Robert De Niro and the True Face of Easter

There is something that can only be described as thick about the laughter of God. And in this ghost-world where so much is thin with superficiality, it is quite rare to experience anything approaching what one might call true joy. In the movie The Mission, however, we do get a glimpse. The main character, Rodrigo, played by Robert De Niro, is a conquistador in the New World in the mid 1700s. He is a slave trader and becomes quite wealthy at the expense of the natives.

One day he discovers that his younger brother is having an affair with his beloved mistress. Out of jealousy he ultimately winds up killing him. Inconsolable and unwilling to eat, he is ministered to in prison by a missionary priest named father Gabriel. At first, he will not accept the possibility of forgiveness. In fact, he even says to the priest that redemption is impossible for him because no penance would be severe enough. The priest responds, "You chose your crime- do you dare to choose your penance." Rodrigo responds; "Do you dare to see it fail?" After much coaxing on the part of father Gabriel, Rodrigo finally accepts the challenge and devises a profoundly onerous, not to mention harrowing, penance for himself. Accompanied by the priest, he must now attempt to carry his former weapons of war up the side of a steep mountain where, at the conclusion of his journey, he must await the final verdict of those whom he had formerly enslaved, those who live "above the falls."

            
During this arduous journey, he falls numerous times, and there are questions about whether he will complete his penance. Nevertheless, with the aid of father Gabriel, and a few other missionary priests, he is eventually able to scale the mountain. Yet upon arriving at the place where the natives are encamped, he is uncertain about whether or not they will kill him. The chief of the tribe approaches the mud-covered conquistador. He barks out an order in a language that is indiscernible, and one of his comrades draws a knife and places at the base of Rodrigo’s throat. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he makes a swift cutting motion, though not into the conquistador’s neck. Instead, quite unexpectedly, he cuts into the thick cord that bears the burden of his penance. Everyone is stunned, and for a brief moment there is some confusion. Just then the audio in the film cuts out and all that can be seen is the vision of the former slave trader weeping as the native tribe bellows with jubilant laughter of disbelief. Who could have ever envisioned a slave trader falling prostrate before those he enslaved with tears of compunction running down his face? The scene ends with the De Niro character oscillating between tears of sorrow and tears of joy. And because there is no audio in the scene, the audience is unable to discern where one emotion ends and the other begins. 

This is the true face of Easter; a scene that in a most profound way captures what St. Paul called, "the eternal weight of glory". True joy is not simply the phenomenon of feeling happy, or a sense of peace about things, it possesses a certain "weight" to it, something so priceless and beautiful that when one begins to understand its value it is difficult not to feel stunned by the good fortune that has befallen you. It is like winning the lottery without knowing that you entered it. It is a profound sorrow that by some miracle of the resurrection is transfigured into an equal sense of jubilation. By contrast, sin completely robs us of our spiritual integrity, consigning everyone to an eternal state of superficiality and disintegration. Indeed, the only way to regain this lost sense of spiritual "thickness" is through the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Yet as the scene in the movie demonstrates, the grace and forgiveness of Jesus Christ does not merely consist in God letting us off the hook. For our part, we must place ourselves in a position where we are able, so to speak, to be "let off the hook." This does not simply mean that we say to God "OK you can forgive me now", for that is what is known as "cheap grace." Forgiving one's self involves the paradoxical notion that you are made "worthy to be unworthy." God has infused in us a deep sense of justice, and in a certain way, it is we who demand restitution for our sins, not only God. Hence, reconciliation is as much about us being made right with ourselves as it is about being made right with God. This also doesn't mean that God is not more powerful than our hearts, but it does mean that in order for us to receive the benefits of forgiveness, there has to be someone there to receive them. Without genuine contrition (which is easier said than done), we are little more than wraiths unable to receive the solid food of His forgiveness.

