ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

India

Draupadi Unleashed – Lavish Melodrama

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“Your destiny is set.”

Draupadi Unleashed, written and directed by Tony Stopperan, based on a book by Nisha Sabharwal, is the story of a young woman who struggles with her place in the very structured patriarchal society of aristocratic Indian society in the early 20th century.

The film focuses on 16 year old Indira (Selena Qureshi) who has been raised by her widowed mother Sita (Melanie Chandra) and her paternal grandmother Amma (Anna George). Indira is reaching the age to marry. When her cousin Gautam (Taaha Shah Badusha) comes to visit, the two fall in love. But there is another suitor, Amar (Dominic Rains), who is handsome, rich, and sophisticated (noted by his western fashion). We can tell early on that Amar is very full of himself and expects to get what he wants. In this case that is Indira as a kind of trophy wife. All this leaves Indira torn between her duty to her family through the arranged marriage and following her love with Gautam.

Yes, there is a great deal of melodrama involved. There is also a touch of magical realism with visions of a young boy, a book with magical writing and intermittent small earthquakes. And it is tied to a respected Swami (Cas Anvar) who comes to bless the wedding, but also takes Indira under his wing for special attention. The interplay of reality and the surreal never quite bears fruit. The magical realism seems more of an intrusion to the story than an integral part.

The film has some beautiful art direction. It provides a lush visual experience that reflects the upper class Indian society. But set within that beauty is the darkness of male domination of women. The women of the story are expected to know their places and (Amar tells Indira) “Behave yourself.”

The women in the story are all bound to the roles they inherit. We see it most in Indira, but the other women characters all share in this. Indira yearn for happiness, but that isn’t really the goal for a woman in this setting. The Swami advises her (in very Hindu thinking) to find freedom in detachment—to let go of her own desires. Yet we will see that such desires are not easy to control, even for the men in the story. The freedom that Indira desires is never fully defined, and as such never fully realized within the confines of the story.

Draupadi Unleased is showing in select theaters.

Widow of Silence – Help or Hinder

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Kashmir has been the site of conflict between India and Pakistan since the partition in 1948. Although it is majority Muslim, it is controlled by India. As the conflict has gone on, there have been many who have been arrested (officially or unofficially) and never returned home. Widow of Silence, from Praveen Morchhale, is a story of survival of those who are left behind—often termed “half-widows”.

Aasia (Shilpi Marwaha) has been a half-widow for seven years. She is struggling to care for her ailing mother-in-law and 11 year-old daughter in the social and legal limbo that status creates. Each week she takes a long ride in the local taxi (actually a pick-up truck that fills up as it goes) to a nearby town. She is seeking a death certificate for her missing husband so she can claim the ancestral land (only 1/3 acre, but anything of value is important). The Registrar (Ajay Chourey) is a corrupt government official. He puts her off with bureaucratic delays, but says he can make things happen if she sells the land to his friend (and pay the Registrar a 20% commission). When she refuses, he continues to obstruct her in various ways, including seeking sexual favors. Although the film is filled with desperation, it comes up with an appropriately absurdist solution to Aasia’s predicament.

The film underscores the vulnerability women and children face, not only in Kashmir, but in many conflict zones. In his research for the film, one half-widow told Marcchale “nobody considers us alive”. For Aasia’s family, this plays out in the derision her daughter faces in school. Other students bully her, and if she responds, the school punishes her. The invisibility and powerlessness of women such as the half-widows is a pain just as strong as the loss of a husband or father.

The film also speaks to the abuse and corruption that can sometimes be intrinsic to government. As the Registrar makes clear, a piece of paper from the government can be a powerful thing—either to help or hinder. When that power is in the hands of government, we aren’t always surprised to see abuse. But while we as people may not have the power of government, we still face the same choices as we meet the world around us—we can help or we can hinder.

Widow of Silence is available on Virtual Cinema through local art houses.

