Page 1266 – Christianity Today (2024)

It's spring, and as sporadic rains fall on thirsty California, I am thinking about a certain biblical promise. Found in Hosea, it follows an assurance that God will heal, revive, and raise Israel up again: "He will come to us like the rain, Like the spring rain watering the earth" (NASB).

From a literary perspective, this comparison sounds just right. If God were an element, he'd be rain – soft yet torrential, the only remedy for desperate thirst and drought. But in Hosea's agricultural society, this promise was also literal. Rain was a saving grace, the invaluable resource that allowed crops to grow.

Today, rain still represents survival to rural families in the developing world. Small-scale subsistence farmers stake their lives on agriculture, relying on what they can grow to feed their families, earn an income, and send their kids to school. Armed with few resources, basic elements like water, seeds, and good soil mean the difference between hunger and health.

Yet, around the globe, millions of female subsistence farmers don't have equal access to basic resources to cultivate the land and sustain their communities. Mothers, sisters, daughters, and wives represent the backbone of the rural economy, especially in the developing world. They grow the food their families eat, cook meals, sell excess produce at market, and care for the household.

According to the UN's Food and Agriculture Organization, women make up nearly half of the rural workforce, yet receive only 5 percent of agricultural extension services, such as training and seeds. Despite their role in the rural food system, female subsistence farmers remain one of the most under-resourced demographics in the world.

This gender inequality carries desperate consequences. Lack of basic tools and training means women grow and harvest significantly lower yields than men – not because they can't farm as well, but because they don't have necessary resources. In fact, female farmers do more to increase food security in rural communities than men. Women cultivate vegetable gardens and edible crops close to home, which allows them to watch their children and cook meals. In contrast, men tend to travel further from the house to grow cash crops like tobacco, coffee, and corn – crops that do little to supplement diet.

If these women could achieve the same yields as men, studies estimate that 150 million undernourished people in the developing world would have enough to eat. This number should both shock us and move us to action, ensuring that female farmers have the tools they need to feed a hungry world.

Women farmers are food security's secret weapon. A bit of support and education for female farmers can have huge ramifications. Agustina Reyes, who partners with the organization I work for, Plant With Purpose, is living proof of this. Before, Agustina struggled to raise her five boys on a small plot of land in rural Dominican Republic. But through access to sustainable agricultural training, she was equipped to maximize food production. Agustina now manages a thriving farm and has even opened a small grocery business on the side, running the store to help support her large family.

This is what shrinking the gender gap for female farmers looks like. Resources, whether they're small as seeds or broad as economic training, equip mothers and daughters and wives to use their own God-given talents and successfully lift themselves out of poverty.

Narrowing the gender gap requires advocating for our sisters who lack representation and supporting organizations that fight to give women the resources to feed their families and communities. Faith-based organizations like Plant With Purpose, Opportunity International, and Food for the Hungry work to provide support for subsistence farmers around the world, understanding that these families who rely on the land are particularly vulnerable to disparity and injustice.

The United Nation's declaration of 2014 as the International Year of Family Farming (IYFF) is another step in the right direction. IYFF means people are paying attention to disparity in an often-overlooked demographic and learning to celebrate the family farmers – male and female – who produce much of the world's food.

We in the U.S. tend to our gardens as a form of leisure. But for subsistence farmers around the world, the food they coax from the ground is life. Gender inequality in the developing world is more than inconvenient. For women farmers, it's a hunger issue, a justice issue, and an issue we're called to address when Jesus asks us to support "the least of these."

It's spring, and as I plant my garden boxes and wait for rain to cure our west coast drought, I'm praying God will set things right for our sisters around the world. And I'm praying we will be part of that solution – dedicated to providing resources for those who bend their backs daily over the earth. For women who farm the land, God's promise to come as rain must seem especially beautiful. The grace that falls from the sky sustains them, along with simple necessities like seeds, training, and good soil. In the end, these necessities sustain each one of us.

Annelise Jolley works for Plant With Purpose, a Christian nonprofit that alleviates poverty through environmental restoration. She appreciates stories and will drop everything for a leisurely breakfast, outdoor activities, and good conversation. Find her writing at annelisej.squarespace.com and trying to keep up with the Twitterverse at @AnneliseJolley.

When I was a child, a family in our church lost their daughter in a tragic car accident weeks before her high school graduation. For years after Vicky died, my mother kept in contact with her parents, mentioning her in conversation long after our community had stopped talking about her.

On one occasion, my mother asked, "Do you ever wonder what Vicky's children would look like?" Talking about the dead in this way makes a lot of people uncomfortable. But for Vicky's parents, it was a breath of fresh air—healing air. At one point, Vicky's dad told my mother, "You are the only one who ever mentions Vicky's name. Everyone else is afraid to." He and his family were pained by losing the memory of Vicky, so speaking her name was for them a source of comfort.

Death is a cyclical reality in all communities, and often families are forced to travel the grieving journey alone. After his young son died, a close friend of mine said, "Pretty soon Isaac will fade from most people's memory. And any future children we have will never know him. Instead they will associate him with times of the year when Mom and Dad are sad—his birthday, the day he died, and Mother's and Father's Day." My friend was not only grieving the loss of Isaac; he was also grieving the loss of his memory in the community. Forgetting Isaac meant deep alienation for his family.

A year after Isaac died, another family from my circle of friends lost their little girl, Poppy, in the third trimester of pregnancy. As with Isaac's father, Poppy's parents were afraid that Poppy's memory would be lost. In a tender moment, Poppy's father said, "I am afraid to lose the pain over Poppy's death, because pain is the only connection I have to her."

His words reflect a deep truth about our Christian faith. They are words of protest against the forces of death that had extinguished Poppy's life and now threatened to take her memory as well.

Protesting Death

Nearly three decades ago, philosopher Nicholas Wolterstorff issued a protest over the death of his son, Eric, in a hiking accident. "Death is shalom's mortal enemy," wrote Wolterstorff in Lament for a Son. "Death is demonic. We cannot live at peace with death." For him there is only one response until death is finally overcome:

I shall keep the wound from healing, in recognition of our living still in the old order of things. I shall try to keep it from healing, in solidarity with those who sit beside me on humanity's mourning bench.

The families of Isaac, Poppy, and Eric will not be fully healed until the trumpet sounds, the dead are raised to life, and Death our final enemy is trampled underfoot. Only then will we shout the protester's triumph: "Where, O Death, is your victory? Where, O Death, is your sting?" (1 Cor. 15:55). Only then will memories cease to be the only tie that binds us to our loved ones. Only then will we be delivered to complete shalom—to wholeness, joy, and peace with each other.

We proclaim that our deceased loved ones who trusted Christ are in the hands of a loving Savior. This is central to biblical faith. Yet on this side of the Resurrection, memory also plays a central role in keeping hope alive. Remembering our loved ones who have died is part of our Christian understanding of hope.

I was asked to officiate at Poppy's memorial. Those gathered voiced the hopes and expectations that were bound up in her life and stolen from us. This gave way to words of grief, pain, and anger over the loss of her life. Then came for me the most difficult part of the service: commending Poppy into the hands of our loving and just Savior. (Why had I not seen before that these moments deliver the sting of death most intensely?)

In the fragility of that space, I tried not to rush family and friends through the process. Yet I knew that we could not remain in that space indefinitely. A couple clouds passed behind the tall trees on that bright sunny day, a stark contrast to the grey cloud of grief that loomed over us as we sat in silence. After a few minutes, each person was given a poppy. They were invited to bring it forward and place it on the table next to a picture of Poppy's tiny feet lying next to her parents' wedding rings. This was our symbolic act of letting go of Poppy's life and entrusting her into the hands of God.

Then we took Communion together. Never before had I noticed how fitting the ancient Christian practice is after a death. It neither leaves us without hope nor rushes us past the gruesome reality of death. Paul's words, "For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes" (1 Cor. 11:26, emphasis mine), cultivate hope by enlisting us in protest against death until it is trampled under foot (1 Cor. 15:25–26).

Mourning rituals are rare in modern Western society. Instead, death comes to us like a passing advertisem*nt displayed on a website: The news flashes and we pause for a moment before returning to our day as if nothing happened. Having spent all my life in evangelical communities, I have encountered few activities that engage churches in the process of facing death and remembering the dead.

But this has not always been the case. In a little book, For All the Saints?: Remembering the Christian Departed, New Testament scholar N. T. Wright describes the role Easter Lilies have played in a liturgical approach to remembering the dead. In the weeks leading up to Easter, churchgoers are invited to bring lilies into the sanctuary as a way to remember their loved ones with "grief, gratitude and Christian hope." As the lilies tangibly call to mind those who have died, the worship practice makes space for grief and hope to reside together, leading our longings to stretch out for the Resurrection. Practices like this usher the believing community into a healthy memory of the dead.

Longing for Victory

Every year on the anniversary of Isaac's death, I return to his grave. I do this as a way of observing what the Jews call Yahrzeit, an annual memorial of a loved one's death. When I arrive at the cemetery, I sit in my car for a few moments, then ask God to help me glorify him by remembering Isaac. At the foot of his grave I begin rehearsing the memories I have of Isaac and the joy he brought to the community. Invariably my memories run out too soon—he was only 17 months old. And so I kneel down to pull away the weeds that have crept over the headstone where his body lay. In this space, the grief over Isaac and the anger over his premature death cultivate in me an inexpressible ache. The longer I remain in this place surrounded by markers of death, the stronger the cry of "Maranatha: Come Lord Jesus!" grows. I pray that Christ would bring his resurrection life into the world soon.

Practices like these are not simply a salve for individual grief. Rather, they help us corporately align ourselves with God's battle against death, Satan, and sin. They reach into the past, embrace the memory of the dead, and rush forward in hope for a day when we are united with the historic community of faith in renewed bodies at the final resurrection. As often as we proclaim the Lord's death and sing the word "Maranatha" in church, we join with heaven's protest against death's grip on all creation and cultivate a longing for God's victory to be complete. O Death, we keep our wounds of grief from healing knowing that your defeat is sure! The scars on the body of the resurrected Jesus assure us that pain will not be the only tie that binds us to the Christian departed.

Cory B. Willson is a Ph.D. candidate at Fuller Theological Seminary and co-founding editor of Evangelical Interfaith Dialogue journal. He and his wife, Monica, serve at Grace Brethren Church of Long Beach.

In recent years, Lent has become more than an opportunity to give up chocolate, as Christians explore ways to use the 40-day period to engage social justice issues, such as hunger, clean water, and poverty.

