Big ideas...

Ok, so I normally don't really do 'critiques'. I don't critique movies and I don't critique preaching. I mean, I do A LOT of both in the privacy of my own mind and with my wife and maybe one or two close friends, but because I truly respect the amount of work/talent/perseverance/pain that goes into participating in both forms of communication, and work (in whatever reduced capacity) in both industries, I shudder to place myself in the position of judge.

That said, I had an interesting enough experience with two movies I saw recently that I thought I should share a couple things that occurred to me, as a warning to myself (as I work on constructing effective/redemptive story, and sermons that matter) and perhaps as an encouragement to you as you do your work.

'Chappie' and 'Jupiter Ascending'. Both in the Sci-Fi genre (probably my favourite of all genres) both by writer/director teams I admire and whose previous work I've enjoyed (District 9/Elysium and The Matrix Trilogy) both films whose development I tracked and whose trailer(s) I watched excitedly and repeatedly as their release dates drew near. I saw both opening week.

Of interest is that both films had received less than glowing reviews from online review sites whose opinion I have come to trust over time. That's a problem, right? When you're stoked to see a film and a reviewer you trust slags it? I usually go anyway and sometimes they're wrong; but sometimes they're right.

They were right on both of these.

Here's why.

The thing that jumped out to me about 'Chappie' was how overly 'strange attractor' it was in terms of its story design. The basic idea on 'strange attractor' is that a 'story' is more than an idea, it's an idea PLUS another idea that have never really been joined together until now, but now that you've mixed them, you've discovered storytelling dynamite. Stephen King in 'On Writing' and Steven Pressfield in 'The War of Art' really helped me with this one.

So take 'Carrie' for example. Telekinesis is not a story in and of itself, but a girl who discovers her telekinetic powers as a result of high school bullying and ends up using them to rock prom night; well, there you've got the beginnings of a story. Two previously unconnected ideas; telekinesis and teen angst. Put 'em together and you've got a story.

So, back to 'Chappie'. The idea of someone figuring out how to make AI happen is not a new idea. It's been done a thousand times in popular storytelling. That's often a good thing in film making as the 'industry' loves to do something 'familiar' yet different, fresh, or novel. A new 'take' on tried and tested material. So, I can imagine Neil Blomkamp (writer/director) doing some preliminary brainstorming on 'Chappie', wanting to do something with AI (he certainly seems drawn to telling stories of 'The Other', the fish out of water, the stranger in a strange land) and he's looking for that second idea to bring his AI story germ to life.

Often you can find your second idea by asking 'What if?' questions. Like, "What if a girl had telekinetic powers (part 1)...and used them to get back at her tormentors (part 2)?"  Or, "What if the daughter of a rich merchant was disenfranchised by her stepmother and step sisters (part 1--not a story yet) and ended up falling in love with the crown Prince almost by accident and getting everything she'd ever hoped for ultimately triumphing over her evil family? (part 2)" now it's 'Cinderella'.

Naturally, there's a lot of other 'storytelling stuff' you layer on top of the basic idea to get an actual film worthy story, but it all starts with the basic two ideas.

'Chappie'.

"What if a boy wonder computer genius invented AI (part 1--not a story yet) only to have that AI fall into the hands of (and be 'raised' by) a gang of low-life, jive-talking, Johannesburg criminals (part 2)?" Now it's a story.

Problem is, not a very BIG story.

It's essentially a family drama, contained in a big-buget sci-fi action film.

Even the posters for 'Chappie' sold it as a BIG film, see above...

"Humanity's last hope isn't Human..."

Great slogan, great premise. But the movie didn't deliver on that premise. At no point in the film was 'Humanity' ever in jeopardy. At worst, Johannesburg was gonna suffer some rioting and looting. Not exactly EPIC story stuff.

Now, make Chappie the lynchpin of 'World War Z'; you've got your very sympathetic character (as Chappie clearly was) facing an epic problem in a story with epic scale.

'Chappie' (as executed) was much smaller.

Now, let's be clear, there's nothing wrong with 'smaller' movies. All I've ever done (to be sure) is 'small' stuff. But, if you're going to bill something as BIG, it darn well better BE big, or your audience is going to leave the movie feeling ripped off, and your 'word of mouth' (which is a huge factor in a films' success and longevity) will sour.

