Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

"Amen I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise." Luke 23:43

There are varying degrees of moral fortitude amongst the characters in Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, the fourth installment in this modern Disney franchise. Then again, it's no surprise considering this is a movie saga about...well... pirates.

Capt. Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) is a lovable criminal - guilty of looting, lying, stealing, and an unquenchable greed for more. We also find out in this film that, a while back, he also snuck into a Spanish convent (thinking it was a brothel by accident) to tempt the young novices to abandon their chaste lives.

One of those women was Angelica (Penelope Cruz), who left the religious life to become a pirate herself and sail as first mate to her father, the infamous Blackbeard (Ian McShane) - perhaps the most sinful of pirate captains, unforgiving of his crew and cruel to anyone that stands in his way. He stands against Capt. Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush), now an officer in the British Royal Navy - yet still guilty of his own shortcomings: vengeance, trickery, pride, and of course piracy - who sails to prevent Blackbeard from finding the Fountain of Youth.

No matter how dark (or at least colorful) their past might be, each of these characters can be redeemed. In a way, we - the audience - are rooting for them. We cannot help but smile at the exploits of Capt. Jack, the wittiness of Barbossa, the spunk of Angelica, or the stylish confidence of Blackbeard, no matter their flaws.

Aboard Blackbeard's feared ship, The Queen Anne's Revenge, a Christian missionary Philip Swift (Sam Clafin) is held captive - but believes and prays for the redemption of his vicious captor. Even the worst pirate that ever sailed is worthy of God's forgiveness and grace, he says.

Swift is a wonderful addition to the Pirates franchise, giving these light-hearted Caribbean romps a good moral center. The missionary acts out of love for all God's creatures, from the mutinous crew of the Revenge to the animalistic mermaids that swim in the deep. In one particular case, he treats a young mermaid Syrena (Astrid Berges-Frisbey) with compassion and respect even though she is capable and willing to attack his crew mates.

Swift's unconditional hope and love for Syrena points to the same unconditional hope and love God has for all people, no matter how good or evil they have been up until now.

One only needs to look at the story of Jesus' crucifixion to see this play out. As he was being nailed to the cross, Jesus looks upon the belligerent soldiers and says, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." (Lk. 23:34) And as he hangs upon the cross, he tells one of the guilty criminals hanging next to him, "Amen I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise." (Lk. 23:43) God offers grace to everyone, even the worst of the worst.

But this unconditional love does not mean we just lay back, do nothing, and accept God's forgiveness. While the Lord offers it freely, it is up to us to receive it - through repentance or by extending that same love to one another.

Consider Angelica who, despite her sordid past, acts out of love, pity, and hope for Blackbeard's soul - and (spoiler alert) is willing to give up her life so that her father might live. Or consider Syrena who re-examines her mermaid tendency to tempt and kill wayward sailors when one of those offers her air to breathe or protection from the sword.

It seems, though, the journey for Capt. Jack and Barbossa is still unfolding. Though both have their kinder sides and moments of grace (Sparrow begins to feel emotion in this film, perhaps the start of something greater), they both still operate out of a playful selfishness.

So thanks to a Hollywood that loves its sequels, the book isn't closed just yet on these characters - just as our Lord is a God of second chances (or fourth or fifth chances in the case of the Pirates movies). We live in hope for these pirate captains (and will await the next installment of the series) just as God looks forward, with giddy and divine anticipation, for our own redemption. Let us pray, then, that our story is one worth the wait.

Bridesmaids

"I neither have silver or gold, but I do have something even better to give you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, get up and walk!" Acts 3:6

Underneath the surface of the movie Bridesmaids, which positions itself as a gross-out comedy for women, there is actually more than the bathroom humor and sex jokes seen in the previews.

This film gives us a peek at the world through the eyes of Annie, a down-on-her-luck Midwestern young adult (Kristin Wiig) who is tapped to be the maid of honor at the wedding of her longtime best friend Lilian (Maya Rudolph), who might also be her only friend.

