White Dove Trivia Quiz

Answer: They went silent

Yes, this really did happen, much as it sounds like a "National Enquirer" headline. We'll get into it further down. Admittedly, perhaps it would seem more intuitive to talk about doves in the context of Prince's famous "When Doves Cry," given that they're both mentioned in the song lyrics and actually seen in the music video. And an analytical look at what doves represent there would be a perfectly fine and interesting conversation to have. But more intriguing, perhaps, and the primary interest here, is the two real-life white doves Prince kept as pets.

Just for good measure, however, it is worth noting a little more about "When Doves Cry." This song was written in 1984 -- not only for the album "Purple Rain," but also for the semi-biographical film of the same name. The song itself quite possibly wouldn't have come about had the film's producer not come to Prince to ask if he could provide one more number for the soundtrack. And there are a few short lines that do actually have some relevance here, if indirectly: "Maybe I'm just too demanding/ Maybe I'm just like my father, too bold/ Maybe you're just like my mother/ She's never satisfied/ Why do we scream at each other?/ This is what it sounds like when the doves cry."

Looking at the overall song, it's pretty clear that it's a lament of the falling apart of a relationship. And if the above lyrics are any indication, the singer muses that he and his lover are acting like his own parents did to one another. So it's also no great stretch to see the comparison: The notion, and the sound, of two lovers yelling at each other is just as dissonant, jarring, as would be that of crying doves.

So anyway, as a person, Prince was generally quite private about his life, but by all accounts he was deeply spiritual and believed in and advocated for people to love and be kind to one another, for peaceful reconciliation rather than warring and fighting, and so on. And while nobody has an exact idea of when he first conceived of using a dove as imagery in his music, he would have been abundantly aware -- as is everyone -- of the dove as a universal symbol of peace.

Evidently he grew so fond the gentle creatures that, a few years after his song, he bought two white doves, named them Majesty and Divinity, and kept them as his beloved pets. The one called Majesty made an appearance in at least one of his music videos; in a cute 'tribute,' the doves even received a "personnel" credit on one album, for "ambient singing." But these factoids are just to add a little interest. (And no, the birds were never renamed "The Doves Formerly Known as Majesty and Divinity"...)

But here's what's truly interesting. In 2016, Prince's sister Tyka mentioned to "Vanity Fair" that in the weeks and months after his death, the two white doves went silent. The staff at his estate had informed her, and she went to confirm it. And there in their atrium, they made no sound. They'd just stopped cooing. And make no mistake: Doves, when they vocalize, are not sad; but they are absolutely capable of *feeling* sadness, as are almost all animals. So anyway, what turned out to be the solution? Tyka suggested the staff play some of Prince's songs. And shortly thereafter, the two white doves perked right back up and began cooing away once more.

(Credit to ThisIsDig.com and "Vanity Fair" for info about Prince and the doves, and to AZLyrics for the song lyrics.)

Answer: "With the broken wing"

The complete line of Walter, the character in question, is: "Follow the white dove with the broken wing." This line also doubles as the episode's title.

"Route 66" was interesting for a TV show of the early '60s -- or for any decade, really. Two friends, Tod and Linc, traverse the U.S. in a Corvette, finding adventure along the iconic highway known as Route 66. Rather than have some overarching plot, this was more of an anthology series, with each story being self-contained and filmed on-location in a different, specifically chosen part of the U.S., so local cultures, landscapes and social issues were authentically represented. As the friends went from town to town, it became clear that the series had a strong focus on themes of loneliness, search for identity, and the changing American landscape.

Walter, the troubled young man, is shown to us as someone who is often shunned and ostracized. When he does try to make friends or join in social scenes, nobody really pays him much mind -- everyone *thinks* he's odd, or awkward, or a misfit, and they treat him accordingly -- and then that feeds right into his own self-perception, that there *really is* something wrong with him. One evening, after yet another rejection at a local hangout, he makes a little bit of a scene just to draw the attention of a cop named Artie, who's a few years his senior -- and his only friend. When the two end up alone in a big warehouse, Artie's attempts to get Walter to calm down end in tragedy. It's quite accidental, but Walter knows nobody will understand.

