Unsettling Endings

(If you don't want to know anything about the movie because it might spoil it for you, then don't read this entry).

I recently saw P.T. Anderson's recent masterpiece There Will Blood, a story about a man's quest to strike it rich in California's oil rush early in the 20th century. The end of the movie leaves many of its viewers disgruntled, because of the story's lack of resolution. Most contemporary films end with great resolution. The villian is captured, the hero exalted, the shamu finally makes it to the ocean, the homeless man makes it to Wall Street, etc. Justice prevails, wounds begin to heal, and all the characters have learned great lessons. Typically, even when movies end on a sad note (e.g. the hero dies), there is still a sense of resolution. There is typically a calm funeral scene, with beautiful music in the background, giving the viewer the confidence that though the hero has died, his/her death was not in vain, their memory lives on, and our moral universe is still intact.

Suffice it to say that There Will Be Blood does not end with the sort of resolution previously described. And thus, it is unsettling. When watching a movie or listening to a story, we need resolution because we need to know that the world is safe, manageable and understandable. By not resolving, stories like There Will Be Blood suggest that the world is not secure and predictable. Truth does not always win out. Characters do not always experience redemption. Oppressors are not always brought to justice. The world is not safe, but hostile.

Though I believe that resolution and restoration is more real and determinative than irresolution and disintegration (because of the resurrection of Jesus), I still think there is significant truth in movies like There Will Be Blood. Perhaps we are kidding ourselves when we act as if in this life there will always be the kind of resolution the typical movie portrays. Perhaps the world is not as safe and manageable as we are told over and over again in stories ranging from childhood classics like Little Red Riding Hood to modern movies like James Bond or The Gladiator. Perhaps the wrong people win. Perhaps the two twenty-somethings don't end up falling in love. Perhaps we can't be so confident that our lives will be fulfilling, secure, and happy.

Laugh Together, Cry Alone

We're porcelain dolls
Can't afford to break
It'd be too costly
Too much is at stake

Don't tell them we're lost
Far away from home
Let's laugh together
But cry alone

Keep it on weather
On music and shows
Comb your hair, brush your teeth
Look up straight, strike a pose

Show them your smile
Conceal your groan
Let's laugh together
But cry alone

Play one more game
Say another joke
Talk like we're rich
Even if we are broke

Traveling this road
We're all on our own
So we laugh together
But cry alone

Keep the makeup on
After all - we're youth
Trying to stay pretty
So ugly is the truth

We'll stay protected
Yet never be known
If we laugh together
But cry alone

Who Are You?

Who are you, O God,

That you would commit yourself to a people,

A people you knew would reject you?

You are the woman who can't help but end up in abusive relationships,

To the detriment of her own safety.

You are the tree that weathers abuse,

Yet still provides shade.

You are the child whose parent has left them,

And yet thinks of that parent as their hero.

You are the soil trampled upon and sold for money,

Yet continues to bear a fruitful harvest.

You are Almighty,

Yet your people walk on you.

You sustain your creation that has forgotten you.

You sustain your people who have dismissed you.

O, that you would learn from us!

Let us teach you something about love.

Let us teach you about the give & take of relationships.

Let us teach you our ways.

O God, you bear the marks of true faithfulness.

On your hands, on your feet.

Luther & the Naked God

I just finished a class called "Medieval & Reformation Theology" on Monday. Coming into this class, I had little appreciation for theology that was older than say 20-30 years. Perhaps it's my implicit cultural elitism that manifests itself in my thinking that we've finally "arrived" theologically - which allows us to dismiss the theology of anyone not part of our generation. By being forced to learn from Medieval & Reformation theologians (700s - 1600s A.D.), I was continually confronted with the rich, diverse, and faithful theology that is a part of our history.

One idea I found particularly powerful was Luther's concept of the "naked God". A mystic around the time of Luther (Meister Eckhart) had been saying that if we want to "know God", we must get beyond all descriptions of Him. We must get beyond all concepts like "Trinity" and "Christ" and "the cross" in order to have true experiential knowledge of God - these descriptions only serve as obstacles to knowing and encountering God as He really is in Himself. What Eckhart gets right is that there is more to God than any list of descriptions - no words, phrases, or concepts can contain God as He truly is.

However, Luther responds by explaining that encountering such a "naked God" may not be a pleasant experience at all. You don't want to meet God in this way, for such a holy God would probably be a threat to sinful human beings. For those who would recognize their sinfulness, they should know God as He is clothed in His promises and mercy, for God unclothed with His covenanted love may just be an all-consuming fire, as opposed to your friend.

This ought to be the goal of what it means to "know God" - to know God as He is clothed in His promises and mercy. When we come to God in prayer we should be conscious of the fact we can stand before Him only as He has clothed himself in mercy - mercy demonstrated most fully on the cross. When we see the incredible mercy and love of God demonstrated on the cross, our hearts can do nothing more noble than to melt before Him. May our hearts melt before such a great and awe-inspiring God, who has, for our sake, clothed Himself in love and mercy.

A Poem by Mike

Here's a poem written by Mike Battle that I thought you'd enjoy:

Gifting Eyes
The beauty of tears,
unto you eternally always.
The created order,
magnificence of The King.
We see such things
and are blind to what is witnessed.
Father, O Father,
You forgave our deaf ears
and clouded sight.
Always may we entreat others,
and retreat never.
Beauty of broken tears:
Words are injustices
unfit for eyes of the redeemed.
We weep for beauty,
for we have seen beyond.
You have broken our sight;
We see You in truth.
We cannot comprehend
the goodness of Abba, Father.
The setting sun of the West.
Others will follow.
Lead us, Spirit of Jesus,
so we may lead.
We are coming, Father,
We are coming
home.