Rodrigo's ascent up the mountain of God is in many ways the perfect metaphor for the spiritual life. Yes, it is by God's grace that we are forgiven and receive redemption, but it is equally true that our soul demands an act of gratitude for so generous a gift. That is not to say that God would not be justified (like the Guarani) if he were to kill us in spite of our sacrifice, but rather to say that love compels us to offer some kind of return regardless of whether or not the debt can be repaid. That is the point in the end. Our debt cannot be repaid even were we to give everything to God. However, it is precisely in this attempt to give him everything that we open ourselves to understanding just how much he's given us. Like a true champion who weeps after winning the finals, he understands the price that came with the victory, he knows just how close he came to losing everything, but even more importantly, he knows that even with all of his efforts, he would be nothing without the ones who made the victory possible.

The Shawshank Redemption and Why Understanding Song Lyrics Is Overrated

Have you ever read the lyrics to your favorite song only to realize that what it sounded like they said was far more interesting than what they actually said? The music, coupled with the singers vocal stylings, can impute a depth to the lyrics that the lyrics don't actually have. At any rate, I am the type of music lover who is interested in the story behind the music, so whenever I like a song I naturally gravitate towards the lyric sheet. However, over the years I have come to realize that some things are better left misunderstood, or at least untranslated. To give an obvious example of this, how might one for instance translate "Alleluia"? Would you say that "Yay!" is acceptable, or what about "Woo-hoo!" The truth is when it comes to our everyday language we use any number of songs, phrases, aphorisms, and prayers that are not translated from their original tongue, not because we understand the exact meaning of the words, but because, more importantly, we understand their substance. This is not a post about alliteration and the texture of how words sound in their original form, but can anyone deny the pleasure of saying or singing certain phrases in their original tongue? "Salve Regina" or "Je ne sais quoi" immediately come to mind. Indeed, the flow of certain phrases, a certain mystery of language, the power of wise sayings sound as if they are from distant lands... because they are. Which brings me to two of the most exquisitely beautiful scenes that one will find in cinema, both of which possess, how shall we say it, that certain linguistic "Je ne sais quoi" I have been getting at this whole time.

The first scene comes from The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring. After Gandalf the Grey presumably dies in Khazad-dum, the other members of the fellowship flee, and soon find themselves in realm of the elves. Gandalf was apparently quite dear to the elves, so they are profoundly saddened at the news of his "falling into shadow". Consequently, they begin to chant in the most haunting and beautiful of tones in order to lament his passing. When one of the members of the fellowship hears this he asks Legolas (an elf that is with the company) what they are singing about. He tells them, in essence, that it is too painful to reveal, especially with all of the events being so fresh in their memory. Soon after, one of the Hobbits (Sam-wise) gets up and tries to offer his own poetic lament, but against the background of their celestial chant, it sounds clunky and awkward, provoking him to abruptly sit back down. This is not to say that Sam's attempt was not adorable and appropriate in its own way, but by comparison there is clearly something more haunting and beautiful about this elvish hymn, something that might be betrayed were it to be translated into the common tongue.

The second scene which I would point to comes from the Shawshank Redemption, and is for my money, even more beautiful than the previous scene. The movie itself is about a man who is falsely accused of murder and must serve twenty years in a state penitentiary. His name is Andy Dufresne (played by Tim Robbins) and he quickly shows himself to be a rather resourceful inmate. Generally speaking, the other inmates respect him. And perhaps more importantly (at least for the purpose of the scene) the warden finds his talents quite useful for his own designs. More to the point, Andy used to be a banker and so is able to help the warden (and others) get around paying some of their taxes. As a result, he is given special privileges, which he generally uses to benefit his fellow inmates and bring a little humanity inside those prison walls. In one instance he continually petitions the state for books in order to start a prison library. After failing on numerous occasions to have his request granted, he apparently annoys them so much that they finally send him books just to shut him up. He writes them twice as much after that.

