Perceptions from a Pewboy

Do you remember Rev. Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple in Jonestown, Guyana? The Peoples Temple was a doomsday cult and Jim Jones was its charismatic leader. In November of 1978 (thirty years ago), Jim Jones and his staff, fearing a government crackdown and fueled by delusions of apocalyptic grandeur, convinced their people to commit mass suicide by drinking a beverage laced with cyanide. Those who would not commit suicide were murdered. In all, 914 people died, 276 of whom were children.

As a twelve-year-old boy, I watched the news reports in the aftermath of that horrific tragedy. I saw the photographs of the dead bodies lying side by side. I remember wondering to myself, “How could something like this happen? How could so many people come to the conclusion that it was a good and acceptable thing to do something that was so violent and so destructive?”

My answer came from an FBI agent who had just investigated the site and who had agreed to be interviewed by a television reporter. With tears in his eyes and a look of utter disbelief on his face, the FBI agent spoke these words: “Those people,” he said, “were misled and corrupted because they didn’t understand the true nature of the man they were following.”

Even as a twelve year old, I sensed that there was something profoundly true about his words. Even at that young age, I had begun to understand that much of who we are and much of who we become is dependent upon the nature of who or what we are following. And make no mistake about it, everyone is following something or someone, whether they know it or not.

Some people follow a particular philosophy or a set of intellectual presuppositions, all of which form their perception of reality and their desire to live life in a particular fashion. Some people adhere to a self-help or a self-improvement ethos and would be willing to follow Dr. Phil into a burning house. Some people follow a plan for upward mobility and financial success, and much of the content of their life is dictated by the requirements of that plan. Some people follow the goal of having the perfect family at all costs, and they are willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of keeping their family members happy and comfortable. Some people follow L. Ron Hubbard and the teachings of Scientology. Or the Koran and the teachings of Islam. Or the Bhagavad Gita and the teachings of Hinduism. Or the Dalai Lama and the teachings of Buddhism. Or Jim Jones and the teachings of the Peoples Temple in Jonestown, Guyana.

Indeed, everyone is following something or someone, whether they know it or not. And much of who we are, much of who we become, is dependent upon the nature of who or what we are following. If we are unaware of the nature of who or what we are following, then there is always the risk that we will be led down a dangerous and destructive road, which was precisely the point of that FBI agent in the aftermath of the Guyana tragedy: “Those people,” he said, “were misled and corrupted because they didn’t understand the true nature of the man they were following.”

This upcoming weekend is a unique opportunity for us to remember the true nature of the One we are following. I say that because this weekend is Christ the King Weekend. (I describe it as Christ the King Weekend rather than Christ the King Sunday because the church that I serve holds a Saturday evening worship service.) Christ the King Weekend, often overlooked in the Christian calendar, is nevertheless a yearly opportunity for the entire church to reflect upon the peculiar royalty and the universal Lordship of Jesus Christ.

More specifically, Christ the King Weekend is an opportunity for the church to remember that the One we follow is not simply a prophet or a healer or a philosopher or a teacher. Rather, the One we follow is the Lord of all creation and the Savior of the world. He is the supreme and only ruler of the kingdom that he himself established—the kingdom that will stand long after all the other kingdoms of this world have fallen. He holds perfect authority over all the forces of this world, seen and unseen, good and evil. He is a monarch whose reign is eternal, meaning that he never has to campaign, he never has to be re-elected, and he never has to say, “I’m Jesus and I approved this message.”

In short, on Christ the King Weekend, we remember that the One we follow is a King who is as righteous as he is reliable, as replete with truth as he is with grace.

Thirty years ago, 914 people died in Guyana because they did not know the nature of the man they were following. The remembrance of that thirty-year-old tragedy makes me all the more grateful for Jesus Christ, who came into the world that people might have life and have it in abundance.

Eugene Peterson’s “The Jesus Way” is a book that occupied a space on one of my shelves for the last year. Last week, I finally read it.

One of the strengths of the book, I think, is its sharply prophetic take on the utilitarian way in which the church often approaches ministry. According to Peterson, the church’s current fondness for an “end justifies the means” approach to ministry represents an unprecedented opportunity for church growth. Unfortunately, it also poses a great threat to the integrity of the Way of Jesus Christ. In Peterson’s words, sometimes the ways in which we follow the Way are contrary to the ways in which Jesus leads his followers:

More often than not, I find my Christian brothers and sisters uncritically embracing the ways and means practiced by the high-profile men and women who lead large corporations, congregations, nations, and causes, people who show us how to make money, win wars, manage people, sell products, manipulate emotions, and who then write books or give lectures telling us how we can do what they are doing. But those ways and means more often than not violate the ways of Jesus. (Eugene Peterson, “The Jesus Way: A Conversation on the Ways that Jesus Is the Way, ” Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdman’s Publishing Company, 2007, page 8.)