Photos courtesy of Oration Films

Mr. Toilet: The World’s #2 Man

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“Turning poop culture into pop culture is the fastest way to solve the sanitation crisis” (Jack Sim)

Yes, there is scatological humor in Lily Zepeda’s documentary Mr. Toilet: The World’s #2 Man. How can there not be given the subject: a worldwide sanitation crisis. It tells us that 2.5 billion people (about 40 percent of the world’s population) do not have access to that most basic of requirements of sanitation, toilets.

Central to the film is a Singaporean business man, who after making his fortune turned his attention to crap. Jack Sim grew up in a Singapore slum with no sanitation. Kids who swam in the river either developed an immunity or got sick and died. When his family moved into an apartment (nine people in six hundred square feet) that had a toilet, he believed they were now wealthy. He has set out to bring this basic sanitation to as many people as possible. But it is a daunting task.

Sim has created the World Toilet Organization. He has also become the often comic face of the sanitation crisis. He is perfectly willing to humiliate himself to bring attention to the issue. For example, since 007 flipped over spells LOO, he has posed as a James Bond-ish character, among other pop culture figures. Much of the film is filled with his humorous presentations about poo.

Sim takes us to China to see a rural school with horrendous bathroom facilities. He talks to the students who would not ask their parents to provide real toilets—even though all their parents can afford cell phones. Phones are considered a necessity, but apparently not toilets.

We also go to India where Sim is working with the government in Andhra Pradesh state to provide 6 million needed toilets (but where will the money come from?) In India many women fear rape when defecating in the open.

We also follow him as he works through the Singapore government to have the UN declare November 19 to be World Toilet Day. (It’s coming up soon. How will you celebrate?) That may seem frivolous until you remember the number noted above.

While the film is essentially a consciousness raising documentary, because Sim is so central to the story, it also shows us some of the strain such work puts on him, his family, and his organization. In time, he must begin to take a different approach and be happy with small victories rather than grand displays.

Let’s face it, it is a bit unseemly to talk about toilets and shit. (If you can’t handle such language, this film isn’t for you.) We take basic sanitation for granted. Director Lily Zepeda recounts the genesis of the film being when she was on an L.A. freeway and needed to pee. As she got off to go to a store to use the restroom, a news story came on about Caltech winning a competition backed by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation to design a toilet. She could easily find a toilet, but what of the rest of the world.

I cannot imagine having to live with open defecation, the stench, and disease that accompany it. But that is a part of life for billions of people.  Most of us just shake our head at the problem and the enormity of finding a solution. But for people like Jack Sim, it is a challenge that must be addressed.

1on1 with Anupam Kher (HOTEL MUMBAI)

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In this 1on1, Julie Levac comes to you live from the red carpet of the Toronto premiere of Hotel Mumbai on March 20, 2019. Hear star Anupam Kher tell her why Hotel Mumbai is one of the most important films of our time.

You can also stream the episode above on podomatic, Spotify or on your Alexa device via. Stitcher! Or, you can download the ep on Apple Podcasts, Google Play or more!

Hotel Mumbai – Sacrifices for God

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What is a worthy sacrifice to make for one’s gods? Does that sound like a basis for a action thriller? It turns out to be a very important part of Hotel Mumbai, the feature debut of director Anthony Maras. Based on the 2008 terrorist attack on Mumbai that created three days of chaos in that city, the film focuses on the assault on the famed Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, which was one of a dozen targets of the attack.

The Taj is a very upscale hotel, where guests are pampered, especially the VIP guests. That could entail drawing a bath to precisely 47° C, or making sure that a guest’s call girls for the evening are waiting in his room by the time he finishes dinner. As Chef Hemant Oberoi (Anupam Kher) reminds his kitchen and wait staff at the start of their shift, “The guest is god.”

