Becoming King

I finally got around to seeing The King's Speech after numerous testimonies concerning its brilliance. Michala and I snuck away on her birthday to catch a late night showing. We enjoyed a completely empty auditorium which made us feel very important, as if it were a private showing. Despite my a slight fever, we settled into our seats and set our expectations high. We were not disappointed.

By now, most are familiar with the basic storyline of King George's stutter and the help he receives to deliver a speech at the outset of World War II. While the story offers little surprises, it delivers big on content. At its core, this is a story of friendship and transformation and the link between the two. When Bertie (the King's common name to his family) first encounters Lionel, his speech therapist, he is standoffish and unwilling to commit to anything other than pure mechanics. Lionel knows that the stutter is less a product of poor mechanics than of a poor soul and it is only through inner change that Bertie is finally able to produce mechanically. This serves as a great picture of what a group of men I meet with called "being vs. doing."

During our last meeting, we each shared our hopes for our families and careers. Interestingly enough, each of us offered tangible goals as our career hopes, things like opening a restaurant, starting a church, singing music, things that we do. But when we shared our hopes for our families we shared instead rather intangible things, such as our daughters being emotionally healthy and happy, that they would love God and their fellow man, hopes not of what they would do but of what they would become. After this, we posed the question, "what does God our Father hope for us?" We soon realized that He was far more concerned about who we were becoming than what we would do. Even if we accomplished every career goal but had not love, it might just be meaningless.This truth was driven home by the transformation Bertie undergoes in the King's Speech.

Even though Bertie is initially hesitant to explore his heart and not just his mouth, the death of his father begins to bring his pain and insecurities to the surface. Lionel is there to hear him and comfort him. Perhaps in a moment of greatest vulnerability what we need most is not help but a simple presence, especially that of a friend. It is here, that Lionel's goals to "get at" Bertie's heart actually leads away from their professional relationship and towards a friendship.

All throughout the story, Lionel refuses to call Bertie by his proper titles such as "Your Majesty," eventually this becomes indicative of their friendship and of their mutual respect. Later Lionel is exposed as not being an actual doctor and yet, he argues, titles are meaningless without any substance. It is not the title that defines Lionel but who he is and Berte soon realizes that his title also gives him no real rights. Yet in the face of war Bertie begins to find courage to face his own fears so as to help the nation face their collective fears. As he addresses a nation on the brink of war, he speaks of standing up to fear and perhaps he speaks less of the Nazis as of his own demons. Yet he delivers the speech and in the process triumphs over his fears. As he emerges, Lionel looks into his eyes and finally calls him by the name he has finally grown into, "Your Majesty." Bertie is now the true King, not because he has spoken well, not because of what he has done but because of what he has become, courageous.

It was only with the help of his friend that he is able to be transformed. It was only with the help of my friends that my ideas of success have been transformed, and hopefully it with the help of a friend that each of us may one day be transformed and fill the form of who we are with the substance of our being.

True Grit: Review and Reflection

As the snow fell on the Colorado Foothills this past Wednesday, excitement grew within my home.  This night we were to see True Grit, the new Coen Brothers movie starring one of my favorite actors, Jeff Bridges.  I received an ominous call from our viewing companion in which the soundness of our plan was challenged due to the winter weather.  I reminded my friend of the movie's title and all question of canceling was put to rest.  While this resembled humor, I was dead serious, I busting at the seams to see this movie. Rarely do movies exceed my expectations and I had rather high ones for this film. Thankfully, I was surprised by this work of art.  I know that our culture (especially my generation) has devalued the use of superlatives by claiming that every new item, event, movie, song, or even candy bar is "epic" or "life-changing."  So with no small amount of trepidation I can say that True Grit was one of the best movies I have ever seen.  While no doubt many other works of great cinema have alluded me, this was a stroke of genius compared to the stale stories I have endured over my film-viewing experience.  It contained rich characters, surprising dialogue, dark humor, intensely-understated imagery, a compelling score of reinvented hymns, and a pace that demanded your attention; it was simply a good story.  The movie forced me to count the severe cost of revenge, to hope for redemption in even the most stubborn, and to wonder if I could possibly tell such a captivating story.  When the show was over, I just sat silent in my chair, paralyzed by the sheer beauty of it all.  I love these moments when I try not to put thoughts or words to what I am experiencing, but I just simply experience it.  N. T. Wright shares a story of a classical ballerina who after performing an epic piece is asked what it meant.  She replies, "If I could express what it meant in words, I would not have to dance it."  I pray for more story-telling, more art, more dance such as this, leaving us with a burning hearts and inadequate words.

The Social Network: A Response

I am rather refreshed when I encounter a good movie.  Unfortunately, that occurs less and less often these days.  However, I was pleasantly surprised by The Social Network, the story behind Facebook and its founder, Mark Zuckerberg.  This movie has all those classic aspects that make a film wonderful: compelling characters, intelligent plot structure, tension and release; but it also offers an emotional bang through its timeliness; in general with the popularity of Facebook and in particular with my own life.  I was riveted at the tenacity of Mark in his entrepreneurial quest because of my own similar aspirations.  I want Mark's drive, work-ethic, and clarity of mission and yet I do not envy him.  His is, in a way, an oddly tragic story.  Despite being the youngest billionaire in the world, the king of social connecting, seems utterly disconnected.

Nailing down Mark's reason for pursuing Facebook is hard, but I believe it is a yearning to be accepted, to belong.  And yet that passion for friendship pushes away his only friend.  I felt pity on Mark in the final scene as keeps refreshing his computer, waiting for a friend confirmation. Jesus' once said, "what does it profit a man if he gains the world but forfeits his soul?"  I was challenged to asses my own definitions of success.  

So often, success is bound up in material things such as money and fame.  I know that behind my sometimes pleasant-appearing character, a selfish boy is lurking, wanting all eyes and all praise on him.  This is why I, like many others, take criticism so hard, because critique says "you can do better" and what I want to hear is "you are perfect."  In essence, I want to be God.  And yet, gracefully, I am not.

I once heard that sin is merely the perversion of something good.  For example, sex was created to be a beautiful gift that brought life into the world, but perversion has turned it into something vastly different, bringing instead death into our world.  There is something good underneath the scars of our pride: a longing to be like God, the perversion is we dropped the "like" from that statement.  We have always had a divine spark within that begs us to be something more than we currently are; not just better, but utterly different.  And this is indeed a goal worth dying for.

Mark Zuckerberg wanted to be something different and focused his vision upon that goal with piercing clarity.  Yet he lacked clarity in what it meant to be different, in what his soul truly longed for and he found himself further away than when he started.  Success in life is not bound up in accomplishments, accolades, money, or even relationships but in being like the one whose name is synonymous with love.  This and only this can satisfy the longings of our souls.  At the risk of sounding cliche, we are all like Mark waiting for the right person to approve our friend request, hoping that it will somehow change us, but I am afraid they rarely do. The approval we seek is seen most clearly in the life and death of Jesus, God's way of saying He accepts us.  And it this acceptance, perhaps only this acceptance, that will actually change us.

May we as a people seek redemption for our perverted attempts at being like God and filter all our markers of success through the lens of love.  May we know His love and may it make us different, make us new, and make us like God.  Amen