Peterson suggests that this penchant for embracing any methodology that “works” emerges from a cultural proclivity to valuing efficiency over integrity. This does not mean, of course, that a particular ministry cannot be both efficient and rich with integrity. Peterson’s point is simply that, if it comes to a choice between the two, many North American churches will side with the way of efficiency:

North American Christians are conspicuous for going along with whatever the culture decides is charismatic, successful, influential—whatever gets things done, whatever can gather a crowd of followers—hardly noticing that these ways and means are at odds with the clearly marked way that Jesus walked and called us to follow. Doesn’t anybody notice that the ways and means taken up, often enthusiastically, are blasphemously at odds with the way Jesus leads his followers? Why doesn’t anyone notice? (page 8.)

Some would say that Peterson is painting with far too broad of a brush in his ecclesiastical analysis. Perhaps he is. I will freely acknowledge that I was not at all eager to give much credence to his critique of what he perceives to be the church’s fondness for utilitarianism.

Yesterday, however, I walked into the wonderful church that I am privileged to serve and was greeted by a small poster on one of the bulletin boards for Cash4Gold, a refining company that specializes in purchasing secondhand jewelry. Cash4Gold, interestingly, is one of the biggest sponsors of the Howard Stern show on Sirius Satellite Radio (which, of course, bears witness to the company’s willingness to overlook a program’s character if it means gaining wider exposure).

Why is the Cash4Gold poster on my church’s bulletin board? Because one of the church’s ministries is utilizing the company in order to raise money for itself. People will bring their old jewelry to the church, and a representative from Cash4Gold will make an offer for the jewelry. All money raised will go to ministry.

In one sense, I suppose that there is nothing wrong with such an endeavor. After all, how is it different than the flea markets and bake sales that many church’s employ for the purpose of raising money for ministry? On the other hand, something caused me to mutter three questions to myself yesterday as I walked into the church. Those three questions were these: “What in the world does a secular refining company have to do with raising money for the ministry of the church? Isn’t ministry dependent upon the generosity and stewardship of the church’s people? And what changes occur in the ethos of a ministry when we begin to fund the ministry with the ways of the world?”

I immediately answered all of these questions for myself in a generically utilitarian fashion. “Well,” I said to myself, “the money will go to a good cause, and so all is well.” The end, in other words, justifies the means.

But here are the deeper questions with which I am left: Has the church grown so comfortable with making partnerships with the world’s way of doing business that it has lost its focus on the peculiarity and uniqueness of the Way of Jesus Christ? Has the church become so utilitarian in its fundraising and growth methodologies that it has diminished its own capacity to incarnate the often countercultural ethics of the kingdom of God? Has the church believed for so long that the end justifies the means that we have begun to accommodate a distorted sense of what constitutes acceptable means and, for that matter, our truest end?

I have no easy answers for those questions. But I am grateful for Eugene Peterson and his willingness to raise them in “The Jesus Way.”

Today, I attended a Service of Death and Resurrection in celebration of the life of Reverend Charles (Chuck) Goodin. The service took place at Franklin Street United Methodist Church in Johnstown, Pennsylvania. It was a poignant time of worship that both glorified the Triune God and illuminated the life of a brother in Christ whose presence will be dearly missed by many.

In the retired relationship since 1999, Chuck served as a United Methodist pastor in the Western Pennsylvania Annual Conference for well over 40 years. Most recently, in his retirement, he served as chaplain at Arbutus Park Retirement Community in Johnstown.

Back in the summer of 1988 (just over twenty years ago), I participated in the United Methodist intern program here in western Pennsylvania. At the time, I was a 22-year-old recent college graduate who was a few months away from beginning his seminary studies. The people overseeing the internship program made the decision to assign me to First United Methodist Church in Greenville, Pennsylvania. The pastor of that church was none other than Chuck Goodin.

For three months during the summer of 1988, Chuck mentored me and put me to meaningful work. During the mornings, I ministered with children and youth in the church and community. During the afternoons and evenings, Chuck and I shared together in the ministry of visitation. We visited with people in hospitals and nursing homes. We also visited with people in the comfort of their living rooms and kitchens. Somehow, no matter where the evening took us, we wound up at Dairy Queen, talking and laughing over a Banana Split or a Peanut Buster Parfait.

