13 Reasons Why: A Review…Kind Of…

[Caveat: There are some spoilers ahead!]

After reading comments about the show on my Facebook newsfeed, I decided to watch Netflix’s newly released 13 Reasons Why. The show is a dramatic adaptation of a novel by the same title, written by Jay Asher, in which high schooler Clay Jensen receives a set of thirteen cassette tapes that explain why his crush Hannah Baker decided to commit suicide. The thirteen reasons correspond to thirteen people who, in some way, caused her to end her life. To say that the series is emotionally draining is a bit of an understatement. As a father of a newly born daughter, watching Hannah have to deal with being called a slut, being stalked, sexually assaulted, raped, and winding up unable to view herself as loveable, I found myself having to confront a reality that young women face very often during the most formative years of their life. And as father of three boys, one who is only several years away from starting high school, I was forced to confront the reality that boys, in many cases, are capable of doing serious emotional damage to their female peers.

The show, in that sense, is good. It holds up a mirror to its adult and youth viewers alike. It openly identifies the maltreatment of one’s neighbor as immoral (“wrong” is the word the characters use) and urges viewers, by showing them the possible consequences of sinning against one’s neighbor, to act differently by not ignoring a child’s cry for help simply because it is coming from an otherwise immature individual, to not engage in spreading rumors about one’s peers, and to stand up for those who are oppressed, bullied, taken advantage of by the more powerful.

Scattered throughout the series, you’ll hear students and parents alike give cliched responses to Hannah’s suicide that are thoughtless and cruel. Statements like “She killed herself to get attention” or “She acted selfishly by killing herself” convict the conscience of anyone who has ever nonchalantly theorized about the suicide of someone they knew personally or through popular culture. I’ve done it. You’ve done it. I’ve said things of the same nature. You probably have as well. And 13 Reasons Why shows why such statements are merely the continuation of the same kind of neglect and minimization of the pain of our peers that can, in some cases, lead to suicide.

Some characters even offer up the saying “She decided to end her life! It isn’t your fault” as a means of justifying their sin. And to some extent, this is true: Everyone is ultimately accountable for their sin. However, listen to the Lord Jesus’ warning in Matthew 18:5-7:

“Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.”

What is of relevance here is the implied assertion that one can cause another to sin. Suicide is a sin, to be sure, but those who commit the sin are, in many cases, caused/influenced to sin in that way.

The Problems with 13 Reasons

It’s hard to say that I enjoyed the show. That seems to suggest I liked watching children abuse another child to such an extent that she killed herself. It’s better to say that I appreciated it. The visual representation of the past as more vibrant through brighter, warmer, and varied colors stands in sharp contrast to the cold, darker, less saturated present in which Clay goes through Hannah’s tapes. In the present, a blue tint dominates every object and every person’s face, suggesting that a kind of death rests on them too. Artistically, the show is done very well.

Morally, the show brings up some very important issues that often get swept under the rug via the use of cliches and empty well-wishing. Problematically, however, the show represents “normal” teenage life as consisting of underage drinking, sexual intercourse, cursing, using the Lord’s name in vain, recreational drug use, and homosexuality mostly done by kids’ whose parents are well aware of these behaviors. Teens will seek out ways of doing what they want, irrespective of what their parents tell them is right, of course. But throughout the show, the children whose parents discipline them (i.e. Zach, Jessica, and Alex) are strict disciplinarians whose behavior, it seems to be insinuated, caused their children to hide their sins, as well as their troubles, from their parents.

Even more problematically, culturally speaking the show deals with a real problem – viz. Innocent children dying at the hands of those who ignore their humanity, or who think seeing another as human would be too difficult and discomforting of a thing for them to do – that happens thousands of times a day in the private offices of so-called abortion “clinics.” Viewers are quick to empathize with Clay as he sets up Bryce (Hannah’s rapist) to admit to his crime, as they are also quick to empathize with Hannah’s parents who seek to fully prosecute the negligent and callous school officials who were actually aware of Hannah’s previously expressed desire to “not feel anything anymore” and “make it all stop” and did nothing to help her. Yet these same viewers will also support the legalized murdering of children much younger and innocent, socially speaking, than any high schooler.