Bridging spiritual disciplines with mercy ministry, 31-year-old Kerry Weber took up the New Testament call to tend the physical, bodily needs of people around her in New York City. She spent the months leading up to Easter doing one act of mercy a week, living out the belief that Lent wasn't just about her self-improvement, but about God's justice and love toward her community and her church.

The managing editor of the Catholic magazine America, Weber shares her Lenten project and wrestles with the practical ways to pursue justice in her new book Mercy in the City: How to Feed the Hungry, Give Drink to the Thirsty, Visit the Imprisoned, and Keep Your Day Job. She spoke with Religion News Service national correspondent Sarah Pulliam Bailey.

How did you decide to embark on your mercy project during Lent?

Setting a deadline of doing these things within a certain limit forced me to really start doing mercy. Then from there, I figured out what I felt called to continue after Lent and viewed the experiment as more of a discernment process. Lent was a good time for that kind of self-reflection, answering questions like, "Where are you in your relationship toward your community. Where are you in your relationship to God? What things do you need to do to improve both of those things?" It seemed like the perfect time to do that.

For your project, you set out to complete the "seven corporal works of mercy," which you'll have to explain to most Protestants.

You'll have to explain it to most Catholics. [laughter] They're generally attributed to the Gospel of Matthew, when Jesus says "Whenever you do one of these things for the least of my brothers, you do them unto me." The things that get listed in various versions of the Gospel are feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked, sheltering the homeless, visiting the sick, visiting the imprisoned, and burying the dead. We can write it off, like "Yeah, we'll do these," but this is not on the periphery of our faith. These acts are central to our faith, and we forget that. It's very easy to forget that because we're busy, or because it's hard to think about that we don't really want to consider what that means for our life.

In doing those acts of mercy, were there ones that were harder than others?

On the most basic level, any one where I had to get up really early was difficult. I'm not a morning person. But on the scale of suffering, that is pretty low. This is not a horrible affront to my human dignity. But it was harder than one might think to be at St. Francis' bread line at 7 a.m., falling under "feeding the hungry."

How did doing acts of mercy connect to giving something up for Lent for you?

Ideally, anything you give up for Lent connects you back to this larger picture of where you fit into the community and how your relationship with God is going. It's supposed to be a reminder, not just to inflict pain on you. So you give up food, and you feel a hunger pang, and you think of people who are truly hungry all the time, and you can say a prayer for them, and you can be—for a very brief moment, at a much smaller level—in solidarity with that. There's value in recognizing this larger human being, the world, and it's not just a self-help idea. It's not just "I'd like to lose weight during Lent."

You wrote, "Lent, in fact, advises more than a simple attempt at self-improvement." Is there a temptation to use Lent as a self-help tool?

It can be very easy to turn Lent into this personal, almost self-serving journey, if you don't connect it to the larger experience of people in the church in the world. There's always a temptation to use Lenten sacrifice to serve ourselves rather than the greater good, or rather than to serve God through these actions. There's value in self-improvement, and there's value in wanting to be healthier, but it has to be more than that.

You wrote that it was difficult to be part of a church that was sometimes unpopular. However, Pope Francis seems to be reviving its popularity in some ways. Has he changed how the church is perceived and how works of mercy are perceived?

As I was finishing the last stages of the book, Pope Francis was elected, and he almost immediately started talking about mercy, works of mercy, and how vital mercy is. His emphasis on these acts, and the centrality of these acts to our faith, has really helped to broaden people's perspective of what it means to be Christian and what we're called to do as Christians. The Catholic Church is frequently perceived as being very rule-based, and he, while not abandoning those rules, has put the person first. He has asked people to look at these rules and look at the church in light of the messiness of our lives as actual human beings who have to live out these rules and live out our faith in a real world that isn't neat and tidy and black and white.

You asked, "How does one make the works of mercy count without burning out?" Did you figure out the answer?

Experiments helped to jump-start the presence of these acts in my life. What it also taught me is that everyone needs to find something that is sustainable. It is not sustainable for me to do one act of mercy, every week, in succession, for the rest of my life. But it is possible for me to look at these through this experience and figure out where I can contribute and how to continue those as I move forward. You can be drained by not doing, in addition to being drained by overdoing. Finding somewhere between those two extremes is what I'm working on, and I haven't figured that out but I know it's what I want to try to do.

Some people might be hung up on the idea that trying to help people can actually hurt them, especially if it doesn't lead to systemic change. How do you combat that?

When we do the works of mercy as charitable acts, they are at their core about building relationships. And when we build relationships, we're less likely to also inflict harm. When we see people who are in need, and we see the basics that they need, we're inspired to work toward that systemic change. Then you can work toward that systemic change with the knowledge of what people actually experience in mind.

For example, while passing a homeless person on the street, some people I know have little cards that show where the nearest shelter is, and instead of giving them money, they give them this card. Or they give them a granola bar. It's not about working to fight this abstract injustice, it's working on behalf of actual individuals.

How have Jesus' teachings shaped the way you done works of mercy?

At the heart of these acts is working to see Jesus in the people that we meet each day, and working to realize that we're all connected through Jesus. We have to show that same love that's shown to us to the people around us, and this is one way to do that. This is one way to live out that love, and to show gratitude for the love that we received, of which we're all undeserving. It's a good reminder to reflect that love to others. Sometimes it would be a lot easier to say "that person doesn't deserve my love, or this act of mercy," but we, as undeserving sinners, are still loved entirely by Christ.

Has your approach to mercy changed since completing your project?

I'm constantly aware of mercy, and opportunities for mercy, and the call to live that out. Once you start doing it, and once you start establishing those connections and those communities, people see in you new ways and help you to live out that call to mercy. People think of you when they hear about others doing these acts, or they see other opportunities, or they see your gifts that you might have ignored, and they help you to live those out. That's the beauty of the Christian community.

Early April in Michigan, at the tail end of the harshest winter in anyone's memory, and not long ago it was 7 degrees when I awakened. My Little League team's first practice was held last week (after 3 cancellations based on low 30's and freezing rain). But today it's sunny and 50 degrees, with more of the same tomorrow, and, lo and behold, the MLB season is two weeks old! You must forgive me for only waking up slowly to this reality—the mood and the meteorology didn't quite fit, but now that they do, the season beckons, and we must respond.

On to the predictions, and this time I will summon the Muse to guide me. Amazingly, the subtleties of poetic scansion, applied to the expanded Spring Training rosters of each team, reveal a new vista of judgment, undreamed of by the sabermetrics crowd. Who needs Bill James's Baseball Abstract when I have my tattered copy of Paul Fussell's consummate text on prosody, Poetic Meter and Poetic Form?! Now I'm able to judge the poesy of each team.

Let me offer the briefest of primers on meter, then off to the AL East! Everyone has heard of the iamb (as in iambic pentameter), a poetic foot consisting of an unaccented syllable followed by one that is accented (written symbolically: U / ). The reverse of this is a foot called a trochee (/ U ). The heavier two-syllable foot is the spondee (/ / ); the unaccented two-syllable foot is the pyrrhic (U U). Some poetic feet have three syllables—the anapest (U U / ) and the dactyl (/ U U ) are the most prominent in English, but Greek and Latin verse include such iterations as the amphibrach ( U / U ) and the cretic ( / U / ), and, what the heck, why not mention the obscure molossus ( / / /)? There are even feet, in classical scansion, with four syllables, but that's enough for now—let's learn on the move.

Our first stop is Baltimore, where the Orioles are a team on the rise, not just because of the eye-popping power numbers of 1B Chris Davis, but also because of the vast metrical variations on the roster. From the strident rhythm of their manager Buck Showalter (/ / U U: a rare trochee, pyrrhic combo!) to the natural double amphibrach in pitching prospect Alfredo Aceves (U / U U / U ) to the sharp, alliterative spondee of pitcher Brad Brach ( / / ), this team shows a lyrical bent that may separate them from the pack in the talented and always-stacked AL East. Add to the mix an outfield of natural amphibrachs, led by their to-drawer free agent signee Nelson Cruz ( / U /), alongside the echoing OF's Adam Jones ( / U / ) and David Lough ( / U / ), and the sonority matches the right-handed power. But is all this enough for the divisional crown? In a word, molossus! Yes, the presence of Wei-Yin Chen ( / / /) on the pitching staff tips the scale and the O's contend into late September.

What about the World Champion Red Sox, you ask? They fade by mid-August. The best they can muster poetically is the triple trochee closer Koji Uehara ( / U / U / U ) (whose name also contains all the vowels, but hey, this isn't a phonics lesson), and the sharp, metallic spondee of Mike Carp ( / / ). I'd give a nod to the mellifluous Dustin Pedroia ( / U U / U ), but the scansion runs over by half a foot. I've suffered enough Red Sox success this past year, so I'm keeping this short and perhaps cruel.

And the Yankees, the beloved team of my youth in Upstate NY (and by coincidence, who should appear on my university's campus last fall to dedicate the new baseball stadium, but 1978 co-World Series MVP Brian Doyle), this team of massive payroll but paltry poetry-roll, looks to disappoint as well. The career has been brilliant but the scansion dull for double trochee Derek Jeter ( / U / U ), and though catcher and double amphibrach Francisco Cervelli ( U / U U / U ) offers possibilities, the pitching staff is just a little off, not in ERA or WHIP, but in allegiance to the accentual-syllabic foot: hence, Michael Pineda ( / U U / U) and CC Sabathia ( / / U / U U ) are a bit short (or long) in meter, and Ivan Nova ( U / / U ) has a forced accentuation on his first name that perhaps smudges together the alliterative possibility … you get the picture. The Yankees compete but fade late in the season (unless they call up the poetically named minor league infielder Zelous Wheeler—double trochee like the Captain, but with a fervor!—by August. Take note, Brian Cashman!

I've not forgotten Tampa and Toronto, but poetic odds are even at best up north and down south. The Rays lean on their pitching, and wisely so, but Heath Bell ( / / ) and Matt Moore ( / / ) don't stir much intrigue with their straight spondees. There is a ripple of action with the double dactyl of Jeremy Hellickson (/ U U / U U ) certainly, but the truly mellifluous hurler Braulio Lara ( / U U / U), with his doubling of alliteration and assonance, is a non-roster invitee destined for the minors. Not a good sign. Likewise, among the important position players, there are metrical fits and starts, with a tiresomely recurrent pattern for Ben Zobrist, James Loney, and Wil Myers ( / / U ). And the new closer Grant Balfour echoes this further. Tough times in Tampa.

