There is a movie that I have always been terrified to watch. It's not a slasher movie. It doesn't have any gore or demons. Possession doesn't make an appearance, neither does ghosts or the boogie man. It would actually be classified as a "dark comedy" at worst, but the sight of the movie poster's appearance on Netflix put more nerve-wracking energy coursing through my veins than Silence of the Lambs or Hannibal. Combined.
The movie is called Saved!, starring long-time chick-flick extraordinaire Mandy Moore alongside indie's Jenna Malone. And just the mention of this movie has had me running and hiding behind my Bible since I was in high school.
Why would this movie freak me out so much? What about it is so uncomfortable if it's just a comedy about Christian high school students? I remember when they showed a small clip of Mandy Moore throwing her Bible at Jenna Malone at my church camp one summer (using it as an example of obviously how not to be a witness to your pregnant friend), the speaker said he couldn't go on after that scene and I believed him. As a Christian, I know that the farce showed in that movie isn't what true Christianity is about. I know that it's ridiculous and it scared me because it felt sacrilegious and well...mean. Like my faith would become discredited if I watched Hollywood's take on my faith. That Jesus couldn't handle me watching a movie that made fun of his religion. Or worse, if Jesus found out I agreed with them.
I am now twenty-five and realizing that the happy-go lucky of "Jesus Saves!" is like candy for children after a doctor's office visit. I've realized that the somber "He is with you always" hurts like a burning candle that you must keep ever so close to keep the night from washing out the light. That the truth of the gospel fits in your hand and is spread in hugs more than in to-do lists. The truth of the gospel is loving the unlovable - and recognizing the unlovable exists rather than hiding under a rock when it appears.
On my off day, alone with just my cats, I decided to take Netflix's advice (since it loves to suggest movies to me) and watch Saved!. Truly, if I wasn't a Christian already, I wouldn't want anything to do with Christianity after watching this movie. The Jesus culture is over-the-top and hurtful, but unfortunately, so true sometimes. Do I think every high school girl that professes Christ acts like that? No, thank God. But I thought back to the whole scandal with Chic-Fil-A that happened a few months ago. Christians posting pictures of their sandwiches, supporting a man and a business. I thought about everything that we label as "Christian," which ultimately means it's good for us. I think about the language of the film and how Christians have their own language that isn't even Biblical. I think about bumper stickers and political candidates and rhetoric and dressing up on Sundays and SUVs. I think about gossip and lies like "Everything Happens for a Reason."
The movie made me uncomfortable, but I finished it. And I didn't lose my faith. It points out the often displayed farce of Christian culture, but thankfully, I realized it doesn't nullify the Creator or the Savior. For me, it shakes the ashes from a stale faith that is outward to remembering a vibrant Earth with vibrant Humans stuck in the middle between dark and light. People make mistakes. People struggle deeply. And I think of one of the last lines where Mandy Moore lays defeated on the concrete parking lot. She looks up at her brother and asks, "Do you think Jesus still loves me?"
In high school, Christianity made the world look black and white, but with age, the grey bleeds out. It bleeds into our lives through death, through confession, through failed expectations, through seeing our shiny, branded Christianity being shot down stone-cold in front of our despairing faces. But in that moment, the God of the Universe can appear. The hands that made constellations can rise up and flesh and bone can be seen on our Savior's hands.
I believe, now more than ever, that we catch glimmers of God's majesty and truth through his Creation. Through the dirt and beauty of it. We don't get it with bumper stickers or covering our children's ears from cuss-words. Mine will probably hear too many from my own mouth. But as long as they see Jesus in the constellations and live his life through making friends with the unlovables at their school one day, I can believe in faith that isn't branded, but authentic and paid for. I can see the disgusting dirt underneath my finger nails and my loved ones and still say, "We're engraved on His hands." Seeing the ugly in our world (and in our faith) is scary because we have been conditioned to run away from those things, covering our ears and screaming to block out the bad. It then usually hits us like a bus and we're left barely breathing. "Do you think Jesus still loves me?"
Yes. He does. Now, love others, too.
Wonderful.
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