So he flees, and at one point jumps into Tod and Linc's car and forces them, at gunpoint, to drive to an abandoned hideout. The two men have since heard of the officer's death. They aren't yet clear that Walter was the one who caused it, but there's reason for suspicion; when they mention the news, Walter's strange, victim-mentality remark prompts Tod to reply, "That's the spirit, Walter. We all killed the cop, didn't we, and you're just a big white dove." This is sarcasm, of course, as in "it's everyone else's fault; you are entirely innocent."

As Walter forces them to follow him into his hideout, he orders the two upstairs. Gesturing to himself, he borrows from Tod's line and says: "Just follow the white dove with the broken wing." This reflects Walter's distorted self-perception, seeing himself as a victim of circumstances while ignoring his own culpability. Here are themes of blame, innocence, and the consequences of rejection, a complex mix of sincerity and self-awareness. Does he think he's innocent? Perhaps. In his mind the "white dove" fits -- his distorted self-image makes him feel like he is a victim of all those around him who never tried to understand him. He's a dove who's been grounded by rejection, misunderstanding, and his own flaws. The "broken wing" evokes his inability to escape his situation, as even the "white dove" is hindered by its injury.

That is, he internalizes his outsider status. The metaphor of the "broken wing" reflects how he sees himself as damaged and incapable of fully connecting with others. Later on, as Tod and Luc remain semi-hostages of his, he eventually acknowledges that when he tried to make friends, they wouldn't reciprocate, so he retaliates like a wounded dog snarls at a person who gets near, even if they mean to help -- he turns rejection back on those who reject him.

When a crowd of his peers eventually learns of Walter's guilt, they form a makeshift vigilante mob and chase him down. Finally, backed into a corner, he yells at the crowd for having always shunned his attempts at friendship, then he proceeds to own up to his action. Referring to Artie, he says, "I didn't mean to." He turns away and explains tearfully, "I just wanted to talk with him -- anyone. I just wanted to talk with anybody." Seeing his sadness and fear, the mob suddenly quiets, realizing they are partly at fault for never having given him a chance or getting to know him. The mob's leader says he made a mistake, and the others silently disperse.

Answer: Despite being a brutal dictator, Pinochet never tried to suppress the film.

No two ways about it, Augusto Pinochet *absolutely* tried to -- and did -- keep Raul Ruiz's "Palomita Blanca" from ever seeing the light of day during his reign. Dictators are not generally known for being open-minded, and Pinochet is a particularly egregious example of one whose policies of censorship were violently enforced. Pretty much no artist or entertainer of ANY kind -- a painter, musician, filmmaker, author or anything else -- was safe under this guy's rule.

There's so much of interest surrounding the film, however, as well as the time during which it was made. "Palomita Blanca" actually began as a 1971 novel by Chilean author Enrique Lafourcade, and that was a huge seller. Two years later, a film adaptation of it was taken on with a man named Raul Ruiz as director. It's about Maria, a working-class teenager, and her romantic involvement with Juan Carlos, a young man from an affluent background. With the film in particular, the story shows us the teens' relationship as set against the backdrop of 1970s Chile, and it highlights for us class disparities and social divides -- and also some of the political tensions of the era.

Maria herself is the titular "Little White Dove." Patrick Barr-Melej, who wrote a book titled "Psychedelic Chile: Youth, Counterculture, and Politics on the Road to Socialism and Dictatorship," explains, "[The] title [was] derived from the common practice among young men to refer to young women as doves." Set during a tumultuous political period, the heart of the film and its story isn't truly so much about Maria and Juan Carlos' differing social worlds as much as the much-bigger societal and political divides their relationship mirrors.

A year before the novel, in 1970, Salvador Allende had been elected as Chile's president. He was a complex -- and definitely flawed -- leader whose policies and rule remain controversial and often-discussed even today. But he very much liked this filmmaker -- and in fact, Ruiz was a film adviser to Allende's Socialist party! Had Pinochet's coup never succeeded, "Palomita Blanca" would surely have gone off without a hitch. But the fact of the matter is it DID happen, swiftly and forcefully.