What about north of the border, in Blue Jay land? There are some points of linguistic interest, such as a staff containing both R. A. Dickey and J. A. Happ (the latter technically a molossus!), and a few likely minor-league hurlers named Adam Loup and Deck McGuire (both natural cretics: / U / ). At the plate, there is no doubt about the power the Jays bring, with Edwin Encarnacion (emphasis on first and final syllables creates a lovely metrical pattern: / U U U U U / ) and Jose Bautista (a slightly ragged scansion of U / U / U indicates that his OPS might suffer this year), but the real place to look is to the non-roster invitee infielder Munenori Kawasaki (what? a double version of the coveted "third paeon" foot? yes, indeed: U U / U U U / U )! Call him up in April, and the team will surge. Likewise, hope may blossom if journeyman outfielder Matt Tuiasosopo ( / / U U U / U ) gets a chance to platoon in left—triple vowel assonance in a surname is worth 60 RBI's! But the season-long prognosis is middling, since the rhythmic master-stroke of Alex Andreopoulos ( / U U U / U U ), with the soaring assonance and symmetry, belongs, alas, to the team's full-time bullpen catcher. Toronto finishes a spunky but distant fifth in the race.

The AL Central looks to be set up for the Tigers to flourish, and since that's the team I listen to on the radio every day (if you want to know how baseball play-by-play is meant to be done, tune in online, wherever you are, to the Tigers broadcast to hear Dan Dickerson, the worthy successor to the late Ernie Harwell, spin a lyrical web of tension inning after inning. And his broadcast partner Jim Price, back-up catcher on the '68 Tiger champions—well, he grows on you), I already feel the surge of a team that won its first two games of the season with walk-off hits for the first time since 1901—which was the first year of existence for the Tigers and the American League. Sure, it hurts a bit that Miguel Cabrera's new contract now pays him more for each at-bat than I earn in a year—but hey, the guy just won two MVP's in a row and averages 130 RBI's a year—what have I done at the plate since getting strategically beaned against Watkins Glen High School in 1986 (take one for the team!)? The pitching staff is the strength here, but scansion reveals some problems: Max Scherzer is reigning Cy Young champ, but the meter ( / / U ) shows dissonance, as does the turning down of a long-term contract valued at around $26 million a year! The other two aces also have metrical downsides; the non-pareil Justin Verlander has that forced dactylic last name which I've always struggled with (Verlander as / U U, not U / U ), and Anibal Sanchez has the sprung rhythm in his first name (Anibal as U / U, not / U U )—it's all handled deftly by Dan Dickerson, but leaves the staff vulnerable this season. The bullpen also has question marks—Al Alburquerque's scansion is slighty off ( / / U / U ), like his magic slider was last year, and no one is feeling the rhythmic punch of the spondee when Phil co*ke ( / / ) takes the hill. Even new manager Brad Ausmus just misses a crafty assonance in his surname (yes, he's the same age as me, but other than the Dartmouth education and the 20 or so years as an MLB catcher, what does he have that I don't also bring to my Little League squad—other than the 6 weeks Ausmus spent in Florida, while we've waited for snow-melt?). The Tigers, nevertheless, should be fine and win the division—but not in a landslide unless they call up the melodious (and slick- fielding) Eugenio Suarez ( U / U U / U -with five different assonant tones!).

The White Sox struggled last year (listen to Hawk Harrelson's radio call in the final inning of the final game last season, if you need a change from reading Kafka), and a scan of their roster shows why this season will be similar. Sure, the chiastic rhythm of fireplug outfielder Dayan Viciedo ( U / U U / U ) is a strong beginning, and the batting order is still anchored by Paul Konerko ( / U / U ), with the strident alliteration matching his enduring gap power. But the rest of the line-up is full of metrical near misses: Alejandro De Aza ( U U / U U / U ) lacks a syllable of completeness (though he torments the Tigers with a cruel OBP) and the 'a' assonance is a little off-timbre, while the pitching staff offers the dullish spondees of John Danks, Scott Downs, and Nate Jones. Even the lanky lefty ace Chris Sale can only add a hint of smooth alliteration to his spondee. Perhaps Nestor Molina ( / U U / U ) can offer some hoary counsel (stretching for an Iliad joke indicates the difficulties with this roster). Seventy-five wins might mark success this year.

The Indians surprised the Central last season with their fierce showing, and I see possibilities up and down the roster this season—middle-infield/middle-of-the-order stalwart Asdrubal Cabrera ( U / U U / U ) anchors everything, in prosody as in play, and pitcher Carlos Carrasco brings a triple-alliteration and double-assonance—but does he have an off-speed pitch?! There can be no doubt that of the value to this staff of C.C. Lee ( / / / )—a molossus on the mound! And though Justin Masterson ( / U / U U ) provides little metrical punch, he at least has all five short vowel sounds punctuating his name—as crisp and clipped as a cut fastball. And then there's Marc Rzepczynski—the consonantal juggernaut, Sir Scrabble-buster, coming out of the bullpen. This is a team that will compete late into September, especially if such trochaic types as Jason Kipnis and Michael Brantley ( / U / U) listen to the sage advice of their positive Homeric hitting coach, Ty "my last name is an ionic a majore" Van Burkleo ( / / U U )!

We have all suspected that thin times have come to the Twin Cities since the team abandoned the hideous but magical Metrodome for their beautiful but ill-starred new ball park. A glance at the roster's poetic patterns suggests that the dry spell will continue. The infield shows promise: Eduardo Escobar ( U / U / U /—okay, I forced the final stress a bit—an inexact science is in play!), Pedro Florimon ( / U / U /—here, the final stress is built into the pronunciation), and the mellifluous Trevor Plouffe ( / U /—here, an ineffable extension of the final syllable is invited) all offer pattern and promise. Even more pleasing is the pacing of OF Oswaldo Arcia ( U / U / U U—linger a bit on that 'ar' blend). But the pitching is slender, as embodied in the fact that the big off-season signing here is the bland spondee (and rather bland fastball) of Phil Hughes ( / / ). Message to the Twins: forsake all beauty and return to the Metrodome by mid-summer!

Kansas City has risen from the ashes of futility and looks good enough to contend—at least on paper. Let me clarify that: on paper that doesn't include the breves and grave accents of scansion. There are some compelling names in the infield, with Mediterranean strains of Johnny Giavotella, Mike Moustakas, and Danny Valencia—ah, that the Germanic tongues would value vowels that highly! For meter, the skipper Ned Yost ( / / ) offers a no-nonsense spondee, matched by ageless soft-tossing lefty Bruce Chen, whose straightforward name is in direct contradiction to his change-up-off-a-change-up shrewd 75 mph fadeaways. KC has better pitchers, certainly, but no names sing out. The saving throw for their pennant chances, thus, will come out of right-field, where the newly acquired speed and glove man Norichika Aoki ( U U / U U / U—and yes, that is a third paeon/amphibrach combination flying down the first-base line!). The Royals will take another step towards relevance this summer.

The AL West is somewhat out of my territory, so I looked at these rosters with a bit more demanding eye, for a sort of immediate metrical gratification. The Astros are unequivocally the worst team in baseball, but only by a syllable, I believe! Any team with two molossus players would seem to demand pennant consideration, and when I saw OF L.J. Hoes ( / / / ), hope sprang up. Only a freakish coincidence could thrust Houston into September relevance, and a glance at the extended spring pitching ranks showed the presence of Chia-Jen Lo ( / u / /—I include a small 'u' to stress how close this young, micro-payroll team came to winning the West this year!). As it now stands, only the quick metrical run of bullpen catcher Javier Bracamonte ( / U U U U / U – almost a beautiful parallelism, almost) assures the team of 65 wins.

What about the Angels (are they really officially called the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim!?)? The presence of Buddy Boshers on the pitching staff (albeit inactive) is hard to ignore, with the alliterative punch to back the double trochee, and, though his meter is a tad off, Dane De La Rosa ( / U U / U ) likewise catches the ear. Massive salaried sluggers Albert Pujols ( / U / U ) and Josh Hamilton (/ / U U) have some balance to their names, but nothing spectacular, which may prove prophetic for their struggles to sustain MVP-level power. In the outfield, Collin Cowgill sports the double trochee, but it's the brilliant double alliteration/double assonance that makes him a key figure, if he gets any playing time on the big club. J.B. Shuck ( / / / ) represents the crucial molossus, but it's the rock solid, no-nonsense spondee of Mike Trout ( / / ) that holds the key. The Angels rebound this season and challenge for the Western crown.

The A's have been dangerous underdogs the last few years, perhaps vindicating forevermore Billy Beane's "Moneyball" ways and means with their persistent small-market, low-payroll success. Can they sustain this for another year? From a metrical vantage point, the honeymoon may be over. No name on the pitching staff commands particular rhythmic attention—though Sonny Gray ( / U / ) offers a cretic foot, and a hint at the sonorous pre-WWII player names. On the infield, Alberto Callaspo ( U / U U / U ) provides the lilt of the double amphibrach, but Yoenis Cespedes ( U / U / U U ) just misses that sense of balance (though he rarely missed the offerings of the Tigers pitchers in the post-season last year!), so one is thrown back upon the rather slender qualifications of the two archetypal alliteratives on the team: C John Jaso and CF Coco Crisp. I see problems by August, unless of course Eric O'Flaherty ( / U U / U U—a double dactyl, pronounced with a bit of a brogue) comes off the 60-day disabled list ready to contribute. Let's take the rainout at the Coliseum in the first week of the season (the first in Oakland in 16 years!) as a portent.

With the Rangers, I didn't need to look further than their three catchers in camp this spring to see a strong potentiality: J. P. Arencibia ( / / U U / U U) provides a wonderfully chiastic surname as well as a lively bat, and Geovany Soto ( U U / U / U – with an assonance in both first and last names!) and Robinson Chirinos ( / U U / U U—welcome, double dactyl, and probably seasoning at Double-A) are intriguing as well. On the infield, Elvis Andrus ( / U / U ) sounds as smooth with the 's' endings as Jurickson Profar ( / U U / U ) sounds choppy with its harsh consonantal combinations—but both names and both players are interesting, though not always in a good way. Among the pitchers, Alexei Ogando ( U / U U / U) sweetens the double amphibrach with a bookend assonance on his last name—but his is one the few names on the staff that jump out. Were it not for Kevin Kouzmanoff's touch of alliteration, and the anchoring molossus of Shin-Soo Choo ( / / /—don't miss the alliteration, and the wonderful 'oo' assonance—this player brings it all!), things could get ugly in Arlington. Not even the addition of Prince Fielder's big lumber can stem the tide—I see the Rangers in trouble, maybe even a bit of turmoil, by Labor Day.

