After watching an uncharacteristic three movies (Braveheart, Forrest Gump, Batman Begins)this weekend, and considering my emotional response to each, I’ve realized that it’s easy for people to want to live “movie lives.” The movies present a vision of life that is so neat, so clean, so glamorous that it leaves this life feeling dry, rote, and listless. This goes beyond escapism. There’s a part of us, I think, that wants not simply to make an exciting escape to fantasy-land, but to coolly and calmly exchange the slow growth and quiet pace of this life for flashy romance, emotionally empowered conversations, and convicted action that always leads to god results.
But real life is so much more messy than all that. There’s trash in the corner, grime in the tub, and hurt in the heart. But this is the stuff of life, the authenticating brand, and in it we discover real humanity and the presence not of quick-cutting action, but of a faithful, consistent, kind God. The movies are fun for an hour or two, but real life gives flesh to existence in a way no moving picture can do.
