

Discover more from Holding All of It
We are back this week to our regularly scheduled programming after a short detour with a fiction piece in the last post. Thanks for all the prompt ideas! I had several emails along with the comments publicly posted, and I am pleased to announce that I’ve chosen one and submitted a manuscript to the competition last night. Once the contest results are in, I’ll share the prompt and story here. Hopefully, my growth as a fiction writer will be evident compared to a year ago.
But for this week, I’m going to piggyback on two other recent posts. In those posts, I mused about The Dearly Beloved, a secular book centered on faith that impacted me, and on “reading promiscuously”, an idea I discovered and adopted from Karen Swallow Prior. The two post themes are part of a greater wrestling I have both with myself and the Church. Namely, how followers of Jesus can better understand, engage, and impact the world around them through the giving and receiving of creative endeavors.
To wrap up what unknowingly has become a three-part series, I wanted to tie together the ideas I wrote about in those two posts. In my post on The Dearly Beloved, I expressed how I adored the book for its honesty (despite the book not following a biblical model for church), and conversely, I touched on my reluctance to write Christian fiction based on my perception that it often falls short in depth. With my “reading promiscuously” post, I suggested that we, as believers, should widen our reading habits as a means of understanding and empathizing with the world around us. I’m wondering if these ideas might be two sides of the same coin. Perhaps for Christian fiction to be more impactful, its audience needs to embrace a broader mindset.
Let me unpack this a bit.
When I came to Christ in April of 2000, I had recently graduated from a theatrical conservatory in New York City. Attending Broadway and Off-Broadway plays, and watching countless movies was part of studying the craft. I experienced so many wonderful productions. Consequently, my first introduction to Christian media left me discouraged. Maybe even a little mortified. As someone fresh from the world, my thought was…I’m just going to say it…why is this so lame? I was having this amazing encounter with the God of the universe. I was personally coming to know the Creator who made expansive galaxies and jagged mountains, rolling green valleys dotted with wildflowers and swelling, wild oceans. He’d made soft and gentle animals for cuddling, swift-footed beasts, and mammoths like elephants to gasp over. And He made humans, with intellect, desire, and determination. And, of course, creativity. Shouldn’t the people who knew Him personally be producing the very best art?
While I’ve seen a shift in some cases in regard to media, this question still plagues me and makes me ask a consequent question: Why do Christian films and contemporary literature so often fall short? I’m sure this is a layered issue, but I would like to suggest one theory. In the legitimate process of trying to protect our souls from tarnish, I think we may err on the side of prudishness. We aren’t willing to represent the world truthfully. Making an impact as Christian filmmakers and writers will be impossible if reality isn’t reflected in our work. I fear we lean so far toward making something “clean” that we lose believability.
I’ll give an example. I’m preparing to write a fiction manuscript in my degree program, and I’ve decided to write in a Christian genre. Hence, I’m reading more Christian fiction than I have in the past. I just finished a title and overall, it was an enjoyable read. However, twice, I was jolted out of the story when the author tiptoed around an expletive and sexual innuendo, and in both cases, the narrative suddenly fell flat, and the story momentarily lost its believability. The content was there anyway, and this wasn’t R-rated material. Why couldn’t she just write it honestly? I know the answer. Because Christian publishers won’t print it. And why won’t they? Because their consumers will complain.
Suspension of disbelief is a term used in literature and acting and it basically means that creators assume their audiences will put aside their disbelief when entering their narratives and “buy in” to the story. In order for someone to fully enjoy the experience, they temporarily put aside the voice that tells them the story isn’t true. This enables them to fully enter the moment. It’s an unspoken agreement between the creator and their audience, and it’s what makes storytelling so wonderful for all involved. However, even the most willing suspender of disbelief will be pulled out of the narrative when the story suddenly rings untrue. And I think this is what happens when we over-sanitize for Christian audiences.
Nathan Clarkson, who is a Christian actor, filmmaker, and author wrote a fantastic article in 2021 about this very subject titled “Why I Won’t Make Another Christian Film.” It’s a good read and offers important reflections from the perspective of a Christian filmmaker; you can find his article at Religion Unplugged.
I’m counting on you to assume the best of me and know that I apply nuance to this idea. I’m not suggesting unnecessary exploitation of worldly ways. The pendulum in the secular world often swings the other way, where there is so much language and sexual content that is wholly unnecessary. And I also recognize that all of our consciences land in different places. Romans 14 and 15 go into extensive detail about how Christian love for our brethren means being respectful of differences in our consciences. I want Christian media and literature to be more authentic, but I also ask: Where do we draw the line?
I suppose I’ve been on a bit of a soapbox, and I promise to switch topics in my next post, but I hope you hear my heart. To be honest, given the complexities of conscience and what or what does not cross lines, I’m not sure if I have clear answers. My aim in these last few posts has simply been to explore how we can deepen our understanding, empathy, and impact to reveal the love of God to a lost and broken world, specifically through the vehicle of literature and film. If nothing else, I hope it has been good food for thought and discussion.
Reflecting on Christian Film and Literature
Thanks Bob! You bring up great points. Predictability is definitely something I’ve noticed, too. But I agree, It’s hard to know the way forward. Thanks for chiming in!
So agree with you, Tiffany- though I’ve never been able to put my finger on these issues. It’s such a fine line to walk and I’m sympathetic with the pressures Christian creators must feel!