(From L to R) Armie Hammer as “David”, Tilda Cobham-Hervey as “Sally” and Nazanin Boniadi as “Zahra” in director’s Anthony Maras’ HOTEL MUMBAI, a Bleecker Street release. Credit: Kerry Monteen / Bleecker Street

The story revolves around groups within the hotel: the staff, including Oberoi and a young Sikh waiter, Arjun (Dev Patel); the hotel guests, including David (Armie Hammer) and Zahra (Nazanin Boniadi) who are there with their infant child and its nanny Sally (Tilda Cobham-Hervey), and Vasili, a Russian millionaire (Jason Isaacs); and the Pakistani gunmen (Amandeep Singh, Suhail Nayyar, and Manoj Mehra). When the attack begins in a train station, the chaos of the city seems far removed from the peacefulness within the Taj. Indeed, many people run to the Taj to seek safety. But soon gunmen are inside the hotel, randomly killing whoever they come across, and eventually going room to room hunting more victims. As the battle engulfs the hotel, David and Zahra are frantic to know Sally and the baby are safe, but how can they go to get them?

The hotel staff do all they can to provide safety to the guests, eventually taking them a back way to a private club, the most secure place in the hotel. Although some of the staff have escaped to return to their own families, many remain because of the mantra “the guest is god.” The killing continues, the staff keeps acting nobly, the parents and Sally do all they can to try to protect and save the child. The tension is well developed as the story progresses.

But we also get time to know these gunmen who are terrorizing the hotel. They are more than one-dimensional monsters that we might expect. They have been radicalized and trained for this mission, but the more we get to know them, the more human they become. They are following the orders of their leader over the phone, but in time, they begin to question the brutality of what they are doing.

We also learn that a key part of their motivation is that their families are to get money. Just as the waiter Arjun is from a poor family and is trying to provide for his wife and children, these gunmen are doing what they feel they must to provide for their families. That similarity grows through the film.

The other important comparison between the staff and the terrorists is that they see what they are doing as acting on behalf of their gods. “The guest is god” takes on a deeper meaning when we see that the staff is willing to sacrifice themselves in order to protect the guests. For Arjun, it becomes very personal when one of the guests is afraid of him because he wears a turban (a part of the Sikh religious practice), he calmly explains its deep importance it holds, but offers to remove it because she is his guest. While the staff is serving their guests/gods, the terrorists are being told over and over by their leader (who is in constant contact by phone) of the reward their God has waiting for them.

Dev Patel stars as “Arjun” in director Anthony Maras’ HOTEL MUMBAI, a Bleecker Street release. Credit: Kerry Monteen / Bleecker Street

But if both the hotel staff and the gunmen are acting out of their commitment to their gods—even to the point of giving their lives, does that make them equivalent? Certainly not. But we are called on to understand how they differ and which group is offering up a sacrifice that is worthy of their devotion.

People of faith often speak of the ways we serve our gods. How do we judge that service? Is it how intense we are in our actions? Or is it seen not in ourselves but the way our service brings our gods’ love and compassion to the world we have been sent to serve? It is in this way that we can see the value of those in the film who are serving their gods in different ways.

Photos courtesy of Bleecker Street

 

Oscar-Nominated Short Documentaries

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When it is time to award the best in films each year, the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences include three categories of short films in their Oscar presentations. Most people don’t get to see many shorts. They play at festivals, and occasionally in front of a feature film. But short films are an art form worth attention. Many (probably most) feature filmmakers started out making short film. To tell a story in such a brief format takes skill. All the Oscar-nominated short films will be playing in theaters in special programs. To see where the films will be playing near you, go to https://shorts.tv/theoscarshorts/theatrical-release/

Here is a look at the five Oscar-nominated short documentaries.

