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353 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 5, 2007
I've always had this sense that there is another language I once knew, a joy that was mine before I was born. When I get a glimpse of that glory through art, I can feel the memory of it pressing against the back of my mind, and the longing for that peace and resolution wells up inside me. I can't quite grasp it. I can't speak my native language. Not yet ... but I'm learning.Not exactly what you'd expect from a book about movies is it?
If I do the difficult thing and pull myself away from art that is merely entertaining and start searching for those currents of truth that reside within beauty and mystery, I will be drawn off the path of familiarity and comfort. The reality of God is not bound to a particular earthly language, country or style. His spirit can speak through anything. But He is far more likely to be encountered in those things that are excellent rather than shoddy, particular rather than general, authentic rather than derivative. I will find myself investigating art and expression that never played for audiences in this country -- art that waits overlooked on the shelves of foreign and independent films at the video store. And I will be changed, concerns with cares and disciplines that make no sense to Hollywood movie publicists.
It could be a lonely road. But it's a road that leads farther up, farther in, to greater majesty and transforming truth.