Not "good-bye." A beginning.

This is not “good-bye.”

Jesus’ ascension is a moment of culmination and fulfillment and promise. But it is not good-bye.

At first blush, it sure looks as if Jesus is leaving… in our lesson from Acts, we hear about Jesus being taken up into heaven, and todays Gospel from John shows us Jesus talking about going back to the father…it sure sounds like “good-bye!”

When we hear the Ascension, especially as described in Acts, we can’t help but think of movies with a dramatic departure scene. Remember E.T. The Extra-terrestrial when he tells Eliot to “be good” before the tearful (and light filled) farewell? I like Casablanca when Rick and Lt. Renault walk off into the fog of what could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Jesus’ ascension is not “good-bye.” Jesus’ ascension is in a very real sense only the beginning.

Have you ever noticed how many Christians find ways of focusing on Jesus’ absence? A few weeks ago we were all caught up with the misguided antics of Pastor Harold Camping and his absolute certainty that the rapture would come on May 22nd. The whole silly ruckus reminded me of the disciples in Acts who look up at Jesus and say “now?”

Instead, the followers of Jesus are called back to earth and given a job: starting close to home in Jerusalem and then gradually spiraling out into the rest of the known world, they are to tell the Good News. Matthew’s Gospel says that they are to baptize and teach. This is not good-bye. It is a commissioning.

John’s Gospel, like the other three, is written to a resurrection community; a community to whom Jesus has given the reigns. John's is the last and the latest of the Gospels, written to a group of Christians who are more than a generation past the ministry of Jesus and even the apostles. The original witnesses are passing away and the church is now in it for the long haul.

So in the Gospel today, we hear Jesus praying a farewell prayer. John is teaching us about what Jesus is up to and what our job is. And he frames his description in terms of how estates were owned and run in the first and second century. God, in this prayer, is a patron—the owner of everything—like the owner of a farm or estate, to whom everything produced and sold belongs. Jesus is like the steward. He is the one to whom the job of doling out the master’s resources and seeing to it that everyone is on the job. As the steward of the estate, he is also the one who takes care of the people doing the work. We, the disciples for whom Jesus prays, are the ones who live on the estate and do the work. We receive the resources to do the job and benefits of being under the master’s protection.

To understand grace in the New Testament, one must understand that this was how life was structured in the first century. Someone owns. Someone oversees on behalf of the master and takes care of the ordinary folk. And the ordinary folk pay tribute the master and do his work. That’s how it was in the first century and for much of human history.

Today, we work differently. Today, we do not see ourselves as beholden to anyone, but to understand what Jesus is praying in John’s Gospel, we must recognize that this is how it worked in the first and second centuries. It was a world in terms of interdependent relationships where everyone had a role and a job.

Knowing that, we can now see the radical thing about Jesus’ prayer. In his prayer Jesus changes the relationships. He is going back to the father, and he will care for us. But now we disciples are now the stewards of creation. We are the people who represent the master. We are the ones in whose hands God places the estate.

The ascension is not “good-bye,” it is an Easter appearance and most of all a commissioning of God’s people to do God’s work in God’s world. The ascension is a beginning because now it is possible for Christ who reigns to fill and transform all creation.

Here is how we do that:

We are a praying people. We are a people that Christ prays for. Imagine if we understood ourselves as a people that Jesus prays for. That means we know that we are not alone and that we are able—not self-sufficient, but competent to do God’s work. We are a people who pray because we are being prayed for. Our pattern of worship and prayer shows us again and again that we are a people being prayed for and cared for. We become mindful of our relationship with God in Christ.

We are a witnessing people. What we do points to Christ. Ever notice how many Christians point to an angry, vengeful, judging God? These folks take all their fear, anger and disappointment, dress them up in divine clothing, and then in God’s name tell us what we are doing wrong. Being a witness for Christ is entirely different: being a witness when we show off how God empowers us for justice, changes people at their core, and builds up our gifts.

Witnessing is also something the community of the faithful does. Each of us alone witnesses to the resurrection and ascended Jesus who fills all things. And all of us together are witnesses, too. People see Christ in each of us and in all of us. No one of us expresses the fullness of Christ, no one of us shows off the power and transformation of Christ. We all do. Each of us whose lives God touches show off Christ together.

