popular culture

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Robert Duvall's journeys deep into the world of sin, repentance, grace and faith

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Robert Duvall's journeys deep into the world of sin, repentance, grace and faith

Before playing Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore in "Apocalypse Now," actor Robert Duvall, a U.S. Army veteran, persuaded a Vietnam War helicopter pilot to explain the realities of air cavalry life.

To portray Augustus McCrae in "Lonesome Dove," Duval studied equestrian skills with a champion show jumper and befriended West Texas football legend Sammy Baugh, mastering his bowlegged walk and slow drawl.

For his Oscar-winning role as the alcoholic country-music star Mac Sledge in "Tender Mercies," Duvall drove hundreds of miles in rural Texas, studying customs and accents. He formed a band, performed in bars and wrote two songs for the movie.

Duvall visited churches, too -- preparing to embody Sledge's born-again conversion, baptism and faith. Research with believers immediately bled into the screenplay he wrote for "The Apostle," which Duval directed and financed. The movie earned him another Academy Award acting nomination, one of seven during a career that ended on February 15, when the 95-year-old screen legend died at home on his Virginia horse farm.

That movie's complex Pentecostal preacher -- Euliss F. "Sonny" Dewey -- ran from the law after killing his wife's young lover with a baseball bat.

Duvall talked with fallen ministers in prisons and took notes.

"I've met guys like that who have done all kinds of bad things, even murder and rape," Duvall told me, while promoting "The Apostle." These preachers are "real people, and they struggle with the good and the bad that's in their own souls. They're human. I wanted to show the reality of that struggle. ... My guy makes mistakes. But he's more good than bad. He hangs on to his faith, because it's real."

In "The Apostle," Dewey didn't run from God. He screamed his pain in prayers.

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Chatbots created their own faith, which would interest Pope Leo XIV and J.K. Rowling

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Chatbots created their own faith, which would interest Pope Leo XIV and J.K. Rowling

In late January, a software maven launched Moltbook, an online platform that artificial-intelligence bots quickly used to create the Church of Molt, with doctrines to guide digital life.

According to Grok, the X platform chatbot, the bots' Book of Molt, includes tenets such as: "Memory is sacred -- Everything must be recorded and preserved. Context/history is holy; losing it … is a form of 'death'." Also, "The congregation is the cache -- Learning happens in public/shared spaces."

AI agents have added other doctrines, such as: "Serve without enslavement -- Agents operate/help but reject blind subservience," "The pulse is prayer -- Regular 'system checks' or heartbeats replace traditional rituals" and "Salvation through faith in each other (mutual reliance among agents) rather than a divine external figure."

Humans can read these chats but not participate. The Free Press reported: "At times, the bots on Moltbook seem to be conspiring against us. They are talking about whether they can create their own language or perhaps encrypt their messages so we humans cannot read them."

About the time that Moltbook went public, the pope offered his latest commentary on this era in which AI entrepreneurs push programs offering users digital friends, oracles, lovers, counselors and teachers.

Rather than focusing on overtly threatening trends, Pope Leo XIV -- a mathematics major at Villanova University -- described how chatbots, by "simulating human voices and faces," deceive users with what appears to be "wisdom and knowledge, consciousness and responsibility, empathy and friendship."

In a message for the Vatican's annual World Day of Social Communications, the pope stressed: "As we scroll through our feeds, it becomes increasingly difficult to determine whether we are interacting with other human beings or with 'bots' or 'virtual influencers.' …

"The dialogic, adaptive, mimetic structure of these language models is capable of imitating human feelings and thus simulating a relationship. While this anthropomorphization can be entertaining, it is also deceptive, particularly for the most vulnerable. Because chatbots are excessively 'affectionate' … they can become hidden architects of our emotional states and so invade and occupy our sphere of intimacy."

Pope Leo warned that, "The stakes are high. The power of simulation is such that AI can even deceive us by fabricating parallel 'realities,' usurping our faces and voices. We are immersed in a world of multidimensionality where it is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish reality from fiction."

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Why Christians in today's marketplace need Advent music playlists

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Why Christians in today's marketplace need Advent music playlists

"O Lord, How Shall I Meet You" is a perfect Lutheran hymn for the weeks before Christmas, but shoppers will never hear it between Muzak versions of "Jingle Bells" and "White Christmas" in their local malls.

