Of the World
I recently watched the film Rachel Getting Married (highly recommended). I’m not going to get into the details of the film – though there would be much to write about. Instead, I want to reflect on something I’ve been thinking about since watching the film. The movie is about a wedding (I’m sure you would have never guessed) and contains a number of scenes that are truly beautiful expressions of family, friendship, and love for one another. I don’t remember seeing a film with such moving representations of family. During the rehearsal dinner, a relative of the groom gives a speech and mentions that the company of people at this sacred event are a perfect representation of heaven. I couldn’t agree more. But in the same film there are profoundly dysfunctional elements of family relationships that are equally, if not more heavily represented. This juxtoposition of the beautiful and the awful was quite profound, and true. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
The beautiful and the awful. Joy and sorrow. Hope and despair. We can’t get away from these opposing forces. No matter how much we try. And we do try.
In particular, I’ve been thinking about the tendency of Christians to ignore the awful and focus on the beautiful. There seems to be some element of Christianity that often leads to an anemic optimism and an avoidance of life. We pray, give up our troubles to God, and move on. Or we move through life looking towards heaven. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we should focus on the awful at the expense of the beautiful (at least not all the time), but I think we must embrace the whole of life – even the truly awful. I don’t mean we must resign ourselves to the experience of despair, and I don’t mean we should simply accept the awful, resigning ourselves to a hopeless world. That’s not it at all. Rather, I think we must truly stare the awful in the face and fight it with all our strength. We must work for justice and love and redemption in the world. We must get our hands dirty and risk the potential of sorrow for the potential of joy. In it’s best form, isn’t this what the Christian story says God is doing?
This past Tuesday marked three years since Zach died. I think that experience was the central event that moved Brooke and I in this direction of embracing the whole of life. And I think we are better for this shift in perspective. But I don’t say that lightly. I took some time on Tuesday to reflect on the day Zach died and that period of our lives. It’s still quite dificult to think about. Thinking about that real experience I begin to doubt everything I just wrote in the paragraphs above. I never want to be back in that place. But somehow, I think having been in that place I am now more fit to live life, to experience joy, to love, and to hope. I know that’s not everyone’s experience. I don’t understand it. But I want to live in the beautiful and the awful, the joy and the sorrow, and the hope and the despair. I must.
