Author: Jon Partlow

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The Peanuts Gang: A Little Bit of Comics; A Little Bit Like Church

For 50 years Charles M. Schulz sat at his drawing table, and from his imagination to his pen, flowed a world the comic reader stepped into every day. The time it took to write and draw by hand the panel for publication must have been measured in hours. The time it took to read a four panel strip was moments. The impact from reading one of his strips was unmeasurable.

Who didn’t identify with Charlie Brown, his yellow shirt with the black zigzag stripe, and his seemingly failure at life? He was always likable, but never liked. Who didn’t have their own Lucy, who held all the answers (even if they were wrong), but lacked some compassion? She was always bossy, and sometimes even a bully. Who didn’t want their own security blanket like Linus? Yes, he’s smart and very philosophical about life, but something in him needed reassurance. Who doesn’t know someone with an obsessive passion like Schroeder has with the piano? Who didn’t want a dog like Snoopy? I could go on for hours about these beloved characters, who were written two-dimensionally, but whose personalities were clearly deeper and stronger than just comics. 

One of Schulz’s strengths – and he had many strengths – was his ability to incorporate such a wide variety of characters into his strip, and each character had a specific purpose, role, and quirk that moved his story forward. Lucy is bossy. Linus is the sole relentless believer in the Great Pumpkin. Sally resents her big brother and is love-struck by Linus. Schroeder is a child prodigy musician who plays Beethoven on a toy piano (the black keys were painted onto the white ones). Peppermint Patty is an athletic tomboy, being raised by a single dad. Pig Pen needs a bath. Marcy is book smart, but lacks many social skills. Snoopy is a dog, well sort of. Somehow, despite their differences, failures and egocentric personalities, they managed to stay friends, deal with issues, and entertain us every day for 50 years. 

The diversity Schulz locked into helped drive his comic strip (he even introduced the person of color, Franklin, to the gang at the height of the Civil Rights Movement in 1968). Diversity in a comic strip makes sense. The more characters, the more varied the characters, the more fodder present to draw humor. Even more so, the more diverse the characters are, the more room is made for tension and conflict. All of which is made for a great daily comic strip. 

Sometimes the church wants a two dimensional faith when our calling is to hold onto a three dimensional faith. The differences between two dimensional faith and three dimensional faith are significant. Two dimensional faith demands uniformity, while three dimensional faith seeks unity. Two dimensional tends to be cliquish and refuses new people into their circles, while three dimensional keeps expanding their circle of friends. The first one only seeks people who looks, acts, and talks like them, while the latter one enjoys the perspective brought by others of diverse backgrounds and culture. The first ones usually demands a restricted and regimented worship service, while the other realizes that others have tastes and needs different from themselves. The first one is simply a caricature of the church’s reality, while the other strives to become the church of God’s intent. 

The easiest way for a church to grow and to maintain unity is for the number of similarities to overshadow the differences. Everyone has the same background, from the same region, is the same color, uses the same translation, has the same educational experiences, the same political platform, and generally from the same gene pool. The hardest way for a church to grow and to maintain unity is for the church to accept and embrace the varied differences that exist among people. Ultimately, the only unifying factor that really matters is Jesus. 

While Paul often speaks of the need for church unity within his writings, the passage in Ephesians is poignant,

Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit – just as you were called to one hope when you were called – one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all (4:4-6).

Paul recognized the difficulty the church has in insuring its unity is secure. Corinth and Galatia were hotbeds of division, and are we certain Philippi was a haven of unity? While we don’t know the specifics of Paul’s letter to Ephesus, we do know that in order for unity to solidify within diversity, it’s going to take work and effort on our part. Lots of forgiveness. Lots of understanding. Lots of grace. 

So Christ distributes the different graces to each member, as he determines it (v. 7). Thus, not all graces will look alike, but all the graces serve the same purpose. They encourage one another in the hopes that the church may experience unity (v. 12-13), and those in leadership take the lead in insuring the steps for unity are made. Celebrate differences.  Celebrate each other’s individual grace. Celebrate the uniqueness of the individual as he/she comes to the body. 

