To be reconciled

The cross for Christians is often a symbol of atonement. It’s the means whereby people are reconciled with God through the shedding of blood. It’s a beautiful event full of implications for today and the age to come. But honestly, it can be a bit hard to grasp why it had to happen and how it worked.

Thao and Sue are young and bright. They need a bit of direction, but otherwise they are on their way to good lives. However, they live in a gang-ridden neighborhood, which almost guarantees they won’t arrive at the good life in one piece.

Don Miller—a foremost advocate of story and how we each need to be a part of one—offers this succinct definition of story: “A Character that wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.”

Gran Torino points toward the future and “getting it” for Thao and Sue. But the key character in the story, Walt, is seeking his own atonement: reconciliation with himself and peace in his soul from the demons of war. In the process of connecting with his new Hmong neighbors, the trenchant racist Walt finds his elusive peace and helps them overcome the conflict, almost against their wishes. It is obvious that they won’t be able to do so themselves. This variation on classic story resonates well with the Christian message: We all need help to overcome conflict to get that something.

Crosses and blood are ubiquitous symbols in Gran Torino. At times they are mocked by characters; other times they are employed quite reverently by unlikely characters. These lead to one of the most beautiful stories of reconciliation I’ve seen—one that helpfully illustrates an answer to the questions of atonement above.

When the movie began, I feared I was in for a long two hours. Walt is such a crotchety, foul character, but as the story progressed, I felt a certain fondness for him. Clint Eastwood worked a fine masterpiece producing, directing, and acting this film. His Walt is a strong character whose development we see in fine detail. The plot is not as intricate as the characterization, but there is a strong one. Sometimes the music felt a bit obvious, but it was certainly a foreshadowing cue.

Gran Torino is not a movie for the faint of heart. I know some who would not be able to sit through the language and racism that suffuses this film. But if you can stomach these, there is a rich payoff as you let yourself live in this story of reconciliation and redemption for two hours.

Jonah

So here it is, a month since my last post. I never wanted to be like this, but my life tipped into unsustainability. It's not getting better anytime soon, so I'd better post.

I wonder what tone of voice Jonah spoke in when he said, "I'm angry enough to die." This is actually quite an important question. It reveals his character, just as getting to know his character through the story reveals how he would speak this sentence. My two main thoughts for how he sounded are that he screamed this line or he deadpanned it.

If Jonah screamed, "I'm angry enough to die," I see two options. He was a petulant little girl. Or he was genuinely, utterly enraged.

If Jonah said matter-of-factly, "I'm angry enough to die," I see another three options. He was being melodramatic. He was being ironic. Or he grew up a manipulative shrew who was used to getting his own way if he spoke out of line. The latter would probably mean his mother was a hand-wringing pushover.

Whichever way we slice it, God wouldn't have it. I think God told Jonah, "You're on Candid Camera!" Or maybe he merely said, "There you are, an object lesson for all future generations. You happy now?"

In my opinion, Jonah was a whiny brat (see "melodramatic" above). I imagine the people in his hometown of Gath Hepher would have been relieved if Jonah had remained former, now digesting, fish bait. But somehow, God used this petty chump to draw repentance from an incredibly evil, powerful empire.

I truly hope that I am available for God's work, if for no other reason than to avoid being swallowed by a fish. I'm not a seafood guy.