Those were good and important days for me. During those three months, Chuck blessed me with his integrity and his graciousness. He inspired me with his devotion to pastoral care and his love for the church. He helped me to appreciate both the beauty and the struggle of local church ministry.

We laughed a great deal together that summer. We also moved beneath the laughter rather effortlessly in order to experience with one another the depths of prayer and the complexities of theological dialogue.

Chuck Goodin was a mentor to me. He was also my friend. He taught me that authentic ministry is not ultimately about clever programing and shrewd leadership techniques. Rather, in the end, ministry is about preaching the Way of Christ and incarnating the time-consuming relational intimacy of his love. Chuck did both faithfully throughout his ministry.

It was a profound honor to sit with my mother and father in worship this day as the congregation sang praises to God and gave thanks for one of the newest members of the great cloud of witnesses.

In the process of cleaning out some of my files at the church, I discovered this list of behavioral parameters that I developed several years back for a covenant group called NEW COMMUNITY. I facilitated this covenant group and remember it fondly. I thought that some of you might be interested in reading through the list of behavioral parameters by which we endeavored to live.

Parameters for “NEW COMMUNITY”

16. And, by the way, love one another.

At long last, I have found something redemptive about “Dancing with the Stars!”

It is interesting to me that next weekend’s lectionary gospel reading is Jesus’ parable about the ten bridesmaids and their lamps (Matthew 25:1-13). Five of the bridesmaids, never waning in their anticipation of the arrival of the bridegroom, keep their lamps well-fueled, that they might be fully prepared should the bridegroom arrive in the dark hours of the night. The other five bridesmaids, however, allow themselves to slip into an inexplicable condition of foolish apathy concerning their degree of preparedness. Their supply of oil runs low, and they do not replenish it in a timely fashion.

When the bridegroom finally arrives, the five unprepared bridesmaids are elsewhere, desperately searching for some oil for their lamps. As a result, the five unprepared bridesmaids miss the wedding. They are shut out because they lost sight of the urgency of a well-fueled lamp.

The kingdom of heaven, Jesus says, is something like this story.

If that is indeed true, then we can draw some significant conclusions:

–The kingdom of heaven is a condition in which people are so thoroughly enlivened, impassioned, and transformed by the reality of Jesus Christ that they stubbornly refuse to succumb to the dullness, the apathy, and the indifference that so often characterize the human pilgrimage.

–The kingdom of heaven is a daily realm in which followers of Jesus approach life, not with a spirit of dullness, but with a spirit of unwavering zeal; not with a spirit of apathy, but with a spirit of relentless joy; not with a spirit of indifference, but with a spirit of vibrant preparedness, as though they sense that they are preparing for something eternal.

–The kingdom of heaven, in other words, is a way of living in which followers of Jesus approach all of life, not with empty spiritual lamps, but with lamps that are well-fueled by a radical commitment to the things of God, a radical obedience to the statutes of God, and a radical devotion to the ministry of God.

Over the last couple of days, I have spoken to some Christian Democrats who are absolutely thrilled with the results of Tuesday’s election. One might say that their lamps are burning very brightly right now. The problem is that, in some cases, their lamps are burning with the oil of political euphoria, which, as history reveals, never lasts very long. A biblical response to such Christian Democrats might be this: “Brothers and sisters, be careful. Make sure that you have the right kind of oil in your spiritual lamps, and don’t be too quick to rely on the cheaper fuel of political success and power.”

I have also spoken to some Christian Republicans this week, a few of whom were moping around as though the world had ended. One might say that their lamps are rather empty right now. (This, by the way, is the problem I have with disciples of Jesus Christ who invest too much of their soul in the American political system: When the politics don’t go their way, they are left with empty lamps.) A biblical response to such Christian Republicans might be this: “Brothers and sisters, get over it! Cowboy up! Put some fresh oil in your lamps and burn them brightly for the sake of Jesus Christ (who remains politically unaffiliated).”

One other thing: I have heard no fewer than five racist “jokes” since Tuesday concerning President-Elect Obama (stupid and sickening barbs about having to change the name of the “White” House and replacing the White House garden with a watermelon patch). All five of the racist barbs came from people who were part of a church community. Given this, I am led to believe that, instead of celebrating the monumental significance of the fact that a black man has been elected to the highest office of a nation whose history is replete with racial division, some Christians are choosing to fill their spiritual lamps with the putrid oil of continued racism, resentment, and hatred.