Here's the deal, in that regard: During the summer of 1973, Ruiz actually had the film just about finished up, and it was intended to be released in fall, but that was when the coup happened, and everything changed. The film's premiere was abruptly canceled; Ruiz -- along with many other artists -- were driven into exile very shortly thereafter. Once Pinochet was in power, there actually WAS a private screening, though this was just for the new government's various representatives and higher-ups. Pinochet had many powerful, high-ranking military officials, and a lot of them -- as well as their wives -- were very close to the regime. Well, these ladies really used their influence to help doom the film, because they saw it and stormed out, prudishly calling it "highly immoral."

Look, there's no need to vastly overcomplicate things. A bunch of military wives saw a preview, got "offended" by a few rough words and a brief dip-in-the-water nude scene, and made a huge stink. Pinochet was huge on censorship and control of media and cultural works anyway, so his crackdown and persecution saw many filmmakers and other artistic voices go into exile. And as for the movie studio, Chilefilms, Pinochet's regime immediately and forcefully closed it and seized all its materials, including the film reels. The authoritarian environment aimed to erase works deemed immoral, subversive or contrary to their ideology. So they wouldn't let it be seen -- it also contained depictions of 1970s counterculture. If you're going to control and censor media and cultural works, you'll be hostile to any and all works you deem even remotely countercultural or subversive.

However, some 17 years later, in 1990, Pinochet himself was ousted, along with his military dictatorship. And within a couple of years there was a remarkable discovery -- the reels of "Palomita Blanca" were found! Turned out they'd not in fact been destroyed but kept stored away. Unfortunately NOT found was a behind-the-scenes documentary Ruiz had made -- the similarly titled "Palomilla Brava," meaning "Little Bold Dove," which he had intended to expose the inappropriate behavior of Hugo Ortega, the producer, towards female actors during the main film's casting process.

So in 1993, after nearly two decades, Ruiz's "Little White Dove" was finally freed from its cage. Ironically, Pinochet's preventing a harmless glimpse into early-'70s Chile made the film's discovery and release much more relevant, as now people could see what was shot right before a new dictator came. Its 19-year suppression shows just what kind of regime had come in." It was never subversive -- just treated like it.

(Credit to Rouge magazine, LatinoLife and TVN.cl [Television Nacional de Chile] for various pieces of info.)

Answer: To the cirrus-filled skies of the Cloud Kingdom

When "Super Mario 64" came around in 1996, it was considered revolutionary because it was the first video game to give players a three-dimensional world rather than the "side-scrolling" games that usually consisted of flat, 2-D levels. And what players immediately noticed, with the advent of 3-D, was that game environments were now immersive and "open-world" -- players could explore every last corner of the game world, free to take the character wherever they wanted to go.

And one of the things people have loved about Mario's games is the attention to detail. You can look around at the levels and see all sorts of little artistic touches and ofen-humorous subtleties. If Mario looks up close in a patch of flowers, he'll spot some tiny butterflies flitting around. If the player stops moving Mario around entirely, the plumber will eventually yawn, fall asleep on the ground, and talk in his sleep, dreaming about pasta.

Well anyway, "Super Mario Odyssey" further expanded on its predecessors' tradition of giving Mario's many lands a diversity of flora and fauna and other striking ambient details. With all of the vastly different realms around the game's world, the developers decided that each setting should have, among other things, its own species of little birds, each unique to that area. In the jungle-like Cascade Kingdom, there are little scarlet macaws. In the frigid Snow Kingdom, little penguins wander around. On the beach of the Seaside Kingdom, seagulls circle nearby.

And in the mysterious Cloud Kingdom, set somewhere way up in the heavens where a long-ago civilization once lived, Mario can encounter little flocks of white doves, just as calm and pure-white as the endless clouds. And in this game, if Mario is left alone, something new happens -- one of the birds will land on the plumber. Want to see all the game's birds? Take a few good naps around the world -- the wildlife will come to you. And although doing so has absolutely no significance, there's perhaps no more delightful a little touch than to visit the Cloud Kingdom and watch as, in due time, a white dove perches happily on Mario's nose once he's fast asleep.

Answer: Herself and a man she loved

Emmylou Harris' song "Blackhawk" -- in this song with an avian title, a woman recalls herself and a man she once loved. It's one of those filled with metaphors and what seems to be layers of symbolic meaning, though she and Daniel Lanois, her musician friend who co-wrote the song with her, have never said or suggested the song has any special explanation; they said it just seemed like a nice melody with a wistful little idea.