'Chappie' had a simple story concept (AI gets raised by thugs) but got pushed as a BIG one and that's why it didn't ever seen to rise to its (promoted) potential.

Okay, on to 'Jupiter Ascending'.

I loved the scale. What an awe-inspiring film visually and in terms of it's GRAND premise. Coming up with BIG ideas, set in BIG worlds with BIG stakes is something the Wachowski's do very well.

So why didn't 'Jupiter Ascending' blow up the box office?

Because it lacked moral significance.

At the root of the film you have a set of all-powerful 'Human' families 'seeding' and then 'slaughtering' entire WORLDS in order to, effectively, put their humans into a big blender to turn their 'essence' into the river of life.

Pretty cool idea, right?

Interestingly, this is almost the same idea as 'The Matrix' except instead of a superior race of machines committing this heinous act, you have Humans doing this to other Humans.

Let's say it up front; this could have been a wicked, awesome, dynamic story.

But it fell short.

Why?

'Cause Jupiter is more interested in making out with her body guard (Channing Tatum) and playing 'Sky Surfer' with him (in the very disappointing final scene of the movie) then she is in saving The World (and every humanoid World in the Universe) from being turned into juice.

That makes her an unworthy 'hero'. That makes her story self-absorbed. That makes us not want to cheer for her and allows us to leave the theatre thinking, "Meh. Nice visuals and big premise, but it didn't really go anywhere..."

What a powerful warning to me, and maybe to you.

'Chappie' reminds us to not over-sell what we do. Make sure you're aware of what you can (or are planning to) do and only promise to deliver that; no more, no less.

'Jupiter Ascending' reminds us to do something noble, something that matters, something selfless with our lives and to tell stories (and preach sermons) that highlight these virtues and inspire then to life in our audience.

Anyway, my 'movie critic' thoughts for the day.

May I listen to my own advice.

T

Groundhog Day...

As a guy who's spent all of his adult life working hard to see the story of Jesus as recorded in the Bible communicated to my post-christian peers in as effective and non-culturally-stupid a way as possible, I have to share a troubling experience I had this past weekend.

I'm honestly not trying to pick a fight with anyone over this, just disturbed enough that I need to 'say something' in a somewhat public forum.

See, twenty (yes, twenty) years ago a friend and I used the entire living room wall of our bachelor pad as a 'white board' of sorts, outlining a strategy we felt (at the time) *might* be somewhat effective in helping to introduce our post-christian peers to life in Christ. At the time, we were very troubled by a trend we saw unfolding; our normal, everyday peers, people who hadn't been raised in Church, were showing zero inclination to engage with Church. Zero interest, zero drive, Church wasn't even on their radar.

It was twenty years ago that I started using the term 'post-christian.'

"My peers are post-christian..." I'd say to anyone who would listen, to anyone who was upset about the way in which we began going about 'doing' Christian ministry. If they felt our drums were too loud (or not needed), if they felt our outreach events (yes, I was a youth pastor at the time) were too 'secular' or not 'spiritual' enough I'd say it.

"Listen, our peers are POST-CHRISTIAN! All the stuff you're talking about, means NOTHING to them! You're arguing with me about stuff that's NOT EVEN ON THEIR RADAR!"

The complaining Christians arguing with me were so out of touch they had no idea they were out of touch.

Fast forward twenty years.

Nothing's changed.

If your hackles are up reading this, just pause for a second and do the math. Look at the picture above (I took it, myself, this past weekend, with my iPhone--it's not some stock photo I found to try and support an argument I just came up with). Count the grey/white haired/old people, then count the rest, then do the division to come up with your percentage.

Got it? Done yet?

THERE'S AN ENTIRE GENERATION MISSING FROM THIS CHURCH!!

An. Entire. Generation.

And I'm not even going to go into how absolutely LAME the worship service was or how absolutely archaic the order of service was or how old fashioned the whole approach was or how 'straight out of the 1950's' the building and its (non)decor was. Heck, you might like those things.