If Hannah’s love sought to destroy her rapist, will not God seek to destroy his bride’s (i.e. the church’s) abusers? He will. And if Hannah’s parents seek to prosecute those who caused her to sin (by suicide) to the fullest extent of the law, will not God prosecute his enemies to the fullest extent of his holy and eternal law? He will. Lastly, if the death of a sinful teenager at the hands of other sinners is unjust enough for even the godless to see, isn’t it much more unjust and wicked for sinners to kill unborn children who have not even been delivered from the womb of their mothers? It is. And if those who killed the innocent Hannah, by indirect means, are to be held accountable for their crime, then will not the judge of all the earth hold accountable those who directly murder the most helpless and innocent among us, viz. infants? He will.

The Murdering of an Innocent Person

Additionally, although 13 Reasons Why correctly identifies the actions of Hannah’s peers as the murder of an innocent person (Tony says: “We all killed Hannah!”), it doesn’t identify suicide as itself a form of murdering the innocent. Hannah’s suicide is, ultimately, not justifiable before God. Augustine, speaking on the subject of Lucretia’s rape and subsequent suicide in his book City of God, makes the following observations. [This a long quotation, but it’s very relevant to the heartbreaking situation Hannah finds herself in after she has been raped by Bryce.]

We maintain that when a woman is violated [i.e. raped] while her soul admits no consent to the iniquity, but remains inviolably chaste, the sin is not hers, but his who violates her. …all know how loudly [the ancient Romans] extol the purity of Lucretia, that noble matron of ancient Rome. When King Tarquin’s son had violated her body [i.e. raped her], she made known the wickedness of this young profligate to her husband Collatinus, and to Brutus her kinsman, men of high rank and full of courage, and bound them by an oath to avenge it. Then, heart-sick, and unable to bear the shame, she put an end to her life.

What shall we call her? An adulteress, or chaste? There is no question which she was. Not more happily than truly did a declaimer say of this sad occurrence: “Here was a marvel: there were two, and only one committed adultery.” Most forcibly and truly spoken. For this declaimer, seeing in the union of the two bodies the foul lust of the one, and the caste will of the other, and giving heed not to the contact of the bodily members, but to the wide diversity of their souls, says: “There were two, but the adultery was committed only by one.”

But how is it, that she who was no partner to the crime bears the heavier punishment of the two? For the adulterer [Sextus] was only banished along with his father; she suffered the extreme penalty [of death, by her own hand]. If that was not impurity by which she was unwillingly ravished then this is not justice by which she, being chaste, is punished.

To you I appeal, ye laws and judges of Rome. Even after the perpetration of great enormities, you do not suffer the criminal to be slain untried. If, then, one were to bring to your bar this case, and were to prove to you that a woman not only untired, but chaste and innocent, had been killed, would you not visit the murder with punishment proportionately severe? This crime [i.e. self-murder] was committed by Lucretia; that Lucretia so celebrated and lauded slew the innocent, chaste, outraged Lucretia. Pronounce sentence. But if you cannot, because there does not appear any one whom you can punish, why do you extol with such unmeasured laudation her who slew an innocent and chaste woman? Assuredly you will find it impossible to defend her before the judges of the realms below, if they be such as your poets are fond of representing them.

Or perhaps she is not there, because she slew herself conscious of guilt, not of innocence? She herself alone knows her reason; but what if she was betrayed by the pleasure of the act, and gave some consent to Sextus, though so violently abusing her, and then was so affected with remorse, that she thought death alone could expiate her sin? Even [if] this were the case, she still ought to have held her hand from suicide, if she could with her false gods have accomplished a fruitful repentance.

However, if such were the state of the case, and if it were false that there two but only committed adultery; if the truth were that both were involved in it, one by open assault, the other by secret consent, then she did not kill an innocent woman; and therefore her erudite defenders maintain that she is not among that class of the dwellers below “who guiltless sent themselves to doom.”

But this case of Lucretia is in such a dilemma, that if you extenuate the homicide,  you confirm the adultery; if you acquit her of adultery, you make the charge of homicide heavier; and there is no way out of the dilemma, when one asks, ‘If she was adulterous, why praise her? if chaste, why slay her?’