Superbowl Reflection (by Dr. Mouw)

Here is a reflection on the Superbowl by Fuller's president, Dr. Richard Mouw that I thought you might enjoy:

God and the Superbowl

Nine years ago I made it into the big time. I got quoted in Sports Illustrated. In January 1998 that magazine did a cover story on the question of whether God cares who wins the Super Bowl. Several of us in the theological world were interviewed, but at a key point I was pitted against the Packers’ Reggie White. He insisted that God loves winners, and I took a different view. I do believe, I said, that God cares about the Super Bowl. And certainly, as a Calvinist, I believe that God has predestined the outcome–I did tell the reporter that, but the SI people chose not to quote me on that particular point, probably because they knew that Reggie White, as an Arminian, would come after me! But God’s main interest in the Super Bowl, I said, had to do with the actualization of created talent. God likes it when people cultivate the sorts of capacities and abilities that he has invested in the creation. Even more, God takes delight when certain important virtues–fair play, discipline, an energetic-yet-kind competitiveness, and the like–are on prominent display.

That SI piece skimmed lightly over some important theological points. There is a lot more to be explored regarding God’s attitude towared competitive exercises. “Competition” is a bad word in some circles, but I am convinced that a certain kind of competition can be a way of fulfilling God’s creating purposes. Here is an interesting question, for example: Might Adam and Eve have played chess in their unfallen condition? I like to think that it would have been a good way to spend some of their time in the Garden. As human creatures whose chief aim it was to glorify God and to enjoy him forever, I think they could have competed in a way that pleased their Maker. Playing chess would have been a way of matching wits, of accepting the mutual challenge to devise winning strategies. As unfallen persons, they would not want to humiliate each other–instead they would want to use the abilities of the other person as a challenge to cultivate their own capactity for problem-solving.

Amid all of the commercialism and hype of this weekend’s Super Bowl, there will be a core of basic atheltic prowess on display. If it is displayed well, I think God will be pleased. And I do think that the Maker of heaven and earth takes special delight this time around in the expressed attitudes of the two coaches. Each has made a point of talking about the faith they share as Christian friends. And each has said that while he hopes for a win, there is much more at stake than simply claiming a victory over the other team. Even though I am convinced God already knows the outcome, I believe that he will be watching the game this weekend–on his own day of rest!–with great interest.

Lonesome Jim and the Liberation of Time

Last night I watched the movie, Lonesome Jim. The main character, Jim, is narcissistic and hopelessly depressed, believing there is really nothing in life worth living for. Jim's life is characterized by complete boredom, and even when he is involved in activities, like work or coaching a girls basketball team, this lack of meaning and boredom is even more apparent.

Speaking about the relationship people have with time, Henry Nouwen says "It is the experience of time as chronology, a randomly collected series of incidents and accidents over which we have no control and which gives us a sense of fatalism. This fatalism often manifests itself in the guise of boredom. Boredom does not mean that we have nothing to do or that there is not enough going on to entertain us, but that we are gnawed by the feeling that whatever we do or say makes no real difference".

This is what plagues Jim, the sense that life is without meaning. He is contrasted with his mom, who is grotesquely optimistic and always cheerful, as well as a woman he falls for, who is responsible and caring, two things Jim is definitely not. After coming close to giving up, by the end of the movie Jim has no real revelation, he only decides that in the face of life's apparent meaninglessness, it is better not to "give up" because "trying" in life is better than being continously depressed. If there is a message, it is that we can't or shouldn't let life's meaninglessness keep us from living.

The movie presents time as chronology, a series of events that lack a coherent narrative. Such a view of time is not new to contemporary culture, but can be seen from literature written thousands of years ago in the Middle East. The writer of Ecclesiastes gives us a picture of life apart from the liberating narrative of God's involvement in the world: "Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, vanity of vanities. All is vanity. What do people gain from all the toil at which they toil under the sun? A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains for ever... All things are wearisome, more than one can express... What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun"(1:2-9).

Are we doomed to chronology? Is "bucking up" and maintaining our existence the best we can do? Nouwen points out that it is Jesus who liberates "history from its fatalistic chronology". Jesus broke into history and proclaimed "The time has come, the kingdom of God is at hand, repent and believe the good news" (Mk 1:15). The story of God breaking into the world in the person of Jesus to bring his kingdom is the story that transforms time. It transforms our understanding of time because for those who attach themselves to Jesus, we see our lives not as a random series of events, but as part of the story of God's redemption. Nouwen writes that the "the events of [our] scattered lives are indeed deeply connected with the great event of God's redemptive work in Jesus".

Of course this sounds great, but what does it look like? What would it mean to see the events in our lives, so often full of struggle and pain, as part of God's redemptive story? For instance, how are the extremely painful events in our life to be seen in this light?

The story of redemption is that God has entered our pain and stuggle and will bring us to joy and wholeness. In the cross, we see God as one who suffers with us. And in the resurrection, we see God as the one who triumphs for us. Death is not the last word. Neither is pain or sorrow. We may be experiencing "the cross", but we do so alongwith the God who would burst forth from the grave three days later. As one preacher famously put it, "It may be Friday, but Sunday's a-coming". The gospel invites you to see your life not as a series of random, unredeemed events, but as part of this story. And as you find yourself with God in this story, you will know that being with this God is better than anything else in the entire world.