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‘Jesus
camp’: Kids used for Christianity
By
Stewart Oksenhorn
November 13, 2006
Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, the directors of
"Jesus Camp," a film about young evangelical Christians, give as
little spin to their subject as can be imagined. The documentary
features precious little talking-head commentary, statistics or even
argument; this is not Michael Moore shredding the history of the
Bush family's relations with Iraq.
So when Becky Fischer, the director of a North Dakota camp for young
evangelicals who gets the most screen time, observes that children
are "usable," no one asks the question: Usable for what? For whose
purposes? But "Jesus Camp" is a powerful film - and for those who
believe in a secular America, a frightening one; and for those who
believe that a parent's obligations include protecting their
children's innocence, a sad one. And without directly addressing
those questions, Ewing and Grady strongly suggest that these kids
are being "used," and with all the negative connotations associated
with that word.
The children, ranging from 5 or so up to their early teens, are
taught that they are soldiers in the army of the Lord. But they are
not soldiers seeking battle against poverty and injustice, as Christ
might have described himself. Tellingly, not one of the evangelicals
- child, parent or minister - speaks once of using his faith for a
greater good, to relieve someone's pain, or to bring about the end
of war. They are soldiers in a battle with a real enemy: anyone
unholy enough not to believe, as they do, that only by being born
again in the name of Christ will there be a place in heaven for
them.
The lesson is intolerance, and Levi, a 12-year-old aspiring
preacher, is a fine student. "Whenever I'm around someone who isn't
a Christian, it makes me feel kind of icky," he says. Wouldn't
Christ be proud.
In a sermon to a church full of kids, Fischer gets even more
specific about the enemy. She warns of the battalions of children in
the Middle East so dedicated to their faith that they are strapping
bombs to their bodies, prepared to blow themselves up for their
religion. Fischer's point about kids being usable - she elaborates
by saying their minds are wide open, that they can be easily molded
- is made as the children speak in tongues, cry and confess to the
very real evil that inhabits their souls.
So what are these children being used for? Political ends, for one.
In the film's ickiest scene, a preacher is brought in to explain the
evils of abortion. By the end of the sermon, these kids can be
forgiven for being incapable of distinguishing between a carefully
considered abortion and the drive-by shooting of a random bystander.
In another scene, the children are made to greet a cardboard cutout
of President Bush, and then to pray for the appointment of
right-thinking justices.
But the evangelicals' concern with worldly issues goes only so far.
If your time on earth is but a blip and the real reward comes in the
hereafter, why fret your mind over the environment? So when Levi
gets home-schooled, the lesson plan - from his mom - includes a
section on why global warming is a bunch of left-wing hooey.
The resolution of a film involving real-life kids is inevitably left
up in the air. The story isn't finished until we see these kids as
adults.
Or is it? In an offscreen plot twist worthy of the divine hand, one
of the featured evangelicals is the Rev. Ted Haggard, the recently
fallen head of Colorado Springs' New Life Church. Haggard points to
the camera and denounces homosexuality; he jokes, "For $1,000, I
won't tell your wife what you did last night."
Is this the final scene that awaits the kids of "Jesus Camp"? Are
these kids being damned to a mortal hell of condemnation,
intolerance and self-loathing that leads, on a small scale, to
hypocrisy and deceit, and in the larger theater, to holy war?
"Jesus Camp" wraps up a two-night run tonight at Aspen's Wheeler
Opera House, 320 E. Hyman Ave. Showtime is 7:30 p.m.
Stewart Oksenhorn's e-mail address is
stewart@aspentimes.com |