And suddenly my AL West cards are on the table—the Seattle Mariners will batter this division into submission! Sure, they've added the charmed bat of Robinson Cano ( / U U U /—a pattern as lovely as his left-handed cut with men on base!), but the real strength of this team emerges in pitchers Hisashi Iwakuma ( U / U U U / U—a pleasing pattern) and Bobby LaFromboise (if I'm superimposing a Gallic pronunciation, please bear with me, but I hear that surname as an overwrought declarative / / / !). What about catching prospect Jesus Sucre ( U / / U ), with that sonorous meter and the beautifully echoed syllable? And the sprung rhythm (forgive me, Hopkins, if I offend thee!) of Hector Noesi ( / U U U /—accentuation provided by the media guide, perhaps written by some intern/poetaster), combined with the Renaissance Humanist gloss of Erasmo Ramirez ( U / U U / U ), give the pitching staff depth. Likewise the '80's pop music echo with Corey Hart ( / U / ) and utterly mellifluous Xavier Avery (rhyme, assonance, alliteration, and the brilliant dactyls / U U / U U ) give Seattle traction into October!

The National League has always been on my periphery, and this forecast is already rambling (or some verbal well beyond that!), so I'll let things get a bit more impressionistic as I head to the senior circuit. "Out East," as they say in the Midwest, things are jumbled. The Braves look strong in almost every sphere, but with unexpected names leading the sonorous charge. Among the pitchers, Brandon Beachy offers the crucial alliteration, but Juan Jaime drifts a bit in the indigenous pronunciation. Wirfin Obispo is a study in phonetic contrasts from first name to last, but Julio Teheran ( / U U U U / ) spices this parabolic rhythm with a hint of political intrigue (kindred soul to Jello Biafra, perhaps?). Ultimately, the key pitching name is toiling at Triple-A Richmond, and he deserves a call-up: Atahualpa Severino (almost a double third paeon?! If I fudge the 'ua' diphthong a bit, tada! U U / U U U / U ). Among the position players, not much is of interest metrically, though Dan Uggla ( / / U) has perhaps the most aggressive single syllable in the league with his 'Ugg,' and the Upton brothers rhyme with each other in the outfield. In the end, the interests drift toward the literary, as IF Tyler Pastornicky and OF Joey Terdoslavich sound like they stepped out of a Gogol story. The Braves compete based on variety.

Spoiler alert: the Marlins are in first place as I write this—but will they endure there? Yes, but the key young pitcher is actually Arquimedes Caminero (the classical name matches the arcane meter, the elusive double third paeon U U / U U U / U ). Alongside the curt eloquence of Brad Hand ( / / ), the wide span of this staff becomes clear. And if Jarrod Saltalamacchia is catching regularly with his double dactyl surname, the staff ERA might be under 3.00! The team's bona-fide power hitter Giancarlo Stanton ( U U / U / U ) has a quirky pattern, but a nice pacing, and yet, it's the prospect of seeing Adeiny Hechavarria ( U / U U U / U U ) alongside Greg Dobbs ( / / ) on the infield. Miami matches Atlanta is variety, and in the Win column.

Ah, the Mets, the beloved team of my Long Island in-laws. (Have I spoken in years past about my wife's still unsent love letter to Ron Darling from the magical 1986 season? I still can't hear Darling's voice on the Fox post-season broadcasts without a rush of jealousy.) If they can put together the pitching spectrum of Vic Black's spondee ( / / ), Dillon Gee's cretic ( / U / ), and the revivified if erratic Daisuke Matsuzaka ( / U U U U / U ), then the Metropolitans show life through the dog days, especially with the sonorous possibilities of Travis d'Arnaud and Taylor Teagarden splitting time behind the plate. The infield has corner power from Ike Davis and David Wright, but the poetic cog there could be Josh Satin (with a smooth semi-alliteration). In the outfield, lots of strident scansion, but the key to my eye as a resident of West Michigan is the presence of two Dutch names: Matt den Dekker ( / / / U ) and Kirk Nieuwenhuis ( / / U / )—will the 350th anniversary (I'm guessing at that, but hey, I'm a homeschooling dad so I've done colonial history four times!) of the fall of New Amsterdam to the British result in a New York baseball resurgence?

The Phillies have potential, with a pitching staff that can mix and match the frank spondee of Cliff Lee ( / / ) with the double dactyl of Jonathan Pettibone ( / U U / U U ), and toss in the best natural amphibrach in the league with the surname of Antonio Bastardo! The rest of the roster is sketchy; they have names with residual creds in non-roster invitees Tony Gwynn, Jr. and John Mayberry, Jr. (but the Jr.'s mess up the meter), and the infield is full of names straight out of a P. G. Wodehouse novel, with Cody Asche, Freddy Galvis, and the venerable Chase Utley. But I don't see enough metrical variation to warrant 80 wins.

What about Washington—no, not the beleaguered and seemingly less and less relevant partisan bastions with the Beltway, but the Nationals. Things look solid, but a little bland, like skipper Matt Williams career with the Giants and his scansion ( / / U ). Not bad, but that same pattern is shared by half the team, it seems: Bryce Harper, Scott Hairston, Drew Storen, Craig Stammen, even former Tiger hurler Doug Fister. Ace Stephen Strasburg ( / U / U ) at least brings double trochees, but they seem, for lack of a better analogy, awfully hittable! The Zimmerman(n) boys, P Jordan (double 'n') and 3B Ryan (single 'n') at least have a dactylic surname, but this is a stretch. This team will struggle with mediocrity, unless an amphibrachic call-up arrives.

The NL Central has been Cardinal country for a while, but I sense a sea-change. St. Louis always seems to overachieve in the stretch run, so I can't write them off completely, but there is a sharp lack of metrical variation on the pitching staff, and in terms of the ear attuned to literary resonances, a set of names like Keith Butler, Lance Lynn (granted, a nice spondee), Shelby Miller, and Randy Choate seem to more akin to the headliners at a Country Western festival. Granted, the infield is full of consonantal punch, with Aledmys Diaz, Pete Kozma, and Kolten Wong (though only Daniel Descalso brings the alliterative with metrical punch: / U U / U ). Now, if Xavier Scruggs gets the call-up and sticks with the big club, you have a phonetic juggernaut evolving. But Jon Jay is a minimalist denouement in the outfield, a sort of Art Nouveau gesture to go alongside Man Ray … but I digress. The Cardinals run into trouble after the All Star Break and scratch towards the Wild Card(s).

The Reds have been competitive of late, with strong pitching and a frisky batting order anchored by double trochee stalwarts Joey Votto and Brandon Phillips. A bit more swagger is added, at least metrically, by Jack Hanahan ( / / U / ) and Skip Schumaker (of matching rhythm) across the infield, and if Juan Duran (yes, if only he'd double the surname! ) gets called-up to the outfield, all may be well. But the pitching staff is a bit more shaky this time around, not only because of the tragic head-shot that Aroldis Chapman took this spring from a batted ball, but also because, other than the pedestrian spondee from Mike Leake, the most interesting prospect is Sam LeCure, whose name connotes perhaps a noir novel or punk rock frontman. Trouble in Cincy, and I think not even the addition of blue-blooded outfield prospect Jason Bourgeois ( / U U /—I'm pronouncing in the Marxian fashion) at mid-summer can solve the problem.

The Brewers in the National League—it still takes a minute to sink in, as I hear the radio call of my boyhood, Phil Rizzuto and Bill White doing the Yankee games, speaking of the feared Pete Vukovich (/ / U U, or would it be / / U /?) on the mound for the Brew Crew, or that particular Yankee-killer, Moose Haas ( / /—a spondee with double double vowels, and that 's' alliteration—no wonder he owned Graig Nettles!). The 2014 version has some metrical character, to be sure, with a pitching staff ranging from the lilting Tom Gorzelanny ( / U U / U ) and his metrical double Wily Peralta, to the strident power of Johnny Hellweg ( / U / U ) and Wei-Chung Wang ( / / /, the molossus adding 3 mph to the heater). And who would not be intimidated to face hurlers with surnames like those of Michael Blazek and Mike Fiers. But alas, the everyday players on the roster don't sustain this intrigue—Ryan Braun ( / U / ) is a rather ho-hum cretic, a foot that Rickie Weeks ennobles only slightly more. Maybe a call-up of catching prospect, and legitimate triple trochee Adam Weisenberger ( / U / U / U ) can push this team into contention, but the summer looks long for the men in mustard and powder blue (am I thinking the 1982 throwback unis?).

The Pirates are finally good again, and one would have to be hard-hearted not to root for them a bit these days after the 20 years of darkness. But as I scanned their roster to see if sustained greatness is in the offing, the prognosis was uncertain. There must be something to a pitching staff boasting such phonetic models as Vin Mazzaro ( / U / U ) and Wandy Rodriguez ( / U U / U—okay, maybe I just like the throwback sense of 'Wandy'—does anyone here Gabby Harnett echoing forth? Or a hint of the great Negro Leaguer Judy Johnson?). But I can't quite get the rhythm of Stolmy Pimentel (sounds like a James Bond character) or Joely Rodriguez, and so I wonder. On the other side of the clubhouse, among the position players, there's also a bit of phonetic fog—Neil Walker is a crucial power source for the team, but the name 'Neil' is one of those syllable-and-a-half confounders. Likewise, perennial All-Star Andrew McCutcheon has such a pithy nickname in Cutch, that the possibility of scanning his whole given name evenly is flung out the window. 'Picky, picky,' you may say to me, but are you reassured by the flat spondee of Clint Barmes at 3B? The outfield is enhanced by the sonorous presence of Starling Marte ( / U / U ), but only allusively so. A lot hinges, thus, on the coaching staff under Clint Hurdle (himself a tongue-fumbling bit to pronounce), and here the Pirates find their hope, as many teams have, in their bullpen catcher, the doubly amphibrachic Herberto Andrade ( U / U U / U ). Double or nothing with the bullpen, not just because the Pirates have arguably the best group of relievers in the majors, but because Andrade is joined in his 'exile' by bullpen coach Euclides Rojas ( U / U / U ), whose name wins the I.Q. award and helps the Pirates pitch their way towards October.