In this world where many lamps are not burning very brightly right now and where many other lamps are burning with the wrong kind of oil, may this become the prayer of our heart: “God of the ages, pour the oil of Jesus Christ into my spiritual lamp, that I might burn brightly and rightly for him and for the ministry of his kingdom.”

On this Election Day, Ever-Reigning God, I pray for your forgiveness.

Forgive me for those moments when I have allowed myself to become too cynical to recognize the goodness of a country that allows its citizens the freedom to elect its leaders. Forgive me for being so eager to demonize certain political candidates, platforms, and philosophies that I fail to listen for the truth that they might bring to the public conversation. Forgive me for becoming idolatrous about my own political views at the expense of my capacity to love the people around me whose views are different than mine.

Deliver me, O God, from the things that would cause me to vote in the wrong spirit:

Deliver me from my weariness of political rhetoric, that I might identify rightly the issues that matter the most to me.

Deliver me from my anger over disparaging and oppressively negative political commercials, that I might respect the personhood of each candidate instead of allowing myself to be directed by their bad press.

Deliver me from my squeamishness about the political signs and posters that will greet me as I walk into my church’s basement to vote.

Deliver me from a corruptive social apathy, that I might come to a healthier view of our government’s role in the ordering of society.

Deliver me from fear concerning the future, that I might vote with a sense of assurance about the steadfastness of Christ’s Lordship.

Deliver me from spiritual myopia, that I might discern afresh the truth that, irrespective of which political party holds the upper hand in the governance of America, the politically-independent Lamb of God will remain upon the throne.

Make your presence known this day, O God, to the various political candidates and their families. Bring strength to all who are endeavoring to provide hospitality and organizational leadership in places of voting around the nation. Inspire humility and integrity within the hearts of those television and radio personalities who will share with us election results throughout the day and night.

Manifest your redemptive grace in our flawed political processes, that, throughout this day, hope might triumph over despair, encouragement over cynicism, and integrity over manipulation.

Pour out your Holy Spirit upon your Church this day, thereby enabling its people to celebrate the fact that their primary citizenship is to be found in a Kingdom that never has to be defended with an army, that never has to be stifled by a troubled economy, and whose eternally-reigning Lord never has to be re-elected.

Grant that my vote today will be nothing less than a prayerful act of hope, rendered in the assurance of your stubborn refusal to abandon the world that you so beautifully created.

I pray this in the name of Jesus the Christ, Lord of all creation and the Savior of the world, whose inescapable presence transforms even a voting booth into sacred ground.

Amen.

At the very beginning of the most famous sermon that he ever preached, Jesus offered what have come to be known as the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12). The word “beatitude” is a derivative of a Latin word which means “blessedness” or “blessing.” We call them the beatitudes because, in them, Jesus speaks of the revolutionary blessedness that is to be found in the kingdom of God.

By the standards of many in our world, people are blessed only if they are happy. In the beatitudes, however, Jesus dares to say, “blessed are the poor in spirit and those who are mourning [those who are fragile or emotionally broken or grieving], for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Might this mean that those who are poor in spirit are uniquely blessed in Christ because they understand their need for him more than the rest of us do and are therefore more receptive to the blessedness that he has to offer?

By the standards of many in our world, people are blessed only if they are powerful and successful. But, in the beatitudes, Jesus dares to say, “blessed are the meek [those who are gentle and humble and unassuming], for they shall inherit the earth.” Might this mean that those who are meek are uniquely blessed in Christ because they are humble enough to acknowledge their need for a savior and are therefore more receptive to the blessedness that only he can provide?

By the standards of many in our world, people are blessed only if they are ambitious and aggressive and comfortable. In the beatitudes, though, Jesus dares to say, “blessed are the merciful and the peacemakers and the persecuted [those whose inclination is to minister to others, to become instruments of peace and reconciliation, and to carry the cross, if it comes to that], for they will be called the children of God.” Might this mean that such peaceful and persecuted people are the ones who incarnate the very same spirit by which Christ lived?

All of the beatitudes, you see, bear witness to the revolutionary condition ushered in by God’s kingdom. It is a condition that illuminates what God can accomplish in the lives of those who are poor in spirit and persecuted. It is a condition that illuminates the way in which God is revealed in the work of the merciful and the peacemakers. Most of all, it is a condition that redefines what blessedness really means.