Yet something else was included with the books that was in some ways even more exciting. As Andy opens the boxes he sees that there are vinyl records inside along with the books. He is told rather pointedly by the Warden to get those things out of his office immediately (or by the time he gets back). The warden then leaves and Andy is left with one of the prison guards who apparently trusts him enough to leave him alone as he uses the bathroom. However, while in the bathroom, Andy decides to play one of the albums which happens to be the "Marriage of Figaro". At first the officer simply asks Andy what's going on, but soon Andy gets another idea. He decides to lock the bathroom door as well as the door to the Warden's office. He then proceeds to play the music over the intercom for everyone in the entire prison to hear. Morgan Freeman, who plays the narrator in the film, and who is also one of Andy's fellow inmates and friends, describes it this way; "I don't know what those two Italian ladies were saying, and the truth is I don't want to know. I like to think that it was something so beautiful that it can't be expressed in words and makes your heart ache because of it." If ever there was a scene that epitomizes what movie-making should be, this is it.

However, as a consequence of Andy's "mischief", he receives two weeks in the hole, which must seem like an eternity. Yet when he comes out again and joins his fellow prisoners for dinner, he surprises them by saying that it wasn't that bad because he had "Mr. Mozart" to keep him company the whole time. When they ask him what he means by that, he simply explains that there are some things (inside themselves) that the warden can't take, and that music (among other things) is a necessary reminder that there are places beyond these walls that are not made of stone. Truly, these scenes communicate what all cinema and art should seek to communicate. They remind us that amidst our earthly strife, we must never forget that there is a beauty beyond the prison walls of daily life, lyrics to a song so beautiful that they cannot be transcribed in this life, and "make your heart ache because of it."

  
       

A Case of Hypocrisy So Terrible It Cries Out To Heaven...

After observing the media's stunning indifference to the Hermit Gosnell "house of horrors" abortion trial, I felt both haunted and hunted by the whole thing. I suppose one could argue that the "fetal blood bath" (these are the words of those who worked there, not mine) that took place in that Philadelphia clinic is the exception rather than the rule, though it is an exception that would likely have gone unnoticed were it not for the women who were maimed and/or died as a result of their abortions. Then again, even with that being the case, precious little has been said in the national media about it. Why? Because there's a dirty little secret surrounding the abortion debate, a deceit that screams to high heaven. The ugly truth is that "choice", at least for the hard-core advocates, was never really about protecting women's rights at all, but rather about protecting abortion at all costs. If some women have to suffer death in the process, so be it. What's a few sacrifices in the name of keeping it legal?

Yet this remarkable treachery extends well beyond those who actively promote abortion. Indeed, if you want to know the reason vile places like this still exist, look not first to the abortion doctors like Gosnell, but to the silent majority who lack the moral conviction to truly oppose abortion. Yes, it is fair to say that abortion is still legal not because there are too many people that are adamantly "pro-choice", but because too many people are only partially pro-life. For even as we continue to be horrified about the abuse of our little ones, we strangely turn a blind eye to the ill-treatment of... well... our little ones.

Two examples which epitomize this hypocrisy come from the states of Illinois and Florida. The first story, describes an Illinois woman who just received a fifty year prison sentence for giving birth to, and leaving, her newborn child to die on the side of the road in a bag filled with soiled laundry.

http://www.foxnews.com/us/2013/04/06/ill-mom-frozen-baby-given-50-year-sentence/

The second story involves a Florida court hearing wherein a Planned Parenthood lawyer attempts to explain why the organization she represents is against legislation that compels a doctor to save the life of child born as a result of a botched abortion. Behold the similarities of both cases: child born and thrown away with some dirty laundry on the side of the road... outrage; child born and thrown away in a dumpster filled with human waste and used medical supplies... ambivalence and uncertainty.

I have always hated when people are too quick to pull out the "Hitler card", because it tends to immunize people from a healthy horror of the name and the associated reality. But when you look at the willful ignorance that seems to pervade public discourse on these matters, one cannot help but to think of all the people who turned a blind eye during the holocaust in spite of hearing all of whispers and rumors about Germany's own "house of horrors" at Dachau and Auschwitz. It is not the abortion doctors that are primarily responsible for making all of this possible, but the deafening silence of those who either prefer not to know the truth, or those who do know, but lack the moral courage to speak it. Indeed, these are the ones who allow this most abominable industry to continue to fly under the radar.

