home | search | poll | current columns
By Steve Lansingh | A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about several movie quotes that had become a kind of shorthand God uses to remind me of how to behave and believe. Once I was put on the lookout for them, I realized I'd missed quite a few. This new batch features quotes that depend more on the context and conversation than the stand-alone observations from my last article, but despite their lack of quotability they've grown attached to me:
"Badly done, Emma!"
So this makes it difficult to accept genuinely constructive criticism. I rarely believe it is coming out of love. So that's why, when it's coming from God, it most often arrives in the voice of Mr. Knightly. In the movie, Emma has just insulted a friend for sport, and Knightly gives her a stern reprimand for it -- not because life would be more pleasant if she behaved, but because he loves her dearly and is distraught over who she is becoming. And you can tell that it pains him to say it, though he must.
When I speak in anger, when I judge before understanding, when only pretend to care -- I am confronted with the voice of God saying "Badly done, Steve!" And I can take it, and repent.
"It's a new world!"
In the film, she says this right after her overnight visit from William Shakespeare. Her nurse knocks on the door and says "It's a new day." She comes out with joy in her heart and counters with "It's a new world!" Perhaps it's not the most seemly movie quote to tie with spiritual renewal -- since in context it's meant to celebrate a night in the sack -- but prudishness aside, first sex is indeed a fine metaphor. I remember that the next morning there was this sense of having been one thing and now being something else. I saw through different eyes. I was awakened, in some sense, to more of the universe than I'd ever been. Sex can make you more present, more alive, and more aware. These are distinctly parallel to the transformations of spiritual rebirth. In both cases, I think, the world is not actually new, but I am.
"Because nobody else can."
In the film, Bruce Wayne uses these words to answer why he has to be Batman. It's not that the police are helpless to fight crime, it's just that since he can do something about evil, he must. Likewise, I don't mean to imply that the world would not fall apart if I were to stop writing -- there's enough solid Christian writers to keep sites like this going without me. What I mean to say is that writing reviews is somehow tied to my vocation as a human being. I've tried and failed at so many things, and yet this thing God continues to bless with new readers, new opportunities, new friends. I feel I am somehow caught up in the will of God here, and while others could do it just as easily, it seems my duty to persevere in it because I can.
I just ran across a wonderful poem by Mother Teresa that speaks of this impulse to follow through on what's been given to you:
"You don't see!"
For some reason, whether it's the delivery of the lines or their content, this scene always makes me shiver. Martha's last line comes as an explosion, a revelation, a whole relationship encapsulated in three words. They are also an indictment of my own self-centeredness. There's a big difference between looking and seeing, and I have always had trouble with the latter.
True sight, I've come to believe, demands presence in every moment. It's easy enough to take in the surface data when I'm running my life on auto pilot, but to see beyond, to read between the lines, requires a total immersion in the event. Learning to love my neighbors starts with being wholly with them rather than going through the motions of conversation, becoming attuned to their true needs and hungers hidden beneath the idle chatter and pleasantries.
Such perception does not come easily to me; like Henry, I usually only recognize the signposts in hindsight. I so often think of the invitation to, for example, go fishing, as the event itself, rather than a silent plea to share my life with someone else. A conversation about, say, the White Sox, is going to make my eyes glaze over instead of prompting me to take interest in what fuels this hometown love. When I catch myself falling into these patterns, God always speaks to me with Martha's consternation: "You don't see!"
"You are also right."
In context, this is a punchline to Tevye's rampant inoffensiveness. In the real world, I've heard it referenced by conservative columnists pointing out the folly of tolerance. But to me there seems to be a kernel of truth in there. It is indeed possible for more than one person to be correct; there are never two sides to a coin, but hundreds.
An example that jumps to mind is a letter I received from one highly annoyed visitor. He condemned us for not contributing to "the endtime harvest" and instead giving in to the evils of Hollywood. When I started my letter in response, I was ready to fight back, but instead saw that, in truth, we were both right. I instead wrote: "Our different approaches will speak to different types of people in the world. For instance, some people wonder if God has any active part in our lives or our world; my reviews reach out to that sort of person. Others are annoyed by the degeneration of culture, and your opinions about rejecting movies appeal to them. Others are artists who feel that the church has rejected them; they will feel included again by sites that show Christians interacting intelligently with art. Each human is unique; God alone knows the best way to reach their hearts."
More and more in my relationships with Christians I am discovering valid ideas and approaches that, even if they are not my own, are "also right." I have become convinced that Christ can live in people of differing convictions. Indeed, it is only as community that we can truly be the Body of Christ as it was meant. So, in trying to bridge gaps and form community stretching across our disagreements, rather than shove my ideas down others' throats, I'm aiming to shine His light and not mine. And I'm becoming something of what Tevye wanted to be: a peacemaker.
Nick Kleszczewski
I would like to earnestly, heartily, disagree with the final quote "You are also right". I think this leads to dangerous thinking, to flippancy, to relativism. We are different, yes, we are likely of different denominational persuasions, yes, and we must respect each other's expressions of truth, even as they differ from our own, but this is a far cry from "tolerance". It is possible to know all the truth and still end up in hell (like how the letter of James speaks of Satan), and it is very important to note Jesus' words "There is so much more for you to learn" without going further, without telling the disciples everything at once, without telling them about the earth revolving around the sun, and like a true gentleman, finding opportunities to share the truth, inasmuch as they were ready, and inasmuch as it moved them to greater love and character. We are to love the Lord our God with our heart, soul, mind and strength... and it is an injustice to the mind to (1) merely ignore the differences without any reconciliation, and (2) ignore honoring God with our hearts (thus love God and love neighbor) for the sake of our minds.