That said, the lyrics, including the refrain -- "We were Blackhawk and the white-winged dove" -- very much suggest that this imagined couple had contrasting yet complementary qualities -- because of his and her unique traits, the man and woman completed one another. He was the Blackhawk -- intense, powerful, distant at times -- while she was vulnerable, idealistic and more emotionally gentle, with a sense of hopefulness.

The beauty of the song is that it doesn't over-explain itself. Simple imagery tells a story, and the listener feels its weight. You can feel the dynamic: Two people are drawn to each other but ultimately too different to stay together. It's bittersweet. Sometimes we care deeply about someone but can't quite make it work because we and they are from two different worlds (or in this case, airspaces?). Harris doesn't overcomplicate the story with dramatic twists. She gives just enough to connect with and lets the metaphors do the rest. It's a reminiscent look back at once was, not a bitterness of what could have been.

There's a reference to a "noon bell" -- that is, this is a memory of a moment in time, a turning point. She says, "I remember just what we were/ As the noon bell rings for/ Blackhawk and the white-winged dove." The bell rings in memory of what they once shared -- a kind of requiem for a love that's now only in the past. Yet even if it's gone, she still remembers it, resonant like the tolling of a ringing bell.

Anyway, taken at face value, this is how things went: They both lived and worked in a small town, though her job was in a bookstore, while his was in a steel factory. She was surrounded by the quiet, reflective world of books and ideas; he toiled away at grueling, intense physical labor -- not just in a factory but deep down by the "blast furnace," which tells clearly this environment was consuming and harsh. She recalls how over time she saw him change, worn down by life's hardships and labor's relentless routine. He began to drink, and she remembers comforting him during these moments, trying to care for him as he struggled with his sense of self. Through it all, she recalls their love and the way it was tinged with sadness, longing, and an awareness of the forces pulling them apart. The relationship faded over time, leaving in its place the memories of what they were and what was lost.

Again, this is a case of a creative work in which a white dove (as well as another bird) are very clearly "nicknames" of sorts that the singer gives to her former lover and herself; that much is objectively true, but beyond that, the imagery gets into a subjective realm where things aren't all explicitly clear. That said, if I were to take the story as it's presented and reimagine its lyrics without the poetic stylings, I would paraphrase it like this:

"I worked long hours at a bookstore, while he worked at the steel factory, laboring in the hot and polluted air. Life in that world was harsh and full of hard truths, but I still clearly remember what we were to each other, especially when the noon bell would ring, marking time for both of us. I'd comfort him when life was too much. He was once admired in our small town, but he started to lose himself. The blast furnace became his reality, wearing him down. Still, he thought of us, and I did too -- of the connection we had when we were together, like two birds soaring side by side. I remember the small details about him. We'd lose ourselves in the moment, lovers on an adventure, facing life head-on. I wonder where he is now -- what happened to him, to us, to the love we once shared? We were inseparable back then -- he was the Blackhawk; I was the white-winged dove -- we were always together.

"I wonder if he still has the ring I gave him when we stood together by the lake. I was so sure I understood him then. Then things grew different. We were bound to working-class life. We raised kids and tried to hold it all together, though life wasn't what we imagined. I still remember the way we fell to our knees in the tall grass, chasing love and the freedom it promised. I still athink of him and wonder where he is now -- what became of us. We were Blackhawk and the white-winged dove."

(Credit to AZLyrics for the lyrics to the song.)

Answer: Powerful -- you get to choose two very useful cards.

The "Plea for Guidance" card is a powerful one. In the interest of full disclosure, I have only limited experience with playing "Magic: The Gathering", so thanks to a friend of mine for helping me explain some things properly. This is a card game -- imagine a mix of chess and poker, with a fantasy twist. (These are not traditional playing cards; these are unique to the game.) Each player is a wizard, duelling others by casting spells, summoning creatures and more. You build a deck of cards before the game, and during play, you draw cards randomly and decide when and how to use them. There's a lot of strategy needed to know things like your deck's strengths and adapting to what you draw.