But, dude, lemme tell you, I have A LOT of post-christian friends who NEED to get to know Jesus, who NEED to be introduced to Him in a context where THE HOLY SPIRIT is manifestly working, and where all the 'externals' (like style, vibe, look, feel) don't get in the way and pop them 'out' of the 'the moment' but work seamlessly in a way that isn't even really noticed, to help put them at ease so they can just relax and be available when The Ghost drops into the room with their name in the crosshairs.

And I would NEVER take them to that church.

And I'm not even going to go INTO how lame most preaching is these days, or how saccharine and empty most worship services are (I've been in some worship services in the last five years that were so bad I wanted to either shout them down, run from the room screaming or just repeatedly punch myself in the face until I passed out) or how lame most theology has become ('cause we're afraid to preach the truth or just don't know what we believe the truth to be anymore) or how absolutely stupid (and outright non-Biblical) most of the cultural imperatives many 'Church-ey Churches' (or bleeding heart liberals) are clinging to have become.

I realize there's different strokes for different folks; I'm not talking about guitars vs organs here. I'm talking about CONTENT!

Holy Ghost filled, passionate, imperative, demanding, comforting, inspiring, Biblical, about-Jesus, life-changing preaching.

Where is it?

Holy Ghost filled, blow the roof off the joint, musically amazing, non-performance driven, prophetic, heart-broken, eyes to Heaven, heart-cutting, supernaturally actuated worship.

Where is it?

Honest about their sin (and the fact that they're NEVER going to get 'IT' right), not preoccupied with 'face-saving' morality, unattached to anything but Christ and Him Crucified, culturally aware, secure, wine drinking, pop music loving, vernacular using, quick thinking, hard working, secular-seeming, Jesus following Christians.

Where are they?

Dude, if we don't do something, we might not just lose a generation, we might lose CHRISTIANITY as a vibrant, culture shaping force in North America.

(I have a feeling we're right on the verge)

And my Jesus-needing friends with their broken lives? They can't afford that.

We need to wake up and smell the humous.

We need to get busy livin' 'cause, if the picture above is any kind of accurate portrayal of how things ARE in current Western Popular Culture, the Church of Jesus Christ (the hope of the World) is already busy dyin'.

OMG, we need to get to work.

T

Sunny with a chance of rain...

Loss is funny.

I mean, it's not, but you know what I mean.

Four years ago today we lost Robbie. Worst day ever. Seriously. I remember saying shortly after that terrible day that I don't think we'll every be 'happy' again. What I meant was, I don't think we'll ever have the same kind of unbridled, simple happiness we'd had before the shadow of his death came to live with us. I thought of a book title I may flirt with someday that captures the idea;

"Sunny with a chance of rain..."

The book cover would have a sailboat carving its way across a pristine bay on a sunny day that looks absolutely perfect except for a lone storm cloud hovering in the distance.

Yes, we're happy, yes we still laugh, but the cloud of grief attached to Robbie's death is still with us four years later and I'm pretty sure it'll never leave.

What I've noticed about loss is that its the many little things you miss most. The above picture captures it well. I've got dozens of photos of Rob and with Rob but this one says something unique. There he is at the periphery of the shot, top right, and he's in no way meant to be the focus of the image. The kids are; their joy at having completed an epic Easter Egg hunt the reason for the shot. Here's the thing though...

It was Robbie who always set up the Easter Egg hunt.

It's never happened again since he died.

Sure, we've tried to replicate it but there was something very special to him about setting those Easter Egg hunts up, so he put his unique playfulness and energy into it, and as a result, the hunts were epic.

They will never happen the same way again.

That's loss.

I still dream about him twice a year (dreams in which he visits me and talks with me; usually about The Kingdom). I still think of him every single day. I still curse out loud, in a dark moment of despair because of his loss, at least once a month.

Robbie.

The third Cantelon son, gone.

So where is God in all of this?

On His throne, in charge and glorious. We love Him and serve Him and enjoy and seek to obey Him in everything we do. We bless Him and try to glorify Him with our lives. We're thankful to Him and worship Him and focus on Him as the center of our lives.

And we wonder just what in the heck He was thinking at this hour on this day four years ago.

And we know that He is good.

And we know that Robbie is well.

And we keep smiling and weeping and doing our best to enjoy life day-by-day, sunshine and storm clouds and all.