Another great analogy as to what to do with these denominations--in the 40s, after the first successful eye transplant, the formerly blind person had a very hard time being able to do things, simple things, that he was able to do once blind. He couldn't reach for the ketchup bottle, for instance. It appeared smaller, and as he brought it closer, to him, it grew. Of course, after the seeing-eye transplant, he had to practice and learn a whole new set of rules that we all take for granted... perspective, focus, depth.
This ties in so wonderfully with the passage of when Jesus healed the blind man, and he complained that he saw trees walking. And so Jesus healed him again, this time for clarity. On first reading, we can get the sense that the healing didn't "take". But with modern science, we now understand that there's a whole lot more to sight than merely seeing.
How does this apply to the conversation at hand? We have Scriptures and established tradition with Christ's promise that the gates of hell will not prevail against it. Even so, we have nearly 20,000 separate denominations. (The vast majority of them are very small groups who insist the only response to unity is to "get back to the Bible"--and while the sentiment is very true, how come are there so many differences amongst even those???) And while this is terribly unfortunate, it's a reminder that maybe we (as in the Christian body) are not going to get it all right, but we should STILL try as hard as we can to resolve the differences between us (thus, loving God with our minds) but, more importantly, we must put love, true love, not merely the empty promises of "tolerance" in a higher place. This love (heart), as well as our character (soul), as well as knowledge (mind), as well as our actions (strength), all work together.
It is this love that gives us the gumption to boldly declare: "Badly Done, Emma!"
God Bless,
Steve Lansingh
Here's how it breaks down: The Christian life is a balance of law and grace. Both bring us closer to God. Some Christians, when it comes to movies, believe it is evil to watch them because they are not holy. They fall closer to the "law" side, which is very appealing to those who see so much disorder and chaos in the world. For me, having grown up in the church and having seen that the law isn't what saves, I choose to see movies because I trust in God's grace to keep me close to Him and not in a set of rules.
Is one of us better than the other? I don't think so (although for a long time I would have argued that I was). Declaring God's holiness and declaring God's presence in daily life are both honoring to him. What isn't honoring, I think, is the hatred and condemnation in which the letter was posed, and so instead of responding in kind, I tried to reach out to him.
All I was trying to say was that life isn't black and white, and that our "enemies" might not be our enemies after all. In my heart, if not in my words, I was trying to say that we "must respect each other's expressions of truth, even as they differ from our own", as you eloquently put it. I hope I was promoting a response of love and not just empty tolerance.
Use the form below to give feedback on this movie, or to respond to this article. Remember, we want to hear what your opinions are, not just why other opinions are wrong. Comments will be posted within 48 hours.
-- Mr. Knightly (Jeremy Northam), Emma
I don't take criticism very well, and never have. I think it's because most of the time the critic is interested in me becoming like them, and only rarely interested in me. Parents, teachers, letter-writers, etc. have a certain idea of what a child, student, or movie critic is supposed to be, and they want me to conform. They want me to make their lives a little easier. Whenever I perceive the discipline to be more for their sake than for mine, I balk.
-- Viola (Gwyneth Paltrow), Shakespeare in Love
On Sunday mornings, Amanda must arrive at church early to practice with the praise band, and I come along because we only have one car. I usually stay outside, though, and read a devotional book, sing to God, or sometimes just meditate. Sometimes I just stare at a squirrel as it scampers from one place to the next, or a bird as it flies from branch to branch, or sometimes just study a tree from trunk to tips. I spend so much of my week looking at a computer monitor that these Sunday meditations are such refreshment. I seem to watch the world awake; I become so aware of my own physical self and the physical world I exist in. And I hear echoes of Viola's exuberant proclamation: "It's a new world!"
-- Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton), Batman
I've come close to quitting movie-reviewing three times in the past 8 years, and yet each time I've returned to it. This is somewhat unusual for me -- I've started so many things and never followed through, and have quit so many activities I thought I'd love, but writing reviews has remained constant. In part, it's because reviewing gives me a chance to converse with God, and I have found no other method as rewarding or as focused. But another part of it is that I feel God's given me something unique to offer in this dialogue of faith and film. I've been buoyed time and again by the conviction that I must keep exploring "because nobody else can."
Love has a hem to her garment
That reaches the very dust.
It sweeps the stains
From the streets and lanes
And because it can, it must.
Perhaps, in time, my vocation will be revealed to be more than just reviewing films; maybe I've just tasted one small corner of all God wants to do in me. Maybe it's simply love that I am called to contribute. I long to keep hearing God tell me where I should minister where "nobody else can."
-- Martha Hackett (Marisa Tomei), The Paper
A very pregnant Martha Hackett is causing a scene on the streets of New York as her reporter husband, Henry (Michael Keaton), attempts to squirm out of dinner to chase a story. He tries to quiet her down, but it backfires. "Don't you notice -- when I keep talking louder it's because you haven't heard!" she fires back. "You don't listen, Henry!" He feebly comes back with "I do listen ...", but she cuts him off: "You don't see!"
-- Tevye (Topol), Fiddler on the Roof
Tevye is the peacemaker of his village, trying to make everyone as happy as possible. He wants happiness for his daughters, for his wife, for his neighbors -- even though they aren't readily compatible. So when two villagers get into an argument, Tevye listens to each of their stories and agrees with them both that they are right. Another villager confronts him and says they cannot both be right, to which Tevye replies "You are also right."
READER RESPONSES
Sorry for the long posting.
Nick
Perhaps I wasn't clear about what I meant by "You are also right." I was not supporting weak-minded tolerance and bland relativism -- ick! I was trying to share a personal anecdote about a time I realized that maybe I didn't have all the answers in the universe. I was trying to offer an olive branch of reconciliation and understanding in a situation filled with tension and anger. I don't support a "live and let live" philosophy, but I was hoping to communicate to that reader the idea that God uses different people in different ways.