By KATE FORRISTALL - Special to The Star

As an evangelical Christian, and member of the group once described as "poor, uneducated and easily led," I've waded into my share of disagreements, both in and out of the church. I've despaired of seeing accurate portrayals of people of faith, in TV and film, and I've cringed at behavior so fanatic and dysfunctional that the movies couldn't match it.

So it was with no little anticipation that I read about Kevin Smith's movie, "Dogma," last week. Though I suspected, from comments I'd read in the past, that Smith had a very real faith, I had also seen his three previous films and wondered just how he would tackle a subject with so many hot buttons.

Armed with a fistful of scalping money, I headed down to Lincoln Center for the sold-out film festival screening Oct. 5. While waiting outside, I stood across from protesters singing, praying and holding signs like "Dogma Must Go," and police whose job it was to protect us from them. When a woman walked past holding a ticket, I nabbed her and felt slightly let down when she only asked for the $14 face value. As I headed in to find my seat, I thought for the first time in my life where I would hide if someone stood up and started shooting during the movie.

In the post-screening Q&A, Smith responded to a question about the protests that have dogged his film by commenting that the protesters outside seemed sweet and were conducting a peaceful crusade. However, since the film had only begun to see the light of day, he supposed that none of them had actually seen it. If the theater hadn't been packed, he said, he'd have liked to invite them in to try to change a few minds.

He'd have changed more than a few.

Had they bought tickets, the protesters would have seen a film so openly reverent and worshipful of the Almighty that, apart from the untold number of swear words and Jason Mewes' hilarious dialogue, could be used as an evangelical recruiting video. For in the tradition of Walker Percy, another provocative Catholic, Smith has exposed the frail humanity of religious institutions and their entirely mortal inhabitants while revealing the infinite mercy of a loving creator.

Those who would be offended (or delight) that the Catholic Church happens to be his target, should beware. Any denomination could have been his target with little reworking of the script. Smith, a still-active Catholic, simply chose the one he knew the most about.

Like him, Linda Fiorentino's character, Bethany, is still attending Mass every week, and she tithes from her job at an abortion clinic. Though she tells a co-worker she thinks God is dead, it soon becomes clear that her statement is less a declarative and more a wish that God would prove her wrong. When she is told by Chris Rock, playing the keen-eyed 13th apostle, Rufus, that God has a very specific purpose for her life, she is utterly dumbfounded and then angry. Her furious demands to understand the God she worships are reminiscent of Jacob's wrestling with the angel and will bring every believer who has walked through the fire of doubt to tears.

Rufus, our human, though dead, eyewitness to the life of Christ, is the fly on the wall Smith obviously wishes he could have been. The Jesus Rufus describes is painfully human, fully divine and a good listener. Magnetic enough to keep Rufus celibate during his stint as an apostle, Jesus, Rufus says, would get a funny smile on his face whenever the apostles started talking about unimportant things.

"Maybe it had something to do with knowing when he was going to die," Rufus sagely observes, "but Christ had this vitality that I've never encountered in another person since." Too much gravitas to be the "Buddy Christ," George Carlin's cardinal wants to make him, this portrait of Jesus rings true as that of a Savior so compelling that people laid down their lives with nary a backward glance to follow him.

Azrael and Serendipity, two former muses, played by Jason Lee and Salma Hayek, are written to show the many faces of good and evil. Though she left heaven to "do her own work," after tiring of inspiring others, Serendipity now finds herself earthbound, with writer's block and reduced to working in a strip joint.

Azrael, who refused to choose sides and fight in Lucifer's uprising against God, making an interesting point about sins of omission, was banished to hell, a place in which Smith appears to have an unfashionable belief. So awful is his existence, Azrael tells us, that he would rather see himself and all of creation obliterated than continue to live there.

"Once, hell was nothing more than the absence of God," Azrael says, "and if you'd ever been in his presence, you'd realize that's punishment enough."

Azrael's cruelty and self-justification are in stark contrast to Serendipity's matter-of-fact acceptance of her fate. Those who would protest Smith's choice of a profession for her would do well to remember the Old Testament story of Rahab the harlot, hider of Joshua's spies during their first trip into the promised land. Rewarded with protection for herself and her family while the rest of the city was destroyed, she earned a place in the genealogy of Jesus in the book of Matthew and a mention as one of the heroes of the faith in the book of Hebrews. Happily Serendipity's efforts on Bethany's behalf bring her a similar fate.

The angels Bartleby and Loki, whose mission to get back into heaven drives the story, are entirely believable as beings who have seen the face of God and will now do anything to be in his presence once again. The end of the movie, which one critic dubbed as "unnecessarily violent," is, in fact, entirely appropriate as an example of angelic pride and vengeance gone horribly wrong. "It's always the humans, Loki. They were given paradise; they threw it away. They were given this planet; they destroyed it. They were favored best among all his endeavors; and some of them don't even believe he exists," growls Ben Affleck's angel when he observes the sin and wickedness of humanity in its utter disdain for a patient, loving, heavenly Father.

Or Mother. For in yet another twist, Smith has chosen to portray his God as a woman. Why this would offend anyone who reads the Bible is impossible to understand, for though Jesus referred to God as his Father, countless times he is also described as a Mother. In this debate, I defer to the wisdom of my 5-year-old son who told me he'd been talking to God and then asked if he was a girl or a boy. Without waiting for my answer, he said, I think he's both a he and a she, which squares with Smith's characters referring to God as a he, in spite of Alanis Morissette playing the role. Out of the mouths of babes and 20-something filmmakers comes faith that "Dogma's" many critics would do well to emulate.

Percy's book Love in the Ruins was subtitled The Adventures of a Bad Catholic at a Time Near the End of the World and is no less shocking in its ungentle stabs at orthodoxy. Yet he receives frequent mention as one of the heroes of the godless literati while a whole new crop of unorthodox believers has gone unheralded. Though they do not fit the typical mold of Christian evangelist, this new breed is no less devout, and we question their motives and beliefs at our own peril. When Jesus began his public ministry, his methods were dubbed madness and he turned every taboo in the established church/temple on its head, often to his disciples' dismay. Yet each new breath of God's spirit that doesn't fit into the traditional church-shaped box is attacked by defenders of the status quo as if his existence depended on it. No movie or piece of art could ever capture perfectly, his essence and holiness. Each creative vision is poured through the vessel of an imperfect human. There are bound to be errors and missteps.

But when we attack rather than embrace a movie so sincere in an age of such superficiality, we have shown ourselves to be far less sure that Jesus was who he said he was than Kevin Smith appears to be. That a young filmmaker with a solid fan base, two genuine hits and a gift for screenwriting would choose to make a movie so contrary to the prevailing wisdom in Hollywood is a marvel in which believers should rejoice.

In the weeks preceding his film's release, reporters gave Smith ample opportunity to take potshots at his detractors. Resisting at every turn, he even declined comment on the evening I heard him. In the midst of his verbose and witty monologue that had the audience laughing aloud, he said, unembarrassed, "As a Christian I'm supposed to turn the other cheek."

A merry heart is good medicine ... and a gentle answer turns away wrath, says the book of Proverbs.

What say we all drop our stones and go home?

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