We are a compassionate people. Being the stewards and being the workers of God’s reign means that we see the world more and more as God sees. We acknowledge and are present to the real pain in this world. And we confront the things that divide us knowing that we are already one with Christ as Christ is one with God. And we look out for those that no one else cares about. We find that when we listen for God in the voices of the weak and the poor we find ourselves walking with Jesus. We find that the God who has lifted our burdens is also lifting the burdens of those around us.

In these ways we are present to the world and the people God has given us.

It is not “good-bye.” It is a beginning. Everything is completed. All preparations are done. The incarnation, the crucifixion, the resurrection means that God and creation are reunited. Christ reigns victorious. Now Jesus has invited us—called us—to share in the job of stewarding creation. We are the living signs of Christ’s presence in this broken world. We are the visible sign of God in Christ filling all things and making them whole. We participate in Christ’s healing of the cosmos one relationship at a time. Not “good-bye,” a beginning.

The Seventh Sunday of Easter: Acts 1:6-14; John 17:1-11

Image: h/t Liturgy. Info here.

The More Things Change Watch....

The Writer's Almanac:

[Machiavelli] also argued that most people value their property more than the lives of their friends and family, and so in some situations it's okay for rulers to kill their citizens, but it's almost never okay to take away their property. He wrote, "Men must be either pampered or crushed, because they can get revenge for small injuries, but not for grievous ones. So any injury a prince does a man should be of a kind where there is no fear of revenge."

We have gladly slaughtered hundreds of thousands (mostly by willfully denying the slaughter) in Afghanistan and Iraq (I stand by the studies published in the Lancet), and sacrificed thousands of American lives as well (for which we are supposed to feel greater concern) for the sake of oil and ideas. And all, of course, without serious fear of revenge (although fear of retaliation has been used to justify our actions, and is still used to justify our military operations to this day). I've often noted that if you want to be disbarred, at least in Texas, just mess with your client's money. Even sleeping through a murder trial won't get you removed from the bar, but taking $100 of your client's money for your own purposes will.

What has always fascinated me about Machiavelli is how close Reinhold Niebuhr came to agreeing with him.

Macchiavelli:

Upon this a question arises: whether it be better to be loved than feared or feared than loved? It may be answered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, is much safer to be feared than loved, when, of the two, either must be dispensed with. Because this is to be asserted in general of men, that they are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly, covetous, and as long as you succeed they are yours entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life and children, as is said above, when the need is far distant; but when it approaches they turn against you. And that prince who, relying entirely on their promises, has neglected other precautions, is ruined; because friendships that are obtained by payments, and not by greatness or nobility of mind, may indeed be earned, but they are not secured, and in time of need cannot be relied upon; and men have less scruple in offending one who is beloved than one who is feared, for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails.

Nevertheless a prince ought to inspire fear in such a way that, if he does not win love, he avoids hatred; because he can endure very well being feared whilst he is not hated, which will always be as long as he abstains from the property of his citizens and subjects and from their women. But when it is necessary for him to proceed against the life of someone, he must do it on proper justification and for manifest cause, but above all things he must keep his hands off the property of others, because men more quickly forget the death of their father than the loss of their patrimony. Besides, pretexts for taking away the property are never wanting; for he who has once begun to live by robbery will always find pretexts for seizing what belongs to others; but reasons for taking life, on the contrary, are more difficult to find and sooner lapse. But when a prince is with his army, and has under control a multitude of soldiers, then it is quite necessary for him to disregard the reputation of cruelty, for without it he would never hold his army united or disposed to its duties.