But the Cubs remain, always the bridesmaid (or perhaps the wayward uncle who gets invited only by a late and guilty phone call, and who arrives late and tipsy to the wedding ceremony). And when the two catchers on the roster are the consonantally rich Welington Castillo ( / U U U / U ) and George Kottaras ( / U / U— a name that sounds worthy to block the plate, if that were still allowed), something might be brewing at Wrigley. The infield is anchored by the gifted SS Starlin Castro, with his double trochee and triple alliteration, but the real intrigue occurs in contrast between the tight spondee of Mike Olt ( / / ) and the sprawling paeons of prospect Arismendy Alcantara ( U U / U U U / U—a name worthy of a roster spot, a signing bonus, and even a raucous set of devotees among the Bleacher Bums. What about the pitching? Well, the intimidation factor could and should be there, if either Justin Grimm or Pedro Strop stick with the squad, with their heavily accented and ominously allusive surnames. But the literal and alliterative key to Chicago's season is the erstwhile Notre Dame wideout and talented young gun Jeff Samardzija ( / U / U—a common enough scansion, but a priceless final syllable with 'dzija'—maybe worth 18 wins?!). If the front office has any Theo Epstein (sonorous vowels) magic left in the bottle, I believe the promotion of OF prospect Matthew Szczur to the big club is the key to unlocking Samardzija's potential—and one either grins or shudders to think of the pronunciation adventures if Harry Carey were still in the booth. It all adds up to a surprisingly competitive Cubs team playing within the ivy this summer, and maybe this fall.

Go west, young fans, though this has always been a hard psychic journey for me. The NL West is the 'distant country' to my imagination, so I feel like Keats with his Chapman's Iliad, glancing at these rosters like new planets swimming into my ken. The D'Backs have jet-lag and are 1-7 as of this writing, having gone 'Down Under' with the Dodgers to officially open the season a few weeks back. They've not yet recovered, and the first managerial hot-seat of the year already belongs to Kirk Gibson. But I think Gibby's battlers will be back—what else could one believe when Tuffy Gosewich ( / U / U /—a meter and a name worthy of a John McGraw team!) is behind the plate catching the likes of J. J. Putz ( / / /—a molossus to shut down righties and lefties in the late innings) and Bo Schultz ( / /—again, an echo of the days when the Philadelphia A's reigned). Toss in the forthright power numbers of Paul Goldschmidt and Mark Trumbo ( with their matching and blunt / / U ) and the medieval vigor of Didi Gregorius ( / / U / U U—three 'i's' giving the long 'e' sound!), and Arizona reappears in September in the hunt for the trail-end wildcard.

Will the Rockies rise again to mile-high prominence? A good start is in the skipper's office, as the immediacy of the alliterative, spondaic punch that Walt Weiss brings (backed on his coaching staff by fellow spondees Jim Wright and Stu Cole) keeps this team hustling and scratching. How could a team lead by uber-shortstop Troy Tulowitzki ( / u / U / U—'Troy' is one of those elusive syllables, but the scansion only tells half the story) and his alliterative balance possibly finish in last place? That's seems a foolish thought, if one adds in the ageless LaTroy Hawkins ( U / / U) and the regally named Christian Friedrich ( / U / U—these are Hapsburg trochees, sir!) on the pitching staff. And what about hurler Jhoulys Chacin (not sure I can scan this name—indicative of a disappearing slider?)? Colorado will win 50 games in its thin-aired den, but struggle on the road and finish around .500.

The Padres have an improved roster, in baseball terms, with newcomer Joaquin Benoit ( almost scans as 4 equal stresses, and produces 2 'w' sounds with no 'w'—all very fascinating, but don't mention the name David Ortiz or the word 'grand slam' to him!) and solid starters in Josh Johnson and Ian Kennedy, but the only metrical twist on the staff is the flat spondee of Burch Smith. The position players offer something more, and here the 'Y's have it'—as in Yasmani Grandal catching ( U / U U /—nice pause and pacing with the 'a' sounds), Yonder Alonso ( / U U / U—great short 'o' pairing) on the infield, and long-shot, don't-leave-him-in-Triple-A Yeison Ascencio on the ascent among the stable of outfielders. Former Tiger farmhand Cameron Maybin ( / U U / U) provides further lyrical punch in center, but Seth Smith is something of a plodding addition out there with his thick spondee. But his new skipper Bud Black suffers a similar metrical malady. I say the Padres fade early but play spoilers late.

Can the Giants maintain their recent trajectory into the upper-echelons of baseball success? Well, it's hard to stay on top of the mountain, ye Candlestickers! The pitching is not bad, though Matt Cain's spondee has been diminished in rhetorical strength so far this young season. But Madison Bumgarner ( / U U / U U—the coveted double dactyl ) is joined by the lyrical trio of Jean Machi ( / U / ), Yusmeiro Petit ( U / U U / ), and, of course, Sergio Romo ( / U U / U ). Indeed, the infield has a particularly alliterative charm, if one attends the ear to Brandon Belt, Pablo Sandoval ( the 'l' echo is weak, but the Panda also has the long 'o' working), and Marco Scutaro (multiple shades of sound play). But I think prospect Ehire Adrianza ( U / U U U / U ) and his brilliant scanned pattern must contribute by mid-season. Likewise, no outfield manned by Angel Pagan ( sprung rhythm creates / U U / pattern) should underachieve—so I put the Giants in the hunt.

That leaves the Dodgers, last in my long exercise in obscurantist anticipation, but first in the news as this season begins. Certainly, Clayton Kershaw's astronomical contract (and ominously immediate trip to the DL—a curse on that Australia trip!) and Yasiel Puig's benching for juvenile behavior (but not for his wonderful / U U / rhythm, nor, one hopes, for his joie de vivre in the uptight world of baseball's 'codes') have been big stories, but this all masks a rather thin metrical presence, which is why skipper Don Mattingly almost lost his job last year (and each year I mention my fealty to Donnie Baseball, my model for all things baseball while I was in high school in Yankees country—but why in the Dodger blue now, Sensai, and why mustache-less?!). Sure, Andre Ethier ( / U / U U ) offers a subtle vowel play, and starter Hyun-Jin Ryu ( / / / ) brings that coveted triple stress, but slugger Adrian Gonzalez ( / U U U / U ) is just a bit off rhythmically, and Matt Kemp's spondaic star is dulled by nagging injury. So, my advice is simple—activate Erisbel Arruebarrena (one could go on the DL just trying to scan this name! My guess is a reckless light run of U / U U U U U / U ) and ride that scintillating, Yeatsian touch (cf. "as twere an apparition" U U U U U / U from "The Living Beauty") to the divisional crown and beyond!

To the postseason, after a survey that has felt as long as an August with no off days! The AL shakes down as follows: Baltimore runs away and hides in the East, though Boston, NYY, and Tampa keep the wildcard conversation interesting. Yet, only the Yankees make it in, as the noble (though increasingly stoical—that's what 40 does to you!) Jeter puts together 10 hits in the final week, to slide into #6 on the all-time hits list—and everyone above him is firmly in Valhalla. In the Central, the Tigers try to hide a vulnerable bullpen all summer (again!) and feel the Indians chugging along behind them in September, but the Royals rough up Cleveland at season's end, the Tigers sweep Minnesota and Chicago to finish, and it's Detroit with the crown and KC with a (gulp!) postseason berth at last! Come forth, ye shades of George Brett and Darryl Motley! Out west, Seattle rides the wave of enthusiasm evoked by the Seahawks, and the Mariners push 100 wins with ease, as an ugly dogfight in the second-level of the division finds the Angels gnawing on the Rangers. The teams will both lay dormant beneath bloated payrolls, and October will forsake them. So, a one-game wildcard tilt in Kansas City sees the Yankees fall to their nemesis from my childhood days, and so the Tigers get the Orioles and the Royals head to Seattle, and the AL Central fares poorly—the Orioles get into the Tigers bullpen consistently, and even a healthy Miguel Cabrera can't save the ship. Likewise, KC gets chewed up by Seattle's starters, as Felix Hernandez finally gets to show his stuff in primetime, and Danny Farquhar emerges like his namesake, the ghostly protagonist of "An Incident at Owl Creek Bridge," spectral and unhittable. The Mariners and the Orioles tilt for the AL Crown in a trans-continental matchup on late '90's power-brokers.

Let's pause there, and scout out the NL scene in early October. The East Division will find the Braves and Marlins tied as the season closes, and hence a one-game playoff, with everything at stake (no wildcard back-up plan will be available). Jose Fernandez ( U / U / U ) pits Miami's mellifluous youth against Ervin Santana's ( / U U / U ) veteran wiles, and age prevails (I say it with a sigh). The Braves are once again in business! In the Central, the Cubs and Pirates battle like it's 1972, and though the Pirates prevail, the Cubs sneak into wildcard-land, where they meet the once-dead Diamondbacks, revivified by the clean desert air and sign-stealing prowess of third-base coach Glenn Sherlock (did I mention my own desperate linguistic stretch run?!). Though the Dodgers cake-walk to the divisional title out west, Kershaw's back gets sore again, and anxiety hovers over Chavez Ravine. Then, a series of lightning bolts comparable to Wilfred Owen's WWI prosodic blasts ("The stained-stones kissed by the English dead" offers the overwhelming U / / / U U / U / ) strike across the National League landscape. The Cubs beat the D-Backs in Arizona, fly to LA and sweep the Dodgers. Meanwhile, the Pirates finally unleash their 20 years of vengeful brooding against Atlanta (those '91 and '92 NLCS shamings cut deep—Sid Bream's dash to immortality?!), pounding the Braves mercilessly in the divisional round, and returning home to host the red-hot Cubs.

At this point, with the League Championship Series games stirring in Pittsburgh and in Seattle, with the miracle Cubs and the hungry Orioles ready to challenge for hegemony, a final glance into the dark corners of each team's roster is needed, and as you may have guessed, a casual scansion of each team's first base coach will decide the two pennants. First, the Orioles offer up Wayne Kirby ( / / U ), a solid, not-so-dynamic presence (as a first base coach should be), but Seattle has the edge with Andy Van Slyke ( / U / /—the final two stresses separated by the slightest pause, a significant subtlety—plus Van Slyke was born in Utica, NY, hometown of '91 World Series immortal Mark Lemke, and, coincidentally, my older brother and his wife and 6 baseball-crazed kids). The Mariners, at long last, are heading to the World Series, taking the ALCS easily in 5 games. In the NL, the Pirates trot out Rick Sofield (again / / U, approximately) to the coaches' box, while the Cubs have, drumroll please … Eric Hinske ( / U / U—with a bit more sound play in the 'c/k' echo). So I should argue for a Cubs victory, but I cannot—the Pirates take the series in 7 games, as Hinske is struck by a foul ball and the default to third base coach Gary Jones creates a poetic void. Wait until next year, Cub fans—or install Matt Szczur as your first-base coach straight out of Double-A ball!