This invitation couldn't come at a better time for poor Annie. She has been stumbling through life - miserably working behind the counter of a jewelry store since her start-up business (a homemade cake shop) didn't survive the economic recession. She herself has little money to pay the rent on an apartment she shares with a roommate who makes excuses not to pay her half of the bill. The only "romance" in her life comes from a man (Jon Hamm) who uses her for sex - and she drives a run-down car with a missing tail light.

Unfortunately, being a bridesmaid only compounds the problems. At the engagement party, Annie runs into Lilian's new best friend Helen Harris (Rose Byrne), a rich mother who seems to have it all, reminding Annie of how little she has and how unlucky she has been.

Throughout the wedding preparations and in a variety of ways, Annie and Helen continue to spar for the affections of the bride - and in the end, Annie comes out even worse than before. In short order, Lilian makes a stunning change by replacing Annie with Helen for her maid of honor (and soon after, dis-invites her childhood friend from the wedding altogether).

When it can't get any worse, Annie gets fired from her job, kicked out of her apartment, and ends up in a traffic accident thanks to that burnt out tail light. She has truly hit rock bottom.

So underneath all the comedy lies a very real situation. How many of us have been where Annie now sits, alone on the couch, under the covers, and on the precipice of depression and despair? How many of us have hit that "rock bottom" place in our lives when nothing seems to go right and everyone seems out to get us?

Even in Scripture, we have plenty of examples of those who hit rock bottom. Consider Job after his family died, his property was stolen, and his body was plagued with disease. Consider Jeremiah at the bottom of the cistern, thrown in by his own friends. Consider Jonah in the belly of the fish or the Psalmist who declares, "Out the depths, I cry to you, O Lord!" (Ps. 130:1).

So what do we do when we find that low place? What did those biblical heroes do to change their lot in life? What did Annie do when that moment came crashing down upon her?

In the movie, a new friend slapped some sense into our girl. Megan (Melissa McCarthy, who steals every scene and serves as both the comedic and moral compass of the film) visits Annie in her depression and tells her to make an intentional move towards reconciliation. Wallowing in self pity won't do her any good, Megan says. Instead, she needs to look at the good within her and the good that can be done for others.

Annie needed to look at her own sins and shortcomings before she could start to improve things with Lilian. She needed to reconcile with Nathan (Chris O'Dowd), a budding relationship she sabotaged out of frustration. She needed to fix that broken tail light and get back into baking, her true passion. But most importantly, she needed to mend the fractures in her relationship with the bride and even the new maid of honor.

Jesus once said, "If you come to the altar and realize that someone has something against you, leave your gift there and immediately go be be reconciled with that person." (Mt. 5:24)

It's not easy to do, but sometimes we need to shoved. Megan did that for Annie, proving her worth as a true friend. In the Scriptures, Peter does that for a crippled beggar saying, "I have neither silver or gold, but I have something even better to give you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, get up and walk!" (Acts 3:6).

When we're at our lowest, it might seem like money or easy solutions will erase the problems we face - but what we really need is a shove and someone to tell us "Get up and walk!" At our lowest, we feel paralyzed and frightened, insecure and uncertain of the future. That is the time our ears need to be attuned the most to the kind words of friends and the comforting passages of the Scriptures. "Get up and walk!" Depending on the circumstances, we might need to do some interior soul-searching like Annie did in this movie - or we might need to swallow our fear or our pride and confront whatever or whoever is up against us.

In a way, Bridesmaids is a sad movie about a sad person, abused and neglected, financially poor and relationally challenged (and as the film shows, sometimes weddings, a event of great joy and hope, can further amplify the depression of others). But thankfully, the hope that Megan shoves Annie towards doesn't lie too far under the surface of the comedy here.

"Get up and walk!" No matter how low we get, let us attune our ears to the voice of God, the voice of the prophets, and the voice of our friends to hear those hopeful words of grace.