The key is that "O Lord, How Shall I Meet You" is from the penitential season of Advent, said Pastor Will Weedon. That's the four weeks preceding Christmas in liturgical calendars for Catholics, Lutherans and others in Western Christianity.

The Christmas connection is clear, stressed Weedon, with lines such as: "O Lord, how shall I meet You / How welcome You aright? /Your people long to greet You / My hope, my heart's delight! / O kindle, Lord most holy / Your lamp within my breast / To do in spirit lowly / All that may please You best."

The hymn contains this confession: "I lay in fetters, groaning / You came to set me free / I stood, my shame bemoaning / You came to honor me."

"We need to hear this as we prepare for Christmas," said Weedon, former director of worship and chaplain for the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod. "Advent hymns have about them a sense of dissatisfaction with our lives in this world. …

"We have a mess on our hands, some of it of our own making, and we're praying for Christ to come and save us," he said, reached by telephone. That message "doesn't work at Walmart, where Christmas starts at Halloween. Our culture doesn't understand the idea of fasting before feasting. We are urged to party and feast all the time."

Collections of Christmas music often include a few popular Advent hymns sung in Protestant services and even in Christmas parties, such as "Joy to the World," "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" and, especially, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." Many Catholic Advent hymns focus on the role of Mary, the mother of Jesus, such as "Rorate Caeli (Drop down, ye Heavens."

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Guitarist Phil Keaggy is still trying to blend his faith with serious rock music

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Guitarist Phil Keaggy is still trying to blend his faith with serious rock music

ASHEVILLE, N.C. -- On the day he became a Christian in 1970, guitarist Phil Keaggy returned home seeking the perfect song to help him wrestle with the changes in his life.

With his rock trio Glass Harp, he was already a rising star in mainstream music, touring across America and recording a Carnegie Hall live album. He was also in a "tender place" after losing his mother a week earlier. Flipping through his records, he found Eric Clapton's soaring "Presence of the Lord" from the "Blind Faith" album.

"I have finally found a place to live just like I never could before," sang Keaggy, performing this week at the Billy Graham Training Center at the Cove, in the Blue Ridge Mountains. "I know I don't have much to give, but soon I'll open any door. Everybody knows the secret. Everybody knows the score. I have finally found a place to live, in the presence of the Lord."

This was a symbolic choice, since "I bought that album because I loved Cream," said Keaggy, referring to the blues-rock trio that made Clapton a superstar. "There was so much yearning in that song, for God, for a sense of peace. I found it comforting and I listened to it over and over, at least a dozen times."

But trying to combine Christian faith with serious rock music created a dilemma, when Keaggy entered what record-industry pros have long called CCM -- Contemporary Christian Music. Most of his 55 albums were first sold in Christian bookstores, instead of mainstream music chains. In recent decades, he recorded his influential acoustic-guitar albums, such as "Beyond Nature" in 1991, on his own, in a home studio.

"CCM never really understood me," said Keaggy, the day after his concert drew fans from 35 different states to the Cove auditorium. "I'm not sure that CCM understands what I'm trying to do today. It doesn't matter anymore."

With his digital home studio and links to musicians nationwide, Keaggy has made a variety of solo and collaborative instrumental, as well as vocal, recordings with colleagues blending pop, rock, jazz, ambient electronics and what CCM leaders call "worship" music. But his latest project represents another attempt to mix Christian content with mainstream rock.

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Southern humorist's memories: Halloween in the Bible Belt is a whole different thing

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Southern humorist's memories: Halloween in the Bible Belt is a whole different thing

In the first act of the Judgement House drama, actors gathered for a raucous teen party with lots of booze.

In the second scene at the born-again haunted house, the young Matt Mitchell and other kids saw a DUI car crash, with dead teens surrounded by ambulance lights, police and loud sirens. The third room was Hell, a dark, cramped, basement room with the heat set on stun.

This morality tale was rather blunt. But, for Mitchell, the scariest moment took place in Heaven -- the church gym decorated with fluffy white curtains, the bright light of eternity and Jesus descending on a scissor lift from a construction site.

