One Paragraph Review: Annie Hall

In the attempt to broaden my Woody Allen repertoire, I requested Annie Hall from Netflix almost three months ago; unfortunately, it sat forgotten on a shelf until tonight when I finally decided Trey and I needed a little cultural education. We enjoyed the movie well enough, but really, apart from the typical review I could write (Woody is a sad, but brilliant man; Diane Keaton is charming and absolutely deserved her Oscar; the sexual revolution has been as full of hypocrisy as anything else; were the 70s really that drug infested?), I only have one real takeaway from the film and it has nothing to do with Annie Hall. In fact, it has to do with (500) Days of Summer, or as I will now be calling it The 2009 Movie That Completely Ripped Off One Of Woody Allen's Most Brilliant. I mean, really, the two films are almost identical! Except that one was an original idea with iconic scenes and dialogue delivered by some of Hollywood's greatest and the other was a hipster rip-off by someone who either didn't care enough about the history of film to know he was copying a classic or who did know exactly what he was doing and had the gall to recognize that the average American under 30 wouldn't. The most surprising thing is that nothing has changed in 30 years concerning our views on wisdom; the moral of both movies remains the same - romantic/sexual relationships burn us, but we need them, so let the cycle continue.

Thoughts from High Fidelity

"So maybe what I said before, about listening to too many records messes up your life... maybe there's something in it after all... It seems to me that if you place music (and books, probably, and films, and plays, and anything that makes you feel) at the centre of your being, then you can't afford to sort out your love life, start to think of it as the finished product. You've got to pick at it, keep it alive and in turmoil, you've got to pick at it and unravel it until it all comes apart and you're compelled to start all over again. Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as a consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship."
- Nick Hornby

Blindness

"There are a whole lot of people who are blindly stumbling their way through life. But their blindness is made even more powerful and dangerous by the fact that they tend to be blind to their blindness. A physically blind person is never blind to his blindness. He's immediately confronted with the fact that he's unable to see, and he gives himself a whole catalog of ways to live inside the boundaries set by this profound physical deficiency. The scary reality is that one of the things that keeps spiritually blind people blind is that they're not only convinced they see, but they're also convinced that they see quite well! And so they don't seek help for their blindness. Why seek help for a condition from which you are convinced you don't suffer?

So, whenever you encounter a person who sees himself - or herself with precision, clarity, and accuracy, you know for sure that grace has visited that individual. It's only God's grace that can enable blind eyes to see, and it's only God's grace that can produce in us the willingness to accept what we've seen." - Paul David Tripp

"I can't even judge myself. Only the Lord can say, 'Well done.'" - Sara Groves

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In the past few years, but particularly this last one, I have started to realize just how dependent I am on the Father's grace, particularly when it comes to seeing my sin. I used to think by default that grace was needed in the act of repentance and the process of change. And of course it is, but how can I know of what to repent or in what direction to change if I cannot truly see what is in my own heart?

The students I know in Asia have particularly revealed this to me because as we talk about sin in their lives, I am forced to wonder about sin in my own life. It is easy to think of common answers to the question, "What do you repent of?" But it is much more difficult to see what is deep in my soul causing fights with roommates, an unwillingness to be honest, fear of man, selfishness. Even in times of reflection and quiet, I find myself simply asking God to reveal my sin to me so I can repent. I know something is wrong, I feel it is wrong in my soul, but I can't see or name it. I cannot create holiness in myself because I am blind to what is unholy about me in the first place.

There is peace in Sara Groves' words "I can't even judge myself. Only the Lord can say, 'Well done.'" It is impossible for me to live by my own standards with open eyes - I'm blind to failings against my own personal code of life. No amount of endless navel-gazing could reveal to me my shortcomings. I can't fully know the recesses of my mind, my heart, my soul. Resting in the Father's grace starts at the most basic level of trusting he knows me better even than I know myself. He is my Creator and my Sustainer whose mercy opens my eyes to areas of sin. Because he knows me, I can know myself. Because he reveals sin, I can repent. Because he has a plan, I can know in what direction to change. I can't judge myself, but rather hold on to the guiding hand of the One who sees and knows all things as he slowly opens my eyes from a sleeping blindness to a glorified wakefulness.

Poverty

In Walking With the Poor, Bryant Myers discusses the varieties of poverty we find in our world. He writes that we are all poor and need others to address our poverty whether it's financial, spiritual, emotional, etc. I may be able to assist someone who is financially disadvantaged compared to myself, but there are many ways that same person can speak to my particular form of poverty. I thought this was an excellent idea when I first encountered it, but living in Washington, DC, has caused me to experience it.

One day not long after moving to DC, my roommate Christie and I were approached by a woman asking for money as we walked out of church. I was usually pretty good at just shrugging off such requests, but Christie couldn't do so as easily. Neither of us wanted to just hand over cash and we fumbled for words. To this day, I don't really know what happened, but somehow the words "dinner" escaped our mouths and the next things we knew, Gloria was walking us down the street to buy her dinner. I was grumpy and felt pushed into the situation, but as the evening went on, I started to realize just how much my heart needed such pushing. During the past months since our first encounter, my heart has been challenged again and again to love this woman.

Today, though, I realized how much Gloria has not just been a challenge for me, but a tool from God to address my own poverty. Since I am moving, I decided to give Gloria my bed rather than try to sell it or store it for the next two years. It seemed like a rather simple thing to do. But as the time grew closer to actually give it away, I started to cling to this possession. My heart came up with so many excuses such as Christie having a matching bed, the sheets and comforters were my favorite all through college, maybe I would need it after returning from Asia, etc.

But I forced myself to give it away. A friend graciously helped me move and set up my bed for Gloria and as we left her apartment waving goodbye, he asked me, "Are you going to miss Gloria?" "Yes," I responded. Thoughts raced through my mind and I came up with many things I will miss about her, but I will especially miss the way having her in my life forces me to hold my possessions more loosely. Knowing Gloria has shown me my spiritual poverty, the way I cling to things, unable to acknowledge that everything truly is God's. I may have given Gloria a bed, but she has given me a new sense of security in the Lord.