Dreams, Visions, Movies: Tools for Meaningful Teaching

I remember the first time I successfully helped one of my five daughters with a life problem by relating it to a movie she had seen. Sara was only five at the time, and had come to me distraught over some interaction she’d had with a sister or friend. As so often happens with parents, I was inclined to dismiss the issue as trivial, but to Sara it seemed important, and my caring side for once gained the victory over my tired, busy side.

As I struggled with how to help her understand the solution, I recognized the situation as analogous to a scene from one of her favorite movies. I walked her through the scene and asked questions about what the protagonist had done when faced with the same emotions Sara was feeling.

At first she didn’t see what I was getting at. Her face was clouded, her brow pinched. Then the moment of realization came, and the light and relief in her eyes showed me that her young mind had, for perhaps the first time, made the connection between story and real life. She saw how the movie could help her succeed.

That was a sweet moment for me as both a father and a believer in the power of story – particularly film – to have a positive influence on reality. My wife and I had decided long before that we would not introduce our children to every frivolous movie or TV show that came along, but we would try to only advocate those that were both appropriate for and useful to our family’s needs. That’s no easy goal in this media-saturated world, but we didn’t intend to put our kids in an iron box and pretend that only the stuff we approved of existed. We just wanted to conscientiously teach our children how to make good judgments by exposing them to what we considered the best. One part of that “best” definition was that the movie had to be one that could have some meaningful application to real life.

Rewind to approximately 600-592 B.C., and we can see a similar episode.

1. EXT. VALLEY OF LEMUEL – MORNING

Lehi wakes up and tells his family about a dream he’s had. As dreams frequently (in my experience) do, his has taken the form of a fantasy epic, the central players in which are the dreamer and his loved ones. As dreams less frequently do, however, this one is accompanied by revelation from the Lord. I used to wonder how to get dreams like that, but then it occurred to me that Lehi spent a significant amount of his time pondering the things of God, and his faith guided his action. So these things were already in his mind, and it should be no surprise that they manifested themselves as a dream. Maybe my dreams would be easier to interpret meaningfully if I didn’t stuff my head with so much nonsense during the day.

But the form here is significant because it shows us that spiritual communication can legitimately come through fantastical symbolism: dreary wastes, trees with magical fruit, rods of salvation, floating buildings, extreme landscapes, etc. It’s the mortal experience represented by a single journey, the primary forces involved being greed, hunger, pride, guidance, and unrecognized need. This is a formula that can be readily seen in the plots of films from any era. Lehi’s dream was a piece of narrative art designed to open his mind to the problems his family faced and the way in which to solve them. It also foretold the choices those family members would make, should they continue on their current paths.

Lehi’s response to the dream was essentially the same as my experience with my daughter. He saw the relevance of the “film” and tried to persuade his children to see it by directly likening it to their situations. It was inspired by his parental love for his family, and led to gospel instruction. 1 Nephi 8 (the chapter in which this occurs) ends this way: “And he did exhort them then with all the feeling of a tender parent, that they would hearken to his words…yea, my father did preach unto them” (verse 37).

The “them” in question, however, did not understand the message. Unlike my daughter (and Lehi’s other sons), Laman and Lemuel couldn’t see the relevance of the story. Nephi could, though, and he wanted to see that movie too. He prayed for it and:

2. EXT. UNKNOWN MOUNTAIN TOP – DAY

Nephi got more than he bargained for. Not only does he get to see his father’s dream, he gets a personalized tour of its meaning from the Spirit of the Lord. And he gets to see things beyond just that. As he knew it would be, the fantasy was high and exciting, but Nephi also gets it grounded in documentary (speaking of things to come as though they already had come), and together they help him learn what he needs.

It is not meaningless that whenever Nephi asks a question, the angel answers by saying “look!” This might just as easily be interpreted as “watch!” ”Look!” implies “see!” “See!” implies “understand!” The angel expects Nephi to get the answer to his question by the things that he sees, even though those things are not a direct depiction of that answer. Instead, they show the answer applied. The angel also asks Nephi questions to test his understanding and insight. They discuss the film. They critique it. They edify each other with their observations about it.

And it usually comes in that order: first Nephi sees, then the angel interprets, then they discuss. Only rarely does the angel preface any part of the vision, except at the beginning to prepare Nephi’s mind. This forms a model for the meaningful use of media in a family, church, or other controlled setting.

Fast-forward to today.

3. INT. HOME – WHENEVER

It’s safe to say that most of the movies we have access to in our homes don’t carry the same divine endorsement as either Lehi’s dream or Nephi’s vision, but we can apply the same methods to them, nevertheless. As I mentioned before, Lehi’s having such a dream as he did may well be attributed in part to his filling his mind with worthy thoughts and living according to Gospel principles. Likewise, the media we choose to partake of should reflect the issues relevant to responsible, thoughtful, Gospel-centered living in our day. One parental role that my wife and I take very seriously is screening any films that our kids might be interested in so that we can (1) decide whether to allow it in our home and (2) determine how best to prepare the minds of our children to receive it. We don’t try to force any interpretation on them – we want them to form their own ideas and then talk to us about them – but we might say that they should remember that some things in the movie are not real, or that some of the people who seem to be bad at first might not be as bad as they think. We want them to have an appropriate attitude and to keep an open mind, but we don’t tell them what to think of it.

Having found, by screening for our kids and by research for ourselves, media that we think will be “virtuous, lovely, or of good report, or praiseworthy,” we watch. Then at some point we discuss. This doesn’t usually happen immediately afterwards, but we have found that our kids will mention things they remember about the movie over the course of several days, and that provides us an opportunity to talk and to teach – occasionally to preach “with all the feeling of a tender parent.” My wife and I do tend to talk about films right afterward, as do most adults I’ve seen movies with. In fact, it’s odd how frequently conversations I have with extended family members turn to movies without any prompting on my part. Someone just asks a question and the debate starts.

But to make these conversations edifying, we need to cultivate Nephi’s talent of seeing beyond the surface. Near the beginning of his vision, Nephi asks to know the meaning of the tree. In answer he’s asked about the condescension of God and shown the birth of Christ. Then the angel turns it back on him and says “knowest thou the meaning of the tree?”

Nephi might then have asked, “What? That was a baby, not a tree! What do those two things have to do with one another? How am I supposed to know what the tree means by seeing that?” But he was looking beyond the events in the vision at the motives, symbols, and underlying forces. So he correctly answered that the tree was the love of God.

And yet I sometimes fear that our approach to the films we see is often of the shallower kind. We take them as pure entertainment, with no value beyond forgetting our cares for a couple of hours. Sam Goldwyn famously (reportedly) said, “Pictures are for entertainment. If you want to send a message, call Western Union.” And many of the pictures made today are made just for that. But I imagine Nephi would have us “look” more deeply anyway. He would have us probe a bit and find what good we can. Indeed, thinking there may be good to be gained from a film should be a precondition to our ever watching it in the first place. So the Goldwyn philosophy becomes inherently irrelevant to a Latter-day Saint audience. As Davey Morrison suggests, however, any film can legitimately be given a reading through the lens of faith, regardless of whether it was intended for that purpose.

Does that mean that much of the “good” we find in film is made up? Maybe. But so is the film, so what does it matter? The point is that if we’re going to give such a reading to a film (and I believe we should where we can), we can also use it as a means to meaningful teaching in the home and elsewhere.