How do you watch what you watch?
By / May 9

I’m pretty sure my family was the last one in our neighborhood to get a color TV. It was around 1979. My parents shocked my two sisters and me when they brought home a Curtis Mathis color TV one afternoon. It was a 26-inch screen, enshrined in a built-in wooden stand. Gone were the days of tinfoil on the 19-inch black and white. My 9-year-old eyes dazzled with delight when I noticed that our new TV had 13 different channel buttons. 13! This gave me color access to all of the local channels in the Dallas/Ft. Worth Metroplex. “Diff’rent Strokes” on Friday night, “Gilligan’s Island” reruns after school, and I’m not too proud to admit that I watched a little bit of “Hey! Hey! We’re the Monkees.”

Life was wonderfully simple back then. If you fast-forward to most of our homes today, the scene is a bit different. If you have not “cut the cord” yet, you likely have a minimum of 150 channels on your 70-inch flat screen. It’s also quite easy to see that digital media players and streaming services are quickly winning the day, providing countless options for our viewing pleasure.

And of course, newer shows explore contemporary topics with almost no restraint. The sexual boundaries and standards of our day are different than when I was trying to avoid admiting that I actually liked watching “Little House on the Prairie” with my sisters. Words that used to only appear on certain cable shows are streaming loudly into the bedrooms of teenagers on their phones. This world’s appetite for pornography has become more accommodating since the days of people awkwardly asking a gas station attendant to purchase a covered magazine behind the counter. Disney and other networks see to it that one can rarely watch a show without a positive angle on a LGBTQ character. So, it’s not exactly a hot take to point out that modern media poses a great challenge to followers of Christ.

Christians and media consumption 

So how do we respond?

Years ago, I sat next to a young man on a plane that belonged to a very small, strict sect of Christianity. As we shared our different experiences of the Christian life, he said that no one in his church had a television (“Except for maybe a few people that weren’t truly saved,” he qualified.). While I didn’t share the conviction that true Christians don’t own televisions, I respected the radical measures he took to guard against worldliness. My wife and I actually had long periods early in our marriage where we seldomly consumed any media. It gave us a great foundation for our marriage and spiritual life. Even though we more regularly watch certain programs now, we live imperfectly in the balance of approaching the tricky world of media consumption.

Faithful Christians will have different convictions and land in various places regarding what to watch — or not. The advice is not one-size-fits-all. But we are all called to pursue holiness, and that encompasses every area of our lives. In light of this, I’d like to offer a few suggestions from my personal experience, individually and as a pastor, regarding how to wisely watch what you watch.

Don’t worry about feeling “left out of the loop.” This is not a temptation for all. But sometimes we may tire of being the only person we know that has not seen Game of Thrones or The Sopranos. Maybe you’re not so much jealous of missing the profane content, but you have always prided yourself on keeping up with cultural trends and inferences. That’s when the temptation to just “watch an episode or two to see what it’s all about” comes into play. Soon, the well-written plot and highly developed characters draw you in. Before long, you may be glad you know what everyone is talking about, but find yourself pledging to quit watching the show tomorrow. If that doesn’t work, you vow to never let anyone from church know what you’re watching. Slowly but surely, you are nurturing a genre of entertainment that makes it difficult to “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5 CSB). We must remember that being left out of the loop is sometimes a great way to stay spiritually alive.

Watch as if you’re watching with your mother or daughter. I remember listening to Pastor Alistair Begg on a panel at a conference years ago. The interviewer asked him a question about television. He was asked that because he was sitting next to John Piper. Piper had just been asked what helped him walk closely with God. He mentioned that not having a TV was beneficial to him. Begg was then asked about his television habits. He simply said, “I do watch it. But I try to watch something that I’d be comfortable with if my daughter or my mother were watching it with me.” I realize that how you apply this has a lot to do with the moral fortitude of one’s mother and daughter. But in general, if you asked yourself, “What would Mom or my baby girl think of this show?” I bet we would practice much wiser media scrutiny.