Okay, so "about Plea for Guidance." It's a "sorcery" card -- i.e., it's a spell you can play only once, and then it's out of play. "Creatures" and "artifacts" remain on the battlefield, but spells are quick, one-time effects. This particular card lets you search your deck of cards for two "enchantment" cards and add them to your hand. Normally, you have to wait and hope to draw the cards you need by chance. But "Plea for Guidance" lets you skip the guessing game and go straight for two powerful enchantments -- which are any cards that can make you stronger, weaken your opponent or change the game in other ways. "Plea" isn't super-rare, but used well, it can be quite powerful. Strategically, you can hold it for when you're eyeing a particular spell that can turn tide of battle.

But let's get to the white dove on the card. In the imaginary land of Theros, the game's setting, doves symbolize discovery instead of peace. The glowing white dove depicted on the card's art feels like a divine messenger to guide you to what you seek. Even if you've never played Magic, it's easy to appreciate how the mechanics and themes are interwoven together. "Plea for Guidance," you could say, is a chance to find clarity in among the confusion. It's a game of strategy and chance, but cards like this one let you tip the odds in your favor. The white dove on the artwork looks serene, but on the world of Theros, doves symbolize discovery, not peace. Instead of having to rely purely on chance, the dove delivers the power you need.

In a game that's largely inspired by mythology, the dove feels like a messenger of divine insight, revealing what is normally hidden. The artwork captures this perfectly: a magical bird soaring through the sky. The card's text reads: "On Theros, the dove is a symbol not of peace but of discovery. Quick wings herald the arrival of a revelation." Drawing the right card at the right time is always a big advantage. It's sort of a symbol of a moment of clarity -- "discovering" two powerful cards in your deck. All told, "Plea for Guidance" and its dove don't automatically equal victory, but it heralds the chance to take more control of what powers you can use, and for a skilled player, it just might create some very interesting opportunities.

Answer: Touched by an Angel

"Touched by an Angel" is the TV show in question, all right, and that show loves its white doves. The beautiful Della Reese, who played Tess (one of the show's angels in human form), was also the singer of the show's theme song, titled "Walk With You." The opening sequence begins with Roma Downey's character, the angel named Monica, strolling calmly through an open field, holding a long, flowing white scarf that flutters in the wind and transforms into a white dove, which then takes flight. The last shot in the montage shows Monica now standing high atop a towering cliff face near a rocky outcropping, with not one but multiple white doves gently walking around her feet.

And as the story of each episode ends -- in the very last camera shot before the freeze-frame and cutaway to the closing credits -- there's ALWAYS a single white dove that appears. Stylistically there's a little bit of variation -- i.e., sometimes it will have been in the background and then fly into view, then continue in flight out of the camera's range -- or sometimes the freeze-frame will hold on the dove while it's still in view, fluttering its wings and taking flight.

There's even a little variation of this in the series finale, which sees both Satan and God appearing in human form -- Satan as a legal prosecutor, and God as a man who is wrongly blamed for the death of several youngsters in the town. In the last scenes, as angels Tess and Monica talk about things, the camera pans over briefly to the dusty ground of the desert, and we are shown both a rattlesnake and a white dove. It's not too hard to guess who they are! The serpent, his previous deception having been defeated, slithers off into the desert wilderness, while the white dove just stays in place, quietly.

Now admittedly, a person might be inclined to say, "Wait a minute. Just because 'Touched by an Angel' has a signature opening and closing with a white dove, that doesn't say exactly what it is. It doesn't have to be God himself. It could just be a symbol for peace, like it usually is, or of hope or faith or what have you."

But lucky for us, we have a definitve answer. One day in late 2017, a few days before Della Reese passed away, Roma Downey made a post on her official / verified social-media page, reminiscing about the show and asking for prayer for Reese. She posted a photo the two of them together, with Downey gently holding a white dove. Rather than edit or paraphrase it, here is (slight typos and all) exactly what Ms. Downey wrote to go with the picture: "Remember on Touched By An Angel the white dove who showed up at the end of every episode ?. The dove of course represented God and the presence of the Holy Spirit. We loved those doves, we nick named them 22 because they showed up in the call sheet as #22. Della always laughed and said 'is 22 working tonight'? Well I pray that 22 is with us today all day and every day . I pray Della gets to breathe in the Holy Spirit today and that she is comforted this day by the presence of God. Those of us who love her are surrounding her in a circle of prayer at this time, please join me in praying for Miss Della Reese, my momma and my friend."

