Everyone:
So, it appears Christian extremists have their own version of the madrasses that are run by Islamic extremists. Somehow, I'm not reassured by this revelation (pun intended). Read on:
That last sentence sends shivers up my spine. God save us from the nutcases, no matter their age or cause.
Gatekeeper
So, it appears Christian extremists have their own version of the madrasses that are run by Islamic extremists. Somehow, I'm not reassured by this revelation (pun intended). Read on:
By Sheri Linden
Fri Sep 15, 6:22 PM ET
LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) — Few personality-trait combinations are more obnoxious than narrow-mindedness and condescension — especially in children.
The compelling documentary "Jesus Camp," which Magnolia Pictures opened in select cities Friday ahead of its New York and L.A. bows September 22, demonstrates how those qualities are being cultivated in a generation of pintsize proselytizers. Beyond their deadly earnestness, these children of the evangelical Christian right are being groomed as soldiers in a self-declared culture war to reclaim America for Christ.
Those who have been born only once might find it easy to laugh off Jesus-themed hip-hop numbers or Adam & Eve Barbie dolls. But filmmakers Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, who also focused on children in last year's poignant "The Boys of Baraka," provide a fascinating glimpse of kids' role in the evangelical movement's political agenda.
Pastor Becky Fischer granted the filmmakers access to her Kids on Fire summer camp, a 5-year-old program in North Dakota where first-graders to teens are variously entertained, broken down and preached to. Wielding everything from PowerPoint to plush toys to illustrate the wages of sin, the impassioned Fischer has a clear-eyed view of children as malleable material, ripe for the inculcating. When they're not speaking in tongues, pledging allegiance to the Christian flag or blessing a cardboard cutout of George W. Bush, the kids rally round to hear Fischer and others entreat them to "join the war," "fix the sick world" and fight abortion (tiny fetus dolls serve as preachers' aids).
At the center of "Jesus Camp" are three home-schooled Missouri kids: 12-year-old mullet-haired Levi, saved at 5 and already preaching; 10-year-old soldier's daughter Tory, who loves dancing to Christian heavy metal, not always solely for the spirit; and the smuggest member of this brigade, 9-year-old Rachael, who breathlessly approaches strangers to talk about Christ. Perhaps she'll get that nail-salon job she shrewdly envisions as a good way to Bible-stump; perhaps grown-up life will temper her single-mindedness. Or maybe Rachael will end up as resolute as the "enemies" she's being trained to oppose — martyrdom for Jesus, she enthuses, would be "really cool."
Reuters/Hollywood Reporter
Fri Sep 15, 6:22 PM ET
LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) — Few personality-trait combinations are more obnoxious than narrow-mindedness and condescension — especially in children.
The compelling documentary "Jesus Camp," which Magnolia Pictures opened in select cities Friday ahead of its New York and L.A. bows September 22, demonstrates how those qualities are being cultivated in a generation of pintsize proselytizers. Beyond their deadly earnestness, these children of the evangelical Christian right are being groomed as soldiers in a self-declared culture war to reclaim America for Christ.
Those who have been born only once might find it easy to laugh off Jesus-themed hip-hop numbers or Adam & Eve Barbie dolls. But filmmakers Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, who also focused on children in last year's poignant "The Boys of Baraka," provide a fascinating glimpse of kids' role in the evangelical movement's political agenda.
Pastor Becky Fischer granted the filmmakers access to her Kids on Fire summer camp, a 5-year-old program in North Dakota where first-graders to teens are variously entertained, broken down and preached to. Wielding everything from PowerPoint to plush toys to illustrate the wages of sin, the impassioned Fischer has a clear-eyed view of children as malleable material, ripe for the inculcating. When they're not speaking in tongues, pledging allegiance to the Christian flag or blessing a cardboard cutout of George W. Bush, the kids rally round to hear Fischer and others entreat them to "join the war," "fix the sick world" and fight abortion (tiny fetus dolls serve as preachers' aids).
At the center of "Jesus Camp" are three home-schooled Missouri kids: 12-year-old mullet-haired Levi, saved at 5 and already preaching; 10-year-old soldier's daughter Tory, who loves dancing to Christian heavy metal, not always solely for the spirit; and the smuggest member of this brigade, 9-year-old Rachael, who breathlessly approaches strangers to talk about Christ. Perhaps she'll get that nail-salon job she shrewdly envisions as a good way to Bible-stump; perhaps grown-up life will temper her single-mindedness. Or maybe Rachael will end up as resolute as the "enemies" she's being trained to oppose — martyrdom for Jesus, she enthuses, would be "really cool."
Reuters/Hollywood Reporter
Gatekeeper
Comment