Among the wonderful deeds of Hannibal this one is enumerated: that having led an enormous army, composed of many various races of men, to fight in foreign lands, no dissensions arose either among them or against the prince, whether in his bad or in his good fortune. This arose from nothing else than his inhuman cruelty, which, with his boundless valour, made him revered and terrible in the sight of his soldiers, but without that cruelty, his other virtues were not sufficient to produce this effect. And shortsighted writers admire his deeds from one point of view and from another condemn the principal cause of them. That it is true his other virtues would not have been sufficient for him may be proved by the case of Scipio, that most excellent man, not of his own times but within the memory of man, against whom, nevertheless, his army rebelled in Spain; this arose from nothing but his too great forbearance, which gave his soldiers more licence than is consistent with military discipline. For this he was upbraided in the Senate by Fabius Maximus, and called the corrupter of the Roman soldiery. The Locrians were laid waste by a legate of Scipio, yet they were not avenged by him, nor was the insolence of the legate punished, owing entirely to his easy nature. Insomuch that someone in the Senate, wishing to excuse him, said there were many men who knew much better how not to err than to correct the errors of others. This disposition, if he had been continued in the command, would have destroyed in time the fame and glory of Scipio; but, he being under the control of the Senate, this injurious characteristic not only concealed itself, but contributed to his glory.

Or, if you will pardon a longer excerpt, this:

EVERY one admits how praiseworthy it is in a prince to keep faith, and to live with integrity and not with craft. Nevertheless our experience has been that those princes who have done great things have held good faith of little account, and have known how to circumvent the intellect of men by craft, and in the end have overcome those who have relied on their word. You must know there are two ways of contesting, the one by the law, the other by force; the first method is proper to men, the second to beasts; but because the first is frequently not sufficient, it is necessary to have recourse to the second. Therefore it is necessary for a prince to understand how to avail himself of the beast and the man. This has been figuratively taught to princes by ancient writers, who describe how Achilles and many other princes of old were given to the Centaur Chiron to nurse, who brought them up in his discipline; which means solely that, as they had for a teacher one who was half beast and half man, so it is necessary for a prince to know how to make use of both natures, and that one without the other is not durable. A prince, therefore, being compelled knowingly to adopt the beast, ought to choose the fox and the lion; because the lion cannot defend himself against snares and the fox cannot defend himself against wolves. Therefore, it is necessary to be a fox to discover the snares and a lion to terrify the wolves. Those who rely simply on the lion do not understand what they are about. Therefore a wise lord cannot, nor ought he to, keep faith when such observance may be turned against him, and when the reasons that caused him to pledge it exist no longer. If men were entirely good this precept would not hold, but because they are bad, and will not keep faith with you, you too are not bound to observe it with them. Nor will there ever be wanting to a prince legitimate reasons to excuse this nonobservance. Of this endless modern examples could be given, showing how many treaties and engagements have been made void and of no effect through the faithlessness of princes; and he who has known best how to employ the fox has succeeded best.

But it is necessary to know well how to disguise this characteristic, and to be a great pretender and dissembler; and men are so simple, and so subject to present necessities, that he who seeks to deceive will always find someone who will allow himself to be deceived. One recent example I cannot pass over in silence. Alexander VI did nothing else but deceive men, nor ever thought of doing otherwise, and he always found victims; for there never was a man who had greater power in asserting, or who with greater oaths would affirm a thing, yet would observe it less; nevertheless his deceits always succeeded according to his wishes, because he well understood this side of mankind.

Therefore it is unnecessary for a prince to have all the good qualities I have enumerated, but it is very necessary to appear to have them. And I shall dare to say this also, that to have them and always to observe them is injurious, and that to appear to have them is useful; to appear merciful, faithful, humane, religious, upright, and to be so, but with a mind so framed that should you require not to be so, you may be able and know how to change to the opposite.

And you have to understand this, that a prince, especially a new one, cannot observe all those things for which men are esteemed, being often forced, in order to maintain the state, to act contrary to faith, friendship, humanity, and religion. Therefore it is necessary for him to have a mind ready to turn itself accordingly as the winds and variations of fortune force it, yet, as I have said above, not to diverge from the good if he can avoid doing so, but, if compelled, then to know how to set about it.

For this reason a prince ought to take care that he never lets anything slip from his lips that is not replete with the above-named five qualities, that he may appear to him who sees and hears him altogether merciful, faithful, humane, upright, and religious. There is nothing more necessary to appear to have than this last quality, inasmuch as men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, because it belongs to everybody to see you, to few to come in touch with you. Every one sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are, and those few dare not oppose themselves to the opinion of the many, who have the majesty of the state to defend them; and in the actions of all men, and especially of princes, which it is not prudent to challenge, one judges by the result.