Thor

"The Lord said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' And so I boast most gladly of my weakness in order that the strength of Christ may dwell within me." 2 Cor. 12:9

How is strength measured? In most cases, with brute force. Looking at the movie posters for Thor, we anticipate that we'll see much of the same: strength through muscle, power, prestige, and weapons (just look at that hammer!). Perhaps that's the image the marketing department at Marvel wants to get across - to lure audiences into the theatre... only to have their preconceptions about strength pulled out from under them.

The movie's story follows Thor (Chris Hemsworth), the son of the king of an alien super-race at the center of our galaxy, whose power is purely physical: with his trusty hammer in hand, he can defeat any army and destroy any civilization.

Thor thinks with his muscles, but not his head or his heart. When his coronation ceremony is interrupted by the "frost giants," he exacts revenge on them by visiting their homeworld in an attempt to punish them violently. But his father Odin (Anthony Hopkins) will have none of this - and after rescuing Thor and his friends, banishes his son to earth and strips him of his power.

When Thor lands here, his strength leaves him - and he is as weak as any other man (unfortunately, the filmmakers decided not to strip him of his good looks, a form of great strength on this planet, making this character slightly less believable in his weakness). Nonetheless, Thor must learn other ways to become strong.

Luckily, he has landed right into the hands of a good teacher, the astrophysicist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) - who shows Thor that kindness to strangers, compassion for others, hard work, and earned intelligence are the source of her strength.

Despite the film's flaws, audiences expecting a festival of vengeful strength are treated to the story of a god who learned the greatest power was in the human heart.

In addition, these audiences might not expect that this message is one rooted in Scripture and put so well by a self-described weak man, St. Paul, who writes, "The Lord said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' And so I boast most gladly of my weakness in order that the strength of Christ may dwell within me." (2 Cor. 12:9).

To many in the world, a poor scientist living in the middle of the desert with homemade equipment, seems weak and insignificant. But like St. Paul, she is actually the strongest one of all because she is filled with the strength of Christ - compassion, love, selflessness, kindness, generosity, forgiveness, dedication, and hope. By comparison, a demigod filled with with vengeance, selfishness, narcissism, rage, and violence is the weakest one of all.

Thor must learn the values of Christ to regain any of his strength. Then he will truly be worthy of the hammer and the heroic status that comes with it.

So, too, must we if we really want to be strong. Despite the commercials for Bowflex or the body-building actors like Chris Hemsworth or Natalie Portman, there is a deeper strength that Christ calls us to aspire towards. That strength comes in our humility, our love for others, our respect for life, our forgiveness of our enemies, our daily work, and our hope for the future.

Even the core of our Christian faith is the weak body of a Jewish carpenter dead upon a cross. Yet this simple, crucified man vanquished the power of the gods in human history, replacing the values of vengeance and selfishness with the the gospel of compassion and peace. (it is also worth noting that a world impacted by Christ's message has re-written the tale of the Norse god Thor so that it conforms to the values of Jesus).

May all of us, no matter how weak we are and no matter how insecure, frightened, or flawed we feel, put on the strength of the gospel by living the nonviolent, selfless, and generous lives that Christ invites us to live. Then we will truly wield a hammer more powerful than Thor's and occupy a superhero story more exciting than anything we'll see at the movies.

The Conspirator

"Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you..." Matt. 5:11

Amidst the blockbusters and animated films that occupy the top spots at the box office this spring is a lesser-known film that deserves some attention: Robert Redford's The Conspirator, an historical drama about the trial of the conspirators of Abraham Lincoln's 1865 assassination.

But the film is not titled in the plural, but rather focuses much of its gaze on one singular figure, Mary Surratt (Robin Wright) - and whether or not she was truly guilty of conspiring with John Wilkes Booth (played here by Toby Kebbell) and his accomplices to murder the President.

