Bayard, Inigo, and Me--May 10, 2018
"For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, 'Abba! Father!' it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ--if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him." [Romans 8:14-17]
Knowing you who are is important.
When you are clear about who you are--not simply your name and phone number, but who you are deep in your bones, whose you are, and what sort of character you want to have--when you are clear on these things, it's funny how you get a kind of clarity that lets you face pain and danger and risk with your eyes wide open.
Take Inigo Montoya as a case in point.
I deeply hope you are familiar with that character, because he comes from one of my favorite movies of all time, the 1980s classic fairy-tale-comedy-adventure The Princess Bride. And if I may say so, it is one of those movies that does a great deal of theology without knowing it is a theology movie. And, if I may further bend your ear with a recommendation, if you have not ever seen The Princess Bride, I implore you to cancel your weekend plans and rent, stream, or buy it somewhere. You're welcome in advance.
Fans of the movie will already know that Inigo is clear--absolutely so, with utter resolve--about who he is, and what he is meant to do in the world. He is on a quest to avenge his father, who was murdered (in typical adventure-story/fairy-tale fashion) by a six-fingered man. His whole identity is caught up in being the son of his murdered father, and his quest for justice against the six-fingered man led him to train in fencing for years so that he could master swordsmanship as he awaited the day when he would once and for all dispense with his father's killer. He has even practiced a speech, which he recites to himself quite a number of times in the course of the movie, which has become a sort of credo for him. It goes like this (fans of the movie, you can say it along with me here): "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
That mission gives him his direction, and that purpose gives him the courage and willingness to face down enemies, risk great dangers, and to keep pouring his energy, time and resources toward finding the six-fingered man and, in his mind, getting justice for his father. And importantly, because he knows who he is, and what he is about, he is not ruled by fear--he can duel with an deadly opponent, take on mortal combat, and put his life on the line, not because he is confident he'll always win or that there's nothing dangerous out there, but because his clarity of purpose pushes him to do whatever he must for the sake of finding the six-fingered man. How does he remember that purpose, that identity? He recites the mantra: "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." And it gives him both courage and clarity.
The New Testament says that the Spirit gives us that same assurance of who we are, and with that assurance, we, too, have courage to face whatever slings and arrows, sufferings and sorrows, there will be in this life. As Paul says it to the Romans here, the Spirit has been given to us, and the Spirit pulls us back from sliding into fear by reminding us who and whose we are. When I know I am a beloved child of God, the scary things out there in the world no longer have to intimidate me. They are still there, and they may even still be scary--but I no longer have to give them power over me to make me afraid. And as Paul says it, part of how I have that courage renewed in me is simply in the act of calling on God like a child would for their parents. "When we cry, 'Abba! Father!' it is that very Spirit bearing witness," Paul says, using the very Aramaic words of Jesus himself to call on God as "Abba" in intimate, childlike terms.
And in that sense, we are much like Inigo. The act of reciting and rehearsing who and whose we are gives us clarity. It's just that, because of how our story goes, we aren't sent into the world for the revenge business--we are sent as children of the God who loves recklessly and vulnerably. But we do get focus on how to face a messy world, and courage to go out into the scary stuff without being dominated by our fears, because the Spirit reminds us of whose we are.
And because our identity as children of God is unchangeable, grounded in grace, and constantly brought to our attention as the Spirit leads us to call on God, "Abba! Father!" we don't have to worry about losing that sense of who we are. We cannot lose it. The worst we can do is to forget that it is true and fall back into that spirit of fear again.
Take Bayard Rustin as another case in point.
As the Rustin (the leader in the civil rights and nonviolence movements of the 1960s, alongside Dr. King) famously put it, "To be afraid is to behave as if the truth were not true." And that's just it--we are children of God, and that is an irrevocable gift of grace you cannot unearn. When we let fear dictate our actions and choices, it is like forgetting who we really are. But we have not been left to fend for ourselves, adrift in a sea of forgetfulness. The Spirit keeps reminding us who and whose we are, so that we will not drown in our fears and be compelled to lash out at everyone else around us like they are threats to be attacked or repelled.
The New Testament says that the Spirit gives us that same assurance of who we are, and with that assurance, we, too, have courage to face whatever slings and arrows, sufferings and sorrows, there will be in this life. As Paul says it to the Romans here, the Spirit has been given to us, and the Spirit pulls us back from sliding into fear by reminding us who and whose we are. When I know I am a beloved child of God, the scary things out there in the world no longer have to intimidate me. They are still there, and they may even still be scary--but I no longer have to give them power over me to make me afraid. And as Paul says it, part of how I have that courage renewed in me is simply in the act of calling on God like a child would for their parents. "When we cry, 'Abba! Father!' it is that very Spirit bearing witness," Paul says, using the very Aramaic words of Jesus himself to call on God as "Abba" in intimate, childlike terms.
And in that sense, we are much like Inigo. The act of reciting and rehearsing who and whose we are gives us clarity. It's just that, because of how our story goes, we aren't sent into the world for the revenge business--we are sent as children of the God who loves recklessly and vulnerably. But we do get focus on how to face a messy world, and courage to go out into the scary stuff without being dominated by our fears, because the Spirit reminds us of whose we are.
And because our identity as children of God is unchangeable, grounded in grace, and constantly brought to our attention as the Spirit leads us to call on God, "Abba! Father!" we don't have to worry about losing that sense of who we are. We cannot lose it. The worst we can do is to forget that it is true and fall back into that spirit of fear again.
Take Bayard Rustin as another case in point.
As the Rustin (the leader in the civil rights and nonviolence movements of the 1960s, alongside Dr. King) famously put it, "To be afraid is to behave as if the truth were not true." And that's just it--we are children of God, and that is an irrevocable gift of grace you cannot unearn. When we let fear dictate our actions and choices, it is like forgetting who we really are. But we have not been left to fend for ourselves, adrift in a sea of forgetfulness. The Spirit keeps reminding us who and whose we are, so that we will not drown in our fears and be compelled to lash out at everyone else around us like they are threats to be attacked or repelled.
That gives us the clarity and the courage to face the day. Because we know--and keep getting reminded by the Spirit--who we are, we can endure whatever hardships, face whatever sufferings, and engage whatever new and risky situations await us in the day.
So perhaps when this day brings us difficulties, or we are struggling with how to deal with all that's going on around us, we can, rather like Inigo, remind ourselves by saying out loud: "I am a child of God. I call out, 'Abba! Father!' I am prepared... to live."
And maybe as Bayard Rustin would tell us, today is a day to live in the truth... which means no longer being ruled by fear.
O Spirit of Life, remind us whose we are so that we can face the day before us with confidence and grace.
No comments:
Post a Comment