For that reason, let a prince have the credit of conquering and holding his state, the means will always be considered honest, and he will be praised by everybody because the vulgar are always taken by what a thing seems to be and by what comes of it; and in the world there are only the vulgar, for the few find a place there only when the many have no ground to rest on.

One prince of the present time, whom it is not well to name, never preaches anything else but peace and good faith, and to both he is most hostile, and either, if he had kept it, would have deprived him of reputation and kingdom many a time.

Niebuhr:

The selfishness of nations is proverbial. It was a dictum of George Washington that nations were not to be trusted beyond their own interest. "No state," declares a German author, "have ever entered a treaty for any reason other than self interest," and adds: "A statesman who has any other motive deserves to be hung." "In every part of the world," said Professor Dickey, "where British interests are at stake, I am in favor of advancing these interests even at the cost of war. The only qualification I admit is that the country we desire to annex or take under our protection should be calculated to confer a tangible advantage upon the British Empire." National ambitions are not always avowed as honestly as this, as we shall see later, but that is a fair statement of the actual facts, which need hardly be elaborated for any student of history. (p. 84)

As for relationships between nations:

It is of course possible that the rational interest in international justice may become, on occasion, so widespread and influential that it will affect the diplomacy of states. But this is not usual. In other words the mind, which places a restraint upon impulses in individual life, exists only in a very inchoate form in the nation. It is, moreover, much more remote from the will of the nation than in private individuals; for the government expresses the national will, and that will is moved by the emotions of the populace and the prudential self-interest of dominant economic classes. Theoretically it is possible to have a national electorate so intelligent, that the popular impulses and the ulterior interests of special groups are brought under the control of a national mind. But practically the rational understanding of political issues remains such a minimum force that national unity of action can be achieved only upon such projects as are either initiated by the self-interest of the dominant groups, in control of the government, or supported by the popular emotions and hysterias which from time to time run through a nation. In other words the nation is a corporate unity, held together much more by force and emotion than by mind. Since there can be no ethical action without self-criticism, and no self-criticism without the rational capacity of self-transcendence, it is natural that national attitudes can hardly approximate the ethical. Even those tendencies toward self-criticism which do express themselves are usually thwarted by the governing classes and by a certain instinct for unity in society itself. For self-criticism is a kind of disunity, which the feeble mind of a nation finds difficulty in distinguishing from dangerous forms of inner conflict. So nations crucify their moral rebels with their criminals on Golgotha, not being able to distinguish between the moral idealism which surpasses, and the anti-social conduct which falls below, that moral mediocrity on the level of which every society unifies its life.... [A]s Tyrell the Catholic modernist observed..."So far as society has a self...it must be self-assertive, proud, self-complacent, and egotistical." (p. 87-89)

For Macchiavelli, of course, "society" is the Prince.

What Niebuhr was arguing against was the idea of a "Christian nation," of a country (not a group of people) that would adhere to Christian principles. Those principles require sacrifice and "moral idealism" which, as Niebuhr points out, no country can aspire to or even hope to achieve. Consider how easily emotions have been stirred in this country just since 9/11. Or that I received an e-mail the other day once again denouncing "Hanoi" Jane Fonda (the past really isn't over, especially for those of us who remember "Hanoi" Jane). The Jane Fonda example is a perfect example of the "difficulty in distinguishing...dangerous forms of inner conflict." Indeed, you could say the same about the entire Vietnam War, a conflict still alive and well for those of us who lived through it, but already ancient history and a unitary, settled issue ("College protests ended the war and everybody knows it was unjust!") to those with no memory of it. Some still think Jane Fonda committed treason; much simpler to see it that way. Some don't; and many, of course, know nothing about it, or consider it at best a minor historical footnote. But if Fonda is not guilty of treason for what she did during the war, what meaning does treason have? And if some are not guilty of war crimes, or at least violations of U.S. law, for committing and directing torture, what meaning do the laws have? Perhaps it's just a matter of whose ox is being gored. Perhaps it is a matter of whether the nation acts, or demands action. Clearly it is not a matter of individual choice, except for the individuals who have the power, or who exert the influence of the dominant class.

