Tim Allen's Low-Key Search for God

In praise of slow conversion stories

Christians can get a little too excited about celebrities. I say this in love. It comes from a good-hearted place, because we really do earnestly desire that all men should be saved. But if the man (or woman) happens to be a Professionally Cool Person, we might as well admit that we secretly do think that would be a little bit extra cool, because we’re only human. Unfortunately, this goodhearted enthusiasm can lead us to grasp at straws, and occasionally to get sucker punched. (Kanye West. Need I say more?)

Don’t get me wrong: If Nicki Minaj wants to use her platform to speak out for persecuted Christians in Nigeria, I approve. I’m…not exactly sure what else she’s tweeting about these days, but it sounds sort of cool in an ominous way. That post appears to be some kind of Christian imprecation against this year’s Grammy Awards. Then again, her Twitter bio still advertises her own latest record, featuring lyrics so pornographic you don’t even want me to give vague summaries here (really, you don’t). People have noted this while questioning the wisdom of having Erika Kirk interview her at the last TPUSA shindig. They have a point.

Speaking of the Grammys, for all Nicki’s imprecations that ceremony actually did yield a surprising “God moment” from the country artist known as Jelly Roll, who gave an admittedly heartfelt shout-out to Jesus while accepting his award for the album Beautifully Broken. There seems to have been a lot going on in this gentleman’s life, and his lately acquired public Christian passion seems sincere. I like a nice gritty redemption story as much as anyone, although disappointment can tend to lurk around the corner with such things (again, see Kanye West). I’m not entirely sure what all is going on with Sir Jelly either, but I wish him only the best.

Still, I confess I tend to err on the side of curmudgeonliness around such things, and the splashier the alleged “conversion” arc, the more curmudgeonly I get. This may be unworthy of me, but I don’t think it’s always unfounded. Perhaps the splashiest recent example is Russell Brand, a British entertainer who’s built a large transatlantic media following. Brand has shared lengthy theological reflections, been photographed baptizing people in his underwear, and led prayer at right-wing political rallies. I’m not alone in smelling something a bit off in all this, particularly in light of the fact that the man has accumulated multiple sexual offense charges (including minors). For similar reasons, my antennae were similarly twitchy when Shia LaBeouf announced his conversion to Catholicism. It’s not that I doubt the reach of God’s saving arm, or the power of the gospel to convict sinners. It’s just that when it comes to people who perform in public for a living, I seek evidence that this sort of thing is more than performance art. As my friend Ben Sixsmith once quipped about Brand, “I have the mean suspicion that if Mr. Brand embraced humility, it would inspire him to launch on online course on ‘How to Be More Humble’.” Ben is not a Christian himself, but he’s gathered enough to be confident that “it’s not like becoming a fan of Man United.” Shouldn’t it involve a little less, er, branding, a little more private reflection and Bible reading?

Which brings me to Tim Allen.