At the heart of the beatitudes is a verse of scripture that, in many ways, ties all of the beatitudes together. That verse is this: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” What is righteousness? It is, quite simply, right living—living in alignment with the desires and purposes of God. Literally, the word “righteousness” in Greek refers to the state of being as we ought to be or, more specifically, the state of being as God created us to be. Therefore, when Jesus says that people are blessed when they hunger and thirst for righteousness, he is telling us that they are blessed when their most passionate desire in life is to live rightly, manifesting integrity and virtue in their living, so that their lives become everything that they ought to be, everything that they were created to be, everything that God wants them to be. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, Jesus says, for they will be filled.

What I so appreciate about those words this day is that they provide for us a helpful vocabulary with which to speak about the saints of our faith. In some segments of the church, sainthood is a title reserved for a very few people who have garnered enough votes based upon their extraordinary accomplishments. In other segments of the church, however, including United Methodism, sainthood is something broader and more comprehensive than that. In the scriptures, after all, when the Apostle Paul refers to the saints of a particular church, he is not making reference to a group of people who have been canonized or voted in. Rather, he is making reference to all of those who have given their lives to Jesus Christ and who are endeavoring further his kingdom.

Biblically speaking, then, the saints are not perfect or sinless people. They are not even people who have accomplished something tremendous. Rather, the saints, to borrow Jesus’ vocabulary from the beatitudes, are all those people who consistently hunger and thirst for righteousness for the sake of Jesus Christ and his kingdom.

The saints, in other words, are disciples who do not simply flirt with right living. They hunger for it with their soul, they thirst for it with their spirit, as though living in alignment with the purposes and desires of God were the governing passion of their lives.

On this All Saints Day, who are the saints that you are remembering? What faces are appearing in your thoughts? Who are the people who have shown you throughout your life what it looks like to hunger and thirst for the righteousness of God? Remember them well.

Thanks be to God for the saints of our faith who have hungered and thirsted for righteousness and who now rest from their labor in a realm where their hunger has been completely satisfied.

OK, just for giggles, here we go.

On this Halloween, I am inspired to ask the same question that I asked last year at this time:

What have been the films that have frightened you most over the years?

Here is my personal list, in no particular order. (It is essentially the same list that I provided last year, with one exception: I bumped “Poltergeist” from the list and replaced it with “The Orphanage.”)

“The Exorcist” (1973–This film is replete with some of the most horrifying cinematic moments that I have ever experienced. Though certainly a bona fide horror film, the film’s pacing, dialogue, and acting are far more reflective of a well-crafted drama. The coldly manipulative and dreadfully eloquent phrases offered by “the devil” create a sense of palpable spiritual tension, especially since they are starkly juxtaposed with the vulnerability and brokenness of the people to whom the phrases are offered. Lastly, Linda Blair’s treatment of a crucifix makes Ned Beatty’s famous scene in “Deliverance” look romantically tender!)

“The Changeling” (1980–A memorable haunted house film starring George C. Scott. If you’ve seen it, you’ll understand when I tell you that I haven’t felt the same about wheelchairs or rubber balls since I watched it the first time.)

“Halloween” (1978–A small but effective film that wisely resists the temptation to say too much about its villain or his motives. The film simply puts him in front of us, throws an old Captain Kirk mask on him, and forces us to be terrified.)

“Psycho” (1960–I still have to keep an eye on the door when I shower!)

“Seven” (1995–Although more of a frightening crime drama than a horror film, “Seven” nevertheless provides several occasions of true cinematic horror. Personally, I find it to be a better film than “Silence of the Lambs,” to which it is often compared.)

“Alien” and “Aliens” (1979 and 1986–I place these two films together because they work in much they same way. By creating a powerful sense of claustrophobia, a dreadful network of circumstances, a number of interesting characters, and a way cool monster, the films stand as a couple of the finest “monster movies” ever made. Along with…)

“Jaws” (1975–Years ago, when we first purchased a DVD player, my wife Tara asked me if I wanted her to buy our very first DVD on her way home from work. I said yes. She asked me which one to buy. I told her to buy a gripping classic that would be both fun and compelling to watch. She came home with “Jaws,” thereby proving once again that she’s the coolest woman on the planet. Put simply, “Jaws” rocks. Speaking of which, did you about the woman from “Jaws” who had a dandruff problem?…………. They found her head and shoulders on the beach!!!!)

“The Ring” (2002–I know, I know. “It’s not as good as the original Japanese film, ‘Ringu.’” But, having seen both, I just don’t buy that. I’ll take “The Ring” over “Ringu” any day. When Samara actually crawled out of the television set, I screamed like a wild man and whispered to Tara, “That’s one of the scariest things that I have ever seen!”)