Schulz was able to maintain the diversity and tension in his strip because he was behind the characters’ thoughts and actions; they said and did nothing without him drawing them first. We don’t have that luxury. We do have one luxury though. We have a God, and he’s not just pulling our strings, he’s pulling at our heart strings for unity. 

bonum dolor!
(e.g., Good Grief!)

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The Wilderness: Somewhere Between Egypt and Canaan

As Israel journeyed through the wilderness of the Sinai Peninsula, they were hit with two sides of reality. On one side, they were no longer slaves in Egypt. They were liberated while humiliating their opponents as they left town. After 400 years in bondage, freedom felt like a cold drink of water on a hot muggy day. On the other side, they were a long way from their destination, the Promised Land. Sure it was only a ten day journey, but God had other plans. Their stop off was a two year layover at Mt. Sinai. And as we know, their two year stop turned into 40 years of character building.

Forty years is a longtime to find yourself in the wilderness. You’re not bound to slavery, but you’re not home, either. The wilderness is unbearably hot during the daylight hours with little protection from the sun’s heat. But then when the sun sets the heat escapes the sand and it gets cold, really cold at night. Water is scarce as oasis appear as frequently as a gas station on a highway in the open plains of South Dakota. And then there’s the sand itself. It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. Not like Canaan where everything is soft and smooth.

We’ve often experienced the wilderness. It’s that in between time. The teenage years define the wilderness as the youth is not a child but not quite an adult. You’ve quit your job but you won’t start your next employment opportunity for another month. By placing the ring on her finger means you’ve redefined the relationship for you’re no longer in a dating relationship, but you’re not married either. Our time on earth holds a wilderness feel to it. We live between Jesus’ appearances on earth. We don’t live at the time of his Incarnation, while we long for him to return and claim his own.

Wilderness time is a needed respite. It’s a time to slow down, recharge the soul’s batteries and refocus our priorities. When Israel entered the wilderness, God needed to take a loosely collected family and begin the process of giving them an identity. More importantly, they needed an identity tied to him. So he led them to Mt. Sinai to give them the Law and to establish his covenant with them.

But the wilderness can wear on you. For Israel, they kept looking back at what they left behind instead of focusing on where they were headed. They glossed over the slavery part of Egypt while fixating on the homes they left and the (bad) food they ate. Instead of anticipating the land flowing of milk and honey and living in homes they would not build, they settled for the past. So consumed with returning to Egypt, they staged a coupe before God intervened (Num. 14).

Most of 2020 has been spent in the wilderness. It’s been difficult, lonely and filled with mixed messages. We’ve left behind a life we knew and a life of familiarity. Since then we’ve been staggering, almost feeling like we’re lost. We want to go back. We want things to return to normal. I miss dinner with friends. I miss sporting events. I miss hugs. I miss a building filled with people in worship and fellowship.

But life is always about moving forward, not stepping back. Life drives us to the future, not to the past. God always leads us to the Promised Land, not to Egypt. What will that be like when we get through this wilderness to reach the Promised Land? I can’t say. Will there be a semblance of the life we’ve left? Maybe. I hope so. But what I know is that we need to hear and see more faith from those like Joshua and Caleb, who trust God to move us into the future with him, who reminds us to trust him too.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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It Was A Dark and Stormy Preface

I have no memory of my life without Snoopy or the Peanuts Gang. For Christmas in 1968, my parents gave me a Snoopy doll that I slept with longer than I hated to admit. I remember deciding that I was too old for the doll and placed it on top of the wardrobe my father constructed for my room. But like Linus and his blue blanket, one night I woke up from a nightmare and immediately retrieved my doll from the wardrobe. About the time I was 35 years old, I found Snoopy in a box at my parents’ house. Disappointment overcame me as he was filthy; “rigor” had set in. Suddenly, I found myself traveling my childhood road as my mother took the doll from me and said, “I’ll fix him.” And she did. With her sister by her side, they used Snoopy as a pattern and cloned four copies of him, one for me and one for each of my children (a piece of the original Snoopy was placed inside each clone). 