The question of guilt or innocence is embodied by her lawyer, Fredrick Aiken (James McAvoy), who at first believes she was just as responsible for Lincoln's death as Booth. He accepts the case more as a favor to his mentor, U.S. Senator Reverdy Johnson (Tom Wilkinson), but hopes that the evidence will convince him of the futility of defending such a woman.

Through Aiken, the audience begins to see how corrupt the case against her really was. Using coercion, trickery, populism, and intimidation, Secretary of War Edwin Stanton (Kevin Kline) tries Mary Surratt and the other surviving defendants in a military tribunal - further sealing their fate. Like Aiken, we move from assuming Surratt was probably guilty to feeling that any possible connection to the assassination plot is overshadowed by the corruption of the proceedings.

But unlike Aiken, most of us might have acquiesced to the government's case. It seems like a losing battle, fixed from the very start. However, Aiken sticks with Mary Surratt as his hatred moves to compassion and his suspicion moves to a desire to defend the defenseless.

Because of this, he is destroyed - by the American public who views him as a traitor, by his fiancee who thinks he has chosen a Confederate sympathizer over her, and by the military lawyers who exclude him (a decorated and wounded Civil War veteran) from any further honors or acceptance in their community. Despite the onslaught of criticism and rejection, and perhaps fueled by it, he stands even more aggressively for Mary Surratt.

Jesus spoke of people like Aiken when he declared in the Sermon on the Mount, "Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you" (Mt. 5:11). The Lord is speaking about those who maintain integrity and righteousness even when the pressure mounts and common sense compels us to veer from that path.

Even more, it might be understandable if the person who Aiken was defending was someone he loved and honored all his life. But Surratt has no prior relationship with her lawyer - and as someone who sacrificed so much in the fight against her cause, Aiken begins his connection with his defendant with seething animosity. She is the enemy - but his love of the law of the land he nearly gave his life for in the Civil War pushes him to stay the course.

Whether he knows it or not, he lived up to Jesus' command to "love your enemies" (Mt. 5:44) - and does so despite the greatest odds.

Most of us would defend our families and friends, our loved ones and the people to whom we admire and cherish, without much hesitation. But would we do the same, would we risk everything we have built up in our life, for the people we cannot stand? Would we lay down our lives for our childhood bullies, for the boss who humiliates you in public, or for the terrorist who conspires against us?

This is the radical call of Jesus - to give everything for others, even those we cannot stand. For Fredrick Aiken, this was Mary Surratt. Who is that person or persons for us? This film reminds us that, to conform to the gospel of Christ, our love must extend all the way to the person that disgusts us the most. Only at that moment, as Jesus promised those who are persecuted and spat upon for such great love, can we truly "rejoice and be glad... for our rewards in heaven will be great beyond measure." (cf. Mt. 5:12).

Doctor Who

An Inter-Dimensional, Inter-Stellar Look at Resurrection, Regeneration, Humanity, and Salvation

Doctor Who (1963 to the present) has the distinction of being the longest running science fiction show on television for a simple reason: regeneration.

In 1966, to keep the show going when faced with the pending departure of lead actor William Hartnell, the producers decided to introduce the idea of regeneration - where The Doctor would transform into a new body when the previous incarnation had "died." So in that year, a new actor (Patrick Toughton) was able to step into The Doctor's shoes thanks to this ingenious idea.

This brilliant programming move allowed eleven actors to assume the titular role over the decades since. It's the same essential character, but eleven different incarnations with unique physical and emotional characteristics.

For Christians, this sounds a bit familiar. As we approach the Easter holiday (which may or may not be coincidentally linked to the season premiere of the series each year), regeneration hints at the concept of "resurrection." Of course the two ideas are theologically different, but one can't help but find parallels and similarities:

In order for regeneration to take place, the body of the previous Doctor needs to physically die - just as the resurrection of Christ could only occur when Jesus had been crucified.

Even though Jesus knew of his resurrection, he still feared death as seen in his experience in the Garden of Gethsemane. Similarly, even though The Doctor knows he will regenerate, he is truly frightened and anxious about his current body's eventual death.