Be mindful of the softening of biblical convictions. The first gay character on television was a guest star on an episode of All in the Family in 1971. Over the next few decades, more shows boldly included occasional same-sex attraction story lines. Pressure from activist groups, especially since the turn of the century, pushed studios to insist on significant LGBTQ representation on the majority of scripted television. The stated goal of such activists has been to normalize gay relationships in every way possible. In that sense, one would have to credit this effort as a massive success. The result is that it no longer feels unusual to most people to watch two gay characters interact, even on a sexual level. 

Is there a connection between this phenomenon and the growing number of former evangelicals that are now gay affirming? It would be difficult to apply research to such a question, but it is certainly worth thinking about. As Christians who lovingly hold to a biblical understanding of sexuality and marriage, we must be mindful of the dangerous effects modern media saturation can bring about to our belief system. We must be vigilant to never let a show normalize the culture’s worldview and weaken our biblical convictions.

See the good and potentially bad effects of filtered streaming services. Personally, I am a huge fan of streaming services that allow viewers to skip profanity, nudity, and graphic violence. The main reason is that I want to see zero nudity in my media viewing. A cursory reading of Scripture makes it clear that believers are not to have a “hint” of sexual immorality in their life (Eph. 5:3). Streaming filters will greatly sanitize your movie nights. However, I would like to offer three cautions regarding these services: 1) While they can clean up the show, they cannot clean up the plot. Some plots are so vile, that cleaning them will literally wipe out the entire show; 2) A steady diet of inappropriate, filtered shows does not help kids and teens discern the course for their media future; and 3) You can’t filter a person’s heart. Ultimately, we can rightly use filter services all while our hearts remain unchanged. We must prioritize evaluating our hearts, and helping our children understand theirs, by constantly asking if our motivation and desire is to honor God with what we watch. 

Lastly, don’t forget about the joy of reading. This probably depends on how you are wired, but visual media tends to create a desire for more and more screen time. A gripping story or a hilarious character always seems like a great way to end a stressful day. Even if you enjoy reading, heavy media consumption tends to lead one to say, “Eh, I think I’d rather just zone out tonight. I’ll get back to that great book tomorrow.” When you see this habit forming, that’s when it’s time to make yourself read more. You may need to declare, “Tonight is a reading only night!” You also may learn to multitask and read while other things are going on. Regardless, make sure that you don’t push the importance of reading, especially the reading of good Christian books and the Word of God, out of your life. 

There are many more things that could be said. As with everything, we must call out to God for wisdom. We must be determined to watch what we watch with godly discernment, for the sake of pursuing holiness. While we will make different choices regarding our media consumption, we must spur one another on to walk in a manner that is worthy of the gospel (Phil. 1:27) in the midst of what feels like an anything-goes culture. As we seek to live in the world but not of it, may God make us more like our Savior and use us to point to the better, more satisfying way that he offers. 

7 great things from a really hard year
By / Dec 16

I love this time of year. In addition to the joy that comes from having extra time off work to spend with family and friends, I enjoy the mood of reflection that comes along with wrapping up one year and preparing to head into another. One of my favorite things are “best of” lists, and because I am particularly nerdy, the lists I pay the most attention to tend to be about books. Speaking of books, I would recommend keeping an eye out for The Gospel Coalition’s book awards each December, which offer particularly strong recommendations for believers. Another list to look for each year is Russell Moore’s books of the year list. (Bonus: for 2020 he also put together a top 20 books in 20 years list that you shouldn’t miss). 

But beyond book lists, there are all sorts of end-of-year wrap-up posts floating around, from personal reflections to world news and events. One I try not to miss is from Google that compiles a video showing us what we searched for each year. So as a thought experiment, I asked myself what things I would highlight from 2020. I know what you must be thinking. Yes, in so many ways it has been an awful year. I trust that the reasons we’re ready to move into 2021 are obvious enough. But before we do, here are just a few things—some serious, others fun—that I wanted to reflect on before we wish this year goodbye.