In Black Sheep (UK, 27 minutes, directed by Ed Perkins) a family of Nigerian immigrants moves out of London after another Nigerian boy is killed. Eleven year old Cornelius then discovers their new home is full of violent racists as well. After being beaten, he decides to become more like those who attacked him. He wears blue contact lenses and bleaches his skin. Soon he is accepted by the others, but then he is now part of the violence against blacks. How can he be true to his real identity? The film is told by a now adult Cornelius. His reflections are engrossing as he describes what he became at that time.

My reaction: Something about this film stirred something within me. I could not imagine someone becoming the very thing that injured him, especially to the extent that he did so. I had to take a walk after screening this film to try to clear that imagery and the emotions it brought up for me. That is the power this film held for me.

“We don’t run away from hard stuff. We don’t run away from suffering.” In End Game (USA, 40 minutes, directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman) we go inside two San Francisco institutions that care for the dying: UCSF Medical Center’s Palliative Care Team and the Zen Hospice Project. This is not just a story of hospice care, it shows some of the difficult decisions patients and families face and we hear them and the doctor and other professionals working through those decisions.

My reaction: This is indeed about facing the hard stuff. With death no longer a remote possibility, patients and families often struggle with how they want to spend those last months, weeks, days. The filmmakers treated these stories with respect and compassion. I’m especially grateful for the patients and families that were willing to allow this film to show this most difficult, emotional, and intimate time. This is my favorite among the nominees. End Game is a Netflix film and is currently available to stream.

Lifeboat (USA, 34 minutes, directed by Skye Fitzgerald) focuses on the refugee crisis in the Mediterranean by going with volunteers from the German non-profit Sea-Watch to search for and rescue boatloads of African refugees. In the film they encounter boats filled with about 1000 refugees—boats with no water or power. These are people who have been terribly exploited and are further exploited by the traffickers who have set them adrift. It is not a simple task to rescue them in an orderly fashion. But it is an act of great humanity and compassion. As one of them notes, when you see a crisis at a distance, you see a mass of people. When you get close, you see individuals.

My reaction: A note at the end of the film tells us that 1 out of 18 people who attempt to cross the Mediterranean will drown. When we hear about immigration crises, we often think in terms of the mass of people. (And some would encourage us to fear that mass.) This film reminds us that the crisis is about people who often see the possibility of drowning as preferable to the atrocities of the lives they are trying to escape. Each person—each individual—is a beloved child of God. We should learn to treat them as such.

Patriotism is front and center in A Night at the Garden (USA, 7 minutes, directed by Marshall Curry).  It shows archival footage of a “Pro American Rally” held at Madison Square Garden on February 20, 1039. There were American flags, a huge portrait of George Washington, many Brown Shirts, and Nazi salutes. Just seven months before the start of World War II, 20,000 Nazi supporters were making the case that Americans should support Hitler’s policies. The antisemitism of this group is obvious when we hear speakers. It serves as a reminder that America has often had those who do not accept the diversity that has made the country what it is.

My reaction: A little bit of background would have been helpful. When we hear speakers in the footage, they are always speaking with an accent. This particular rally was held by the German-American Bund. It was a wide-spread movement, but never a particularly large group. But since white supremacy has been become more visible in recent years, it’s worth noting that it has been with us a very long time. That is not to say we should tolerate it, but rather to be sure not to treat it as passing fad.

Girls in India may not have access to what we would think of as basic supplies for menstruation. Period. End of Sentence. (USA, 26 minutes, directed by Rayka Zehtabchi) shows us the dilemma this causes in rural areas, where sometimes girls are shamed to the point of quitting school. The answer put forward here is a machine that allows women in such areas to manufacture and sell inexpensive pads made from local materials. In the process, it provides employment and empowerment for the women involved.

My reaction: First World people often can’t imagine that something like menstruation could create such issues. But when ignorance about such a normal thing (which we see early in the film) exists, it will inevitably cause problems for those who have the least power to fight against it. It is interesting to see something as commonplace (for us) as a menstrual pad to be able to bring such change to lives.

