I’d like to suggest a movie scenario to. It is the story of a young arrogant boy who insists he can single-handedly defeat his country’s greatest terrorist. He’s called on his boast. He approaches the enemy’s weapon of mass destruction with a laser beam of his own invention, and with a few blasts it is vaporized. Frightened at the prospect of imminent defeat, the enemy retreats back behind its own boundaries.
The kid is a national hero. He’s welcomed to the home of the president. Soon after, his friendship with the president’s son blossoms into an intimate (some say homosexual) relationship. Countless of the country’s rock stars compose tributes to the young hero, and cable channels praise the boy on 24-7 news cycles. He marries the president’s daughter. His popularity ratings far exceed the president’s own, and soon the president’s jealousy builds to homicidal so that the boy must flee. The president takes out a contract on the boy’s life. The plot is foiled, and in the gun battle, the president’s son is slain. And the president has a heart attack and dies.
The popularity of the boy is so great that he replaces the president. The boy has a guitar talent and appears constantly on nighttime TV playing his own compositions. One day, while sunning himself on the roof of the presidential palace, he gazes down at the mansion’s pool and spots an intern lounging poolside. The boy’s chief of staff informs him that the beauty is married to one of his generals. The boy immediately dispatches the general to the front lines, where he is quickly killed. Because his country permits multiple marriages, the intern and the boy are soon wed. Their first child dies. When the boy laments, “Why? Why?” his attorney general points out his lust and his role in the death of the general. Fast-forward. Eventually the boy will be challenged for his office unsuccessfully by one of his own sons, and upon his death, another of his sons succeeds him.
Sound like a good plot, right?
Nah, nobody would believe it.
But our biblical ancestors did. It’s the story of King David, the man said to have been the apple of God’s eye. While most of us cannot imagine a world without cell phones, emails, iPods, and DVDs, our biblical ancestors had none of the above. Their mass communication was through spoken stories and pageantry. The early tales were broadcast via fireside chats while tending sheep, conversations while on pilgrimage, or parents at the bedtime hour. By the time of Moses in the Old Testament, we are introduced to thunder and lightning, the sound of the shofar, and Ten Commandments on a stone slab. Subsequently, we added the role of the Kohen (also called the Cohen, Cohn, and Coen) to dramatize the points being made. The high priest surrounded himself with stage props such as fancy clothing, frankincense, burnt offerings, elaborate music, and fiery sacrifices — all to make a moral point.
The historian Josephus informs us that in the post-Maccabean period the high priest was seen as exercising authority in all things — political, legal, and sacerdotal. He was the supreme power. The high 8 priest of the Sanhedrin was also chief judge and president. The Kohen became producer extraordinaire. As time went by, the community added the role of the Darshan — the storyteller — interpreter of the legends. His job was to make the moral high road come alive to even the mostly ignorant listeners. A musical score was also added to the weekly scriptural reading to enhance its exposition.
Joel and Ethan Coen have become part of the same progression from priest to judge to storyteller to producer extraordinaire. Cathleen calls them secular theologians.
A careful reading of Scripture finds our fathers and mothers dealing with family, love, and marriage; revenge, faith, and fear; rehabilitation, consequences, and commitment; fantasy, sexuality, and violence; dreams, visions, and betrayal; lust, gluttony, and ego; kindness, the unknowable, and respect; compassion, pride, and adultery; murder, idolatry, and double-cross; choices, threats, and doubt. And this list is only a partial one. It’s all there in our Sacred Works. Or as Casey Stengel (a.k.a. “The Old Perfessor”) would say, “You could look it up.”
My guess is that the Coens would deny any message to their medium or that they were theologians at all (secular or otherwise.) Still, the long list of biblical plot points in the above paragraph resonates through each of their films.
Danny Siegel in his book And God Braided Eve’s Hair sets up one significant Coenesque spiritual message: “If you always assume the person sitting next to you is the Messiah waiting for some simple human kindness, you will soon come to weigh your words and watch your hands. And if he chooses not to be revealed in your time, it will not matter.” A messiah yet to be revealed in the world of the Coen brothers could be Barton Fink or Jeffrey “The Dude” Lebowski; Marge Gunderson, Sheriff Bell, or Chad Feldheimer. The chosen one could be located in the Ukraine, Washington, D.C., Arizona, or Los Angeles. But most likely, he or she is sitting right next to the Coens (and you) at this very moment.
In The Dude Abides, Cathleen refers to the commentator Rashi (an acronym for Rabbi Solomon bar Isaac), who commented on every biblical and Talmudic nuance. Cathleen has become the Rashi to the Coens’ scripture. The brothers’ cinematic oeuvre is filled with lessons learned, morals attended, and complex characters straight out of the biblical playbook. If it was only by osmosis that they incorporated their theology while daydreaming in Hebrew school in Minneapolis, we still are grateful for their training. If Joel and Ethan ever decide on pursuing second careers in theology, there are a few rabbinic schools I would like to recommend.
Rabbi Allen Secher is presently serving as rabbi for Bet Harim Jewish Community of the Flathead Valley, Montana. Ordained in 1961, Rabbi Secher has served congregations in Chicago, Los Angeles, Mexico City, New York, and Bozeman, Montana. In addition to his rabbinic work, he has been an actor, television producer, documentary filmmaker, and radio commentator.