June 2001






As pastor of America's most important church, few things annoy me more than throwing away the hard-earned money of my congregation by squandering collection-plate cash on disappointing trips abroad - or bad movies. I can't imagine how angry I would have been had I spent $7 of my own money to see dreck like the deceptively titled "Tomb Raider"! Apparently, I mistook the whispers of a malignant spirit for the dulcet coo of the Holy Ghost and was coaxed into an opening day screening of a film that crassly trades on the miracle of Jesus' resurrection in hopes of emptying the pockets of the approximately 400,000,000 Christians living in this country. Playing a game as old as the dinosaurs (6,000 years ago), and first tried by the Lord in Eden when he called the "tree of eviction" the "tree of knowledge," the producers lure unsuspecting, devout Christians into the theater by giving it an enticing name that never belies the fowl stench of the ungodliness that lurkingly awaits them like death itself.

Thinking that the movie, "Tomb Raider" was going to be a historical documentary about the time when God and his angel buddies jump-started Jesus' heart 2,000 years ago and robbed His grave in the greatest "tomb raid" of all time, I went into the theater with religious anticipation. "Hollywood was finally going to do an accurate, factual, historical film about the resurrection," I thought. "They finally woke up and smelt the blood of Christ." After all, I thought, if John Travolta can make propaganda for something as outrageous as so-called "Scientology" with Battlefield Earth, isn't there room for a blockbuster about a religion for heterosexuals, too? Well, I couldn't have been more wrong!

It's been over 2,000 years and we're still talking about the angels raiding the tomb of Christ. Mark my words (Matthew, Luke and John my words, too if you like!), not even unsaved trash is going to be talking about the film, "Tomb Raider," two weeks from now. But the problem is that that is time enough for millions of American Christian children to visit their local multiplex and have their brains pumped full of the shocking sacrilege that the angels who flocked to our Savior's dead side wore shorty-shorts that would make Daisy Duke blush and tight, sleeveless t-shirts without appropriate support and concealment of their perky, nubile bosoms. Those messages will stick like last night's gum in the cranium. Innocent minds will be polluted, and Satan's team of experts in Hollywood will rejoice in turning another batch of moviegoers into an organized army of hell bound tattooed liberals.

It is obvious to a man of God like myself, trained in spiritual discernment that the very name of the main character of the film - Angelina -- should have given the whole thing away. Now, I don't know this "Angelina Jolie" young lady, but I assume that off-screen she is probably a lovely, chaste young lady in a modest Christian marriage. But the director of this movie has taken this sweet, innocent creature and forced her to do appalling, trampy things not witnessed by humanity since Mrs. Patsy Ramsey last picked up her camcorder. In scene after degrading scene, Miss Jolie acts completely inappropriate for her gender (like smart-mouthing a UPS delivery man - and winning in battles against the Lord's preferred gender, male). And I don't know which mortuary they recruited the make-up people from, but they made Miss Jolie's lips look they got stuck in the wrong end of her Electrolux last time she was sprucing up her rumpus room!

Everyone knows that angels are the only ones who have the authority to raid a tomb and help themselves to jewelry. Satan knows that too, and when he cast this movie, he made dead sure he'd hock up another wad of spit and aim it at the face of Christ by casting an "Angel-ina" to make real angels look like gender confused sluts, hopped-up on hormones, on a militant lesbian-feminist "I HATE MEN AND KILL MY BABIES" shooting rampage. Lucifer! You ain't fooling me. I know what you're up to. And I'm telling everyone what you're doing! And there ain't a thing you can do about it!

SPOILERS AHEAD, FOLKS: I'm going to give the whole movie away right now. Readers, Satan is getting his Angelina "Jollies" out of teasing Christians into seeing a film they think is about the only real "tomb raid" that ever took place. This movie is about a woman who travels back in time to steal the underwear of historical figures so she can sell them on E-Bay. She, no doubt, picked up this mercenary knack for turning the sacred into quick cash from the Roman Catholics. Jesus' t-back thong-style unmentionable is found to have so much power that simply waving it in the air can not only fend off demons and stop rivers, it can also shut MSNBC's Chris Matthews up for a full minute.

The climax of the movie is when Angelina finally enters the tomb of Christ to steal his blessed, yet alarmingly provocative loincloth. It is then that we find out about her real plan - to fill a vial around her neck with the blood of Christ! In a fiendish scheme to thwart the salvation of millions of Americans, she plans to replicate the DNA of Christ and clone millions of Jesuses, setting them loose in cities throughout the United States. She concocts this nefarious plot with the knowledge that if most modern Americans met the real Jesus they would regard Him as uncouth liberal trash, rebuff Him and thereby assure their damnation! But the Lord intervenes by replacing the blood of His Son with the blood of a scraggly, heroin addict in Hollywood who always wears a ball cap.

This movie will give you nothing but 2 hours of lustful looks, pants and skirts flying all over the place, shots of exposed knees and elbows, sexually suggestive back packs, naked statues, and the brazen harlotry and absolute gall of this "so-called" woman with the power to raid only what God has ordained the angels in heaven to raid - tombs!

The only thing inherently Christian about this movie is that it teaches the proper use of firearms in close-range, sniper rifle, and distance shooting. There are also some liberal, pansy gun safety tips (which I booed and the audience could have well done without being subjected to).

- Pastor Deacon Fred

 


 

 






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