Viceroy’s House: History on the Personal Scale

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In 1947 hundreds of years of British rule over India came to an end with the creation of two countries: India and Pakistan, and the largest mass population migration in history. Viceroy’s House is a kind of Upstairs/Downstairs view of that history. Director Gurinder Chadha, who was born in Kenya and grew up in London, says that she grew up “in the shadow of Partition”. Her grandparents were part of that mass migration. Although the events have been covered before, she has found a new way to bring this story to the screen that allows us to not only see the history, but the personal stories of those involved.

The story begins with the arrival of Lord Louis Mountbatten (Hugh Bonneville) who has been tasked with being the “last Viceroy”—to oversee that granting of independence to India. The “upstairs” part of the story involves Mountbatten, his wife Edwina (Gillian Anderson), daughter Pamela (Lily Travers), and the political situation involving the negotiations with the Indian leaders, Mohandas Gandhi (Neeraj Kabi), Jawaharlal Nehru (Tanveer Ghani), and Muhammed Ali Jinnah (Denzil Smith). While Mountbatten has often been saddled with blame for Partition, this film shows him and his family to be good people in a hard situation—and that he may have been set up to take the blame.

While all of this is taking place, there is also the world of the various Indian staff at the Viceroy’s House (the seat of the colonial government). We get into that “downstairs” world through a love story involving Jeet Kumar (Manish Dayal), a new personal valet to Lord Mountbatten, and Aalia Noor (Huma Qureshi), the translator for Mountbatten’s daughter. Jeet and Aalia are from the same town, but because he is Hindu and she is Muslim, their romance has never been approved.

The interaction of these two perspectives to the historic events unfolding makes this a much more human story than a historical story. Although we see the disruptive and violent effect of Partition that displaced millions of people (and killed perhaps a million), we are emotionally drawn to the personal stories of Jeet and Aalia, and to a lesser extent of the Mountbatten family. It is the personal anguish that the decision to divide the nation—and in effect the lovers—that becomes the metaphor for the broader turmoil of Partition.

One of the interesting parts of this historical event is that for hundreds of years Hindus, Sikhs, and Muslims all lived side by side—and were united in their opposition to the British Raj. But when independence became a possibility, the alliance seemed to break apart. (According to the film, this was secretly encouraged by the British government.) Neighbors whose families had coexisted for generations now had to choose their allegiance.

Although set in a history of seventy years ago, the film mirrors issues that continue to vex the world. We allow divisions between people to be the norm in many ways. We see it in the racial conflicts in the US, in the anti-immigrant movements here and in Europe, in the targeting of synagogues and mosques for vandalism and terrorism. In the film we hear Gandhi state, “All religions are true. We are brothers of one soul.” Gandhi strongly opposed Partition. He believed that even though we have serious differences, we must learn to live together and to love one another. Yet in seventy years we do not seem to have learned how to overcome those divisions. Perhaps because we fail to see that we are indeed brothers and sisters of one soul.

Photos courtesy of IFC Films

Lion – A Story of Being Lost and Found

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In Lion a child faces perhaps the most frightening of all prosepects—being separated from his family and far from home. That he manages to find a new family in a faraway land may seem like a rescue (and it is), but what of the family he lost?

The film is divided into two approximately equal halves. Five year old Saroo (Sunny Pawar) lives with his mother, older brother, and younger sister in India. They live mostly by scavenging—sometimes dangerously. When his brother Guddu heads off one night to look for work in another city, Saroo demands to come along. After a train ride, Saroo is asleep. Guddu leaves him on a bench in the station to go get his bearings. When Saroo wakes up the station is completely empty. He searches for Guddu, but cannot find him. In time he finds a spot in a train to go to sleep, but while he sleeps the train leaves. By the time Saroo can get off he is about 1000 miles from home in the big city of Kolkata. There he falls in with other homeless street children until he ends up in an orphanage. Because he doesn’t know the basic information such as where he is from, he can’t be returned to his family. In time he is adopted by a couple (Nicole Kidman and David Wenham) from Australia and flies away to live in Tasmania.

