God is Dead


Hugh Paxton’s Blog had had rather a tiresome day. My wife had ordered me to leave forever, the drains were belching and emitting terrible smells. My daughter skipped school and that seemed to be my fault. Something to do with a friend’s birthday party and a missing rabbit cushion present. By ten o’clock things seemed calm. I had a look at the Netflix suggestions and there it was! God is dead! A bit of a stupid title – if God is dead then he must have been alive before he died. But the synopsis suggested an encounter between an aggressive atheist professor and a young Christian believer. Personally I am not religious. I don’t believe in any of it. But that’s just a passive sort of approach. If somebody believes in something why not if it doesn’t involve explosions. I like churches, mosques, pagan ruins, and religion has generated wonderful music. But this film got on my tits!

For the first twenty minutes I was rooting for the young heroic Christian and hoping he’d daunt the horrid atheist prof. Nothing to do with logic. Just I didn’t like the prof and the idealistic young Christian seemed bullied.

Fair play. But I began to feel that things weren’t cricket. The movie began to smell.

Then it stank. I watched it all and was filled with admiration for its makers – it is the neatest and most convincing piece of cinema I have ever seen promoting God and Jesus.

It’s all there. Rock and God and Rock and Roll! A nasty Muslim. Caring priests. A black guy who loves everything. Especially Jesus.

I took a brief break. Our dog had eaten a half kilo of Christmas cake, was allergic to raisins and was vomiting blood. My gals were screaming. It doesn’t help, really doesn’t. Off to the vet. Car windows open. I suggested that it was the dog’s fault. More screaming. At me. Fair enough. Nobody else to scream at.

Chaos, noise, vet bills, dog fine, back home. And back to God is Dead.

The terrible thing about a movie or a person with an agenda is that the agenda might be sweetly packaged, might have jokes and music, good looking heroes, despicable villains, but if you have a brain you see through this charade and in a way, or in my way, rather resent their stupid assumption that we believe what we see. God according to this movie isn’t dead. There’s a music festival to prove it. The atheist professor gets run over by a car and converts to Christianity. God doesn’t put in an appearance. He doesn’t do that sort of thing. Or if he does I’ve not seen it. It could have been a very clever film. But it succumbed to temptation and thought the viewers were less clever than them. And God. It’s gentle viewing. Not a bad film if you are religious and like a bit of creativity in a cinema.

I’ll stick with this:

“First I wasn’t

Then I was

Now I ain’t again.”

A gravestone in England.

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