“The Shining” (1980–This, by the way, is also one of my favorite Stephen King novels. As a film–and, more specifically, as a film brought to life by a visionary director like Stanley Kubrick–it grabbed my attention and never let it go. I find it to be a brilliant story about ghosts, family dynamics, and one man’s rapid descent into madness. Plus, it is some of Scatman Crothers’ best work since Hong Kong Phooey.)

“Rosemary’s Baby” (1968–Ostensibly a story about the spawn of Satan, this film also creates a portrait of social alienation among Manhattan’s elite. Quite frankly, I’m not sure which storyline is more terrifying!)

“Fright Night” and “The Lost Boys” (1985 and 1987–To be honest, these are not stellar films. But it didn’t feel right to create a list like this without putting a couple of vampire films on it. These two films contain a wonderful combination of campy fun and genuine jolts. That’s the tooth, and nothing but the tooth.)

“American Werewolf in London” (1981–Humor and horror, in my opinion, are never far away from one another. Do you need proof? Look no further than “American Werewolf in London.” Throughout the film, I found myself simultaneously giggling and covering my eyes. Plus, this film offers the best “transformation into a werewolf” scene that you will ever see.)

“Exorcist III” (1990–Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. This clever film is a well-crafted piece of work that captures some of the depth and dread of “The Exorcist” while at the same time exploring some new territory. At times, it is genuinely terrifying.)

“The Orphanage” (2007–I saw this film for the first time just one week ago, and I am not over it yet. It is a smart and cleverly written ghost story that brilliantly juxtaposes the security of a mother’s love and the spiritual unsettledness of a memory-laden home for children.)

“The Sixth Sense” (1999–Is this film really a frightening drama or a dramatic horror film? Who cares?! All I know is that, when I saw it a second time, the scary scenes still gave me goosebumps, even though I knew they were coming. That’s the mark of a truly haunting film.)

“When a Stranger Calls” (1979–When the babysitter hears that ominous question from the mysterious caller–”Have you checked the children?”–I am always pulled into the depths of her fear and helpless vulnerability. Later, when she discovers that the calls are coming from inside the house, I normally lose control of my bodily functions.)

Thanks for taking the time to read through my list. I hope that it was a fun trip for you.

Enjoy your Halloween–and have a couple of good scares while you’re at it.

I had a surprising Halloween treat the other night. I was pleasantly unnerved (oxymoronic as that may sound) by a relatively new ghost story. The story came in the form of a film entitled “The Orphanage.” Made in Spain in 2007 (”El Orfanato”) and subtitled in English, “The Orphanage” explores a family’s odyssey into surreality, set against the backdrop of a desperate mother’s indefatigable commitment to her young son who, quite cryptically, goes missing. The fact that the story unfolds in an atmospheric old house with a dark and dubious history only adds to the film’s eeriness. The house had once been an orphanage for children who, for reasons unknown at the beginning of the film, never made it to adulthood.

Suffice it to say that the children from the old orphanage are dead, but not gone. Not by a long shot.

Sergio G. Sánchez, who wrote the screenplay, has a gift for creating dialogue that is compelling enough in its content and rhythmic enough in its flow to withstand translation. Director Juan Antonio Bayona keeps the tone beautifully understated (much like M. Night Shyamalan in his best work), thereby heightening the sense of foreboding that permeates every portion of the story.

Award-winning actress Belén Rueda (who demonstrated her ability to hold her own opposite the great Javier Bardem in 2004’s “The Sea Inside”) gives a haunting (if you’ll permit the adjective) performance as a mother who stubbornly refuses to believe that her missing son is beyond saving. Her single-minded and pertinacious pursuit of her child made me think more than once about the relentlessness of God’s pursuit of the lost. Like a shepherd desperately searching for a lost sheep, or a woman overturning everything to find a lost coin, or a rejected father holding out hope for the return of a wayward son, the mother at the heart of “The Orphanage” brings to mind the unflagging efforts of the Divine Parent.

In terms of the effectiveness of the film, let’s put it this way. I watched “The Orphanage” at home by myself on Friday night. (Tara was in New Jersey for her sister’s bridal shower.) When the film was over, I had to make certain that all the upstairs lights were on before I could even think about turning off any of the downstairs lights. I had to watch a little bit of Letterman just to take my mind off of the creepiness of it all.

Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!!

Check out “The Orphanage” (on Blu-Ray, if possible). Of course, if you don’t like scary films, then put on your bonnet and go see “High School Musical 3.”