thoughts on a sunday

I watched this movie twice this weekend. Why? Because it’s amazing. Hitchcock has this way of just sucking you into a story, despite the way they may seem dated by many of todays standards or better yet, expectations, of film. The contrast of light, the brilliant colors (even in his black and white movies), the always dynamic leading man and the signature Hitchcock blonde; couple these things with a creative and timeless story and the films still are stunning. Hitchcock was known to labor over his work, building elaborate sets and even breaking for days at a time to ponder potential holes in the plot to make sure the stories are intelligent and complete. Often times I’ve heard friends pass these movies off as dated, that the suspense doesn’t hold up, but to me it’s like saying Faulkner or Hemmingway are dated compared to contemporary literature. You have to know where the art is coming from, especially if you are going to watch it for arts’ sake.

I’ve heard it said many times that what set the films apart was Hitchcock’s use of our most basic emotion, fear. I got to thinking about that claim and I affirm it. If love is our most noble and precious emotion, our most fulfilling and even heart-aching, and if fear is the absence of love (I’ve heard this as well and I agree), then fear is certainly our most basic emotion. When all of the love and compassion in our lives is taken away, what is left? Fear. No wonder it has such an effect on every aspect of our lives. Hitchcock’s films are a case study of ordinary people responding to fear and it’s fascinating.

As I am thinking about this, I am sitting on my back porch reading 1984 and listening to the music the hispanic family down the street is playing rather loudly. I think about diversity, about how grateful I am to live in a part of town that embraces diversity, how I love it. I think about how many people don’t love it and refuse to embrace it, see it as a threat even, and as a result fear the presence of minorities in their neighborhoods. I even grew up in a neighborhood that once forbid Jews and African-Americans to live there. This adds paranoia to our lives, causing us to lock our car doors at intersections or avoid all but the main roads when out for a jog. This drives property values down and causes schools to deteriorate. This tells people their communities aren’t worth having pride in, that their ambitions aren’t as valid as the rest of us. This adds to the difference, and that saddens me.

I look back down at the book and read a striking line. “Orthodoxy is unconsciousness.” What a striking line! While the book is talking about government, I can’t help but think about religion. I thought about how orthodoxy can be so beautiful and rooted in meaning (think prayer postures and the use of early church art to help the illiterate), but I also think about how a lot of it is rooted in a church tradition that feared its membership growing outside the teachings of the church. Their fear of individual spirituality spurred a myriad of church tradition that attempted to squelch the expression of many great thinkers and artists (think Galileo). It is as if somewhere down the line much orthodoxy is rooted in fear, even with the best intentions and methods, because it says, “I do not trust you to do this on your own.” Our modern churches are certainly guilty of this fear as well, turning our physical churches into shelters from the world around us, shutting out the dark to protect us from the things that threaten to destroy our neat Christian existence. We teach self-centered theology, that the church is more of a building running on time-tested schedules than a body of believers shining in the darkness. Spirituality becomes strict religion, born of our fear.

At this, I put my book my book down and started to ponder spirituality and nature, the way that I have been so blessed to experience God through creation. A tree in my backyard is blooming small pink blossoms, budding out of tight yellow-green clusters. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know what kind of tree it is but I am struck by its beauty. I grabbed my vintage camera (thanks Dad) and took some pictures of the flowers. I see my Lord here and I am so thankful for a God that says, “I trust you enough to see me in creation, in the small details of your life, working it out without having it all written out for you.” There is no fear here, only love. How amazing!!!

So why then do I experience so much fear in my life? Work with me as I’m tracing through a lot of thoughts here but fear is an undeniable topic this weekend. If you read down through this blog or have talked with me at length, you’ll know I have my fair share of insecurities. These exist mostly in social and musical contexts and still often mystify me. When I think about dating, I get so clammy and nervous and rarely act upon any impulse to get to know anyone. I fear going to parties or even gatherings with people from my church. When I play somewhere, I worry about whether or not my playing fits, or if my gear sounds good despite the fact I know I am a capable, competent guitarist with some terrific sounding equipment. Even this morning at church, someone asked to hear my new amplifier (which is sweet, by the way) and I was worried about whether or not he would like how it sounded. These things might not seem like much but that’s precisely the point; why do I experience fear in areas I have no reason to? It is such a part of our lives, and such an un-Godly thing.
I need to be reminded of fear and its manifestations that I may learn to live in love. I am grateful of Christ’s love, its unconditional and uncompromising ways, the way it is completely void of fear and I pray to live in love with God and with people around me.

blessings!