Like Lucretia, Hannah was raped. Like Lucretia, Hannah had no pleasure in the act of sexual intercourse with her rapist. Like Lucretia, in other words, Hannah was innocent of the sin of sex outside of the ordained parameters of a monogamous marriage. Yet, like Lucretia, Hannah took her own life. And by so doing, she committed an act of murder.

I mention this only to point out that 13 Reasons Why, as most people in our era, fails to identify suicide also as an immoral action. While some can be caused to sin, as I noted, that doesn’t make their sin any less sinful. By not identifying suicide as an immoral action, the show contradicts its overall moral axiom: “It is always wrong to take the life of an innocent person, whether directly or indirectly.”

What’s Missing from 13 Reasons Why

The Good News of 13 Reasons Why is that Hannah’s peers and elders are aware of their evil and, therefore, will seek to be better people. But is this good news? How can a Hannah know that she is not impure because she has been raped? How can a Hannah know that she is more valuable than any of the world’s material and immaterial possessions? Through social reform that does not change the murderous intentions deeply rooted in all the fallen sons and daughters of Adam?

13 Reasons Why offers a very needed rebuke to the hypocrisy of our age, but it also perpetuates that hypocrisy by not identifying the murdering of infants (via abortion) and self-murder (i.e. suicide) for what they are: The murdering of innocent individuals. But it also offers a false hope through the death of Hannah (Heb. “Grace”). It ultimately has to find human worth in one’s relationships (e.g. Hannah’s parents & Clay), a tenuous network of sinners which can fall apart just as Hannah’s small circle of friends did.

The real Gospel, thankfully, gives us real grace through the death of the Son of God. Christ did not kill himself, but offered himself up as a sacrifice for sinners. The innocent Son of God was lied about, betrayed by his friend, abandoned by his other friends, cursed at, spit upon, beaten, stripped naked, nailed to a cross that was hoisted up in the air high enough to be seen by all his peers from miles away, mocked in his suffering, and killed. And he did this to satisfy the justice of God due to sinners.

The cross shows us that Christ is not unacquainted with the very kinds of humiliation and suffering that Hannah is depicted as having experienced. Christ knew no sin, yet there he was suffering the death of a criminal, treated as the scum of society. The cross shows us, too, that God will execute judgment upon those who despise his image bearers – men and women alike. Rapists will receive their punishment, if they do not repent and turn to Christ in faith. Liars, gossips, slanderers, adulterers, negligent authorities – these will all bear the wrath of God eternally. None will escape, ever.

13 Reasons Why cannot give a person struggling with suicidal ideation hope that lasts. However, the Gospel can. 13 Reasons Why cannot give that person any true lasting sense of worth that does not, in the end, depend on what others think of her. But the Christian faith can and does by telling us we are the image of God, more valuable than everything else in the created material world. By the very fact that you and I exist, we are valuable. By the very fact that you and I are valuable, those who cause us to sin will be punished with a punishment corresponding to our value before God, not mere temporary death or imprisonment.

Looking to Jesus, hanged on the cross unjustly for our sins, we can see that God punishes sin. God will deal with his enemies in a perfectly just manner, even if we cannot see it now. Similarly, God also grants real grace to those whose sins put Christ on the cross. Acknowledge your sin before God, that you put an innocent man to death. Repent. Be forgiven. Receive hope not merely in this life, which is passing away, but in the eternal, everlasting God who loves sinners and calls them to be cleansed of their guilt and shame, and be covered with the purity of his sinless Son.

Soli Deo Gloria


Non-Neutrality: A Personal Testimony [Pt. 9]

epicurus-3.jpgComfort, Nothing, and Fear of Death

When I was younger, during times of deep depression and suicidal ideation, I found comfort in death. I was under the impression that my consciousness, and by implication my psychological and emotional turmoil, would cease. I would have peace once and for all.

But would I?

Over the years, I began to reason more clearly.

If death is the cessation of my conscious existence, then it follows that being-dead is not something I will experience.

And if I will not experience being-dead, then death is neither something to be welcomed nor something to be feared.