In most cases, the Doctor dies to save another's life, sacrificing himself for the sake of humanity, which is precisely the reason Jesus died upon the cross - to sacrifice for and save us.

And when regeneration happens, the Doctor acquires a new appearance, unrecognizable at first to anyone, even his companions. But when he speaks, people somehow know it's still The Doctor. In much the same way, we hear in Scripture of Mary Magdalene and the disciples on the road to Emmaus not being able to recognize the Risen Christ at first; but once he speaks, their hearts burn within them - and they know with certainty that this is Jesus.

Now let me be clear: The Doctor is not The Messiah. But his fictional tale gives us a new yet timeless dimension (quite literally) to the Christ Figure.

Doctor Who reminds us that we need to be saved. In almost every episode, humanity (or some alien race somewhere in the universe) is under attack in one way or another. To respond, people (or extraterrestrials) usually look to violence and weapons to save themselves. But it never seems to work out so well.

"Put your sword away, for all who live by the sword shall die by the sword!" proclaims Jesus (Mt. 26:52) and echoes The Doctor, who prefers to save people without using a single weapon. Like Christ, The Doctor's words, compassion, and sacrifice are the things that save the day.

One of the bad habits of society today is our need to fix everything ourselves. We seem to have this belief that because there is hardly a problem we cannot solve, we can save ourselves from any problem. The economy, medical conditions, poverty, and rush hour traffic are all things we keep trying really hard to save humanity from... but try as we might, we cannot do it all. Look at the weather: everyone's been complaining about it since the dawn of civilization, but no one has yet been able to save us from hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, and cloudy days.

Even in our struggle with our own selves on this planet (in genocide, oppression, and terrorism), we have this misguided notion that we can take care of everything - and in this conviction, we often turn to violence and war as the route to salvation.

But this is what is so radical about resurrection and about Christ (and echoed so well in Doctor Who)... we are saved by the peace, selflessness, compassion, and sacrifice of God - who loved us so much he came to earth, took our form, showed us the way of the gospel, and died upon a cross to truly save the day.

In a way, these stories remind us of our helplessness - and this is a word few of us want to claim. It makes us feel weak, unimportant, and vulnerable. Everyone wants to be the superhero. Few want to be the damsel in distress. But it is a good reminder for us, Doctor Who fans or not, to recapture our humility and to let go of our desire to fix everything. Sometimes we simply need to call upon a higher authority.

This is the meaning of resurrection: that salvation doesn't always come by our hands.

Scholars for generations have tried to explain or describe "resurrection" and "salvation." But just like explaining the nuances of inter-dimensional travel in a 1950s British police box that's bigger on the inside than on the outside, these theological concepts go beyond our comprehension. Catholics call it a "mystery," which has caused some to throw up their hands in desperation because they cannot fix it or understand it... but again, even in defining the terms, we are called to humbly admit our helplessness.

This notion challenges me as well. I like control. I like to fix things. I want to save the day when others need me. Sometimes it works but sometimes it doesn't - and I am reminded of my place in the universe. Luckily, Doctor Who helps me to let go.

The Doctor reinforces the fact that, at any given point, there are a million problems waiting to be solved - whether they are Daleks poised above the earth, Silurians plotting their return underground, Weeping Angels waiting in darkness and stone, or our own wars, diseases, and traffic jams. With all that, what can I do on my own? Answer: very little.

But that's when The Doctor swoops in on the TARDIS, taking care of those pesky problems in short order - a fictional analogy to Christ, who is the source of all hope and the one for whom the multitude of problems we face is never overwhelming. God will always have the final word.

So this Easter, when we celebrate the victory of compassion, love, and justice over all the struggles that the world can throw at us, let us be thankful that we are a people worth saving and that being dependant upon God isn't such a bad thing after all.

The Agony in Bedford Falls

"...to strengthen him, an angel from heaven appeared." Lk. 22:43

Some days, we feel like George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) from It's a Wonderful Life (1946).

