I finally saw the movie Invictus yesterday. It stars Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela. My colleague, Michael Nel, suggested it to me. He’s from South Africa, and said it was historically accurate as well as a great leadership story.

The intentionality of Mandela’s leadership is truly impressive. And it’s fascinating to see the way he uses something that might (to some) seem trivial — rugby — to connect with people who might be afraid, angry or resentful of his leadership. Freeman’s performance is also riveting. Don’t miss it, even if you don’t care about rugby, or sports. You’ll learn something about leadership.

I just watched Traces of the Trade, a documentary by Katrina Browne, about the involvement of her New England ancestors in the slave trade. She gathered a number of extended family members who chose to explore this history together, from the family hometown of Bristol, Rhode Island, to Ghana, and to Cuba.

Most families have aspects to their history they would rather not talk about. In the case of the DeWolfs, it’s the fact their family was the largest slave-trading family in US history. The past is always present, whether we talk about it or not. It’s fascinating to watch them grapple with the story, with the varying perspectives within the group, and with the implications for current action.

I visited my parents on the trip I just took to California. My father had a DVD of the movie The Namesake. The film, directed by Mira Nair, is about a young couple, immigrants to the United States from India, and their children, especially their son Gogol (named after the Russian author). It’s a fascinating and moving tale. A colleague told me when it was first released in 1996 that I must see it. It took me a while, but I enjoyed watching a multigenerational story with my parents, especially my father, who served in India in World War II. Highly recommended.

And for Americans, this story is a good reminder that we almost all have a story of immigration somewhere back through the generations. That displacement, and how the family coped, has an impact down the generations.

What happens when you lose touch with yourself? Sunday evening my husband wanted to watch the movie The Kid (2000), starring Bruce Willis. It’s a Disney movie with some depth, about a hard-driving consultant who is shocked when his eight-year-old self (charmingly played by Spencer Breslin) shows up. In the process he is forced to face parts of his story he has forgotten, including important losses and important dreams. I’ve watched this movie at least half a dozen times, and I never get tired of it. Nice performances by Emily Mortimer, Lily Tomlin and Jean Smart, as well.

Is there a relationship between age and flexibility? What do you notice about the older people in your congregation and how you relate to them?

I’ve been watching more movies this Lent since I gave up genre fiction for the season (rather than reading more non-fiction as I had hoped…). One documentary I highly recommend is Young at Heart. It’s the story of a chorus of people in their 70s, 80s and 90s who perform songs from James Brown to the Talking Heads to Coldplay. The movie is inspiring without being sentimental. My husband, Karl (who hates sentiment), told me, “No, I don’t think I’m interested.” Lured into the living room by one of the songs he overheard, he sat down and watched straight through to the end.

The director, Bob Cilman, is in his 50s. He’s terrific at encouraging the group to try new songs and to persevere when things are difficult. One of the members describes the way they used to sing songs like “Yes, We Have No Bananas,” and over time he has led the group in some radically new directions. Some of the members prefer opera, and yet they are singing songs they themselves would never listen to.

No doubt some dropped out of the group when Cilman began to lead in some new directions. The movie doesn’t address that question. But his calm presence and ability to challenge people to do more than they thought possible is instructive. I wondered what leaders of churches filled with mostly older people might learn.

How do you assess the risks you are taking, in ministry and in life?

A few weeks ago I wrote about Laird Hamilton, the big-wave surfer. When I used him as an example in a sermon, someone recommended to me the movie Riding Giants, a documentary about big-wave surfers, including Hamilton. It’s a remarkable movie, and amazing to see the kind of risks these surfers take, truly risking their lives for their sport. Is it brave or is it foolhardy? They achieve amazing feats. And occasionally, one of them dies.

One physician interviewed, who surfs the big waves off the shore of Half Moon Bay in Northern California, says he works with cancer patients. He sees the way cancer enables them to get greater clarity about what is important to them and discard what is unnecessary. He sees surfing as doing the same thing for him.

Ministry without risk may be no ministry at all. But it’s always possible to risk everything and lose. How far we push ourselves in this direction probably has something to do with our position in our families. I suspect older children (a majority of clergy) are more inclined to play it safe.

What are your thoughts on taking risks in ministry?

I’ve been watching two TV series on DVD that are both a nice distraction, but also have some relevance to church, one silly and one more serious.

First, the BBC series Clatterford is about life in a small English village, with a focus on the women’s organization or “Guild.” The characters include a frustrated and harassed vicar, some highly eccentric women, and several generations of the local doctor’s family. The first episode is funny, and it gets even better from there. Get it from Netflix, or try your local library.

Second is the science fiction series Battlestar Galactica, a much more sophisticated remake of a 70s TV show. It’s about leadership in crisis, as well as the tensions between political and military leadership, with some family dynamics thrown in. I watched the miniseries which is the pilot instead of one of the presidential debates (true confessions). Watching some of these issues raised in a setting that is at a distance in time and space from our own helped me gain perspective. The first three seasons are available on DVD.

My daughter graduates from college tomorrow. Launching kids is a great lesson in managing boundaries. Once there was almost no boundary between us. Soon she’ll be on her own. The last 22 years have been a process of little by little firming up that boundary.

When she went to college, a young adult in a Bible study group I was leading suggested I watch the movie “Finding Nemo.” “It’s about letting go,” he said. I watched the movie, and laughed, and felt a bit freer. It might be time for me to watch the movie again.

So my answer to the question, “Can you let go?” is, “sort of.” Or, “I’m working on it.” It’s good for both of us when I can.

What about you? Where in your life are you being called to let go? To respect someone’s natural boundary? To give them room to find their own way?

I recently watched a fascinating documentary, Hiding and Seeking: Faith and Tolerance after the Holocaust, by Menachem Daum and Oren Rudavsky. Menachem Daum takes his sons to Poland to see where his own father came from and to find the Christian farmers who sheltered his father-in-law from the Nazis. I was riveted by the multigenerational dynamics, watching Daum caring for his father, and challenging his sons to open to those beyond their ultra-Orthodox world. In the brief interview with the filmmakers, cameraman Oren Rudavsky talks about the way the family knew him well and were used to the camera so felt free to be themselves as he filmed. Watching the encounter of the Daum family with the Polish family is also intriguing. Recommended.

Last night I watched the movie Nanny McPhee, starring Emma Thompson. Colin Firth plays a hapless widower with seven out-of-control children. Nanny McPhee comes in after the children have chased off seventeen nannies. She quickly whips everyone into shape. It’s a charming story. My husband, Karl, grudgingly said, “I’ll start it with you,” but he watched the whole movie.

Nanny McPhee epitomizes what Edwin Friedman called the “non-anxious presence.” I don’t actually like that phrase too much, because none of us are ever really non-anxious, especially when anxiety is high around us. I prefer the “less-anxious presence,” because most of us can lower our anxiety at least a bit if we get thoughtful about our challenges. But Nanny McPhee truly is non-anxious. Of course, she has magical powers, which doesn’t hurt.

But being less anxious actually does have a near-magical effect on us and those around us. When we calm down, we can think more clearly and see options, and so can others. People, both children and adults, behave better when anxiety is lower. We don’t need to attempt to calm others down (which takes a lot of energy). We only need to focus on ourselves. Calm, like anxiety, is contagious.