For Christmas in 1972 Santa put an Avon Snoopy mug in my stocking, and I cannot count the number of times I drank Spice Tea from that cup. The next year I found the Fire-King, “Life Is Pure Joy” mug, in my stocking, and each subsequent year I anticipated finding the newest Snoopy mug in my stocking. Today, I have well over 90 mugs and cups which I proudly display in my man-cave. 

Along with the mugs strategically place, I’ve collected multiple wall hangings. Some include a classic plaster World War I Flying Ace I piloting his Sopwith Camel, purchased at the 1975 Portland, Oregon Columbia Christian Schools Holiday Fair (that I still have it over 40 years later is quite an accomplishment). A tole painting of Snoopy dancing with the slogan, “Happiness is February 14,” was painted by my mother made for me on my 11th birthday. And then a cross stitched picture of Snoopy and Woodstock with the message, “A Friend Is Someone Who’ll Go Running With You At Six In The Morning,” given to me by my wife while we were dating and I was running track and cross country for Harding University (morning runs were common). Cross-stitched shirts, collectable stamps, coloring pictures, patches, phones . . . the list of Peanuts Gang memorabilia is almost embarrassingly endless. 

I own and have read the entire Peanuts Collection published by Fantagraphics Books. As a child, I collected multiple Peanuts books and read them more than my school assigned books. When I was in college, dad cut out Peanuts from the daily strip and mailed them to me on a weekly basis. Since I often checked my mailbox on the way to lunch, I read the strips while I ate in the cafeteria. With students around me, I was immediately the most popular kid – my own five minutes of weekly fame. I shared the strips with those with me. And somewhere, lost in the universe, is a picture of the Peanuts Gang autographed by “Snoopy” when I wrote him a letter. 

What made Charles M. Schulz and Peanuts so successful? Fifty years of meticulous drawings and punchlines certainly wear on a person (not counting overseeing TV specials and movies). I have no answers, nor will I attempt to be Lucy and invent answers which will just make me sound ridiculous. Who doesn’t connect with Charlie Brown’s failure in life, but always optimistic enough to throw another pitch, fly another kite, or entertain the thought of introducing himself to the Pretty Little Red-Haired Girl? Who doesn’t identify with the insecurities of Linus and his need for a blue security blanket? Who hasn’t encountered a bully like Lucy, or in some cases been the bully like Lucy? And if you’ve ever owned a dog, surely every now and then you could see Snoopy emerge somewhere in their actions. And yes, and in my life, I’ve felt many times the pain in the stomach as “I feel like I’m standing in the middle of the Roman Coliseum.” They were simple children, but struggled with complicated, adult-like, issues and character flaws. Through their own imperfections, we fell in love with them. 

In my reading about Mr. Schulz, two things emerged which have touched me deeply. First, he was a very unassuming and humble man. He enjoyed life out of the spotlight, and tried to make sure others felt like they were more important than he, which sounds a lot like Philippians 2:3. Secondly, for many years he taught a Bible class at the Methodist Church where he was a member. No one could doubt that one of the wells Schulz drew from was the Bible, and he drew from that well more times than one should forgive each other (see Mt. 18:21-22), but as it turned out the Bible was far more than just fodder for a punchline. He was a man of faith. 

I will not assume that Mr. Schultz would readily endorse any of my thoughts or how I interpret the Peanuts Gang. Had he read any of these stories, he may have been gracious enough to me to say something kind, but I have no intention of allowing this work to speak for him, nor do I believe in any way that my thoughts ever crossed his mind. He often inserted references to Bill Mauldin, the World War II artist, in an attempt to honor him for his work. What I offer is in that same vein. I’m merging my own thoughts from the biblical narrative with my insight into the Peanuts Gang. Both have had a tremendous impact in my own life. Maybe all of this is simply an act of futility, but if you find encouragement from my endeavors, then I’ve succeeded. 