Like him, we've grown up with dreams that would take us far - yet still remain grounded in reality, hoping for a big break sometime soon. And like him, we're now enduring our own great depression in the early 21st century, trying to make ends meet and not knowing when relief is coming. We go to work, do our part, help where needed - with what little we have.

Yet living in such circumstances means that we might also be on the precipice, like George Bailey, worried we could fall at any moment and snap under pressure.

Whether it's one more thing piled on us at work or whether it's yet another thing going haywire at home, we might know what it's like to be there. Whether we're struggling with a relationship or the lack thereof, whether we're overwhelmed by anxieties about our health or someone else's, or whether we're lost somewhere in life, we may very well be at the end of our rope.

It's at those low points in life, when we feel almost alone, we wonder where we go next. George Bailey found himself stumbling to a snow-covered bridge in Bedford Falls, looking at the freezing water below, hoping for all the pressures to just go away.

In that moment of desperation, he quietly calls upon God.

It recalls the story of another man, Jesus of Nazareth, overwhelmed by pressure from the authorities, betrayed by his own inner circle, and frightened for himself and what might come next, who felt so alone in the Garden of Gethsemane. "My soul is sorrowful, even unto death," he confessed to his closest friends (Mt. 26:38).

Looking into the night sky that night in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, in his moment of desperation, he called out to God: "Abba, Father, since all things are possible to you, take this cup away from me..." (Mk. 14:36). He, too, wanted all the pressures to just go away.

Jesus, and George Bailey, remind us that, in our darkest hours and when all the anxieties of the world (or at least all the anxieties of our life right now) seem to weigh us down on us, the best thing we can do is be still for a few moments and call upon our God. Internalizing all the fear and frustration will only destroy us from within. Passing our anger and aggression onto others will only destroy our relationships. Instead, we are called to turn to the heavens.

Yell at God if we must. Complain, scream, and curse to the Almighty, if it helps. God can take it.

So what will happen when we look to the Lord in prayer? Will a miracle wipe away all that pains us? Will a flash of light reveal the answers we seek? Probably not. But that's not the way God responds to our prayers.

In the Scriptures, we are told that "...to strengthen him (Jesus), an angel from heaven appeared." (Lk. 22:43). We're not sure how that happened, no matter what artistic interpretations have shown us over the centuries... but I like to think of it like the angel Clarence (Henry Travers) in Wonderful Life.

In the film, George's angel isn't swooping in with wings unfurled or majestic light beaming from the skies. This angel seems like any other guy on the street, albeit a bit stranger than most. In fact, had Clarence not told George he was from on high, no one would have ever guessed it.

Perhaps the answer to our prayers is more akin to this popular holiday movie. Perhaps after taking a quiet moment to lay our concerns at the Almighty, we just need to open our eyes and go back into that harsh world we're trying to escape. Perhaps there we will meet our "angel."

But yet again, we also need to be cautious not to rely on an "angel" suddenly appearing in the course of our lives to take away our pains. (and remember that Clarence didn't take away George's problems either; he simply reminded him of his own worth). We simply need to be open to others, to humility, and to moment of discernment. Sometimes taking time to look back on our horrible day or frustrated life is a worthwhile exercise in prayer.

We all have had and will continue to have Agony in the Garden moments. We might all find ourselves on that snowy bridge in Bedford Falls, at the precipice of indecision. It's okay to be there. God will listen. And we believe that somehow, someway, God will also respond.

The question for us will be: are we ready to receive the response God has in store for us?

Source Code

"And who is my neighbor?" Luke 10:29

Source Code is a captivating sci-fi movie with technological, ethical, and moral questions swirling around at an incredibly fast pace. Amid the action and intensity of this film, social and theological issues regarding the dignity of life and human consciousness, about use and abuse of our technology and our understanding of quantum physics, and about the cosmic reality of alternate universes linger with audiences far beyond the credits.

