one of the talk show’s two Mikes, was discussing Mariano Rivera, the New York Yankees’ stellar relief pitcher who’s retiring after this season. Most baseball experts consider Rivera the greatest reliever in the sport’s history. He has nearly 700 career saves including the post-season, more than any of his peers, past or present.

But perhaps even more than for his pitching prowess, Greenberg observed, Rivera’s universally admired for “his class,” the dignity with which he “has carried himself” on and off the field.

In fact, Greenberg observed Rivera’s unquestioned respect might be unmatched in any sport. Then the radio commentator searched for comparisons, citing other players who have earned similar acclaim, not only for on-the-field excellence but also exceptional character qualities.

The light of Jesus shining through us
can build a bridge leading to Him.

In particular, he pointed to three from the NFL, all no longer playing: Anthony Munoz, a legendary offensive lineman for the Cincinnati Bengals; Mike Singletary, the fierce middle linebacker for the Chicago Bears; and the late Reggie White, an incomparable defensive lineman with the Philadelphia Eagles and Green Bay Packers.

What Greenberg did not mention, however, either because he didn’t know or didn’t consider it relevant, is all four men – during their careers and afterward – were men of great faith, unapologetic followers of Jesus Christ.

Rivera, for example, has served as pastor of churches in metropolitan New York and his native Panama, and reportedly plans to devote his retirement to Christian and philanthropic work. I interviewed Munoz for a magazine article in 1990 while he was still playing with the Bengals, and he asserted Jesus Christ was the focal point of his life.

Singletary, who went on to coach in the NFL, wrote several books about how his career and faith intertwined. And White became so well known for his outspoken faith in Christ, as well as his defensive skills, he was accorded the nickname, “the Minister of Defense.”

This isn’t to say, of course, that people of high character all follow Christ. Nonbelievers can certainly exhibit good character, while unfortunately not all believers have character traits worth emulating. But what a statement it is that each of the four men recognized, for both their athletic excellence and highly esteemed inner qualities, are among Jesus’ ardent followers.

In Matthew 5:16 He said, “In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” Throughout their careers, these men let the light of Christ shine through their actions.

And 1 Peter 3:15 adds, “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” Because of their on-field successes, along with their extraordinary character, each of these men had countless occasions to give their own answers to people that asked about what made them different.

But you don’t need to be a star athlete, or a famous person at all, to earn this privilege. In our chaotic world, when it seems every day there are too few answers and too many questions, a life set apart by the presence of Jesus Christ is bound to be noticed.

As James 3:13 states, “Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him shine it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom.”

A business person that performs work with excellence and an unwavering commitment to integrity; a teacher devoted to her students, helping them to gain a love for learning and encouraging them to discover and pursue their passions; a retail clerk eager to assist customers find exactly what they need: Each, through their actions, can reflect the character of Christ and demonstrate what it means to “regard others as more important than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:3-4).

If sometimes you wonder, “What would Jesus do?”, then read those words again. That’s exactly what He did.

The ‘Good Samaritan’ and Racism

From time to time we hear about “good Samaritans,” individuals performing unusual acts of kindness – assisting a motorist with a problem on the highway, rescuing someone from a burning building, donating an anonymous gift to someone in need.

But in our increasingly secularized society, fewer people know where the good Samaritan concept began. Spoiler alert: It’s from the Bible.

Luke 10:25-37 tells about Jesus’ encounter with religious leaders that challenged Him. One leader, “an expert in the law,” cited the commandment to “love your neighbor as yourself” and then asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus responded with the story of the good Samaritan.

In the account, robbers had beaten a man on the highway between Jerusalem and Jericho. Two Jewish leaders of high standing – a priest and a Levite – saw the injured man, but instead of stopping to help, moved to the other side of the road and continued on their way.

It was a Samaritan – a man from Samaria – who not only stopped to assist the injured person and tend to his wounds, but also found a place where he could stay and recover. Hence, the good Samaritan.

In one respect, the story of the good Samaritan
is about the evils of racism and prejudice.

But there’s an element to this story many people don’t grasp: At least in one respect, it’s about racism. In those days there was intense animosity between Jews and Samaritans on ethnic, cultural and religious grounds. The Samaritans, whose origins traced to the same Jewish lineage, had intermarried with Gentiles to create a mixed race, greatly despised by the Jews.

So when Jesus noted two of the Jewish elite had taken “the high road” rather than get involved in a victim’s plight, and instead it was a hated Samaritan who performed the act of compassion, it must have stung Christ's confronters.

Had Jesus told this parable in modern terms, it might have been a black man that stopped to assist a wounded Ku Klux Klan member. Talk about turning prejudice upside-down.