And just for good measure, these are the lyrics Ms. Reese sings in the intro song "Walk With You," with the backing chorus' lines in parentheses:

"When you walk down the road/ Heavy burden, heavy load/ I will rise and I will walk with you./ When you walk through the night/ And you feel like you want to just give up, give up, give up on the fight/ I will come and I will walk with you.

"Until the sun don't even shine/ I'll be there all the time/ I tell you I'll walk with you. (See you through)/ When you walk from this place/ And you gotta go to meet Him, it's time to meet Him face to face/ Take my hand and I will walk with you.

"(Oh, oh, walk with you/ 'Til the clouds fade away/ I tell you I'll walk with you,/ Each and every day. Oh yes, I'll walk with you. Oh, oh, oh when nobody cares)/ I'll be right there by your side/ (When all your hope is lost)/ I'm the one that's gonna help you see the light/ (Just look into my eyes) Please know you're not alone. (You're not alone.) I'm here, I'm here (I'm here by your side).

"I'll be there all the time/ (I'm gonna walk with you)/ I'll be there 'til the clouds just fade away/ I'll be there every day, every day, every day, every day I'll be with you all the while/ Be right there through the longest mile/ I will walk with you, yes I will, yes I will, yes I will, I will/ I tell you I'll be there/ And I will walk with you.

"Oh yeah (Walk with)/ Believe me, I, I, I'll be there and I'll walk with you, yes, I will/ I will walk with you (Walk with)/ Mm-mm, mhm, oh yes, I will walk with you."

(Credit to Genius.com for the lyrics, and the official Facebook + Instagram pages of Roma Downey, where she posted the message.)

Answer: Emma sends the dove to deliver a message warning of impending danger.

Born in Bavaria, Christoph von Schmid is a terribly overlooked writer whose many works deserve to see the light of day again. His book "The White Dove" is a moralistic tale centered around themes of kindness, gratitude and divine providence. In it is a girl named Agnes, who rescues and cares for a white dove, and a later act of compassion ultimately leads to the saving of several lives.

Here's the upshot of the story. The noble knight Theobald has a wife, Othelia, and a daughter, Agnes. The girl one day saves a white dove that lands in their garden. She lovingly adopts it and cares for it. Knowing of Theobold's kindness, One day, a widow named Rosalind comes to him, with her daugter Emma, for help; greedy landowners want to seize her land. He intervenes, and before the widow and daughter part, Agnes gifts her dove to Emma, knowing how much she would love it.

One day, Rosalind and Emma learn that two robbers -- the same men Theobold once brought to justice -- are disguised as pilgrims and intend to murder him and his family at Falkenbourg Castle, his home. Emma thinks to tie a warning note to the dove and release it, as it knows the way to the castle. The knight receives the note in time, and when the "pilgrims" arrive, Theobold quickly reveals he knows who they really are, and they are taken away to get what they deserve. Remarking that acts of kindness and faith can lead to unexpected blessings, Theobold recognizes this event as a miraculous act of divine providence, and he and all the others give thanks to God and celebrate his goodness in protecting them from harm, having used "an innocent dove to work a miracle in our favour." In a gesture of gratitude, Emma gives the white dove back to Agnes, along with a golden ornament of an olive-branch.

So von Schmid's "The White Dove" is one of those stories that just dares you not to feel all warm and fuzzy. It's got everything you'd expect from a 19th-century morality tale: innocence, selflessness, a bit of danger, and a dove doing way more heavy lifting than any bird should reasonably be expected to do. The plot itself is pretty simple. Maybe a hardened cynic would say that Agnes is improbably good-hearted and the kind of girl who probably rescues stray kittens in her free time, but nevermind. Most of the characters -- save for the marauders who don't see the evil of their ways -- are loving; so what? What's not to love about a story where a bird outsmarts criminals?

The symbolism is a bit to-be-expected, but von Schmid doesn't just throw a random dove into the story for kicks. It's peace, purity and divine providence, all wrapped up in a neat little bundle of feathers. And the olive branch it carries at the very end is a little on-the-nose but effective. The dove is more than just a messenger -- it's practically a sermon with wings. Agnes' willingness to give it up in the first place is the kind of sacrifice the story loves to remind us can have ripple effects far beyond what we might expect.

