A Halloween Though: Sir John Talbot and the benefit of being rigid

So we watched our obligatory annual viewing of the Wolf Man this year.  As we have for years, though not all of the boys are around when we do these things now.  A couple times a month get together is a big win, and that's understandable. 

Claude Rains as John Talbot

But this year something jumped out at those of us watching.   If you've not seen the movie - and what's wrong with you if you haven't - here's the gist.  Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney, Jr.) goes back to his ancestral home in Wales after a hunting accident claims his older brother.  Shortly thereafter, he tries to save a young woman being attacked by a wolf, but is unable to do so and is bitten himself.  Well, we all know what happens next.  As everyone, including Larry, tries to make sense of things, the inevitable happens. And, as with most gothic horror, it concludes tragically, since it ends up being Sir John Talbot, his father, who must slay the beast, who turns out to be his last son. 

Now, one of the story threads is the relationship between Larry and his father Sir John Talbot (played by the always wonderful Claude Rains).  Basically Sir John is old school.  A man of science, a man of faith, lord over the region. He admits he is a stiff-necked person as are all the Talbots.  And he stands firm on success and flaw alike. He's none too happy with the local doctor's suggestion that Larry needs committed.  No Talbot in his house is going to the funny farm.  Instead he takes it upon himself to cure his son's apparent mental collapse that has happened in the wake of the girl's death.  After the death of a local gravedigger, John straps Larry to a chair the next night, and turns him to look out the window and watch the hunt for whatever or whoever it is that is now killing people in the region.  This will prove all of his crazy notions about wolves and werewolves is nonsense.  

But he leaves Larry to himself, going out to take his rightful place among the people in his charge.  Nonetheless, while the hunt takes off and there is rumor that something has been seen in the fog draped woods, he runs back to the house.  While on his way, he encounters the old gypsy woman who pretty much knows everything that is happening and why.  It's a great scene with two strong actors showing what happens when power personalities with deep rooted beliefs clash.    

As guns begin ringing out, Sir John, carrying Larry's walking stick with the silver wolf's head handle, rushes back in the direction of the noise, as the gypsy simply bids him to 'run Sir John, run.'  Elsewhere in the woods, the werewolf appears, ready to kill Gwen Conliffe, the woman Larry loves, as all werewolves must apparently do.  She screams, which alerts John to the direction he needs to go.  She tries feebly to resist, but the terror of the encounter causes her to pass out and be at the wolfman's mercies - when in rushes Larry's father.  

The climatic death duel at movie's end

Here John Talbot  pauses, understandably taken aback by what he sees.  And this is the part that got us this time.  As the wolfman stops and drops Gwen to the ground then rushes toward Sir John, what does he do?  He charges forth!  He's just carrying a walking stick for crying out loud, he sees that creature of supernatural horror that sends men screaming into the night - yet he barrels straight into him for a one on one fight to the death.

I hadn't ever thought of that before.  I was always stuck on whether or not he knew now that it was Larry, and that he is the one who will have to kill his son.  But one of my sons noted it this time.  Wow.  Freaking bat crazy courage of the umph degree.  He sees an actual werewolf in all its horrifying appearance, having never believed until two seconds earlier that such a thing could even exist, and instead of running for his life, he rushes straight into the fight with a stick.  Not a gun.  A walking stick.  

Can we say bravery, courage, stones of steel? And yet, when you think on it, that is his character.  The movie tells you throughout that he's a man of strong principles, rock rooted beliefs, a man of faith and science with strong convictions in both.  He's not afraid to say it straight and out loud.  He doesn't cower, he doesn't tell it like it ain't, or talk out of three sides of his mouth.  He admits his faults and defends his principles with the same staunch convictions.  And when he sees a young woman in distress at the hands of an unbelievable creature born of living nightmares, what does he do?  Runs headlong into the fray without hesitation. 

I thought of that after my son noted it.  He is what Pope Francis would have said is rigid.  Which Pope Francis was, when it came to issues near and dear to his heart. As are most people. I realize the dangers of people who hunker down and decide it's their way or the highway.  We know what happens sometimes when that approach is taken.  But I've come to realize that almost all people have that tendency about things they care deeply about.  The difference isn't if they are more tolerant or not, or dare I say, more rigid or not, but if they are honest about it.  I believe that is a major cause of our problems today.  A lack of honesty.  And beyond the obvious problem of lies and mendacity that we see, people who lack the conviction and courage to speak plainly regarding what they are rigid about.  Just say it straight.  Even in the face of opposition or worse.  

Considering so many from various Christian traditions today pretty much giving up and going along, it's worth pondering.  I remember how, decades ago, a big kerfuffle was 'stop saying Jesus' in public.  You remember how this went along with 'out with Christmas trees, in with Holiday trees'.  In my ministry days that was a thing. If asked to give some invocation at a public event, we would increasingly be asked to not pray in the J-Name.  Some resisted.  I recall a colleague who said there's no sense sending an letter if he can't address it.  But most went along.

Same with sin.  Same with Hell or eternal consequences.  Same with salvation through Christ. Same with basic morality.  How often when the world pushed, did so many in the Faith buckle and accommodate?  How often did we see people increasingly change the message, or water down how the message was delivered, to avoid giving offense?  How often did they seem to speak in ways not in line with what they said they actually believed?  Of course at the time, the demand that Christians do so was farmed under the 'we simply must be tolerant, must not be judgmental, must embrace all views, and must never impose our values or religious beliefs on others.'  I suppose those who so acquiesced believed the World meant it.  Not  that they didn't continue teaching their various doctrines, at least on Sundays.  But increasingly on the World stage, you saw a sort of distilled 'let's not offend' version of that old Gospel message.

So when things began to reveal themselves, and that old message of diversity, tolerance and inclusion became 'convert and conform or watch your derriere', what have we seen?  Religious leaders charging against the monsters of this emerging movement even if they only have a cane?  Nope.  We've seen so many turn tail and run like scared rabbits, or throw down the cane and concede it's time to be bitten. 

All of this came to mind as I saw a story about the thing that used to live up to the name Christianity Today.  You know, the late Billy Graham's contribution to an Evangelical spin on the world of the day. Well, it's now the post-Western spins on the Left's mounting agendas.  Recently it published a story about how one of its contributors concluded a well known missionary, Elisabeth Elliot, might have been bi-sexual because pro-gay activists suggest it about an event form fifty years ago.  But nothing in her own writings appear to suggest it (a very modern progressive scholarship approach to history).  But that's what CT now calls careful research.  

Nonetheless, what people noted isn't the slipshod research, but that CT took an almost Entertainment Tonight approach.  Almost a 'gee, that's cool' vibe, rather than anything close to a traditional Christian understanding of the topic.  Just think on it.  Billy Graham's publication.  Now musing on the bisexuality of a beloved missionary because someone said so. Yet when I consider those who are contributors to the rag now, it makes perfect sense.  At least when applying the Talbot principle of strong convictions lead to stalwart courage.  Or, in the case of so many within the Faith over the years, as well as so many leaders today as a whole, quite the opposite.