Word: christly
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...whatever the angle, the conclusion was the same. "With all of our best efforts, neither my generation nor the younger generation is going to bring utopia to earth. Only Christ will do that. We are to work at it and pray for it but ultimately and eventually utopia will only come when human nature has been transformed." Then he'd raise his arms and voice in a clarion call to the unsaved to come forward and accept Christ. He had confronted them with problems of human relations, of social inequality, of government corruption--problems that dwarf men into insignificance...
...stairs which enclose the stage front to Duncan's chamber, or the massing of figures in the several group scenes. And the special effects people do very well with difficult material: Banquo is as ghostly as anyone could ask in a green light, posed behind Macbeth's chair like Christ in The Last Supper. And the procession of silhouetted kings that show Banquo's line to be are reassuring because young Malcolm seems too wimpy to prove right royal, after having been put on at the end. With Birnam Wood, alas, all we get are a few streaky branches being...
...Doig is an incurable optimist and an incurable liberal. He believes in American democracy like a missionary believes in the goodness of Christ. He believes in the good sense of the American people. He believes that one day good would win out over evil...
...loud-shouting females who make up the "Episcopal Women's Caucus" represent no one but themselves. Had the scheme of the would-be priestesses at the recent Louisville convention [Oct. 15] been brought to fruition, the church would have split and the cause of Christ would have been dealt a grievous blow. Neither God nor the church has "turned down" these people. The church has always provided a myriad of ministries for women, which are both orthodox insofar as their theology is concerned and appropriate for the special skills and backgrounds that women alone can supply. We need nuns...
...magnificent. Slade, the rummy poet anarchist, the man who likes to pretend he watches life with cynical dispassion from the grandstand, who claims to invite and welcome death, is a role full of traps. It is hard to separate Slade's sodden grandiloquence ("Go, for the love of Christ, you mad tortured bastard, for your own sake!") from Eugene O'Neill's own penchant for overstuffing his dialogue. Ryan does it by animating and underscoring every line, each inflection with a vast, crumbling dignity, a lacerating honesty...