Robert George and Cornel West

So I’ll break the rules right of the gate by acknowledging that the first thing on my list actually happened around this time last year and not in 2020. But like the arrival of Disney+, it was an unexpected surprise to help me get through a difficult year. Last December, I attended a Trinity Forum event, with an ERLC colleague, featuring an evening of conversation about the subject of friendship between Robert George and Cornel West (we wrote about it here). If you aren’t familiar with George or West, maybe the most important thing to tell you is that these men are intellectual giants on opposite ends of the political and ideological spectrum. But beyond that, you should also know that both are sincere Christians who share a deep and decades-long friendship. 

In a year of cultural tumult and racial strife, having a primer in friendship that transcends political and ethnic barriers was a gift I didn’t know I needed. George and West have significant differences on any number of important issues, the kinds of issues we so frequently blast one another over on social media. And yet these two men model exactly the kind of friendship and understanding that is so desperately needed in this political moment. No matter how strong their disagreements might be, each treats the other as an equal and always recognizes the other’s humanity and dignity.

Each one also had the humility to admit that they know they are sometimes wrong, even about things they believe most sincerely. Watching the two of them on that stage was powerful. And as I tried to grapple with questions of racial justice and fractious politics this year, I’ve reflected on it often. The good news is that they’ve taken that show on the road. You can watch a shorter or longer version of that conversation online. 

ERLC podcast

I won’t take a lot of time on this one because it seems incredibly self-serving. But one of the real highlights of my year was relaunching the ERLC Podcast with two of my best friends. In January, after months of scheming, I convinced Brent Leatherwood and Lindsay Nicolet to try something new and turn the ERLC’s flagship podcast into a weekly culture rundown featuring news, opinion, conversation, and interviews.

We’re still figuring out what we are doing, but we have had a really successful first year and we’ve interviewed some great guests. I can’t name them all, of course, but we’ve talked to some of my heroes like Jen Wilkin, J.T. English, Benjamin Watson, David French, Katie McCoy, Dean Inserra, and Bryant Wright. You can go back and catch the interviews even if you don’t listen to the full episodes. We’ve also built a great team to help us make the podcast each week (hat tip: Gary Lancaster, Meagan Smith, and Marie Delph). 

If you haven’t checked it out yet, feel free to download it in your podcast app: iTunes | Google Play | Stitcher | Tune in  

Gentle and Lowly

As an avid reader, I am frequently guilty of trying to push books that interest me on my friends so that I can have someone to discuss them with. In this case, I don’t feel bad about doing so at all. Dane Ortlund’s Gentle and Lowly was released in April of this year, and every single person I know who has read it has simply raved about it. But this is all the more impressive (and wonderful) once you learn what the book is about. As Dane describes it, “this is a book about the heart of Christ” written for “the discouraged, the frustrated, the weary, the disenchanted, the cynical, the empty.” That’s a lot of us in 2020.

This year we’ve experienced the hardships of a broken world in a way we would rather forget. But whether we’re facing a pandemic or a relative paradise, every Christian needs Jesus.

I often say that Christianity isn’t complicated, but it is difficult. We live in a world that is full of sin and  sickness and pain. And this year we’ve experienced the hardships of a broken world in a way we would rather forget. But whether we’re facing a pandemic or a relative paradise, every Christian needs Jesus. And not just for “salvation” but for life. Apart from the Scriptures, Dane’s book is the place I would point you to connect with Jesus in a fresh and meaningful way. If your soul is weary or if you just want to focus upon our Savior, consider picking up a copy of Gentle and Lowly. You won’t regret it. (Shameless plug: you can hear an interview we did with Dane about the book on this episode of the ERLC podcast).

