Thinking Out Faith
Incidental Writings on Books, Ideas, Theology and Culture

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Jesus & Dylan: Celebrity as Messiah and Vice Versa

I'm not usually in the position these days of writing on really current day-to-day events, the supposed forte of the blog medium. Well no more! Having seen a movie a few weeks back (on opening day I think!) I'm prepared to launch this blog into the world of immediate cultural relevance.

The movie was I'm Not There, a weirdly successful bio-pic of Bob Dylan as portrayed by six very different actors. The scene is one in which Dylan (the most realistic one, played by Cate Blanchett!) and Allen Ginsberg (David Cross) are heckling a life-size crucifix. Dylan yells up to the statue of the dying Jesus something like: "Play us some of your early stuff!"

Now I know, this would seem beyond blasphemous, but in a strange way Dylan's comment in the movie (which I have no idea as to its basis in fact or not) is spot on, not as a criticism of Jesus but as a sarcastic barb directed at Jesus' fickle followers. And Dylan would be one to know.

The overarching preoccupation of the film is the iconic status Dylan was thrust into after his early success and the reaction of his folkie fans when he continued to reinvent himself and his music. The movie's portrayal of the legendary performance at the Newport folk festival where Dylan first 'went electric' has Dylan and his band ascending the stage and assaulting the audience with machine guns instead of guitars. This is how betrayed Dylan's 'followers' were at his apparent selling out the purity of folk for the crassness of pop.

The connection between Jesus and a modern celebrity, especially one whose position was vested with more significance than the usual pop idol, is in how their followers treated them. Dylan's fans put him on a pedestal, made him the 'spokesmen of a generation', and in many ways became his devotees. When the man moved beyond the image and in directions not expected by the followers, they felt betrayed. The one who was the epitome of their ideal, they later felt justified calling a traitor. The savior becomes the Judas. So it was for Dylan, so too for Jesus.

Dylan fans wanted him to keep doing the acoustic political stuff they sentimentally thought would change the world; Jesus' disciples wanted him to keep up the trajectory of the Messiah apparently come to kick out the Romans and lead their nation to its glorious destiny. When Jesus started talking about rendering to Caesar what was Caesar's and the inclusion of the gentiles, I'm sure his crowds were thinking Jesus was selling out. And when the mission headed to Jerusalem, building up to a very different kind of confrontation with the powers-that-be than was expected of the Messiah, even the closest core of disciples were telling Jesus the first-century Messianic equivalent of "play us some of your early stuff!"

When a supposed disciple denounces the master as traitor it just shows the fact that the disciple never really intended to follow beyond the path they already knew on their own. The problem with being a follower is that it entails that the leader is the only one who could know the destination, and even he usually doesn't.

The persona of a celebrity, whether cultural or religious, is the possession of the fans and will be guarded from anyone who would disfigure it, even the person sharing the persona's name. The idolized savior is a projection tenaciously clung to and claimed by its followers who are capable of killing to protect its purity, even if it means killing the savior himself.

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