Nicole Kidman and star in LION

The film leaps ahead twenty years for the second half. Saroo (Dev Patel) is now grown and getting ready to head to the Australian mainland for a course in hotel management. There he meets Lucy (Rooney Mara), an American student, and others from around the world. He tells them his story and he begins to have brief glimpses of memories. He wonders what became of the rest of his family, but has no way of knowing where to look. Someone suggest approximating a search area and using Google Earth to find places he remembers. This becomes an obsession. How can he find anything in such a vast land as India? And what would he do if he actually found what he was looking for?

Dev Patel stars in LION

Family is obviously one of the central themes of the film. Saroo’s family in India was impoverished, but the bonds of love are very obvious. When he is cut off from his family, he is in great danger. That he managed to survive the streets for as long as he did is miraculous. Even in the orphanage, things are only marginally better. When he is sent to his Australian parents he finds a new life—one of comfort and possibilities for happiness. Here is another family with bonds of love—even though there is a side plot dealing with another Indian adopted by the family who brings emotional issues with him, even as an adult.

But family isn’t just about parents who love him. He also must come to consider what it means to be a son and a brother. To truly understand that he must try to better understand the family of his birth and the love that he found and strives to remember in that setting. The storyline with the adopted brother wasn’t really developed enough see how Saroo had to come to terms with his feelings both for that brother and the one he lost as a child.

Another key theme is what it means to be lost and found. In Christian thought, salvation is often described as being found. Saroo understands being lost: alone in a strange city, knowing no one, unable to speak the language. He has nowhere to turn. Yet, through various circumstances, he manages to be “found” and saved by strangers who take him in and make him their own son. But Saroo also comes to realize that the trauma of being lost applies to his birth family as well. He knows that they must have been devastated and searched for him. His obsession with finding them is as much to bring them closure as it is a search for his roots. But in his obsession he runs the risk of cutting himself off from those who love him and ending up lost in an emotional sense. His salvation is not limited to being sent to a loving family, but also in finding himself as he seeks to reconnect with his other family.

The Man Who Knew Infinity – The Mathematics of Faith

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“An equation has no meaning to me unless it expresses a thought of God.”

Theoretical mathematics may not seem a fertile ground for a movie, yet there have been some very popular and acclaimed films grounded in that discipline (A Beautiful Mind and The Imitation Game come to mind). It may seem even less likely to use that field to speak of the nature of faith.  The Man Who Knew Infinity is both entertaining and thought-provoking.

man infinifty 3

This is the story of Srinivasa Ramanujan, a mathematician without formal education who is “discovered” by G. H. Hardy, a Cambridge professor. Ramanujan goes to England at the start for World War I, leaving his wife and mother in India. There he strives to have his work published, but Hardy demands that he provide proofs for his very complex (and exciting to mathematicians) equations. Ramanujan must put up with the racist and classist prejudices of the others at the university (which includes dietary issues) and with Hardy’s personal coldness. Can this brilliant mind (called miraculous by one professor) find its way to not only great discoveries, but the recognition of his genius?

In the film math serves as the medium that allows the characters to talk about not just numbers, but about existential meaning. For Ramanujan, mathematics is an aesthetic. He explains it to his wife as a painting with colors you cannot see. Mathematics is not about the practical, but about beauty. He is obsessed at finding and sharing the wonders that he finds in the numbers he works with. But Hardy is not willing to accept the beauty without understanding how it is found. His demand of proofs, a key part of any mathematic work, is really a reflection of his own view of reality. Hardy is an atheist because he refuses to accept what cannot be proved. They come from two different world views, yet in the language and processes of mathematics they can come to understand one another.