J.K. Rowling makes a stand for women 

Most people know J.K. Rowling solely as the author of the world-famous Harry Potter series. Growing up, I felt like a fish out of water because I wasn’t a fan. I’m not sure whether it was my Christian convictions or just a lack of interest in the world of fiction. Either way, I didn’t realize it at the time but Harry Potter wasn’t just a popular book and movie series, though it certainly was those things. For a whole generation of kids, that series opened up a kind of alternate reality, as though Hogwarts and all its lore were actually out there somewhere. I say all of that not because there is any need to dispel the fiction of Rowling’s mythic universe, but because recognizing Harry Potter’s massive success actually helps explain her influence. 

Rowling not only wrote best-sellers, but she shaped the imaginations of a whole generation. So this summer when Rowling dared to dissent from the orthodoxy of the sexual revolution, specifically to the ways that transgender ideology leads to the erasure of womanhood, people listened. In fact, her actions caused an epic firestorm both in Europe and the United States. And as a result, Rowling was threatened and attacked with the worst kind of scorn and vitriol. She was even upbraided by stars from the Harry Potter film franchise. But even so, Rowling—who is otherwise progressive on many issues related to sexuality—stood her ground. And the world paid attention. As I wrote about at the time, I think there is something important Christians can learn from her example and her stand on behalf of women.

Standing for Uyghurs

Back in October of 2019, my boss Russell Moore posted a tweet with only two words: Google Uyghurs. Shortly before he did so, some friends of ours were kicked out of an NBA game for holding up a sign with the same two words. The reason? They were a part of a movement to draw attention to atrocious human rights abuse in China. 

For some time, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has been persecuting a minority Muslim population in China. Here is how the ERLC described it in July: “Since April 2017, China has systematically detained more than one million Uyghur Muslims and placed them into what it describes as re-education camps. In these internment camps, Uyghurs are prevented from engaging in their religious practices and forcibly ‘re-educated’ to the Communist Party’s ideological standard of ‘Xi Jinping Thought on Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era.’” 

China has the largest population in the world. The CCP, which exercises total control over the nation’s government, is tyrannical and authoritarian. The CCP routinely persecutes Chinese citizens believed to be political dissidents and egregiously perpetrates human rights abuses against its own people, including minority populations like the Uyghurs. But in addition to all of that, the CCP has basically a zero tolerance policy for criticism of its regime, even from non-Chinese citizens. (Remember the backlash it delivered to the NBA over comments in support of democracy in Hong Kong?)

Here’s why this makes my list. Many times when Christians hear of a worthy cause, we do what we can in the moment but due to the many demands of our lives or our limited attention spans, we usually just move on. In the case of Uyghurs, Christians in the United States have been among the loudest and most persistent voices seeking to defend their rights and calling for an end to these abuses in China.

In addition to raising awareness, we have called for sanctions against China, spoken out about them at the U.N., and opposed U.S. companies purchasing goods that are products of forced labor in China. With every avenue available to us, Christians are continuing to stand up for a persecuted minority. And that is something we shouldn’t forget.

The West Wing and Fresh Prince

If you’ve followed much of what I’ve written, it doesn’t take long to find a reference to the TV series, “The West Wing.” I’ve been into politics since I can remember. When I discovered “The West Wing,” it felt like I had found a show that was written just for me—a serious show about politics that dismisses the darkness of shows like “House of Cards” and rises above the comedy of “Veep.” As a social conservative, I’m often totally at odds with the policies supported by the fictional Democratic administration of “The West Wing.” But even so, in most cases the show also features a brilliant character who opposes their position by making a compelling counter-argument. Grading Hollywood on a curve, I think that is about as much as I could ask for.

But more than policies, maybe the best thing about “The West Wing” is its idealized image of American politics. All of us grow weary of the political fray, of the squabbling and insults and barbs and mistruths. What we want aren’t really politicians but statesmen. We want men and women committed to public service who can rise above the fray—who put the good of the American people above party or ideology. That’s what “The West Wing” provides; not always, but overall. It paints a different portrait of politics and provides the kind of inspiration that those who work in public life need to carry out their work. 