Since I won’t exist to experience being-dead, then it is irrational to fear or hope in my annihilation.

So this gave me neither peace nor anxiety – I felt what I anticipated: Nothing. The Epicureans believed that in discovering that death was nothing to be feared, one would find ataraxia, a kind of peace resultant from freedom from distress and worry. But it didn’t. It just made every thought, word, and deed pointless – neither good nor bad.

This changed, however, as I continued to reflect on God’s justice in Genesis 3. I couldn’t shake the idea that I was somehow a character in a similar story, if not another chapter in the Bible. I heard the voice of God thundering in my conscience, but I hid myself within creation, pretending to not be the image of God, even as Adam hid himself among the trees. I justified my behavior by appealing to “natural” instincts, even as Adam covered his nakedness with the leaves of the trees among which he hid himself. And I continued to place the blame on others who bear the image of God.

My desire to become one with creation, to become a guiltless cog in the machinery of the universe was an impossible task, I soon discovered. There were no neutral behaviors, since I would be affecting someone somewhere in some way by whatever I chose to do. This, coupled with the fact that I cannot know when I will die, made me fear death. I knew that I deserved death, and more than merely physical death, for the things I had done in my past, and for the things I would do in the future. Athenagoras, the 2nd century Christian apologist, summarizes some of what I was thinking at the time:

the robber, or ruler, or tyrant, who has unjustly put to death myriads on myriads, could not by one death make restitution for these deeds; and the man who holds no true opinion concerning God, but lives in all outrage and blasphemy, despises divine things, breaks the laws commits outrage against boys and women alike, razes cities unjustly, burns houses with their inhabitants, and devastates a country, and at the same time destroys inhabitants of cities and peoples, and even an entire nation-how in a mortal body could he endure a penalty adequate to these crimes, since death prevents the deserved punishment, and the mortal nature does not suffice for any single one of his deeds? It is proved therefore, that neither in the present life is there a judgment according to men’s deserts, nor after death.

[On the Resurrection, emphasis mine.]

If justice were meted out to me by God, how could it consist in merely one death? Had I not abandoned my atheistic doctrine of atonement because of the fact that my own guilt was nearly impossible to calculate, being as great as it was? I had. I understood that if I was responsible for my direct and indirect actions toward God and neighbor, my recompense would be eternal.

I saw death around each corner, haunted by sporadic images of my car veering off the road, crashing, and killing me. I went to sleep knowing that there was no way for me to know if I would die that night. And if I died, I deserved whatever was coming to me. I wasn’t a Christian, but I was moving toward a general belief in God.

If I am guilty for acting against my neighbor, and this act causes them to act out against another, and this chain of effects continues on through the rest of the history of humanity, would this not, in some sense, be my fault?

It would.

And if it were my fault, which it would be, would I not be justly condemned to punishment for my transgressions’ direct and indirect effects?

I would.

And would not perfect justice require compensation for hatred, physical violence, lust, backsliding, slothfulness, covetousness, and blasphemy be recompensed to the full?

It would.

Now, supposing that men live on after death in some way, would it also not follow that whatever retributive justice is dealt to them by “God” has been earned in part because of me?

It would.

Would it not, therefore, be the case that I would be the recipient of a punishment due to one who has caused others to perish in hell?

It would.

I found myself thinking about “God,” mentally scribbling scare quotes around who I knew was real, present, and warning me of oncoming judgment.

[Continued in Pt. 10]

Biblical Trinitarian: The Presbyterian Philosopher: The Authorized Biography of Gordon H. Clark [Book Review]

Clarkbookthrough apologetical issues, has continued to be a great source of encouragement. So I was very excited to find out that Douglas J. Douma (who blogs at A Place for Thoughts) was writing an authorized biography on one of the greatest Christian thinkers of our time.

I waited eagerly for the book, and was not disappointed once it was published! I’m not a fan of biographical writing, but Douma’s book drew me in and kept my attention. At 318 pages, the book is thorough. But time flies while reading it. If you want to know more, check out my book review over at Biblical Trinitarian. And purchase the book on Amazon or any other store :)

Solus Christus


Source: Biblical Trinitarian: The Presbyterian Philosopher: The Authorized Biography of Gordon H. Clark [Book Review]

No, The Prophets Were Not Epileptics

[Spoiler Alert: I break down and give away the first season in the opening paragraph.]

