'Lost' opportunity

SUNNYSIDE, Wash. — Tiptoe into Guerra’s Coffee Co. early Friday morning and eavesdrop on a conversation between two friends on leather couches.

You will hear deep talk, probably too deep for 6:30 a.m.

“It’s the double edge of the gospel, you kill to make life.”

“Did we affirm last time that he’s the moral compass of the show?”

“Maybe it will be a God of our own making.”

The Rev. Shane Lems and his friend Chad Werkhoven are dissecting the thorny theological themes that have helped make ABC’s “Lost” both a popular TV show and a cultural phenomenon.

They consider their banter an outreach for their congregation, United Reformed Church in Sunnyside.

Pastors do this, more now than ever. They no longer shut out the evils of entertainment; they grab the remote, pop some corn and dive right in.

“The old-school ways (of ministry) are ... well, old-school, and not very affective anymore,” Lems says.

Across the country, pastors lead movie discussion groups. Divinity school alumni publish websites with movie-based sermon ideas. Christian book retailers sell “Lord of the Rings” DVDs packaged with Bible study notes.

A pastor in Virginia, according to a Washington Post feature, spent an entire summer dressing up on Sundays as the main characters in the latest blockbuster.

The Rev. Rob Seagears of Christ Chapel Mountaintop cracked a whip like Indiana Jones, rode a motorcycle up to the pulpit as Batman and donned a green suit as the Hulk.

“It’s all about engaging your audience,” he told the paper. “That’s what Jesus did, telling stories.”

Here’s the rationale of the Rev. James Harleman, a campus pastor for the rapidly growing Mars Hill Church in Seattle: It’s impossible to escape entertainment, so we might as well approach it with a discerning mind.

“There’s really no such thing as mindless entertainment,” Harleman says.

 At 36, Harleman is a self-described media junkie. His first cognitive memory is of watching “Star Wars.”

Turning what was once his favorite distraction from life into lessons about life, the pastor screens monthly Friday night movies at his Lake City campus.

He calls the ministry “Cinemagogue: Film and Theology.” Anywhere from 50 to 250 people show up to both watch and talk about “Transformers,” “Citizen Kane,” “District 9” and scores more. He throws in a few TV shows — “The Office” made the cut — but plans to wait until the series ends in May to tackle “Lost.”

However, he’s been scolded for showing R-rated content in ... gasp ... a church.

“We took some heat from some Christians on it,” he says.

But rarely does he fast forward over scenes. Chances are, they’re the scenes that he is most eager to talk about because they resemble the lives of his neighbors. Averting his eyes would be like the Pharisees of the New Testament scolding Jesus for eating dinner with tax collectors, he says.

In fact, he encourages aspiring Christian filmmakers to produce horror movies because they, more than any other genre, confront death and eternity.

Such an embracing of popular culture grew in the 1990s and has held steady since, says Kris Rasmussen, a Michigan author and freelance journalist who covers church and entertainment.

Rasmussen is a contributor to Idol Chatter, a church and entertainment blog site on Beliefnet, a Web site of spiritual and religious topics. She also wrote “Wonkamania,” a 2005 book published by Tyndale House as a youth ministry discussion tool.

Rasmussen says pastors find human elements in the stories of movies and television shows to prompt thought.

“You’re always trying to find a common point of discussion,” she says.

However, she warns pastors should proceed with caution to avoid making their lessons “irrelevant.”

“There could always be an overdependence on the gimmick,” she says.

In Sunnyside, Lems advocates the same limits. For example, he does not plan to show movies on Sunday morning anytime soon.

“My view is that it is helpful to separate worship and entertainment so we don’t mix them up,” he says. “ I’ll gladly watch ‘Lost’ Tuesday and talk about it with a skeptic on Friday, but I’d hesitate to show it in a Sunday worship service for the sake of the skeptic there.”

And “Lost” gives him plenty to talk about.

The show is famous for its religious and literary references. Characters are named after philosophers. Classic book covers flash across the screen. Almost every week one of the actors ends up dunked in water in a new baptismal motif.

The references have been most blatant in this, the sixth and final season. Promotional images featured the principal cast members posed at a table mimicking Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper.”

Every Friday, Lems, Werkhoven and their fellow Losties join right in over lattés and pastries, hashing out redemption, good vs. evil and free will.

Lems and Werkhoven claim they would have the same discussions with or without their favorite show. Lems studied theology at Reformed Bible College in Grand Rapids, Mich., while Werkhoven, a part owner of his family’s truck repair business, is pursuing a master’s degree from Reformed Theological Seminary in Jackson, Miss.

“We’re not normal people,” Werkhoven says with a laugh.

But they are, Lems counters. Everybody asks deeper questions sooner or later, even if they don’t put them into so many words, he says.

“I think deep down we have a curiosity about why things are,” Lems says.

• Ross Courtney can be reached at 509-930-8798 or rcourtney@yakimaherald.com.