man infinity 2

Hardy’s atheism is not incidental to the story. It becomes the way the film is able to talk about ultimate ideas. What is impossible for Hardy to believe is essential to Ramanujan. In one sense this may reflect the way many people expect that science and religion are by their natures incompatible. But the film moves beyond that to try to show that they blend together in seeing the world through clearer eyes than either can see alone. At one point Ramanujan even claims that the source of his insights is his god. The discussions about faith and doubt don’t strive to convert, but serve to help the two men to understand each other. Hardy is not moved to leave his atheism, but he does get insight into what it means to believe something or someone. Ramanujan finds meaning in his proofs that provide even more beauty to his painting of invisible colors. There are indeed many ways to see the beauty of the world around us. Atheist, Hindus, Christians and others all appreciate that beauty however we may describe or ascribe it.

Photos courtesy of IFC Films

How It All Began: The Story of God (Ep. 4)

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Past Articles in This Series: Episode 1 | Episode 2 | Episode 3

The Creation of AdamIn the beginning . . . how did the heavens and the earth come to be?  It’s a question we’ve all invariably considered at some point in our lives. Morgan Freeman has been puzzled by creation since he was a kid attending church in his hometown of Greenwood, Mississippi.  What else is out there? If God was the architect of everything, who (or what) created him? Or was chance a major aspect of the whole thing?

The fourth episode of The Story of God with Morgan Freeman (National Geographic, Sunday at 9P/8C) brings the subject of creation to the forefront of discussion. And just like the preceding episodes, Freeman’s curiosity leads him to a worldwide search to find an answer (if one exists). He learns some interesting things along the way that are worth tuning in for.

For most people in the Western Hemisphere, creation is synonymous with Adam, Eve, and a garden in Eden. The two lived there peacefully, enjoying the place—all until the day they chose to disobey the one rule God gave them—eating of the tree of knowledge of good and evil (see Genesis 2:15-17).  Then they were thrown out by God and forced to work the land in order to survive. Freeman adds, “It’s hard to believe we all come from one man and one woman . . .  but we do.” Freeman has an intriguing discussion with researcher Jodi Magnuss where she mentions a legend about Adam and his dead bones. Supposedly, he was buried right above where Jesus was crucified.  When his blood seeped into the ground, it met the bones and Adam was resurrected. She then has a quick Hebrew lesson with Freeman involving the words adam (man), dam (blood), and adamah (land).

The episode continues with Freeman visiting Gobleki Tepe, an ancient city in Turkey, Egypt, Australia, India, and Guatemala to learn stories of how other faiths describe creation as occurring. Some involve twins and corn (Mayans). Some involve star babies and dreaming (Aborigines). Some are close to the Christian view (Islam), And others just focus on cycles of creation without getting into any details (Hindu).

The Story of God with Morgan Freeman filming in Italy.

(Photo credit: National Geographic Channels)
The Story of God with Morgan Freeman filming in Italy.

(Photo credit: National Geographic Channels)

There is a scientific look at the creation story as well—but the question of the Big Bang is proposed to some high ranking individuals in the Vatican. Monsignor Marcelo Sanchez Sorondo (seen in the picture above) tells Freeman the Big Bang is not creation because “we don’t know what was before” it happened. But the story is compatible with the normal biblical account of creation because, according to Georges Lemaître, a member of the Pontifical Academy of Science, God is outside of space and time.  Creation is an everlasting act, according to Lemaître, one of the first to propose the Big Bang Theory.  I was surprised there wasn’t a quick discussion about whether the account in Genesis 1 took six literal days or simply six equal measures of time, as I’m sure there’s a scholar out there who could provide some perspective on the subject.

It was made abundantly clear throughout the episode that, regardless of belief, there is a standard that someone bigger than us had a hand in the creation of the planet we live on and the universe we look at on a clear evening. Something had to happen – and we’re a direct result of it. It provides us with a sense of encouragement and perhaps purpose. As Gandalf wisely noted in the Lord of the Rings, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

May we make the most of it.