This World Series is suddenly and unexpectedly about Lloyd McClendon ( /—a long single syllable, full of character—U / U ), recently released as Tigers batting coach, but once the skipper of the Pirates and now leading the Mariners against his old team. Strong pitching on both sides. Superb old-school players like Robinson Cano and Andrew McCutcheon matched up. Great sports cities—didn't the Seahawks and Steelers just mix it up in the Super Bowl a few years back? The rosters have already been squeezed dry of poetic invention and linguistic frippery—what's left to judge? An unexpected pitching match-up between Seattle's Lucas Luetge and Pittsburgh's Duke Welker (weigh the relative alliteration and assonance, and it's an even heat)? How about special assistants, that vague title given in baseball to a trouble-shooting coach/advisor/sometime-player deserving of a job? Here perhaps is the final grain that will tip the scale. The Mariners bring the classic special assistant, former middle-of-the-order-in-the-mediocre-days 1B Alvin Davis ( / U / U—strong sound-play underlying a seemingly simple name) against the Pirates' Frank Kemblas ( / / U—the doubling of the 'k' sound leads to a quiet finale). Dead heat. One option is left—the past beckons, and I hear the double amphibrach roaring around second base, and coming up firing from deep right field. Yes, Roberto Clemente (an absolute and deliberate U / U U / U) challenges anything the Mariners can summon from their 37 year history—Ken Griffey, Jr. ( / / U / U ) was thrilling, but defected and ended badly. Bret Boone gave a window of thrills as brief as his spondaic burst. What does Danny Ainge ( / U / )bring to the game—mere flirtation. I think it's over, decided, the long drought since 1979's "We are Family" and the sharp poetry of Kent Tekulve ( / U / U )—the Pirates are World Champions in a 6 game rough-up of the Mariners. Clint Hurdle has leaped his final one to achieve eternal renown. Jose Tabata ( U / / U U ) brings his sprung rhythm and sonorous soft 'a' sounds to the plate and drives home Brent Morel in the bottom of the ninth at PNC Park, and the moral of the story is: never give up on a franchise, nor the possibility of prosody.

Michael R. Stevens is professor of English at Cornerstone University in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Copyright © 2014 Books & Culture. Click for reprint information.

2006 was a difficult year for our church. We’d been beyond capacity in our current facility for years, which meant we’d had to worship in four, five, or even six worship services—which strained both staff and congregation. Further, with our church situated in a residential neighborhood, we didn’t have enough parking spaces. Too frequently, visitors would drive into our parking lot, see nowhere to park, and turn around and leave.

We had long dreamed of expanding our current facility, with a large sanctuary and increased parking, so that we could worship altogether as a church family and have more room to be welcoming. But our neighbors were horrified at our expansion plans. Then, the budget for the plan came back at an overwhelming number. And on top of this, there were some tough staff transitions.

So, in 2006, we had to scrap our dream. But out of this, the Lord gave us a new vision and an exciting opportunity. What if we went multi-site? When we looked at the geographic make-up of our church, we realized we were a regional church, not a local one. Further, being at capacity in our current building meant it was easy to not be evangelistic because the church was already full!

But multi-site would challenge us to be more of a local church and to be more evangelistic. We would have campuses with empty seats all over our area. Our people would no longer be saying, “Would you come to church with me 30 minutes away?” Instead, they would be able to say, “My church is right nearby … “

Everything was making sense, except for one thing: preaching.

Our senior pastor is beloved by our congregation. So while we were excited to become a multi-site church, no one wanted to “lose” him as the preacher at their campus. Yet going all-video all-the-time didn’t seem to align with our theological understanding of preaching. On top of this, our senior pastor is beloved, in part, because he is the opposite of a celebrity preacher—a humble, faithful servant. We didn’t want to create a celebrity culture with video preaching, yet we didn’t want to “lose” him at each campus either.

Video in transition

One of the things I’ve come to love about congregational governance is that it often forces the staff and elders to find middle ground or unique ways of doing things, rather than simply taking an “either-or” approach. And that’s what happened with our preaching.

As we prayed and sought the Lord’s wisdom and listened to the congregation we realized that we didn’t have to take an “either-or” approach to preaching. We didn’t have to choose between live preaching all the time at every campus or live preaching at one campus with video everywhere else. We could do some of both.

Our senior pastor realized he didn’t have unlimited years to give to our church, and so he was already thinking of the next generation of preachers. “What happens when I’m gone? What if something happens to me?” he asked. A back injury he suffered during this time, which temporarily put him out of the pulpit, forced us to take these questions far more seriously than we might have otherwise.

So, after much prayer and discussion, we decided to use video in transition. Rather than making video the long-term solution for our campuses, we saw video as a way to make the transition we needed to make.

First steps

When we took our baby steps into multi-site in 2008, we had two campuses, and the new one had video almost exclusively. This was great for those early days because it was a lot of work just getting this new campus off the ground. They moved from worshiping in an established church with its own well-developed facility to worshiping in a high school. They were stretching themselves both in the amount of time they were giving to help start this new campus and also in the new evangelistic emphasis to which we were calling them. So, in the midst of this time of being stretched, they loved having the preaching of their senior pastor every week—even though it was on video.

Then, in 2010, we took on our third campus—a church in our denomination had dwindled to 18 members and they voted to become a campus. For this weary church, they loved having an experienced, biblical preacher on video every single week. This freed up the new campus pastor—along with key lay leaders—to focus on evangelism and the recovery process needed after dwindling to 18 members.

The same story is playing out right now with a fourth campus that just came on board in 2013 (this one was down to 25 members). But in this case, one of the first questions we discussed is whether they should have video of our senior pastor at all—or if they should start with all live preaching. But together we decided to start with video to free up the campus pastor and lay leaders for evangelism and recovering from their church trauma.

Where we are today

Like we hoped and planned back in 2006, video preaching is being used for transition—not as a long-term solution. And we’re fining this transition is happening more quickly than we expected.

Our senior pastor still preaches 38-40 weekends per year. But those weekends get divvied up uniquely. Our two oldest campuses have live preaching 38-40 times a year—the senior pastor is live 16-20 times and the campus pastor preaches 16-20 times. The other 12-16 times, the senior pastor preaches via video. Sometimes, he’ll preach a long series where he rotates each week where he’s live. Other times, he preaches four weeks in a row at one campus (while campus pastors are preaching at the other campuses), and then he’ll go to another campus with the same series for another four week run.

Our two newer campuses have our senior pastor’s preaching via video 30+ times a year while campus pastors preach 16-20 times.

As you might imagine our preaching planning calendar is a maze. But navigating this maze is worth it. Our congregation still consistently hears from our senior pastor live and via video, while increasingly hearing from their respective campus pastors. It may seem confusing, but I can truly say that our congregation loves it. Even newcomers who are skeptical of video tend to be pleasantly surprised by the amount of live preaching.

None of us knows if or when we’ll have live preaching fully at all four of our campuses. Nor are we sure that each new campus will utilize video preaching from the get-go. We hold that decision loosely, and we assess each year where we’re at and where we should be the following year. But we have a congregation that is experiencing a mix of video and live preaching, and has proven adaptable to how the Lord leads. We continue to discern the plan with the feedback and insight of the congregation.

Lessons from our transition

The transition has not been perfect. We have had many missteps along the way. So here are a few things we’ve learned in using video in transition.

Utilize younger preachers.This has been vital. When you have a beloved senior pastor, the congregation isn’t naturally excited for the Sundays that he’s out of the pulpit. Even in a gospel-centered church, people still want to hear from their senior pastor.

Our senior pastor’s passion for developing young pastors soared to new heights at the same time we were moving towards multi-site ministry. This proved to be providential. I think many Christians in America are worried about the “next generation” of the church—and our congregation was no exception. So when they saw these young men in the pulpit, knowing they were being mentored by our senior pastor and key lay leaders, they rejoiced.

When a young preacher was preaching at one of the campuses, it became a point of celebration for our congregation. The next generation was developing and the congregation was a part of it. Now the congregation is more receptive to young pastors preaching than to bringing in a “ringer” from the outside. They’d rather hear a sermon with rough edges from a developing young pastor who is part of our church family than to hear something polished from a veteran who doesn’t attend our church. When our senior pastor is out of the pulpit there are now four pulpits for campus pastors, youth pastors, and pastoral interns to fill—not just one.

Let campus pastors preach.Part of the reason our transition has worked so well is because we are now hiring campus pastors who want to preach. When the congregation is experiencing pastoral care from their campus pastor week-in-week out, when he knows them, and they know him, the congregation really comes to value the days the campus pastor preaches.

Further, the campus pastor’s preaching helps him lead the campus more effectively. So, the senior pastor’s preaching (live or via video) at each campus keeps us tied together, but the campus pastor’s preaching gives him strength to lead each campus well with their unique needs, geographies, and sizes.

Generational surprises

There have been two real surprises in the midst of all this transition:

First, the older members of our congregation have been much more open to video than we thought. The learning curve might be the hardest for them, but they come to love the big clear face on the screen—they can now see the pastor’s facial expressions and all his non-verbal communication more clearly. The ability to read lips also helps the hard-of-hearing of any age.

Second, the younger members of our congregation are the ones who are often pushing for live preaching the most. The learning curve with video preaching for them is often easier, but they tire of it more quickly.

This is part of the reason we’re in transition. We expect that as this younger generation takes more leadership in the church—as staff and elders and as they’re increasingly involved in congregational governance—that it is actually the younger members who will push us into more and more live preaching.

Tom Olson is a pastor at the Orchard Evangelical Free Church in Arlington Heights, Illinois.

Copyright © 2014 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

After five years of subsistence living, trying to plant a church, I’d had enough. The five years before this experience, we had experienced God’s sufficiency, even though many days were like manna in the wilderness—God’s provision was just enough. Just enough resources. Just enough encouragement. Just enough hope. But after five years of church planting, I couldn’t do it anymore. I was empty. I knew the church deserved more than my burned out heart could give. I also knew my family deserved more. With the blessing of my wife and children, I resigned with nowhere to go.

It was a season of lostness, but it also revealed ways that God enters our darkness.

The footprints disappeared

I had never been there before. Throughout my life, following Jesus had been a challenge not because of his direction, but because of my willingness. This time however, it was his direction (or the lack of it), that was the problem. It was like I woke up one morning and the footprints I had been following disappeared. I had no idea where to go or what to do.

