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.

Limitless

"At present, we know partially, but one day we shall know fully as we are fully known." 1 Corinthians 13:12

Scientists say that, during our lifetimes, we use less than 20% of our brains. The movie Limitless imagines a tiny pill that would enable us to use the other 80%.

The lead character, Eddie Morra (Bradley Cooper), begins this story as a creatively-starved (and economically-starved) writer, desperately looking for anything to survive. One day he stumbles upon an old acquaintance who offers him just that... a tiny pill called NZT-48. After taking the pill, Eddie's eyes are opened - and he is able to finish his book and get his life back in order, literally overnight.

According to the film, using the other 80% of our brains means being more aware of the world around us. This newfound awareness helps Morra better recall past experiences, read people's emotions, tap into his inner creativity, and better understand complex situations.

In a way, such intelligence propels the drug's users to unimaginable heights. Eddie cannot resist the experience - and addictively craves more, ultimately leading to trouble, crisis, and even death for those around him. With great power comes great responsibility - yet with Eddie's selfish motives, he struggles with how to handle such wealth of blessings.

In the real world, we don't need a drug to become limitless. Our faith gives us tools to open our eyes and see more clearly, if we are ready to take on this incredible gift.

St. Paul, in his first letter to the people of Corinth, tells the people there that genuine, selfless love is the key to greater clarity and understanding. "At present, we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but one day we will see clearly as if we were face to face. And at present, we know partially, but one day we shall know fully as we are fully known." (1 Cor. 13:12)

God calls on us to be more aware of our world by paying attention to the least among us. God challenges us to listen more attentively and act more compassionately to those around us. God gives us tools to creatively make a difference in the world before us. And God has blessed us with wondrous things and hopes we will remember them and pass those gifts onto one another.

All of these things are only possible by selfless love, rooted in prayer and integrity. No drug, no classwork, and no tricks are necessary to use all of our brains.

Too often, we are so tired and anxiety ridden that we stumble through our lives, giving seemingly unimportant matters (like family, friends, dreams, and faith) less attention than they deserve. But when we live with our eyes and ears open - and a heart full of love - we will be able to accomplish so much more.

With God all things are possible. Or to put it in the context of this film, with God and a reliance on the gifts he blessed us with, there is no limit to what we can do. The Lord be with you in your own quest for a "limitless" life.

Paul

"Even if you don't believe in me, at least believe in my good works..." John 10:38

Paul is a somewhat-crass, somewhat-sweet science fiction comedy about two hapless guys who stumble upon an extraterrestrial in the middle of the desert.

Graeme Willy (Simon Pegg) and Clive Gollings (Nick Frost) are two British comic book writers who go on a tour of UFO sites across the American Southwest. On their road trip, they have an unexpected close encounter with Paul, voiced by Seth Rogan, an alien who has been "among us" since he crashed his UFO back in 1947. Of course, by picking up a hitchhiking interstellar creature, they expose themselves to the authorities - who are hot on their trail.

In a sense, with all their sci-fi experiences, it would seem Graeme and Clive would be the perfect pair to run off with an extraterrestrial. But at first, the two simply cannot believe their eyes. Is it really true?

Questions of skepticism and belief continuously pop up in this movie - squeezed between the barrage of allusions to other films like Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Aliens, Back to the Future, Close Encounters, Mac and Me, E.T., Predator, The X-Files, and Star Trek, among others.

Belief in aliens, government cover-ups, evolution, morality, weapons, and a literal approach to Scripture all get tossed into the mix here. Sadly, all Christians are represented by vengeance-minded fundamentalists - allowing the characters to dismiss all aspects of the faith due to the actions of a few extremists. In a sense, it seems it's easier for the filmmakers to believe in UFOs than the power of God.

In a sense, it's a good argument to wrestle with... if an alien were to come to our planet, how would they understand our faith? What would these extraterrestrials see when they surveyed the religious traditions around the world?

Perhaps they would see that terrorists kill innocent people in the name of Allah. Perhaps they would see pastors abusing their authority by scamming congregants out of money or sexually hurting the children in their care. Perhaps they would see angry, hateful emails forwarded around the Internet, sent by those who claim to be church-going Christians. Perhaps they would see synagogues, mosques, temples, and churches being burned by adherents of another religious group. If this is what they saw, how would they understand any concept of faith?

There are a number of inactive Christians who pose these arguments to us. They see these hypocritical public actions of believers - and dismiss the entire faith because of that.