Some years ago I was meeting with a young African-American man in a Bible study and he asked, “Bob, if Jesus were to appear and stand in front of me, would He see a black man?” What a great question!

Thankfully, I had recently been doing some reading related to this subject, so we looked at Galatians 3:28, which states, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” As the apostle Paul pointed out, God does not distinguish according to race, ethnicity, gender or social standing.

I also related to my friend what the Old Testament says about how God does see people: “The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7).

In the gospel of John, Jesus demonstrated His opposition to the racism of His day in another way. He and the disciples were passing through Samaria, and Jesus defied cultural norms by talking to a Samaritan  woman – the "woman at the well" – and asking her for a cup of water. In fact, the woman expressed her own astonishment. “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (John 4:9).

This encounter might not seem like a big deal today, but in Jesus’ day – both in terms of race and gender – it was unprecedented.

We find ourselves in an environment more racially charged than it’s been in years, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Prejudice means to pre-judge, usually according to external factors: skin color, race, gender, tall or short, slender or stocky. But that’s not how God sees people. He looks at the heart – the persons we are on the inside.

As followers of Christ – female or male, white, black, Asian, Hispanic or whatever – we need to ask the Lord for His discernment so that we no longer “look at the outward appearance” but as He did, “look at the heart.”

Racism can cut both ways: Prejudice isn’t just white toward black, Latino, Asian, or Middle Eastern. Anyone can pre-judge another, ascribing motivations and making assumptions based solely on the other person’s complexion or external “look.” We must seek to understand not only the hearts of the people we encounter, but our own hearts as well. Who are we pre-judging – and why?

Flexing Your ‘Memory Muscle’

How do my fingers know which keys to strike when I'm writing?

Taking Personal Typing during my junior year of high school, I had no clue it would be instrumental for my career as a journalist. All I knew was I needed to learn the “home row” and train my fingertips to type “ASDF-space” and all the other letters, without staring at the keys.

At the time I considered it preparation for writing papers in college. But my first class in news reporting showed me the genius behind learning to become proficient at the typewriter. (This was, of course, years before anyone had personal computers. Even electric typewriters!) I could pound out articles on deadline without time-consuming hunting and pecking for letters.

Over the years my keyboard proficiency increased dramatically. Secretaries and administrative assistants – whose jobs often revolved around typing skills – would marvel whenever they passed my office and heard my keys rapidly clicking away.

Today, decades after my high school typing class, the skills I began acquiring then continue to serve me well. What’s strange is if you asked me to locate a specific letter on the keyboard, I’d be hard-pressed to do so without looking. As the old Yellow Pages ads used to say, “my fingers do the walking.”

This trait is shared by many others – such as pianists and other musicians, craftsmen, surgeons, even video game aficionados. After years of practice and repetition, their hands and fingers move as quickly as their brains.

It’s called “muscle memory.” One definition describes it as “consolidating a specific motor task into memory through repetition. When a movement is repeated over time, a long-term muscle memory is created for that task, eventually allowing it to be performed without conscious effort.”

In simpler terms, it means doing the same things the same way, over and over, until they become subconscious habits.

Perhaps other uses for muscle memory come to mind, but I think it’s particularly valuable for times when we need to flex our spiritual “muscles.”

For instance, when we face an unexpected crisis, how do we respond: Anger? Panic? Confusion? Or do our first thoughts turn to God, asking Him for direction and assistance as needed?

Or at work, when confronted with a situation that would compromise our values, or we need to make a crucial decision, do we defer to expedience – or do we consult the Lord and pray for His wisdom in doing what is right and best?

Maybe we encounter temptations that plague us. Do we yield to them, playing the “I’m only human” card, or do we run to God for strength to overcome or flee from potential sin?

How do we build “spiritual memory muscles”? There's no quick, simple way. It takes diligence and determination, repetition and practice, day after day. I hate legalism, the religious guilt-trip that tells us we must pray, as well as read, study and meditate on what God says in the Scriptures. But there’s no other way to build a relationship with Him, get to know who He is and who He wants us to be, or learn how He desires for us to live.

Just as one hour of practice once a week will never suffice to develop a virtuoso pianist, an hour a week in a worship service will never result in a faithful, fervent, consistent follower of Jesus Christ.

But time devoted every day in prayer, meditation and reading the Word of God will equip us for moments of crisis, days of decision, and times of temptation. As King David wrote in Psalm 119:9-11, “How can a young man keep his way pure? By living according to your word. I seek you with all my heart, do not let me stray from your commands. I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.”

And the apostle Paul urged his followers in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

If you do that consistently, you can always feel confident of doing the right thing – the godly thing – just as through repetition and practice, I trust my fingers to strike the right keys to complete this blog post.