Screenshot 2017-03-26 at 8

Judge Pernell Harris being monitored by neurologists.

Amazon recently released the second season of Hand of God, a show whose first season I’ve reviewed in the past. Hand of God is about a judge who believes he is getting messages from God which will help him save his son’s life. Judge Harris speaks in tongues, has visions, and receives audible directions which actually do lead him to uncover many things about what really happened to his son, a young entrepreneur who allegedly attempted to kill himself. However, by the end of the first season his son, who was in a coma, dies.

Harris, who thought God promised to save his son from death, loses faith in God. Season two follows a disillusioned Judge Harris who is trying, among other things, to find out why he is experiencing what he once thought were supernatural revelations from God. Harris’ disillusionment with the idea that he is receiving divine revelation leads him to seek out a neurological expert for help. The doctor, an agnostic it seems, says he believes Harris’s visions, like the visions of Moses and other religious figures in history, are really epileptic episodes.

derpy neets
Nietzsche, like his Romanticist contemporaries, identified the prophetic with mental illness/madness.

A Fascinating Theory?

What is fascinating about the “Visions = Epilepsy” theory isn’t its ability to naturalistically explain away supernatural revelation. It doesn’t actually do that, like, at all. No, what is fascinating about the theory is that it flies in the face of what is actually written in the Scriptures about Moses’ experiences with the Lord. You see, while Moses’ first experience with Yahweh is a private matter (see Exodus 3), his later experiences of communing with God, hearing from God, and performing miracles are public matters. Unlike the ancient and modern pagan “seers” who rely on hallucinogenic drugs and self-induced trances (via mantra repetition, for example), Moses, Israel, and even the enemies of God came into direct contact with Yahweh, the Lord of lords.

Moses’ interaction with the Lord differed in some respects from that which the others experienced (e.g. compare Numbers 12:6-8 & Exodus 33:12-34:8), but it was not absolutely distinct from that of the people of Israel. God’s self-disclosure is, in other words, consistent. Moses could not start saying things that were outside of the character of God’s self-revelation, which was itself, at least to some extent, a matter of public knowledge (see Exodus 1:15-21).

What’s more, the Lord’s dealings with Moses and Israel were in accord with his dealings with the patriarchs of Genesis. There is an unbroken succession of individuals and their families who individually and collectively encounter Yahweh, speak with him, know him. God has consistently revealed himself to individuals and families as early as Genesis 1. In Genesis 3, in fact, he shows up in person, the pre-incarnate Son of God walks in the garden and talks with his creation.


So upon what basis do some speculate that Moses’ experiences were the fruit of a neurological malady? The answer is simple: They simply assume that is the case. Rather than giving any textual evidence of Moses being an epileptic, they assume that whatever he experienced was not of divine origin. Rather than listening to the Word of God foretell the coming Messiah in painstaking detail, those promoting the “Visions = Epilepsy” theory assume they are not of divine origin, assume that they are of the same value as any other purported visions from any other religion, and then make assertions.

Were the prophets of the Bible epileptics? No. The prophets of the Bible were men who had the onerous task of serving as God’s representative, bringing to men messages about repentance and judgment that were usually unwelcome by those to whom they were sent. The prophets’ words came to pass, and the Lord’s Word was accompanied by signs and wonders which made it clear to the people that these men were not hallucinating or imagining that God was speaking to them. And just as Hand of God and other contemporary “demythologizers” of the Bible ignore the Biblical prophets’ words, choosing instead to attribute their warnings and admonitions to madness, so too did their forefathers in unbelief (cf. Jeremiah 29:26; 2nd Kings 9:11; Hosea 9:7).

The true madness we can observe in all of this, however, is this:

Fallen men think they will escape the judgment of God by ignoring his Word, or by some other means than faith in the sacrificial death of Jesus Christ, who suffered in the place of sinners in order to remove their sin debt and reconcile them to God.

Rest assured, they will not.

Soli Deo Gloria