Perhaps the plot might feel a little too neat for some people's modern sensibilities. Robbers conveniently thwarted, everyone saved, and the dove comes back to Emma like a tiny feathery boomerang. But it works, in part because it's not trying to be something it's not. It doesn't rely on irony or a twist ending to convey its message. Turns out, a straightforward happy ending actually can be a good way to get the point across. I'm not inclined to feel cynical about the white dove and its symbolism, because more than just symbolizing peace, it helps create it. It plays a real role in a story of friendship, faith, generosity, caring for others, and above all else that God is indeed there, and is good and just. (Besides, all else being equal, using a messenger dove is a lot more fun than sending a text.)

(Credit to The University of Florida Digital Collections for an online / digitized copy of von Schmid's book "The White Dove.")

Answer: They're all violent action scenes.

Whenever you see white doves in a John Woo movie, they're just abound bound to be juxtaposed against action-scene violence.

There's a lot to get to here, so we dive right in. Thankfully, John Woo has talked about this recuring imagery multiple times in interviews, so we can really hear firsthand his many thoughts. For example, talking to "Far Out" magazine, he remarked on the aesthetic: "I like doves. They look so beautiful, like a woman."

The first film of his to feature white doves was "The Killer" (in 1989), and here's part of how he described it: "The story is about a cop and an assassin. Each of them has their own ideas about justice. I was trying to come up with an idea of a montage to show their righteousness. When I was shooting the final sequence, I had this idea to have the white doves flying past the candles." He expanded on this in another interview: "When we were shooting the final scene of 'The Killer' on the church set, I was trying to find a way to show the true spirit of the two protagonists -- the cop and the killer -- in a movie this heroic and romantic. Both have been misunderstood by the world, and I wanted to figure out a montage or a shot that would somehow reveal their true character. It suddenly occurred to me to put some white doves in the scene. When our hero was shot, I cut to the white doves flying over and it looked beautiful. When those two shots were edited together, somehow the viewer could feel the heart of the movie. Also, these guys have done some bad things in their lives but their souls got saved in the end, which I also wanted to express through this image."

As a deeply religious, devout Christian man who in real life actually abhors violence, Woo has often expressed many deeply reflective thoughts about his faith. For example: "I think the white doves represent purity and spirit. White doves to me are a messenger from God. They are a noble creature with many symbolic meanings. When I was in middle school, every Sunday there was a service at my church. I was tasked with drawing the poster and I used white doves for it all the times." Referring again to "The Killer," he added: "The story is about a cop and an assassin. Each of them has their own ideas about justice. I was trying to come up with an idea of a montage to show their righteousness. When I was shooting the final sequence, I had this idea to have the white doves flying past the candles to represent the precious spirits within them."

He elaborated on this: "When we were shooting the final scene of 'The Killer' on the church set, I was trying to find a way to show the true spirit of the two protagonists -- the cop and the killer -- in a movie this heroic and romantic. Both have been misunderstood by the world and I wanted to figure out a montage or a shot that would somehow reveal their true character. It suddenly occurred to me to put some white doves in the scene. When our hero was shot, I cut to the white doves flying over and it looked beautiful. When those two shots were edited together, somehow the viewer could feel the heart of the movie. Also, these guys have done some bad things in their lives but their souls got saved in the end, which I also wanted to express through this image."

In 1993's "Hard Target," there are the doves, fluttering through a chaotic fight in a warehouse. In his 1997 "Face/Off," white doves again appear during a church standoff (which becomes the climactic gunfight) between the two main characters. The most famous movie in which you'd find them, however, is "Mission: Impossible 2. The "South China Morning Post" describes for us: "[Tom] Cruise (as our hero Ethan Hunt) seeks out the bad guys in their underground lair. When Cruise blows down a door, a snow-white dove flies through the fire. When the baddies are hunting him down, Cruise takes shelter in a storeroom and the dove appears again, perched next to him like some guardian angel."

