stranger than fiction

"This Life's dim windows of the Soul
Distorts the Heavens from Pole to Pole
And leads you to Believe a Lie
When you see with, not thro' the Eye."
~William Blake

On Monday, the woman I am closest to in all this world and with whom I have shared the majority of moments was diagnosed with Thyroid Cancer. Being twins, Jessica and I grew up being forced to "share" almost everything; I suppose cancer can now be tragically added to that list. The other night I watched a comedic movie called "Stranger Than Fiction" and somehow that describes the many events that God has allowed to be written into my family biography. The movie details the life of a man who upon waking one morning finds his life to be audibly narrated and consequently "dictated" by an unknown author. This man, named Harold Crick, as he listens to his own life's narration is made aware that his death is imminent. And so he determines to find out whether he is being written as the protagonist in a comedy or a tragedy. Near the end of the film, he comes to the devastating realization that indeed it is a tragedy and that his author, whoever she is, will indeed kill him just as she has the other eight characters in her previous novels. "What? What? Hey! HELLOOO! What? Why? Why MY death? HELLO? Excuse me? WHEN?"

The movie brought up a lot of thoughts--reflections on life, death, whose calling the shots in each, and of course, the meta-narrative of each of our individual life stories. Like Harold Crick, maybe I too should have a little pocketbook of accumulated notes in which I tabulate my comedy vs tragedy tallies. If so, this week I would sadly conclude as Harold did, "This may sound like gibberish to you, but I think I'm in a tragedy."

But we are not mere characters being fictionally toyed with by the insane imaginings of a recluse author. Every event in our lives cannot be reduced to the mere categories of tragedy or comedy. I am beginning to learn that the details of each moment are the occasions for faith or unbelief. Unbelief is the outcome when I read my story with earthly eyes or as Blake calls them, this life's dim windows. Unbelief is an attempt to write my own conclusion; a cursing the heavens in futility. Harold Crick: [extremely annoyed] No I'm not! I cursing you, you stupid voice so SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!

Faith, on the other hand, asks us to see thro' the Eye. Belief directs its cry to the divine mind even though it cannot grasp it. Faith, recognizes that God Himself is indeed pen-ing and that His previous work discloses to us our immediate role in the drama of redemption. In the movie, Harold is solemnly encouraged, "You must die, it's a masterpiece." Similarily, Christ knew those words well.

Our indivdual narratives are comprehended in the prelude that ocurred before we were ever introduced in the scene. Faith "sees" that each chapter of our lives are understood only within the activity and movement of our Creator and Redeemer. As Paul Minear writes, "The new sense of selfhood which stems from this understanding of one's true destiny is often so overwhelming as to revolutionize man's orientation." Our author is not a recluse, but rather is intimately related to his characters. Our story and how it will play out is "now actually constituted by the relationship...'I have given thee a name,' becomes thus practically synonymous with , 'I have chosen thee.' This commisson is no after-thought, no casual occurence, no stroke of fate; it is recognized by man as an essential expression of God's inclusive purpose." Like Harold Crick, we too are created, chosen, and given a message concerning the future. But our role is not to seek out knowledge of all the twists and turns and try to control them; it is to live by faith and not by sight. We already know what kind of story we're in...and it is a masterpiece.

I hate to spoil the film for you, but he lives. Harold's author compromises the beauty of the story by sparing him. But God did not compromise HiStory at any point. He did not spare His own Son, but willingly gave Him up. And Christ willing goes to the cross to secure our victory in the final chapter. And yet, He lives. Near the end of the film, Harold's narrator defends her writing by asking, "if a man does know he's about to die and dies anyway. Dies- dies willingly, knowing that he could stop it, then- I mean, isn't that the type of man who you want to keep alive?"

Keep alive? No.
See resurrected? Yes.
His living means our living.
It's almost stranger than fiction.
Maybe that's why it's meant to be read
thro' the Eye of Faith.