I have always loved the movie Life is Beautiful. Somehow, despite a plot that is heart-breakingly sad, the movie is warmth and love. I remember the first time I saw it. I was taking Japanese in High School and as part of the international language program, all student studying a foreign language at my school were required to see the film, as it was in it's director's native Italian. I sat, a still-wet-behind-the-ears freshman, in the darkened Naro theater in downtown Norfolk with maybe 150 of my peers around me. I laughed and clapped and cried unabashedly, caught up in a beautiful love story between a man and his wife, a father and his son. Myself and the theater were plunged in the poignancy of love and sacrifice and death.
In stark contrast to Life is Beautiful was the cheesy TV movie I watched tonight and yet it elicited the same response from me. I cried unabashedly at the rawness of human emotion, at the hurt and trust and love and brokenness of the shallow characters of the movie. So many times in this life I have wanted to be a robot, no feelings, no emotion. How simple life could be! I would never be offended, never feel betrayed, I could never love and therefore, never lose. I would not feel stressed or sad or even angry, which in my case, could be a great improvement when driving on the freeway.
Embarrassingly enough, my first girlhood crush was on Data the android from Star Trek the Next Generation. Data spent his whole androidal life striving to be more human in action, thought, and emotion. Ironic that I would have attached myself to a character like this when I myself long to feel nothing sometimes. I think of my feelings as a burden most times, something that gets in my way and causes me to sin. But (in the words of Tevye) on the other hand, emotion is God given. What use would I be to a hurt and dying world if I could not sympathize with their pain and struggles? What kind of friend would I be if I could not cry with you when you are hurting or rejoice with you when you are triumphant? What kind of servant would I be to God if I could not show him gratitude and love for what he has done? What would be the purpose of my mouth if I could not smile, laugh, and sing praises? What use are my eyes if I cannot cast them lovingly upon others? What good are my hands reaching out to help if they could not reach out in love and compassion? What good are my feet if they could not walk humbly and obediently before the Lord?
The bible tells me that the heart is deceitful above all things, and I know from experience that I cannot trust my feelings. I trust in the Lord and he makes my paths straight. Yet, he is the infinite Creator and saw fit to endow this fragile vessel with the gift of emotion. He seeks that I keep it in control through his Spirit but also provides that I use it. Our Lord Jesus Christ himself wept at the death of Lazarus, wept with full expression of grief and with, I am sure, great empathy. In righteous anger Jesus overturned the tables of the money changers who dishonored the Father's house with their unscrupulous business practices. But even at the pinnacle of strong emotion, Christ never let those feelings lead him into sin.
I suppose deep down that is truly what I yearn for. I long to feel those emotions but not to let them dupe me into the pit of sin where I must wear the guilt of them like a veil. I long for the Spirit to guide me through my feelings to a place where they are a blessing to myself and to others. I want my life to be characterized by the love and compassion and joy and laughter of Life if Beautiful and not the pain and fear and anger that sin breeds. I want to see life through Christ-colored glasses, the way God sees me, through a glorious haze of Holy Blood. Perhaps this struggle is a see-saw and somehow the Lord and I must find that sublime balance between control and expression. Yet the only picture that springs to my mind now is David, dancing through the streets hardly clothed and completely enraptured in his worship of the God who Is.
Yes, perhaps I will become even more undignified than this...
1 comment:
Beautiful and true. I often become overwhelmed while singing in church, or praying and I cry. It embarrasses me and I feel ashamed. But this kind of response is the kind that God can use to do His work. Thank you for reminding me. I love you. :)
Post a Comment