Woo's comment on "M:I-2" specifically gives us yet some more to think over: "I came up with the idea on the set. Tom Cruise's character is charming, innocent and, like the other characters, he had hopes, dreams, passion about life, he had love. So the little dove with Tom works together as his friend. When the white dove flies through the burning door, it becomes the messenger -- it's sending a message to the evil guys [that Cruise is here]. And when he [Cruise] is hiding, the dove makes a noise and the bad guy comes so Tom can kick him. So it is like his friend as well. In every movie, I like to give a little religious touch."

So in the end, this interplay between action and grace is part of what makes Woo's films so memorable, and the his doves, whether flying past candles or emerging through flames, have become his artistic signature and a sort of poetic flourish. So for him, themes of purity, love, beauty, spirituality and more all influence his films and resonate in them. Where doves often appear in scenes of violence, it's a stunning but breathtaking way of juxtaposing and contrasting brutality with hope, redemption and peace. There's definitely a duality -- the universal symbol of peace against violent chaos; redemption in the face of destruction.

(Credit to ComicBook.com, ScreenRant, "Far Out" magazine, The Film Stage and the "South China Morning Post" for the quotes and some of the info.)

Answer: The Holy Spirit descending on Jesus at his baptism

Porter Wagoner's cover of "Wings of a Dove" added a stanza about the Holy Spirit descending on Jesus, in the form of a white dove, when he was baptized.

The lyrics of the original version of the song, written in 1958 by singer-songwriter Bob Ferguson, are worth repeating here:

"On the wings of a snow-white dove/ He sends his pure sweet love/ A sign from above/ On the wings of a dove.

"When troubles surround us, when evils come/ The body grows weak, the spirit grows numb/ When these things beset us, he doesn't forget us/ He sends down his love/ On the wings of a dove.

"When Noah had drifted on the flood many days/ He searched for land in various ways/ Troubles, he had some, but he wasn't forgotten/ He sent him his love/ On the wings of a dove.

"On the wings of a snow white dove/ He sends his pure sweet love/ A sign from above/ On the wings of a dove."

As noted, Ferlin Husky was the first performer to sing the original song. This was around 1960.

And this was the additional stanza, first added by Porter Wagoner in 1968: "When Jesus went down to, the river that day/ He was baptized in the usual way/
And when it was done, God blessed his son/ He sent him his love/ On the wings of a dove."

As much as it may seem easy to just dismiss a discussion of the song (or what it's talking about) since it's not overly complicated, a closer look is what it deserves nonetheless, and so it will get one here. "On the wings of a snow-white dove/ He sends His pure sweet love/ A sign from above/ On the wings of a dove." At first, this feels simple, even obvious. A dove, love from above -- okay, got it. But Bob Ferguson's "Wings of a Dove" treads gently. Ferlin Husky's version delivery made it a hit in 1960, and many people still love it. Why? Because it takes a familiar symbol and gives it more depth than just some feel-good cliche. It's not just a nice-sounding song -- it's building a bridge between Scripture, symbolism, and all-too-real emotions.

The first verse -- okay, we know the story: Noah, ark, flood, dove. But this isn't just Sunday-School stuff thrown in for nostalgia. The dove isn't just any old bird -- it's the same bird that delivered hope. It's God saying "I haven't forgotten you" at a moment when Noah had every reason to feel abandoned. It's not just about Noah's story; it's about anyone who ever felt like the water was rising faster than they could keep up. The song takes that lost feeling and gives it wings.

And that's part of why the song deserves more than just a passing "oh, it's nice" reaction. Simplicity makes it work. The pure-white dove carries all the weight -- peace, love, reassurance, God's presence -- yet it's light enough that anyone can connect with it. If Husky's song originated the gentle, personal feel, Wagoner's version built upon it very nicely indeed.

And recall what Porter Wagoner did with it in 1968. He recorded it with the Blackwood Brothers Quartet, adding a stanza about Jesus' baptism. This actually was a great way to tie together the Old and New Testaments. Now the dove isn't just hope in hard times; it builds directly from the baptism in the Jordan River. Per Matthew 3:16-17, "As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, 'This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.'" The song knows exactly what it's saying -- it takes the idea of God as some distant, intangible concept of debate and instead proposes that there is a God who cares and who makes his presence known. The white dove descends.

(Credit to OldieLyrics.com for the song lyrics, and to "Country Thang Daily" online for some info about Wagoner.)