One of the things I've learned from my spouse is the practice and benefit of watching movies more than once. He has certain favorites that routinely get put in the DVD player. Other times—less intentionally but no less habitually—he'll see his favorite movies on television and make sure to hunker down and watch. Again. For the 10th or 25th time.
Our film preferences couldn't be any
more different. He likes old black and whites, "classics," cowboy
movies, superhero stories, family dramas and plots where a rogue individual
breaks out of social conformity in order to liberate the masses. He likes
movies about fighting, struggle, war, and cultural imperialism. He likes Kubrick.
He likes West Side Story, The Matrix, In the Heat of the Night, The Avengers,
and Finding Nemo.
In the beginning of our relationship
I found his preferences odd given that he's a pretty gentle and tame dude. The
stories he gravitates toward don't seem to match his personality. But then I
realized/realize that most of the content he returns to again and again is
about personal and social quest; individuals and groups striving (and sometimes
bloody struggling) to face life head on in all its complexity, to face
seemingly impossible conditions and to come out having fought the good fight.
That narrative arc does match his personality, to a T. Sometimes I get so lost
in my feminist critiques that I miss the “there” there. Besides, that Bible I
preach and teach from each week tops any of J.R.'s movie choices when it comes
to patriarchy and violence. So there's that.
What really tripped me out even more
than the content of his film choices was the repetition. He watched movies over
and over and over again! This was new to me. I didn't come from a family where
you watched movies more than once. Been there done that. You know? Well, maybe
my mom watched "The English Patient" more than once, but it was an
exception to the rule.
Like most family "patterns,"
you don't really notice them or notice the lack of them, until you crash into
folks who come from other/differing family patterns. If you marry into a family
where the patterns are barely recognizable to your own, there's good news and
bad news. The learning curve is hella high and you get to learn a lot about
your family of origin and your new family through compare and contrast. You may
be wondering which of those two is the good news and/or the bad news. Yep.
It's not just J.R. that watches stuff
over and over. His sister can recite lines from 20 year old episodes of Star
Trek verbatim. I kid you not. The two of them watched Star Trek together so
much as kids that they can re-enact scenes and dialogues line by line at the
dinner table now without missing a beat. It's sensational, truly…and totally
not my story.
I watched certain movies a lot as a
kid (The Karate Kid was my absolute favorite), but not as an adult. I thought
repetitive viewing was something you outgrew when variety became accessible.
Before entering this marriage, the only movie I can remember watching
repeatedly as an adult was Half Baked. I was a freshman in college and the
title matched my life style (if you catch my drift.) It didn't last long. Thank
you, Jesus. Point being: in those early days of our relationship, I could not
wrap my head around why a person would watch a movie over and over.
Then I had kids. Now I watch the same
movies multiple times in a week! Change is real, y’all. So. Freakin. Real.
When I was in Religious Studies in
2003 I took an independent study course in the New Testament. My professor,
Rev. Dr. Barry Sang, knew me well and therefore pushed me hard academically. He
had me read entire books of the Bible along with their scholarly companions,
critiques, exegetes, etc. It was the first time I'd read the bible as an
academic, not a church-goer. The angles, entryways, and explorations were
markedly different when reading critically instead of devotionally. At that
time in my life, it enabled me to engage with the Bible with integrity because
I couldn't read that thing with my heart anymore.
I'd given up on that book (the Bible)
as far as religious truth was concerned. It didn't do it for me. I'd had it
with the gloss-over nonsense I'd experienced in Church: how no one was willing
to call out the contradictions, the inherent inconsistencies, the external
violence it was causing in the world, the confusion it was ushering into the
lives of womyn and queer people, how it depicted God as a punitive dad drunk
with "His" own power, callous in "His" rage, careless in
"His" actions that clearly made so many innocent and tender and
wondrous people suffer for no good reason at all. I'd had it with that book.
But in college, I was invited into a different
relationship with the Bible, a different way of engaging it. I was told to
bring my questions, to lay bare my critiques, to research history, to research
the authors and their contexts, to research the writing, editing, canonizing
and translating processes. I was invited to pay attention to how power,
privilege, politics, gender, nationalism and imperialism played into the very notion
of Scripture production itself. I was told to think about the impact of all that
on human behavior, human well-being, human progress. I got to say out loud that
I'd take James Baldwin over the Apostle Paul any day--and they (my colleague
scholars and professors) nodded in affirmation instead of shaming me for
apostasy! I learned to love engaging the Bible again, albeit in a very, very
different way. The book was the same, but I was different and so the
relationship was different.
Hmmmm...maybe there is value
in returning to texts (I'm using "texts" very broadly here: films,
literature, scores of music, etc.) over and over. But what exactly is that
value?
I think it has something to do with
spiritual formation and gratitude. When you return to a movie or a book or song
over and over, after a while you being to see how much your own lens, your context
of curiosity, rage, hope, and yearning--your very being in space and
time--determines what parts of that text appeal to you. You realize that said
text has a much more expansive reality outside of your limited context.
For instance, as a college-going baby
feminist, I couldn't stand the life trajectory or writings of Paul. But as a
person engaged in white anti-racism work that requires seeing what's been
rendered invisible and constantly deconstructing privilege, I can totally
relate to "scales falling from the eyes." Paul's experience not only
makes sense to me in new ways, but has become an authoritative and new,
exciting, teacher. My own life course has changed my orientation to that text.
But that's not where the revelation stops. It's not just about what the text
does for you. It's also about the text itself.
Any text worth going back to again
and again reveals its own inherent, multifaceted brilliance over time. If you
find that at various points in life, while engaged with that text, it takes on
new and significant meaning, there's something in its original design worth
noting. Anything packed with stuff that keeps you coming back can be considered
a faithful companion, a lover, and should be regarded/treated as such, with
gratitude and faithfulness in return. Just because a scene, line or stanza doesn’t
take on a new meaning for you doesn't mean that goodness wasn't there all
along. Ya, feel me? Give credit where credit is due. It's a practice.
Sometimes it takes a while to wake up
to just how good our companion/lovers are even though they've been good from
day one. Isn't it grand that we are given multiple companions and lovers that
keep us coming back for the nourishment of our souls over time, even when we
don't recognize/realize/embrace it?! Sometimes they just sit there
unacknowledged, under-utilized, collecting dust, and then BAM we pick them back
up and go at it again. They're not only willingly there for you, but they're
more brilliant and impactful than before, despite the neglect! Sounds like
grace to me. Grace abiding. Grace abounding.
Thank God for the capacity to return and hit repeat.
No comments:
Post a Comment