I see something similar in the accepted history of World War II. You need only watch "The Best Years of Our Lives" to see characters who declare a new depression will follow the end of that war, and that the war itself was unjust and unnecessary and a conspiracy among dark powers, to realize the picture even then was not so simple, nor the national mind so clear and rational and united, as we imagine. To this day we imagine that war as an ethical exercise, especially as we use it to justify new wars because "freedom is not free!", or some such nonsense. Of course, no one in Iraq or Afghanistan or Libya, for that matter, threatens my freedom. As Osama bin Laden reportedly said, if he was fighting us because he hated our freedoms, why didn't he attack Sweden? But there was nothing ethical about World War II; it wasn't fought to end the Holocaust and establish the nation of Israel. It wasn't even fought to keep us free. We fought because we were attacked, and for no other reason. We have since decided it meant we must remain ever vigilant and truly make the world safe for democracy, and from that delusion came all of our post-war and Cold War history, right down to the current actions in Libya.

The nation Nieubuhr describes is little different from the prince Macchiavelli describes. Both must act in the interests of self-preservation, but preservation of a larger group, not of a small, homogeneous group. That reality is its own set of problems. The other set of problems comes when we cover our self-interest in self-justification, in a "higher purpose," in the decorative colors of a purpose other than our selfish ones. Perhaps at this point its timely to remember the words of Niebuhr far less famous than his "Serenity Prayer," but more appropriate:

“Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope.

“Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith.

“Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we must be saved by love.

“No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint.

“Therefore we must be saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness."

--Reinhold Niebuhr

Fort Worth Requests Texas Supreme Court to Hear Appeal

Yesterday, June 1, Bishop Jack Iker and his Diocese of Fort Worth filed papers with the Supreme Court of Texas which request that court to take jurisdiction of the appeal from Judge Chupp's grant of summary judgment to Bishop Ohl and the ersatz diocese. Bishop Iker's office has released the following statement about their action:

Statement of Jurisdiction asks state Supreme Court to hear appeal

On Wednesday, June 1, attorneys for the Diocese initiated our direct appeal to the Texas State Supreme Court, arguing that the high court should review the trial court's Feb. 8 judgment in favor of local Episcopal Church (TEC) parties without the delay of an intermediate appeal. The Statement of Jurisdiction asks for the Supreme Court's immediate attention to what it describes as ”the largest church property dispute in Texas history,” involving ”60 churches and over $100 million in property.” The Statement shows that the case meets all the statutory requirements for a direct appeal. Foremost among these is the requirement that the lower court's decision challenges “the constitutionality of a state statute.” It explains that the trial court order, if allowed to stand, would overturn trust law in the state and set a precedent against the use of neutral principles to decide church property cases. The neutral principles approach has been established in Texas and most other states since 1979 and has been upheld in five Texas courts of appeal, as well as the state Supreme Court, as recently as 2007. The effect on trust law would extend to virtually every non-profit organization in the state, making it difficult or impossible for them to hold bank accounts, take loans, or conduct other business anywhere in Texas. TEC supporters have 10 days in which to respond to the filing. Diocesan attorney Scott Brister explains that “the Court holds conference and takes votes every Monday in June; thereafter, it does not convene again until August.” Attorneys for the Diocese hope the court will accept the appeal before its summer recess and set a hearing date for early fall.

The link in the statement is to a 1.4MB .pdf of the Statement of Jurisdiction filed with the Court. As noted above, Judge Chupp's decision based itself on the now-archaic doctrine of deference to "hierarchical" churches, and only the Supreme Court can decide whether or not this approach is still valid in Texas. Bishop Iker's attorney quoted in the statement, Scott Brister, is himself a former Justice of the Supreme Court of Texas, now back in private practice.

The appeal is a Texas-sized piece of litigation: take a look at the first five pages of the Jurisdictional Statement, which are required just to list all of the parties involved and their counsel!

We should know by June 27 whether the Supreme Court will agree to hear the appeal.

Here's Why I Link to Sister Mary Martha

Always entertaining -- but this time, she surpasses herself. An outstanding, mandatory read -- even for those of us who are "Catholic Lite."

After you read the link, ask yourself this question (please respond in the comments): how should an Episcopalian member of the clergy respond to the same inquiry? What differences between that response and Sister Mary Martha's are most notable, and why?