While it might be impossible to completely silence the extremists and abusers, this reaction is a call to the rest of us - to make Jesus' works of compassion, social justice, mercy, forgiveness, love, humility, and selflessness more visible by his followings in our world today. Our challenge is to erase the stereotypical image of a Christian as seen a movie like Paul: vengeful, close-minded, condemning, fundamentalist, violent, and suppressed.

Jesus himself was troubled by misconceptions of his ministry. Herod thought that Jesus could do magic. The Romans thought he could rally an army against the Empire. The Pharisees thought that Jesus was a morally-loose egomaniac.

After one such skirmish in the Gospels, Jesus told his opponents, "If I don't perform good works inspired by God, then don't believe me. And even if you don't believe in me, at least believe in the good works that I do." (John 10:37-38). In other words, let our actions speak to our faith. And in the meantime, even if others still remain unconvinced, let us continue to do good works.

In the movie, even though Paul the alien dismisses religious belief, he still operates out of compassion for others. He comforts his friends in times of uncertainty and doubt. He rescues his companions from a burning building. He uses his powers to cure blindness and to raise a man from the dead (even though such an act might potentially kill him). Sadly, even when another character kindly says "God be with you" (since God's good works are evident in his little green man), he still pushes it aside.

In a way, Paul had Christ within him - but closed himself off to such a possibility because of his impression of Christians. Even though it was a fictional comedy, this dismissal saddened me.

It saddened me because there are so many people in the world today who have Christ within their hearts and act out of gospel-centered values, yet still regard religion and spirituality as empty, hypocritical, or evil.

What can we do to change that? How can aliens, inactive churchgoers, and the rest of the world see what faith is really all about? How can we share the faith that compels us to live as Christ lived, to act as Christ acted, to speak as Christ spoke, and to die as Christ died?

Going forward, it is my goal that, should I have a close encounter on the side of the road with a stranded alien, that extraterrestrial would understand the faith that drives me to hope, to redemption, and through my actions, make the world (or any world, in this galaxy or the next) a better place for all God's creatures.

The Adjustment Bureau

"For behold I know the plans I have for you..." Jeremiah 29:11

What is our destiny? And perhaps more importantly... is there such a thing as "destiny"? These are the questions we wrestle with in The Adjustment Bureau, a political thriller with elements of romance, fantasy, theology, and science fiction thrown in for good measure.

Matt Damon stars as David Norris, a young congressman who begins his rise through the political system but is quickly distracted by Elise (Emily Blunt), a mysterious woman he unexpectedly meets in the men's bathroom on election night. She so captivates Norris that, despite losing a Senate race, he actually becomes a new brand of politician - blunt, honest, and authentic - rare qualities that are destined to propel him to the Oval Office.

But the original "plan" was that Elise was only supposed to be a temporary distraction on the way to Washington, not the woman of Norris' dreams. When another chance encounter pushes the two together again (and the "plan" goes completely off-course), the Adjustment Bureau steps in.

We aren't exactly certain who the Bureau is, but if taken theologically, it seems that the film's writers believe that God (referred to as "The Chairman" throughout the movie) has position of predestination set for all people - and the Bureau's agents are messengers sent to assure that nothing deviates from the "plan." David Norris, it seems, has set his own course - not letting fate, predestination, or plans get in the way of his love.

Christians have long argued about whether God has a grand plan for us - or if we are completely on our own, making it all up as we go forward. In Jeremiah, God tells the prophet, "Behold I know the plans I have for you" (Jer. 29:11), indicating that there is predestined script which has been hidden to us but completely known to God.

Do we truly have free will or is it an illusion to make us appear that we have the power to control our lives? At one point in the film, one of the Bureau agents says that God has gone back and forth over the history of humanity - and whenever the divine powers let go, bad things happen (the Dark Ages, two World Wars, nuclear proliferation, etc.).

Even when told this, Norris still refuses to go along. Even the temptation of knowing that he could become the President of the United States if he just consented (akin to the story of Jesus' temptation in the desert, as told in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke) - is not enough for Norris to divert from his path towards love.

The emotional captivation and the growing feelings between David and Elise seem to be greater than all the power in the world and the direction of the fate of the universe. This speaks to the ultimate theology that love is the greatest power of all.

In Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, he adamantly declares, "If I speak in human and angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or clashing cymbal... If I give away everything I own and have over my life so that I can boast, but do not have love, I am nothing." (1 Cor. 13:1,3) David Norris seems to believe this. No matter how much power he could potentially have and no matter how close he could come to achieving his dreams, it is all for nothing if he cannot experience love.

Questions about free will and destiny - whether they exist for us and if so, what our future holds and who can know it - are fascinating and theologically-stimulating. Some of us long for someone to lay out a script for us, pointing us in the right direction; others want to live on chance, trusting in their own power to make the best decisions in life.

Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in the middle - where we cooperate with God, making our own choices, based on our free will, but listening attentively to the Lord's voice through prayer, teachers, conversations with others, and in the depths of our hearts and minds, grounded in morals, ethics, and unconditional love.

So again, it comes back to love. When we wonder whether we are making the best choice for our lives, we need to ask ourselves, is this choice the most loving, kind, compassionate, forgiving, selfless, and generous one? If the answer is yes, then we are moving according to the best plan possible. If the answer is no, then we really are moving off-plan - and we might need to adjust our thinking, not by succumbing to a mysterious script policed by emotionless enforcers, but by humbly opening ourselves up to Christ-like love.

We have been given free will, but films like The Adjustment Bureau challenge us to ask whether we are using it in the best possible way. The fantastic idea that God has to step in and control the universe when we abuse our gifts is theologically troubling, but it does cause us to do a little self-examination.

God gives us free will not for our own desires, but so that we can be freed up to be the best versions of humanity that we can be. He gives this gift to us so that we can, in turn, give of ourselves to one another. Have the choices we have made this week been for the benefit of others or have they been for our gain alone? Have the decisions that have been made this week hurt others or helped others? Have they pushed the world closer to the Kingdom of God or farther from it? Questions like these are surely worth pondering.

Theologians, philosophers, and academics can debate predestination and fate all they want. But for you and me, our concern for everyday life is how we make our daily choices and how much love and selflessness enters into that mix.

These are the things that really matter - and if we live in a manner worthy of the Gospel, we won't ever have to worry about any adjustment bureaus or shadowy figures waiting to course-correct us. Let us pray we will all live in such a way, starting right now.

Oscar Scores and Picks 2011

What score and who will score at the Oscars this year?

This year, in advance of the Academy Awards, I would like to focus on two races that have captivated me this year: Best Score and Best Picture.

First, let's cue the orchestra. I believe that music stirs the soul - and as a blog focused on the spirituality of the movies today, I think the musical compostions nominated for Best Score need a little spotlight. A category that is often overlooked, this award highlights the undercurrent of emotion, excitement, and drama which can tie a film together and punctuate the acting, direction, and cinematography.

In the past year, there were a number of good soundtracks, but the five that have filled the Academy's nomination slate give five distinct ways to touch the soul: John Powell's piece for "How To Train Your Dragon" was electrifying, making the viewer feel like the wind was blowing through their face; A.R. Rahman's score for "127 Hours" hauntingly captured the solitude and barreness that the movie portrayed; Alexandre Desplat's simple, flowing take on "The King's Speech" reminded us that despite being king, George VI suffered like any other man with a speech impediment; Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' soundtrack to "The Social Network" was technologically creative, yet with an undercurrent of manipulation and growing frustration, which embodies the creation of Facebook; and Hans Zimmer's intense musical cues in "Inception" complimented the film's journey into the depths of the human mind and its complex dreamscapes.

Each score touched the soul in a unique way - from loneliness to intensity and from simplicity to technologically complex - making it more difficult to pin down one for the best of the year. One way to make a decision is to look at which breaks new ground, where no score has gone before. With that in mind, my pick goes to Reznor and Ross for showing us what the score of our digital age might sound like. As we wrestle with technology and its application in our lives, this score allows us to think and pray on how we might use our viral resources for the good - while still being cautious about navigating our relationship with God and with others in the world beyond the screen.

As for Best Picture, it boils down to a competition between the head, the heart, the memories, and the gut. Of the list, the four movies that moved me spiritually in four distinct ways were "The Social Network," "The King's Speech," "Toy Story 3," and "Inception."

"Social Network" made me think about my relationships in a Google world. "King's Speech" touched my heart with its stroy of triumph over stuggle. "Toy Story 3" was nostalgic for years gone by. And "Inception" mezmorized and excited me about the depths of my dreams and the way to create a whole new idea. Like the soundtracks, each film challenged me to find God in each of those four areas of life: technology, struggle, memory, and dreams/visions.

Each is important for me - but the area that I need to work on most in the future is how I handle the frustrations of life - and "King's Speech" gave a heartfelt response to handicaps and personal difficulties. While I will always be conscious of spirituality of a digital world, my own past, and my visions for the future, those are not where I need to spend time in prayer. For me, it is how to handle life's struggles - and with that, I will be pulling just a tad more for the incredibly well-performed tale of the king and his speech therapist.

On all the other races, I have some picks and favorites - but these are the two that have occupied my prayer this season. Blessings on all the nominees for their craft, their creativity, and their work to make us laugh, cry, think, and yes... even draw closer to God.