I prayed. I fasted. I looked for jobs. I read the Scriptures. I did everything I knew to do. Nothing worked. Then I stopped doing everything I knew to do. That didn’t work either. I could not gain traction to move forward. I felt lost and felt all of the emotions that come with being lost. I was afraid, lonely, angry, and confused.

After five years of church planting, I couldn’t do it anymore. I was empty.

I landed a job working as a Bereavement Coordinator with a local hospice agency. It was the perfect job that I did not want. It was perfect because I was going through my own loss and was able to relate to grieving people on some level. No, I had not lost a spouse, but I had lost my job, a career, a church family, my call, and a web of friendships. I remember feeling a heavy sadness whenever I would think of the church plant. That church had been my dream and now it was gone. I remember crying on my drive to work on several occasions because of my disappointment. Very little about this season of life was anything I wanted.

Perhaps the greater despair I felt during this time was God’s silence. I felt like I was pursuing an ever-elusive lover. This pursuit of God reminded me of the guy who finally found the woman of his dreams. His heart was smitten with her beauty. He did everything to woo her to himself only to find that she spurned his every effort. Regardless of his attempts to win her heart, she refused him. Why was God aloof? After all, I had left everything to plant a church and what did I end up with? Nothing. And now God was keeping me at a distance?

I had left everything to plant a church and what did I end up with? Nothing. And now God was keeping me at a distance?

Had I sinned in an awful way? Had I disqualified myself as a pastor? Had he decided to bench me because of a significant character flaw? I prayed the confessions of Psalm 139 many times. If I had missed something, I wanted to know it.

Seth Barnes described such a season of his own life in his book, Kingdom Journeys. He found himself in a similar situation after starting a new ministry, describing it as a “dark phase.”

Somewhere in that desperate place, I cried out to God. All I seemed to get in response was silence. It confirmed what I’d always suspected, but was only coming to believe: we Christians could advertise a “personal relationship with Jesus Christ” until we were blue in the face, but whatever relationship I had with God was decidedly impersonal. What kind of friend doesn’t respond when you call on them?

I felt his pain. The silence was deafening. I was lost and nothing made sense.

And it lasted for years.

Living with a detached heart

It was during this season of lostness that Christ took me to the deep places of my heart, to uncover and heal the hidden and broken parts. It was like he pulled up to my house one day, smiled and said, “Get in. I want to take you somewhere.” So I did. He took me to my heart. I cringed when I saw it. I would have never gone there had he not taken me. I tried to get away, but the doors were locked. He refused to let me go. Instead he forced me to trust him in those deep places.

God was forcing me to discover who I was, and in the process he was doing a work of transformation.

When I did, I discovered that I was living with a detached heart. I had no idea who I was. I was comparing myself to others. I was trying to please people. I was unsure if I was enough. No one had ever tapped me on the chest and asked, “Hey! What’s going on in there? How’s your heart?” While it may be intuitive to many, self-awareness was a new place for me. God was forcing me to discover who I was, and in the process he was doing a work of transformation.

It was during this time that I discovered that God’s best gifts are not always given. Sometimes they are developed. Things like wisdom, courage, hope, and endurance flourish when life is an uphill climb. God had not forgotten or forsaken me. Instead he had chosen me. He wanted to take me to new places of beauty and strength. In order to get there, an internal transformation had to happen. Much like the butterfly coming out of the cocoon, I needed this struggle if I were to survive and eventually take flight. This lostness was how God was making me to become more.

Becoming more

Ephesians 3:20 became a lifeline for me. It reads that God is

… able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine according to his power that is at work within us.

More was on his heart for me. He desired to do immeasurably more through me, so he needed to do immeasurably more in me. This verse also clarified why I felt disoriented—God was working in my life in ways that my mind could not imagine. I could not grasp the depth of his immeasurable work. So when I would ask God why this was happening, his silence meant that my mind could not comprehend what he was doing. There was nothing he could say. All I could do was trust that his heart was for me.

This wisdom transformed me. The ways of God are too great for us to imagine sometimes. So we should not be surprised when we do not comprehend his plans and purposes. God often does his greatest work in the dark.

We should not be surprised when we do not comprehend his plans and purposes. God often does his greatest work in the dark.

In my darkness, something powerful was happening. Although my circ*mstances were not changing, I was becoming more than I was and more like he intended. Richard Hendrix once put it like this:

Second only to suffering, waiting may be the greatest teacher & trainer in godliness, maturity, & genuine spirituality most of us ever encounter.

The passage of time can have a powerful impact on us. As Jeff Goins wrote, “In the waiting we become.” God knew what I must lose in order to give me what I needed so I could become what he desired.

The “more” God was creating

What was the “more” God was creating in me? It showed up in several areas. Once I had a sense of self-awareness, I began to truly feel my emotions, especially the negative emotions. I knew I had been angry before, but I refused to feel it. After I found my heart, I was okay with being angry. I learned what endurance truly meant by pushing through obstacles. My faith developed thick skin. Also, I had greater confidence and clarity for my own life. I could move forward with purpose.

Self-awareness is an amazing gift that you don’t even know you need until you have it.

I returned to pastoring and could tell a difference in my role. I preached with greater compassion as I realized that many people in the audience were hurting. I no longer felt compelled to compare myself or my ministry with anyone else. My leadership came from a place of self-awareness, which I now see is critical for healthy and effective leadership.

LaRae Quy is a former FBI agent who spent 24 years as an undercover agent. She is a motivational speaker and author of Secrets of a Strong Mind. On her blog, she wrote:

Leadership begins with knowing who we are and what we believe. Authenticity is the need for leaders to be themselves regardless of the situation. For this reason, it is more than self-awareness; it is the ability to share the deepest and truest part of ourselves with others.

I have seen the absence of self-awareness many times in other leaders, but this time I saw it in me. God enabled me to let go of my fear and lead from a true heart of courage.

Self-awareness is an amazing gift that you don’t even know you need until you have it. Then you wonder how you got so far without it.

A marathon of the mind

Just recently I completed my first marathon. It was the most difficult thing I had ever done. It took me two years of training, but I finally did it. Do you know the part of my body that I had the hardest time getting in shape for it? It was my mind. I had to train my mind to think in marathon terms. That was the same challenge I faced when I got lost. God had to re-train my mind and he did when he allowed me this season of lostness and pushed me to finish this race.

If you are facing a stuck and silent season of faith, be encouraged. Something great—that you can’t see—just might be happening.

Your story is being written, and someday you will tell it.

Bruce Pittman has been a pastor for more than twenty years in Georgia and North Carolina. You can read more of his story in his book, Found My Heart When I Lost My Way.

Copyright © 2014 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

• Our Man in Tehran, directed by Drew Taylor and Larry Weinstein
• Private Violence, directed by Cynthia Hill

There is a moment in Our Man in Tehran, Drew Taylor's and Larry Weinstein's documentary about "the Iranian hostage crisis and Canada's role in it," when former hostage William Daugherty describes being tortured. His hands were bound together with wire to cut off the circulation and make them more sensitive and then beaten with a hose. Daugherty calls it the worst, most excruciating pain he has ever felt.

There is something humbling and haunting about approaching another human being in the place where he has been hurt the worst. An action as perfunctory as a handshake before or after an interview can remind you of how much power—to cause pain or to promote healing—there is in the human touch, how words and deeds have consequences that will be felt for years.

Our Man in Tehran: "What's the Right Thing to Do?"

History is comprised of human lives, and one of the things that made Our Man in Tehran a highlight of the Full Frame Documentary Film Festival (held April 3-6 in Durham, North Carolina) was that while the personal narratives provided context for the broader historical narrative, they were never eclipsed by it. Co-director Larry Weinstein said he tries to shy away from voice-over narration partly because it can come across as spoon-feeding history. He prefers to let his film's subjects talk directly to the audience—and they do.

The "Man" of the title is Ken Taylor, the former Canadian ambassador to Iran who risked his own life and those of his countrymen to help six Americans who had fled the fallen embassy get out of Iran. Co-director Drew Taylor (no relation to Ken Taylor) told me the film was in the works before Argo and was categorically not meant as any kind of response to Ben Affleck's film or attempt to capitalize on it.

The documentary was made because the hostage crisis was "a very important moment in Canadian history," and also because the reticence of many who lived through the events, including Ken Taylor, meant that despite the great amount of archival news footage there were facts about the story that were not widely known. Among them are that Taylor helped the United States gather information to prepare for Operation Eagle Claw, and that Canadian Prime Minister Joe Clark and Foreign Minister Flora MacDonald approved the historically unprecedented step of issuing passports for non-citizens which were handed over to the American government (and eventually used in operation Argo).

The remarkable thing about Our Man in Tehran is its ability (much like Rory Kennedy's Last Days in Vietnam which also played at the festival) to take a complex situation and distill it without being reductive. The Americans first called John Sheardown, who in turn informed Ambassador Ken Taylor that he had accepted his American colleagues into his home. In an understated but remarkable scene, Taylor relates that rather than asking for permission before making a decision with international policy implications, he informed his Foreign Minister and Prime Minister of what he had done after the fact.

As Weinstein emphasized in an interview with me, Taylor, Sheardown, Clark, and MacDonald all speak of their actions as though they were neither particularly heroic nor exceptional. They simply asked, "What's the right thing to do?" Integral to understanding the event and why it unfolded the way it did, Weinstein suggested, is that Prime Minister Joe Clark and President Jimmy Carter "were both highly moral men." His directing partner, Drew Taylor, concurs, saying the film depicts people making "moral decisions" and using their "basic instincts" about right and wrong to guide their decision making.

Challenging Political Cynicism

During a panel discussion with the audience, former Ambassador Ken Taylor was asked if, in retrospect, he agreed with American decision to admit the Shah of Iran to the United States for medical treatment, an act which ended up being a catalyst for the hostage crisis. He said the act "reflected a U.S. value" and that if asked he would have encouraged the United States to "take him in."

That answer provided important insight into the motivations of the participants. It was tempting while watching the film or interviewing the artists to wonder if such a value-driven form of decision making was specific to the time period or to Canada, because seeing people act in such a way challenges the viewers' cynicism about politicians and statesmen.

When I asked Drew Taylor and Larry Weinstein if they shared my sense of wonder at that part of the story, they both said "no." There are ample examples in our history and in our present of people—including but not limited to religious people—choosing to put others before themselves, choosing to do what they believe is right rather than what they know is safe. Our Man in Tehran provides several examples, and for that reason is an inspirational and encouraging film.