The title of these posts is a parody of Mark 1:3’s reference to John the Baptist when he quotes Isaiah 40:3. While John was in the desert calling people to repentance and was the first to point them to Jesus, we find Linus convincing Sally (and others) to sit with him in the pumpkin patch to await the Great Pumpkin. For those of us awaiting Jesus’ return, we still find ourselves sitting in the pumpkin patch of life hoping beyond hope for his return. 

Finally, I normally end my writings with “soli deo gloria!” which is Latin for “Glory only to God!” (loosely translated). However, for these writings, I’ve chosen “bonum dolor!” which is Latin for “Good Grief!” If you’ve just smiled at that statement, then you’ll probably enjoy the pages you’ll be reading.   

bonum dolor!
(i.e., Good Grief!)

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Problem Solving Life

The art of movie making is a disaster in the mix. With so many variables in play, we shouldn’t be surprised how movies bomb in the theater. Actually, with so many variables I am amazed at how many movies succeed. From studios to actors to producers to directors to set builders to script writers and rewrites, the possibility for something going wrong seems inevitable. That anything comes together perfect like a puzzle is amazing in and of itself.

David Sandberg, who directed the hit movie, Shazaam!, says movie making is really about problem solving. Just getting Zachary Levi’s character to fly through a shopping mall is one problem. So you shoot three stunt guys dressed in blue pushing an oversized “tuning fork” with Levi attached to it running through the mall. Then you painstakingly erase all the blue pixels from the scene only to realize too late that crew members were seen in the scene. So in come the CGI guys who add gift bags and mops to the crew members and suddenly they’re shoppers and custodians. Problem solved.

One of the most powerful moments in all of Star Trek became more powerful by accident. Admiral Kirk witnesses his son being murdered by the Klingons. The scene called for him to step back and stumble into his command chair, uttering his line, “You Klingon (explicative)! You murdered my son!” Instead, Shatner tripped on the stage platform and fell backward. Staying in character, he uttered his line making his appeal even more emotional than he would have otherwise. The scene went to print. Problem solved.

Getting through life is often a disaster in the mix. Anything and everything that could go wrong usually does. A couple step into retirement to spend the rest of their lives together, only to discover life cut short from cancer. A professional’s career is secure until the market turns and he’s left without a job. A friendship parts way, maybe over unmet expectations or maybe over politics, and both mourn the loss. Or maybe a pandemic breaks out and people either fall ill or divide even more so because no one trusts anyone or the government. Unsolved problems.

5000 people followed Jesus and when they were hungry he fed them. A blind man sat on the road and he cried out to Jesus and he healed him. The disciples were fearing for their lives in a boat on the lake when Jesus calmed the storm. A multitude of people listened, wanting answers to living and Jesus delivered the Word of God. The world needed redeemed so the Lamb of God took away their sins. Problems solved.

Sandberg admits that “every scene has its own problems to solve no matter the scene.” The job of the director is to solve the problems as they materialize. No melt downs and instead, a non-anxious presence. Sometimes the problems end up creating the best solutions for the movie that the writers never imagined.

Not long ago Andy Stanley was attributed to a post on FaceBook. In it he recalls talking to an 87-year-old who lived through polio, diphtheria, Vietnam protests and is still enchanted with life. In the midst of this COVID-19 Pandemic, one might expect him to feel the anxiety and pressure brought on by this disease. He said, “I learned a long time ago to not see the world through printed headlines. I see the world through the people that surround me. I see the world with the realization that we love big. Therefore, I choose (to direct my own scenes): ‘Husband loves wife today;’ “Family drops everything to come to Grandma’s bedside.’” He pats (Andy’s) hand, “Old man makes new friend.” Problem solved.