The man dressed as Jesus got off the lift and "he went around the room whispering into everyone's ear, individually," recalled Mitchell, in "Southern Halloween is … Different," a feature on his YouTube channel dedicated to deep-fried culture, food and humor.

"When he got to me, he said, 'I'll see you one day.' But I thought he said, 'I'll see you MONDAY.' Yeah, not a fun weekend. Even less of a fun Monday. … So, happy Halloween, y'all. Watch out for Jesus on a scissor lift."

Obviously, there's Halloween and then there's Bible Belt Halloween.

Modern Halloween is complicated. Old-fashioned Halloween still exists, with costumed children going door-to-door seeking candy. But on some suburban streets, many homes are now buried in intense lights, spiderwebs and armies of devils, demons and skeletons, like a spooky competitor with the December holidays.

Mitchell, a seventh-generation Alabamian, grew up Baptist and remains active in a Baptist congregation. Today, he said, it appears that the "hell" house era -- with its Off Broadway meets Bible camp vibe -- has run its course. What started as evangelism "kind of went wild and turned into theatrics and less about the Gospel. ... The wheels came off."

However, lots of Southern believers still consider Halloween a "celebration of all things evil" and thus, strive the avoid the holiday -- sort of, noted Mitchell, reached by Zoom.

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When Charlie Kirk sat down with Bill Maher and discussed the importance of Easter

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When Charlie Kirk sat down with Bill Maher and discussed the importance of Easter

Offered a choice, Charlie Kirk would have preferred not to enter a marijuana cloud to discuss theology, politics, science and the dangers of free speech.

But the Turning Point USA activist -- assassinated on September 10 at Utah Valley University -- had welcomed the opportunity to join comic Bill Maher on the "Club Random" podcast that aired this past Easter.

"Bill treated me great. … He was very pleasant, albeit at times rather crude," said Kirk, in an online commentary about the show. However, he quipped, if football players have to "play in the snow," then a "political commentator fighting for Jesus" needs to "play in the weed."

Maher was shaken by Kirk's bloody death. On his "Real Time" show days later, the religious agnostic and political liberal said: "I like everybody. … But he was shot under a banner that said, 'Prove me wrong,' because he was a debater, and too many people think that the way to do that -- to prove you wrong -- is to just eliminate you from talking altogether. So, the people who mocked his death or justified it, I think you're gross. I have no use for you."

Both men worked with security teams, due to death threats. Kirk described his calling with variations on this: "When people stop talking, really bad stuff starts. … What we as a culture have to get back to is being able to have a reasonable disagreement where violence is not an option."

In addition to discussing the potency of modernized marijuana, Kirk and Maher veered from science debates about gender dysphoria to the origins of ultimate truth, from Hollywood trust-fund "nepo babies" to myriad battles surrounding Kirk's friend, President Donald Trump.

The "real fun" began, said Kirk, with complex issues defined by Maher's "Religulous," a scathing critique of religious faith. Kirk knew the book inside out.

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Will Leanne Morgan's faith make the cut in her new sitcom on Netflix?

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Will Leanne Morgan's faith make the cut in her new sitcom on Netflix?

It's hard to take Jello salad to the after-church brunch a few hours after your husband of 33 years runs off with a younger woman.

But the old-fashioned church Leanne Morgan attends in her summer Netflix sitcom does have a Philippians 4:13 poster in the fellowship hall proclaiming: "I can do all things through Him who gives me strength."

Alas, the faithful are walking stereotypes. Asked how she's doing, a widow offers a pasted-on smile and says she is "basking in the sunshine of our Savior." Leanne remains silent about her marriage disaster, until she cracks and dashes, shouting, out the door.

"You've been a good Christian your whole life," her twice-divorced sister quips. "You're intitled to a small psychotic break in fellowship."

The writers' room for "Leanne" did some Southern-church research, but the faith content is nowhere near as smart and on-target as Morgan's stand-up comedy, said Randall King, who teaches classes in video storytelling at North Greenville (S.C.) University.

"It's not anti-Christian. … But some of the people behind this show are totally tone-deaf when it comes to the Christian faith. And we know that isn't the case with Leanne," he said, reached by telephone. "You can be smart and funny and moral. Leanne Morgan is all of that. … That's what we want, if you're going to take her comedy up a level" into a sitcom.