T

More of the same...

Sad but true, I need TUMS from time to time.

Heartburn.

For me, it's mostly stress-related or after exercise. I always carry around a roll of TUMS, some chap stick and a toothpick in my left side pants pocket. I'm so detailed about this, I have multiple sets of each for the pants I wear most frequently.

A little weird? Maybe.

Anyway, I was breezing through the supermarket yesterday with my boys after a great workout, picking up milk and dishwasher detergent and I made sure to walk down the pharmacy aisle to grab some TUMS as my supply was running short.

Usually I buy the classic 'mint flavoured' TUMS but they were out, so I just grabbed what was available, which happened to be a triple roll of 'fruit flavoured' extra-strength TUMS. I'd never bought 'extra strength' TUMS before (my life's not THAT stressed out) but I figured, no big deal, I'll just take one instead of two.

I couldn't have been more right.

When I opened the package just now I immediately noticed something funny. Can you spot it from the picture above? See, I'd been wondering, 'Just what IS is it about 'extra-strength' TUMS that makes them extra-strength?' Is the formulation more concentrated? Do they put some kind of super-stress-killing 'miracle compound' into it to make it 'better' than your run-of-the-mill mint-flavoured TUMS?

No.

Turns out, all they do is take two TUMS tablets, make 'em into one, and call it 'extra-strength'. Look at the thickness...

More of the same.

As soon as I realized this, I was struck with wondering how often I've been guilty of the same in my professional life as a Pastor/Producer? How often, instead of actually fixing the problem by, you know, coming up with something ground-breaking, Spirit-inspired, and creative, have I just tried to do 'more of the same' and hoped for the best?

Am I really just doubling up my tired, stale efforts, instead of figuring out a way to break new ground?

Something to consider.

Might even cause me enough stress to bring on the heartburn.

T

Taste Death, Live Life...

WHY do I go sailing in storm conditions when no one else is on the water?

So I can 'Taste Death, Live Life...'

That's how me and my brother have put it as long as I can remember.

Taste Death, Live Life.

Pretty sure he came up with it, or one of our crazy friends, Sam-geet or Steve-clot or maybe it was Sphincter; one of us anyway.

Always try to choose the most dynamic shots. Naturally, t'would have been boss to have brought our go-pro with us; that would've been some dynamism bro'. We forgot it though. We were too focused on getting out on the water as soon as possible, so the two above will have to do. The first one is us reaching for home at the end of our ride and the second one is the moment we 'docked', which amounted to blasting into the bay, jumping off and grabbing onto the boat before she hit the shore.

Here's how it happened...

I actually got out of bed before the rest of my family (while on vacation) last Wednesday morning to go and check the wind, 'cause I could hear it whistling in the pines above our bunkie. Got down to the dock, sure thing; big wind. That's what I call it, "BIG wind". It's about the best thing I can say about a day, other than that my wife's gonna' be there, ideally in a bikini. If I get a day with big wind, on a body of water, with my catamaran AND my wife there, ideally scantily-clad, I'm winning.

So I race back into the cottage and text my brother who was staying at a place 15 minutes away. "Bro. Big wind. Real big." I hit send and don't have to wait more than a minute or two. "Be right there..." comes the reply, and I know it's ON.

And, wouldn't you know it, in the cottage next to us, on his family compound is my buddy Mike who happens to be up for the same week we are and who also happens (along with my brother Jess and my friend Jones) to be one of the guys I've sailed most with over the past 15 years. Like the other dudes I mentioned, Mike knows what to do without me saying a thing. I can just focus on keeping us alive (working the tiller and mainsheet like they're live beasts) while he, and Jess, hang their 250lb-plus bodies off the side of the boat by airplane wire (trapeze) hooked to harnesses that cinch their privates up tighter than a, well, I shouldn't say.

Did I mention they do this while we're hurtling over the water at 30+ mph on a SAILBOAT?

That's right.

The only other boat on the water was a windsurfer and he wasn't going much faster than us, and he was wearing a crash helmet. That's how serious the conditions were.

About 20 minutes into it we started noticing cottagers out on their docks with binoculars, watching us. "GUYS!!" I shouted, "We're the best show on two hulls!"