         

State Farm and the Book of Genesis

In the book of Genesis, God says "Let there be Light..." and there is light. The remarkable thing about this is not just that God can demand that light should appear and it does, but the fact that God actually invented light itself. I may be able to bake a mean batch of cookies from scratch, but God invented the very idea of cookies... from scratch. As for myself, I can only utilize the materials that God has already placed before me, but God actually invents the materials as well as what those materials can ultimately become. Most recently I was thinking about this, strangely enough, when I was watching the latest State Farm advertisement. As I was watching the commercial (seen above), I began to consider how far we've come in terms of technology. Certainly God didn't use the "Clapper" when he called up out of nothing that glorious reality known as "light," but it is not all that different of a concept when you think about it. In fact, just as everything has quickly gone from push-button to touch screens, soon enough light switches and other appliances will cease to have on-off buttons and instead become completely voice-activated. When seen in this light, one comes to realize that the book of Genesis is not merely a "silly mythical fantasy", but rather a practical reality happening right in front of our face (though the act of creating "ex nihilo" will forever remain a mystery).

On the positive side of things, man's technological insight has offered further evidence that the words of  Genesis are true; "Let us make man in our image and likeness..." Indeed, man has the capacity to mirror God in the most remarkable of ways. As evidenced by modern innovation, he is more than capable of manifesting his thoughts and dreams in a tangible and concrete way. On the darker side of things however (as exhibited by this State Farm commercial), seeking to make manifest everything in one's thoughts and dreams is only good if one's thoughts and dreams are not like those of the serpent in the garden; "You will become like gods, knowing what is good and evil..." Thus, the real question here is: is the God of State Farm more like the God of Genesis, or is he a little bit too much like the Deceiver? At any rate, it is perhaps one of the biggest paradoxes that in order for man to be godly, he cannot regard himself as God at all.

The primary difference between the God of Genesis and the God of State Farm is that the latter exists (at least in the commercial) so that whatever man demands he gets; whether it be a jacuzzi, a girl, or a sandwich. It is all about obtaining whatever I want until I want something else. The former does not demand immediate results, but rather lays the foundation and provides the ingredients for the world to develop into all that He envisions it to be, and perhaps even more. For there are two things in particular in Genesis' creation account that aren't in the State Farm story. Firstly, the creation in Genesis takes place over an extended period of time. Indeed, most good things in life require a little patience (with a garden being no exception). The other important difference between the two accounts is the fact that God's creation is a cooperative effort. God says to the sea; "bring forth life..." Notice he doesn't demand a particular sea creature, he leaves it "up to the sea" to do so. Though it is important to mention that he does "intend" everything, creating "each one according to its kind". This is in stark contrast to the Genie-like (interesting similarity in the word) mentality in the State Farm commercial. For this very reason, I  would like to contrast the former advertisement with the one that I have placed at the bottom. In the one above the guy in the commercial gets everything he demands. However, the one at the bottom is far more amusing, not because both girls get everything they want, but because one of the girls doesn't. Apparently you must not only call out to the agent but you must use the proper words/form of address, and because she doesn't know it, she gets a second rate agent (to put it mildly). Yet how boring this commercial would be without her and her awkward attempt to get an agent? A world filled with naught but a host of Veruca Salts would be down right depressing. Moreover, it should be noted that Ms. Salt did not become happier and happier the more she received, but instead became all the more disdainful because of it. On the other hand, the humor and unpredictability of a world that has everything we need, yet doesn't necessarily deliver in the way that would predict, is far more suspenseful. And despite what AT&T would have us believe "faster is not always better", there are some things (I would argue the best things) which require real time and patience. Yes, what makes this world both beautiful and exciting is not that we get everything the moment we ask for it, but that there are surprises and wonders out there far greater than ones we could have envisioned, and few of those, if any, happen on cue.