So life is not about solving problems, it’s about framing your life. But most encounters we experience bring on problems. And we have a choice. We can easily become exasperated and discouraged, throwing our hands up in the air in despair. Or we can make do and reframe the scene to capture a better moment. And who knows, maybe the problems we face create the best solutions for our life that we never imagined.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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A Voice in the Wilderness: When John the Baptist Preached

John the Baptist played a central role in preparing Israel for the coming Messiah. His ministry was linked to Isaiah’s prophecy (Is. 40:3; Mt. 3:3; 11:10; Mk. 1:2-3; Lk. 3:4) as he laid the groundwork for Jesus’ ministry. He was not the Messiah (Lk. 3:15-16; Jn. 1:6-8), but he was the final prophetic voice before the Christ stepped onto the world’s stage (Mt. 3:11; Mk. 1:7-9; Lk. 3:16; Jn. 1:8,15). Dressed in camel’s hair, wearing a belt with a diet of locust and wild honey (Mt. 3:4; Mk. 1:6), he appeared like Elijah redivivus (i.e., revisited). Jesus rightly confirmed people’s suspicion (Mt. 11:14; 17:10-13; Mk. 9:11-12).

Instead of darkening the doors of the Synagogue or standing on the steps of the temple, John’s sanctuary was the wilderness. People came to him and listened to him preach. Unshackled by local ministries, John lived in isolation and freedom as he preached and called his listeners to repentance (Mt. 3:11; Mk. 1:4; Lk. 3:1). Amazingly, they journeyed into the desert, where many repented and were baptized. For he was a lone voice crying, pleading and entreating in the wilderness.

While John’s ministry was short lived, he pulled no punches. Through the Gospel accounts, we know he spoke to at least three groups of people where his call for repentance rang loud and clear.

He confronted the religious leaders (Mt. 3:7-10). He called them a “brood of vipers” as if they were children of snakes. More to the point, he called them children of The Snake. While they were pretending to repent, he questioned their motives and confronted trusting their religious heritage. In essence, God didn’t need them, they needed God. And while being a descendant of Abraham was important to them, it wasn’t valued by God. In fact, God was ready to prune anyone refusing to repent. Thus, producing fruit in accordance with repentance is what God was seeking (Mt. 3:8).

He confronted the general population echoing his message from the religious leaders (Lk. 3:7-9). When they asked him what they needed to do, assuming they were in the process of being baptized, John drew from the Eighth Century prophets (Amos, Micah, Hosea and Isaiah) in tone and substance. To those listening, he told them that if they have enough food and clothing, then share with those who don’t (Lk. 3:11). To the tax collectors he warned them to stop padding their own pockets and collect only what is fair (Lk. 3:13). To the soldiers he told them to stop falsely accusing people, which of course is a violation of the ninth commandment. He also told them to stop extorting monies and to be content with their pay (Lk. 3:14). Such actions display the heart of repentance and how social justice underpinned his sermons.

He confronted the governor for not only stealing his brother’s wife (Mt. 14:4; Mk. 6:18), but for a host of evil things Herod had done (Lk. 3:19). Never playing party politics or glossing over the corruption of the person, John shot his arrow straight and with laser accuracy to the heart. He didn’t bend his message either to appease the ruler or to save his own skin. John wasn’t interested in pleasing anyone. With his preaching falling on deaf ears and a hard heart, John was arrested by Herod and eventually executed by beheading (Mt. 14:1-12; Mk. 6:14-29).

The forerunner for Christ played a significant role in preparing the hearts of people for Jesus. His rugged appearance and rough exterior attracted onlookers and seekers. His preaching penetrated people’s hearts, and they began changing their lives. They repented. They were baptized. Neither the temple nor the synagogue could hold him, and it’s clear that the religious system couldn’t hold him as well (Mt. 21:25-27; Mk. 11:29-33; Lk. 20:4-7). But God held him and the Jews needed his preaching. But those in control and in charge of the system couldn’t stomach John’s preaching. What I fear most about American churches today is that we couldn’t stomach his preaching either.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)