Gravy

I have a friend who is very kind and intelligent, and luckily also very resourceful because the automobile he owns can just barely be classified as such. The tires are bald, the paint is oxidized, the driver side wing window is shattered and patched by duct tape, and the rear window is completely missing (I understand it just popped out on the highway one day and was completely atomized). Actually, several months after the window mishap I noticed he had replaced it with a shower curtain, cut to size and taped in place. The curtain lasted for perhaps six months, and was as I recall actually slashed by some unidentified rascals in the end. No further effort was made to repair the window. He describes the car by saying, "It's not just an eye sore, it's also a health hazard." I told him five years ago he needed to get a new ride because there was no way that one was making it through the winter. When I see he has managed to actually drive it somewhere yet again, I remind him that each successful start is just gravy.

I received an email today from another friend of mine. Her dad had just gotten out of a seven hour surgery to remove his colon and the cancer which had overtaken it. She is staying with him for a few days because he can now do nothing for himself and is in extreme pain most of the time.

I'm not sure why my friend's email reminded me of my other friend's car, but it did. Perhaps it's because I know, though I am not always conscious of it, that each day this world and I exist together is really just gravy. Maybe I'd actually like someone to remind me each time I get out of bed (though probably not in person because that'd be more creepy than anything else) how no one is promised tomorrow, but in this particular case it was graciously given to me in all its weight and beauty.

"But life," one might say "day in and day out is not weighty and beautiful, it's ugly and meaningless." I don't agree with that conclusion and I think it's based on some misunderstandings, but that discussion is too large for this space, and is better had in person anyway. Suffice it to say Jesus loves changing things (as evidenced by the names of Peter and Paul), and given a chance I'm sure he would love to change this perspective on life as well.

I realize of course the vast number of times and ways in which this idea has been expressed. I'm even aware of how cliche most of those expressions have become. However, I do not believe the concept to be less worthy for its frequent repetition, and even though I know it is unrealistic and perhaps even unproductive to think one can constantly carry such an idea in the forefront of their consciousness, I still can't help but believe that even an occasional recollection of something as grand as the preciousness of another sunrise refreshes the natural nobility and honor of a person's soul. It is such a soul that can truly carpe diem.

The Reel world

We went to see "Stranger Than Fiction" the other night. It's playing at the Reel (also known as the Dx3 (dollar times three) Theatre, or sometimes just Ghetto), though it was only released a couple of months ago. This means people were no longer paying full price to see it, so it was re-heated and served again at a discount. As a frequenter of the Reel I've become somewhat familiar with the pattern. If a movie stays in the regular theatres for a long time, it's probably worth the few bucks to go see it on the big screen, and it will be what is expected. However, if a movie moves quickly from the full price theatre to the one where sound and picture together on the first try is a happy surprise, that movie is a bit of a gamble. On the one hand the simple fact that the majority of Americans did not find it appealing arouses some curiosity, but on the other hand a movie that not even Americans were bored enough to watch raises some suspicions. In this case though the movie does indeed feature Mr. Will Farrell, so I figured we had the odds on our side.

I'm not going to review the film because next to another Christian self-help book, another movie review is the last thing anyone needs. But, I will say it's better than average and probably worth seeing.

I think the theme of the movie is something like "our lives are wonderful and beautiful because of the simple things around us, like a smile from someone you love, or a tree, or a cookie, or a watch." This is a worthy enough thought, made better only by answering the question of why this is so, but there is also a sub-theme along the lines of "doing what you've always wanted to do, and not doing what you don't want to do leads to a more fulfilling and complete life." This I think goes along with a more general theme running through much of American entertainment which makes the claim that doing what you want to do is more noble and admirable than doing what you don't want to do, which I think just dovetails nicely into the human propensity for selfishness.

I am all for an excellent life, lived fully and well. But I don't agree with the notion that a life well lived must necessarily include all manner of activities thought to be desirable at the time, or that it must preclude anything felt to be dreary or unappealing. Certainly life consists of a mix of these things (sometimes in a greater degree one way or the other), and the mindset that "carpe diem" means avoiding or abandoning undesirable activity in favor of something deemed to be more glorious can lead only to discontentment or irresponsibility, or both. Attempting to gain complete satisfaction and fulfillment from any object, including an event or an occupation or a lifestyle is, in the words of a wise man, just "chasing after the wind".

In the end we find that almost no work is more inherently noble or glorious than another, once we remove mankind's perceptions from the equation and see only the heart with which the work is undertaken. Put another way, it is not the work which makes a person noble, honorable, or glorious, but rather a person who has always the ability to make nearly any work noble, honorable, and glorious. There are obviously occupations which are exceptions to this, but I believe they are few and rare. I would also submit that persons have a much greater chance of shaping things in this manner should they have a personal acquaintance with the essence of glory, honor, and nobility; which just makes Jesus's invitation to friendship all the more appealing.