We basically got far enough out into the bay, beating upwind which is NOT a Hobie 16's strong suit, until we had enough sea room to just blast reach from cove to cove for about an hour and a half. It was all out, unadulterated fury, terror and exhilaration rolled into one.

At the end of each blast across the bay we'd tuck into a cove and just lay there on the tramps, howling, screaming and laughing at what had just happened, then we'd turn around and do it again.

Suddenly, in the middle of blasting along at speeds a seadoo can barely match, I hear my brother shout, "That's it, reach for home Todd..." And, without a word of protest, I bore off and we started downhill sledding for home.

Why?

'Cause we'd hit our limit. He knew it. I knew it. See, there's a point in extreme sailing (as in life) where you realize you've pushed it as far as you can and, after that point, you're going to start breaking down. When you're sailing in 'expert' conditions you can't afford a breakdown, 'cause that usually means injury, or in this case, death--if you're unlucky or careless or just too tired to do what's needed if/when events take a turn. It's all fun and games 'till it 'aint fun no more.

Know your limits.

We know ours, we've sailed enough to know.

Have you lived enough to know yours?

See, it's possible you need a little more excitement in your life, a little more risk. There's a chance you're just 'continuing' (in the words of C.S Lewis) and that you could be doing much more with the life you've been given.

Sure, it might be stormy out there, but--if you have the tools, the training, the experience and the moxy, you can change a storm into an opportunity.

Just make sure you've got some friends to take along with you and that, together, you know when to call it a day.

Then, get out there and 'Taste Death, Live Life...'

T

Running the race...

So, that was Friday afternoon, getting ready to drive north. My race (an Olympic Distance Triathlon) was the next day (Sat July 12th) so we had asked our good friends (the sweet Donaldsons) if we could crash at their place in Port Carling the night before, so that race morning would be little more manageable.

My sweet Mother in law (thanks Julie) took the kids so my wonderful wife and I could drive up together. Last time we did that (drove up to Muskoka just the two of us) was, literally, more than 14 years ago. What a treat. We LOVE our kids, but were reminded that, come 'empty-nester' days we'll be fine just the two of us, 'cause we still really enjoy each other's company. The drive was fun.

Pulled into Donaldson's at 9:30pm, hung out with them 'till 11pm then tried to sleep. Was very restless, up every hour for sure, just like before a shoot day or a Sunday when I'm in the pulpit. I wasn't stressed though, just accepted the fact that, nights like those, I'll never really sleep well.

Up at 5:30am, out the door at 6:00am, and at the race start by 6:45am, all's well. Sign in, get my bike and my gear settled, hang out with my wife (who knew many of the hardest-core racers, as she's moving in higher and higher circles as a pro-trainer these days) then took in the race day briefing and walked to the Segwin Ferry for our ride out to the swim course start.

Now, before you go any further, you should read THIS which is the tale of my first 'tri' which was, truly, a life-changing--but horrible--experience. Then you should read THIS, which tells the tale of last year's race, my first time running the Olympic distance, and my first real 'redemptive' experience after the debacle of 2010.

Now, on to 2014.

That's my exit from the swim course. Swim was tougher this year than last. Part of that was surely due to the fact that I'm now swimming the course all front-crawl, whereas in the past I'd split the time between front-crawl and breast-stroke. Front crawl is harder work but makes for a faster time. There was also more boat traffic in Gravenhurst Bay this year than last and that contributed to some significant chop on the last 1km stretch from out in the bay into the wharf. That said, I swam faster and felt pretty good getting out of the water. I think I took maybe 5-10 minutes off my time from last year.

Then the bike.

You'll know, if you read the links above, that--first time I did this--the bike was my undoing. Last year was my first year with my new (used from a friend) bike (pictured above) and I was a lot faster and more solid than before. This year I added about three to four km/h average to my bike, which doesn't sound like a lot, but is. My arms were sore from the swim so I was actually looking forward to getting off the bike and onto my feet for the run portion.

The run.

As a former University linebacker I'm built (and have trained) to sprint ten yards and hit somebody really hard. I never wanted to be 'skinny' until I started these races; now I envy my twig-like friends and want to 'grow up' (by the time I'm 45) to be just like them. Re-training my body to run longer distances has been quite the journey. I'm thankful to say that this year was the first year I felt like I truly 'owned' the run.