There are so many religious and spiritual matters at stake here that one could write volumes of blog posts on this film - enough material to last a whole year of conversations.

But for Source Code, what really engaged me spiritually weren't those mind-bending philosophical questions - but instead the perspective of the main character,

Capt. Colter Stevens (Jake Gyllenhaal), an army helicopter pilot now on a mission he can't quite understand. He is sent digitally to a Chicago Metra train for the last eight minutes of its morning commute to discover the origins of a bomb that exploded there this morning. Stevens' mission is not to save the people on that train, but to root out and find the terrorist before he unleashes an even bigger attack on the entire city of Chicago, potentially killing millions of people.

Stevens is sent back in time for those eight minutes over and over again. His military handlers, Capt. Goodwin (Vera Farmiga) and Dr. Rutledge (Jeffrey Wright), won't let him stop until he finds the bomber using whatever means necessary. But each time he returns, even though he learns more and becomes more strategic in his outlook, the bomb again explodes, killing those Metra commuters in yet another universe.

(the following contains plot spoilers, so be warned)

Finally, after many attempts, Stevens locates the terrorist, American extremist Derek Frost (Michael Arden) - and despite being killed in the alternate reality - is able to pass on the details to Goodwin and Rutledge, making this new technology (tapping into a brainwave "source code," hence the film's title) a major success in stopping terrorism before it can occur.

As a soldier, Stevens is taught that the sacrifice of the few is okay for the safety of the many. But it eats him up inside that in one reality or another, those Metra commuters still die (and the fact that millions were saved is little consolation to him).

Capt. Stevens' dilemma is similar to the parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk. 10:29-37) where two people pass by a dying man right in front of them in order to do something that could save many more souls, yet a third traveler is able to see and fix the tragedy right in front of him.

Jesus posed his parable after telling an opponent that the greatest commandments are to love God and to love one's neighbor unconditionally. When challenged, "And who is my neighbor?" (Lk. 10:29), Jesus goes into this familiar story.

Capt. Stevens might also ask his handlers, "And who is my neighbor?" His duty is to save the country, but in so doing, must he also risk the lives of the people before his very eyes? Aren't they neighbors too?

With the help of Capt. Goodwin, Stevens is able to go back one final time to save the people aboard the supposedly doomed Metra train. At first annoyed by these people, he learns to love each of them (and their quirks) with each passing trip into the past, especially Christine, the beautiful woman sitting across from him (Michelle Monaghan).

Those commuters are like the beaten and bloodied traveler in Jesus' parable - that are expendable to Dr. Rutledge and others like him, but who are so very important to the Good Samaritan Stevens. He must save them.

In our own global world, with our eyes so focused on big issues and international concerns, we sometimes lose sight of the neighbors before our very eyes. Like those Chicago-bound commuters, they can be annoying or quirky, but Jesus says they're worth it, too.

When we advocate for life, for instance, we can easily get wrapped up in legal arguments and working in very big ways for the eradication of abortion or capital punishments. But how well do we tend to the life before us - in our daily experiences? How well do we treat the pregnant mother? How often do we pray for the prisoners on death row? How do we maintain the dignity of life for the people in our office, those we pass on the street, those we meet at the restaurant, and those we stumble over on our way to the next important thing?

Jesus calls us to be like Capt. Stevens, fighting for the expendable ones, the forgotten ones, and the seemingly mundane ones in our day to day lives. It's great that we're soldiers in the fight against social wrongs and for the least in society at large, but not at the cost of the people we meet every day.

In one respect, Stevens had it a little easy. It's not hard to care for a beautiful woman like Michelle Monaghan sitting across from you on a Metra train. One wonders if she weren't in his leaps to the past if Stevens would have bothered to care for those other commuters. Thankfully he did, but the bigger challenge lies for us in our everyday lives.

Those seemingly expendable people won't all look so good - yet we are still called to care for them, to look out for them, and to love them unconditionally like the Good Samaritan - for they are our neighbors just as much as the global community in which we live now.