Finally, ask yourself this question: which is better at handling atheists -- the Episcopal Church (USA), or the Roman Catholic Church?

These Things That Pass for Knowledge I Don't Understand....

I just finished reading "Dragonrider" in my Science Fiction Hall of Fame collection. It's such a long story I somehow never got around to reading it before; and while I was reading it (off and on), I heard this interview on Fresh Air. It doesn't quite come through in the book excerpt or the article (although the references to pop culture in the book tell you we aren't in the groves of academia here), but in the interview the Director of the Laboratory of Perception and Action at Baylor College of Medicine sad some remarkably stupid things.

First, it turns out that, in a crisis, time really doesn't slow down like it does in the Matrix (his analogy, not mine). No kidding! Whodathunkit? Apparently when you are sent hurtling backwards in a 150 foot drop into a net, your perceive the fall as taking longer than it actually does, but you don't perceive events in slow motion. You can't actually (and the experiment proves it!) slow down events as they pass by. So time passes as it always does, and your perception of it is unchanged; but is changed, because you thought it was longer than it was. Except you thought that later, after it was over! Time, you see, is a matter of perception! And memory! Which will come as news to thousands of trial lawyers interrogating eye-witnesses to events!

And this also means that when I'm asleep and don't perceive the passage of time, it still passes, but I don't know it! And if I sleep a long time but very deeply, and still wake up tired because I don't feel like I slept at all! It's because time is just a perception for me, even though its still real! Somehow! And I didn't know this was true until these experiments!

Golly gee willikers! But you know, this guy is a scientist, so this stuff must be all truthy and stuff! But wait, there's more!

It seems the good doctor is interested in "reality," in what's "out there" and our perceptions of it! Wowee-zowee! Why, that sounds just like what Bishop Berkeley was up to! In the 18th century! But, you know, this is sciency! So it's more real! Or something....

Maybe he should just read this poem by John Hollander. I use it every semester to teach my students something about poetry, and epistemology, and Platonism, and empiricism, and perception, and memory. It might be more useful than throwing people off drops from 150 feet up.

What does this have to do with "Dragonrider"? Well, the crux of that story is that the past has been lost to the present. A lot of valuable information the present needs didn't make the crossing from the past, when it was known, despite the presence of records and ballads and all kinds of efforts and devices (even a tapestry!) for recording the information. Information is like that: it's just information unless it is interpreted and understood. And we tend to interpret and understand what we need to know for the present situation, and anything we don't think we need to know we discard as useless, archaic, uninteresting, or it just gets lost. That is what has happened to the people in the present in the story (and they finally recover the vital information through basically a magic trick of traveling into the past). I found myself comparing it to Asimov's classic story "Nightfall," where all knowledge is lost not because people are not perfectly rational and don't shift their interests over time, but because night eventually comes to a planet with two stars, and comes so rarely that the event provokes madness and chaos, and all knowledge of civilization is lost, to be rebuilt again from scratch when the suns return. It's a lovely piece of mythology, to imagine we stand on the shoulders of our ancestors and understand perfectly all that they knew, and add our store of knowledge, and so rise even higher on the steps of our, or rather their, dead selves.

But it's all bosh. "Dragonrider" gets that much exactly right. We know what we need to know for the present, and we discard whatever we don't need to know from the past, or we think we don't need to know it; and some of what we do hang on to, we hang onto out of tradition or some other fossilizing purpose, and lose the value of the knowledge altogether, until we find we need to reinvent the wheel all over again. I first learned this lesson in a bibliography class, where as a humble English major seeking a Master's Degree, I found out how important the preservation both of records, and of the knowledge in those records, is and can be. It's a lesson I've learned over and over again in the study and practice of law, and in the study and practice of theology.

Which, at least from Dr. Eagleman's description, is what neuroscience needs to do: learn from the past, because so far they seem to be only catching up with an Irish bishop from the 18th century. Any decent third year philosophy student could discuss the nature of reality and perception with Dr. Eagleman, not to mention the nature of time. He might be interested to know what Immanuel Kant had to say on the subject, too; or perhaps even Kurt Godel. It would certainly save him from re-inventing the wheel, and discovering that movies don't reflect reality.