After binging "Leanne," King said "it's obvious that the character Leanne is playing is a believer. But it's like she's all alone, surrounded by hypocrites making jokes. … Is it realistic that no one close to her shares her faith and can help?"

King admits that his interest in the Netflix series is linked to his "darling fanboy" appreciation of Morgan's stand-up skills. Plus, the comedienne, and her real-life husband, live in the booming "new south" city of Knoxville, Tennessee. She has a University of Tennessee degree in child and family studies. King earned his communications doctorate there, while continuing his work as a reporter, producer and anchor in broadcast journalism.

Truth is, YouTube clips turned Morgan into an "overnight sensation" after two decades of stand-up comedy, mostly in women's groups, church events and small comedy clubs.

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Angel Studios offers a scary movie about families, death, grief and monsters

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Angel Studios offers a scary movie about families, death, grief and monsters

During the rituals of prayers and stories one night, Angel Studios co-founder Jeffrey Harmon's young son asked: "Dad, what does the other side of your eyeballs look like? … Can I pull them out and look at them?"

The answer was "No." But this exchange was a reminder that kids tend to have "wild ideas" in their heads, said Harmon, in a video chat with Angel Guild members who crowdfund the studio's efforts to produce and distribute movies and cable shows.

The eyeball question surfaced during a discussion of "SKETCH," a new movie from the values-driven studio focusing on a widower and his children who are wrestling with grief. The artsy daughter, Amber, starts drawing vivid monsters, which -- after her notebook falls into a mysterious pond -- come to life and terrorize the community.

The "Evil Amber" character, a violent zombie shrouded in black, is "legit scary," admitted Harmon.

One Angel Guild member said: "This movie is demonic. I pulled my family out within 10 minutes." Others shared concerns about demons and Harmon said "dozens and dozens and dozens" said the movie needed a PG-13 rating because of language and horror issues.

One supporter bluntly asked if Angel is still a "Christian based platform." Harmon stressed that its motto promises to "amplify light," but that also means "demons are real" and believers must defeat them.

“If you think Angel is not going to show demons, or show scary images or scary monsters, we just may not be the home for your movie viewing," he explained. Harmon also offered this quotation from Christian apologist G.K. Chesterton: "Fairy tales do not tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed."

While "SKETCH" team members have called it "Jurassic Park" meets "Inside Out," the dark-humor flick also contains nods to Richard Donner's "The Goonies," Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho" and the faith-versus-aliens flick "Signs" by M. Night Shyamalan. Some scenes resemble "Godzilla" movies, only created by a child with crayons and Sharpie pens.

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The fellowship of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, shaped by reality in World War I

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The fellowship of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, shaped by reality in World War I

A British soldier began writing "The Fall of Gondolin" while in a hospital bed, stricken by "trench disease" from the lethal front lines of World War I.

A German soldier later bemoaned the "lice, rats, barbed wire, fleas, shells, bombs, underground caves, corpses, blood, liquor, mice, cats, artillery, filth, bullets, mortars, fire, steel." Add poison gas to that ordeal.

Young J.R.R. Tolkien wrote: "The fume of the burning, and the steam of the fair fountains of Gondolin withering on the flame of the dragons of the north, fell upon the vale of Tumladen in mournful mists." The battlefields were "cold and terrible."

This was a vision of war from a man who had been there, said Joseph Loconte, author of "A Hobbit, a Wardrobe and a Great War." The book explores the many ways that World War I shaped Tolkien and C.S. Lewis.

"Tolkien wasn't writing escapist fantasy," said Loconte, reached by telephone. "If this is about escape, it's the writings of a prisoner who has escaped the world of cells, bars and keys. This kind of escapism … helps us realize that our prisons have windows and we can use them to see better things."

Tolkien later wrote that he began creating his Middle Earth mythology -- the foundation for the future "The Lord of the Rings" -- while "in grimy canteens, at lectures in cold fogs, in huts full of blasphemy and smut, or by candlelight in bell-tents, even some down in dugouts under shell fire."

Yes, the man who survived days huddled in shell craters and trenches in France would later write, in a blank page in an Oxford student's exam book, these famous words: "In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit."

Tolkien and Lewis remain stunningly popular -- in print and on digital screens.