In any case, in the latter part of this year, there was not only a “West Wing” reunion but a “Fresh Prince” reunion as well. (Don’t miss Russell Moore’s reflection on the grace in the “Fresh Prince” reunion here.) Obviously, I can’t endorse everything that was said on either occasion, but seeing some of my favorite actors together again—especially watching the White House gang read through the script of one of my favorite episodes—was truly something cool in the middle of this awful year. And that’s something I’ll take with me too.

Scream inside your hearts

So that’s my list. Well, almost. In a year of plague, where face masks became as essential as undergarments, there is a lot I’ll be happy to leave behind. But one last thing I’ll take with me is a catchphrase gifted to us by a Japanese theme park. “Please scream inside your heart” was supposed to be a clever, I guess, way to mitigate the spread of the virus while allowing patrons to enjoy rollercoasters. Instead, it just became a viral meme.

But let’s be honest—2020 has been a year of screaming inside our hearts. For so many reasons, a lot of them bad, it’s been an emotional year. And in the midst of the sadness and frustration and loneliness, or even joy and elation, when you felt those emotions, you knew you had the option to scream—at least inside your heart. And I put that on my list because unlike 2020, I doubt it’s going anywhere anytime soon.

Russell Moore on Face the Nation
By / Oct 16

Russell Moore joined CBS Face the Nation, Oct. 16, for a discussion on the 2016 presidential election.

Watch it here

The eschatology of Downton Abbey
By / Mar 16

Warning: Spoilers ahead.

Longtime fans of Downton Abbey probably guessed that the show would end with a Christmas special. And they were right; at least, partly right. To be more precise, Downton ended on New Year’s Day, 1926. It turns out, the series finale was less about endings and more about beginnings. It was about the dawn of new age, a new order. It was about the Kingdom come. Indeed, it pointed to the Christian gospel: Christ is not ending the world, but making it new.

Exile:

The episode began with most of its characters in a resigned estrangement. Edith and Bertie, for example, are still not speaking. Edith withheld the fact that Marigold was more than her ward, she was her daughter. Upon learning their true relation, Bertie promptly said his goodbyes. Within the first few minutes of the episode, Edith referred to herself as a “spinster” and “damaged goods,” destined to live a lonely, husbandless existence in her London apartment.

Thomas the footman is beyond Downton’s property for the first time in years, having been pressured into taking a position at a house far less regal and familial. His new benefactors obviously don’t care for him; he’s simply their butler, an employee of the estate. Like Edith’s mess, this exile could have been avoided. From the beginning, Thomas’ wounds were self-inflicted (remember how he got a built in his hand?). His conniving and manipulation did him no favors as he now longed for the castle over the hills.

Because of their deceit, Edith and Thomas lost the only thing which could bring them satisfaction: Edith was without love and Thomas without home. This is always the path of sin. In rebelling against the order of the house—in trying to manipulate the system to gain power—Thomas was like Adam and Eve who were not content with the just rule of paradise. They didn’t want God dictating right and wrong to them, they wanted autonomy—a kingdom of their own law. In trying to hide her daughter, Edith was also like Adam and Eve: hidden, shamed, isolated. Of course, our first parents eventually shared in Thomas’ expulsion: exiled from the garden, driven away from home. The house in which they now served was hard—thorns and blisters abounded. A smiling Father was traded for a scowling master.

Return:

The question of Downton—the question which Mr. Carson was never able to stomach—was always: How can we adapt to the changing world? How do the ethics of the new age relate to the systems of the old? Put simply, how will we have a happy ending? The answer, it turns out, is simple: we walk into the new world humbly.

Thomas was a footman in the Abbey, and he resented that fact. He did everything in his power to move, even ever so slightly, up the ladder. He lied. He cheated. He blackmailed. He bribed. The end of all Thomas’ scheming came this season in a bloody bathtub with his wrists slit. While he was rescued, he was still not invited to make his home at Downton.

