I just returned from an inspiring afternoon with a few hundred people, interacting around the topics of the gospel and social justice, and I wanted to take a moment and share why I'm so passionate about this topic, and hence the book I've just written.  My hope and prayer is that this new book finds its way into many hands because I believe that millions are floundering in their faith, or on the sidelines, or simply having the wrong conversations because they've not yet truly grasped the significance of the incredible life to which we're called in Christ.

The book, as many of you already know, is called The Colors of Hope.  You can read a free chapter here.  You can join a Facebook discussion here.  But before you do any of that, I thought answering a few questions would be a helpful:

Gran Torino is simple but smart. Most of the plot unfolds in a leisurely and predictable manner. Critics have described it as “Dirty Harry gets old and cranky.” It is easy (and foolish) to dismiss the elderly as irrelevant or immigrants as ignorant. It is also foolish to underestimate the dramatic power of Gran Torino. Younger moviegoers desperately need the initiation rites and religious ruminations offered by the 78-year old director (and star!), Clint Eastwood.

Gran Torino continues Eastwood’s cinematic dance with the Catholic Church. In Mystic River (2003), an entire community wrestled with unsettling secrets. The movie poster announced the theme: “We bury our sins, we wash them clean.” In Million Dollar Baby (2004), Eastwood’s washed up boxer, Frankie Dunn, engages in an ongoing ethical debate with a priest in his local parish. It served as a timely commentary upon the controversy surrounding Teri Schiavo and her right to live (or die). Eastwood leans into messy, ethical dilemmas, both acknowledging and challenging church teaching. (For more on both of these haunting films, see my new book, Into the Dark).

Eastwood wrestles with mortality in Gran Torino. We first see Korean war veteran Walt Kowalksi at his wife’s funeral. A young priest piles on platitudes that fail to move Walt. Afterwards, the earnest and inexperienced Father Janovich fulfills her dying wish, inviting Walt to confession. But Kowalski can’t imagine confiding in a person who doesn’t deserve his respect. The burden on Walt’s soul feels far too substantial for such a lightweight cleric.

Amidst substantive spiritual questions, Gran Torino offers plenty of lacerating laughs. The cantankerous Kowalski spews racist comments toward his Hmong neighbors that violate all notions of political correctness. Such blatant bigotry is rarely heard in our public entertainments. Yet, first-time screenwriter Nick Schenk revels in Walt’s rough edges. Gran Torino violates all kinds of conventional wisdom in Hollywood, pitting a lonely, irascible widower against a family of immigrants. Eastwood dares to cast unknown actors like Bee Vang in crucial roles. And yet, Gran Torino works as a litany of sacrifice. Only Eastwood’s considerable leverage could get such a modest and miraculous film made.