I'd planned to run the first half at 2/3's capacity (until my legs 'opened up' after the bike--which usually happens somewhere between 2-4km into the run) and then run the last 5k as fast as possible, ideally getting faster each km.

And that's what I did.

The best part of the run was that no one passed me after the 5k turnaround (and I'd been passed A LOT so far that day) and I managed to pass 17 people and, when I heard some of them cuss as I passed them (like I used to cuss when I got passed), I will admit to allowing myself the slightest rush of satisfaction.

At the 9km marker (1k to go) I started feeling my emotions rise to the surface again and, rounding the last turn (pictured below)...

I started sobbing a bit (keeping it in my chest as much as possible) and that had the strange effect of constricting my throat so that I couldn't breathe. I thought to myself, "This must be what asthma feels like..." so I forced myself to quickly calm down so I didn't shame myself (and my family) by passing out fifty yards from the finish.

And, just like that, I was done. Official times aren't posted yet but we're pretty sure (Niki timed me as I went) that I took 20-25 minutes off last years time which, in triathlon, is a HUGE accomplishment.

Pretty cool.

Never thought I'd be 'that' guy. Never thought I'd do this kind of thing, but I've been telling people that the discipline from competing in this sport is leaking over into every area of my life and, for that, I'm truly thankful.

Thankful to my sweet wife for continuing to urge me to get and stay fit. Thankful to Robbie and Kate for suggesting the first one back in 2010. Thankful for what that first miserable failure taught me. Thankful that I've promised myself I'll never feel that bad again. Thankful that I've been able to keep at it. Thankful for friends like Miki and Tom who keep me inspired and feeling somewhat inadequate. Thankful for a body that works. Thankful for forgetfulness, wherein I forget how bad that was, and begin training for the NEXT one.

Ironman 70.3 is the next rung on the ladder. Swim 1.9km, Bike 90km, Run 21.1km. DOUBLE what I just did.

Oyyy. Better start training.

(later today, in fact)

T

Cherish it...

Today was a good day.

Funny, I'm kind of at a spot in my life and career where I can't talk about details in the same way I used to. Added responsibility, more stakeholders, a bunch of factors contribute to that, but one thing hasn't changed; I have days where I want to say something.

Today I want to say two things.

One. I'm thankful. 

After the kind of year we've had it's very nice to see a positive turn of events that serves as an affirmation of decisions we made--that we felt were right at the time--kind of a shot in the arm to encourage us to keep going, that we're on the right track.

That said, I know--firsthand--that things don't always turn out right and, just because they turned out wrong doesn't mean you're ultimately 'wrong' in how you're living or what you're putting your hand to and--more significantly--that God is still God even when you don't get healed or get that promotion or that positive answer to a dilemma you've been facing.

I find that part of faith very difficult to deal with.

So, having come to a place where I'm somewhat 'at peace' with trusting God to be and do who He is and what He does, in and of Himself (only took me 40 years), I'm all the more grateful for a turn of events that fits in with some of the hopes and dreams I have for my family and I.

Simply put. I've had a lot of 'down' days so an 'up' day is all the more sweet.

Two. Nothing *really* important has changed.

My sweet son off the top? That's YEARS ago. Sure he's bigger now, but in his heart--who he is (as evidenced by how hard he's working on his sand creation) hasn't changed at all, and how I feel about him--as his Dad, and someone who's SO very grateful to be a father--well, that hasn't changed either.

That helps me with perspective. 

See, when things are bad or things are good or things are somewhere in between, there are certain things in your life; like your relationship with God, your spouse and your kids (if applicable) that never change, or at least which you shouldn't *allow* to change.

It's the things that are really important, the things that really matter.

In any given day I face a dozen moments of real challenge, of disappointment, of hurt, worry, stress or concern. In those moments I'm learning to remember that the tide does turn (for better and for worse then for better then for worse and so on...) all throughout your life and that, so long as you keep your head screwed on right and keep doing the *right* thing moment to moment, nothing really important ever really changes.

And that's something to cherish.

To better days!

T