That background sets the stage for perhaps the most moving scene in the finale. Mr. Carson’s “palsy” prevents him from properly pouring the champagne, and it becomes obvious that his days as butler are over. These circumstances—which Thomas could not have orchestrated—lead to Mary’s nominating the estranged footman for the job. While he’s at his least powerful—indeed, while he’s completely estranged from the family—he’s mercifully invited back into the fellowship. Not based on something of his own doing, but wholly based on Lady Mary’s favor and mercy. Forevermore Thomas’ service in the home will be a testament not to his trademark ambition or merit, but to the Crawley's grace.  

Just as Thomas was able to go home in humility, so too did Edith receive love vulnerably. Weddings are always eschatological events in the Christian understanding of things. The bride is a pointer to the church and Christ is the ultimate Bridegroom. One day, the institution of marriage will fade like a shadow as the substance—Christ and his bride—are united. We go into that day the same way Edith went into her wedding: vulnerably. For the first time Edith was completely honest. To her fiancé, to her soon-to-be mother-in-law, to herself. As the minister asked if there were any objections to their nuptials, there was silence. There were no secrets left—Edith had shared them all. She was known fully for the first time, and loved anyway. The love given to Edith was just that, given. It was a gift.  It was grace. Such is the love which will bring in the Kingdom.

We can never demand love, we can only receive it—after all, we, like Edith, have betrayed the trust of our Bridegroom. That great wedding feast is coming in grace, in love. The Kingdom will not come in protests or in riots or in persuasive speeches. The Kingdom does not come by demanding bread and wine, but by receiving the elements. The Kingdom does not come by the church covering her shame and nakedness with the vapid leaves of power and influence, but in prayer and service to the poor. Like Thomas, we go home not based on our own merits, but on the grace of our master. Like Edith, we don’t look for our wedding day as if it’s owed to us, but we look as those waiting on a gift. Which is to say: we wait humbly.

Shalom:

From the show’s inception, two worlds are taken for granted: the upstairs world and the downstairs world. The basic tension of the series lies in the two worlds dissolving into one another. Upstairs is moving downstairs (think early on of Lady Mary’s going down to the servants quarters to talk with Carson) and downstairs is moving upstairs (think of Tom, the driver and mechanic, moving up to marry Lady Sybil). This is typified in the closing minutes of Downton’s finale, which could not have be more different than the opening minutes of the show’s pilot. After going into labor, the penultimate servants, Anna and John Bates, lie upstairs in Lady Mary’s bed as tea is served to them by Lord Grantham himself. The old order has passed away. Baby Bates is delivered along with a new age, a new rule.

This scene sums up the plot of Downton well. Anna and John had a hard time conceiving a child. To Anna, it seemed impossible at times. This new birth came only through much pain, sorrow, and heartache. That’s the eschatology of Downton Abbey: resurrection comes through the cross. New life comes through the painful death of the old.

Watching a century after the fact, the death of this bygone aristocratic era seemed imminent. If the advent of the automobile and telephone didn’t quite usher in the new age, the Great War surely did. Nothing could be the same. How much more so should the coming Kingdom of Christ seem inevitable? After all, we’re watching our present drama play out some two millennia after the Kingdom was decisively secured by Christ’s life, death, resurrection, and ascension.

The writers of Downton are clearly emboldened by their belief in the inevitable “march of progress.” Yet, the Christian gospel offers something different, something more. History is under the sovereign rule of Christ: it has a telos. So we walk humbly into the future, receiving the Kingdom as a gift. We live in this present “kingdom of darkness” with the sure knowledge that its day is setting, even as the “Kingdom of light” is dawning. In the end, Downton offers a glimmer of our Christian eschatology of hope. To quote Isobel Crawley in the closing words of the series: “We are going forward to the future, not back in the past.” From Eden, to the New Jerusalem. Amen.

“The Stories We Tell: How TV and Movies Long for and Echo the Truth”
By / May 12

“The Stories We Tell: How TV and Movies Long for and Echo the Truth”
By / May 6

Dan Darling interviews Mike Cosper about his book "The Stories We Tell: How TV and Movies Long for and Echo the Truth" and how to think more deeply about the stories we consume.