Private Violence: Understanding Domestic Violence

Cynthia Hill's Private Violence is another story of torture and terror that is paradoxically inspirational. The film profiles several women who are victims of intimate-partner violence and one advocate, Kit Gruelle, who trains responders, supports women, and interacts with court personnel to try to confront and dispel misconceptions about domestic violence.

"I'm the person who lives in the gray," Hill told me in an interview at Full Frame. "I'm not didactic." Such sentiments may make domestic violence seem a strange topic for the documentarian to choose, but Hill thinks it helped her avoid making a film that simply "beat audiences over the head" or "gave audiences the answers." She also conceded that she approached the subject with some of the same questions or attitudes that she assumed others would have: "Why don't they just leave?" and "I would never allow that to happen to me." By exploring those questions for herself, she gives audiences permission to ask them and, hopefully, draw their own conclusions.

As with most complicated questions, "Why don't they just leave?" has more than one answer. The documentary profiles several women who have been violently abused, but it eventually narrows its primary focus to one, Deanna. When she tried to leave her abuser, she and her daughter were kidnapped for four days. She is beaten repeatedly with fists and a flashlight, humiliated (her abuser held her down and urinated in her face), and forced to endure threats to her daughter if she does not comply with her abuser's demands. (The hospital photos of Deanna's injuries are gut-wrenching.)

As horrific as Deanna's story is, it also provides a lens into the at-times Kafkaesque ways society responds to her and those like her. A prosecutor asks Gruelle if she can find a doctor willing to testify that Deanna's injuries are "serious" and not just "soft tissue" injuries. Because Deanna was held in the back of a truck and could not testify exactly what county she was in when she was beaten, prosecutors cannot prove jurisdiction. "Assault of a woman" is still only a misdemeanor in many locations. Why don't abused women simply leave their abusers? Sometimes, as with Deanna's case, they do, but their abuser refuses to let them go.

What About Abuse in Faith Communities?

I asked Hill what messages she hoped a specifically faith-based audience might take from the film. She thought for a moment and replied that given statistics on domestic violence in the United States, the chances are that we all know abuse victims; we just don't know that we know them. She suggested that the reasons women suffering violent abuse might not leave (or even come forward) are complex and could vary from community to community.

A woman in a faith community, for instance, might struggle with feeling like "she may not be praying enough" or may feel communal pressure to deal with such matters privately. Such rationalizations or fears can seem misguided or even irrational in retrospect but physical abusers are more often than not also especially good at isolating those they abuse and subjecting them to psychological and emotional manipulation.

Hill made it a point to stress that "I did not want [the film] to feel alienating to a male audience." That is part of the reason for showing Gruelle training male police officers, including the testimony of a male doctor who examines photos of Deanna's injuries, and giving a voice to male family members of victims of intimate-partner homicide. Although the causes of violence might vary from community to community, Hill hoped that all of us, male or female, outside of a faith community or within it, could agree on one thing: "No women should have to be afraid in her own home."

Kenneth R. Morefield is an Associate Professor of English at Campbell University. He is the editor of Faith and Spirituality in Masters of World Cinema, Volumes I & II, and the founder of 1More Film Blog.

Critics Roundup

The votes are in on Rio 2, and things are not looking good. Critics are saying the film is too bright, has too many celebrity voices, and too much subplot. And since our lovebirds from Rio are happily situated with coupled owners, they don't even need to leave on another adventure in the first place. The AV Club says, "Despite the attempts at broadening the secondary-ideological themes, this is another familiar father-in-crisis tale, dotted with musical interludes for [Kristen] Chenoweth and [Jemaine] Clement, and dressed in brighter plumage." The Dissolve says Rio 2 puts in a lot of effort "to give people what they expect." But PluggedIn believes Rio 2 has some redeeming factors: "Director Carlos Saldanha . . . certainly knows how to create something sparkling and colorful for the kiddos." And it's good for the family because it "praises family, friendship and love, along with positive life-building traits like responsibility and bird-brained determination." So it might be worth a trip to the theater with your family after all.

Wondering whether or not you should see Draft Day? According to The Dissolve, it's an unusual sports movie—"one that takes place almost entirely off the field." Kevin Costner, playing the general manager of the Cleveland Browns, shows us how much work the NFL really is. But the AV Club says all the plots and subplots actually come across as "overly simplistic." A.O. Scott for the NYTimes agrees, but says that while the film "is shallow and evasive, more built around corporate wish fulfillment than around reality . . . it sells itself beautifully."

Movie News

Corey and Topanga are back, but this time as parents in the new Disney Channel series Girl Meets World. This spinoff reminds us of the '90's sitcom and may represent a shift in Disney's television programming. Read more and watch the trailer here.

In what's becoming an annoying trend clearly designed to get more of your money at the box office, the Divergent "trilogy" will now include four films, with the third book in the series—Allegiant—being split into two. Read more here.

Heather Cate is a spring intern with Christianity Today Movies and a student at The King's College in New York City.

In 2012, Harvard Divinity School historian Karen L. King unveiled a fragment of papyrus she called the Gospel of Jesus' Wife. The fragment says, "Jesus said to them, 'My wife…,'" and the rest of the sentence is cut off. Another segment says, "As for me, I dwell with her in order to…" but the speaker is not named.

Several scholars quickly dismissed the manuscript as a modern fake, prompting the Smithsonian Channel not to air its documentary on the papyrus piece. Thursday, Harvard Theology Review, which had planned to publish King's findings more than a year ago, released reports on the testing of the manuscript's papyrus and ink, calling them "consistent with an ancient origin." Professors at Columbia University, Harvard University, and MIT found that it resembles other ancient papyri from the fourth to the eighth centuries. But some scholars, such as Leo Depuydt, professor of Egyptology and ancient Western Asian studies at Brown University, still believe the fragment is a modern forgery. Their issue has not been with the papyrus or ink, but with grammatical "blunders" they say seem remixed from the Gospel of Thomas.

Both the 2012 announcement and yesterday's drew headlines worldwide—far more attention than other manuscript fragments purportedly from the fourth to eighth centuries. Should we care? Does this tell us anything about Jesus or early Christianity? We asked Nicholas Perrin, Franklin S. Dyrness Professor of Biblical Studies at Wheaton College, and the author of several books on the Gospel of Thomas.

Do you think this fragment is a legitimate ancient document?

The consensus is that it is authentic, in the sense of being from sometime between the fifth and the ninth centuries. That's important and interesting. It likely reflects that an earlier text was copied down.

Can someone, on the basis of this fragment, say, "A-ha! So now we know Jesus was married"?

No, that's an illegitimate move. [This document is] so far removed from the first century that this rather reflects the speculations a later sect had about the earthly Jesus.

In the Coptic, the phrase really says, "Jesus said to them, 'My woman…'" It could mean "woman" in the generic sense, but I think it just means his wife. The word is chime, which in this context, I think, means "wife." And then it goes on to say, "she will be my disciple." To me, this seems most reminiscent of another text dated to the third century AD, called The Gospel of Philip.

In the Gospel of Philip, there are intimations of Jesus being married, or at least having a partner. The Coptic term is a little ambiguous, at least regarding Mary. It's a mysterious text, but what's going on, to the best of our knowledge, in the Gospel of Philip is that Jesus and Mary are reconstituting a kind of mythic primeval androgyny. What the folks behind the Gospel of Philip are saying about Jesus is that he is the new Adam and Mary is the new Eve. And the whole point about redemption is to get male and female together once again (in my interpretation), but this time without sexual intercourse.

I believe the Gospel of Philip represents a sect where men and women cohabitated and followed Jesus, but forbade sexual intercourse within what would otherwise be a marriage relationship. So the Gospel of Jesus' Wife fragment could give theological warrant to that.

Some scholars say the statement about Jesus' wife could be metaphorical. Do you think that was the intended meaning?

It could be. But because there is certain correspondence with the Gospel of Philip, I think this is somewhat literal. But not necessarily with sexual intercourse in the picture. Obviously, the church is Christ's bride and so on. But to me that does not seem to be the original context of this, if I'm drawing lines properly.

It seems that if Jesus really did have a wife, the Gospel writers would want to include a major detail like that in their accounts.

Yeah. From time to time, people have fun playing around with the possibility that Jesus was actually married. The argument goes something like this: In first-century Judaism, young men generally got married. Parents found a match for their son, just as in Fiddler on the Roof. We don't have clear explicit evidence that Jesus was not married, so the inference is that Jesus was married and the Gospels just never mention that. Although, when you look at texts like Matthew 19, which historical Jesus scholars ascribe high authenticity to, Jesus says, "There are eunuchs who have been made so from birth, some have been made eunuchs, and some have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven." The pretty clear inference is that Jesus himself is a eunuch. In other words, he's a single man.

Ancient biographies, just like modern ones, will mention the spouse of a subject, whether it's Alexander the Great or Julius Caesar. The Gospels are types of biographies. I assume that if Jesus was married, they would've mentioned it. And the truth is a lot of people didn't get married. Rabbis took vows of celibacy to demonstrate their own commitment to Torah study. The Essenes were celibate. The Therapeutae in Egypt were celibate. Certain prophets, like John the Baptist, were celibate. So there is a connection between holiness and celibacy already in the first century, and Jesus fits very nicely into that.

Do you think this is getting so much attention just because people think it undermines traditional Christian beliefs?

People like to throw dust in the eyes of the orthodox folks and say, "Look, you can't even get the basic facts about Jesus right. You don't even know whether he was married or not. You thought he wasn't married. Turns out he was. So, there's a good chance that you're awfully wrong about a lot of other stuff—including whether he provided atonement for the world."

The more you can find stuff out of left field that doesn't fit our picture of Jesus as we know it, the more you can make a case that today Christians have got it wrong.

The thing about the wife issue is that it's near sexual ethics. There's no hotter topic in our culture right now than sexual ethics. If you can turn it around and say, "You [Christians] have been thinking for 2,000 years that Jesus was celibate, and you held that forth as an ideal. It turns out that he was married and very much interested in sex. Therefore, he didn't really care about sexual ethics the way modern-day Christians do."

Is there any reason Christians should be unsettled by documents like these?

The Wife of Jesus fragment should not be at all unsettling for the Christian faith. It reflects the belief of someone who was writing between the fifth and ninth century. That belief might go earlier, but when we know that there were all kinds of heretical beliefs cropping up around the end of the first century, so we also know this is nothing new.