I've gone to a DVD night every second Thursday for roughly the past two and a half years now. It's run by the Galway City Baptist Church, and they're very gracious for doing so. Anyway, last night we watched 'The Kite Runner'. Needless to say, I hadn't read the book, so I went into this movie not knowing what to expect from it, save for subtitles.
(On the topic of subtitles, as I was telling someone yesterday, every time I'm about to watch a subtitled film I always groan and complain about the fact that I have to 'work' while watching a movie. Then when I watch the movie, reading the subtitles becomes so effortless, and really adds to the overall experience. I'll proceed to make a mental note of that fact, lest I approach the next subtitled film with similar dread. Of course, the very next film I watch that contains subtitles will be greeted with boos and disapproval, and me once again complaining of having to 'work' while watching a movie. Never mind the fact that I've enjoyed nearly every subtitled film I've seen. That all goes out the window. How quickly we forget, eh?
This same viscious cycle applies to the film 'Waterworld' also. The first time I watched Waterworld I thought it was rubbish, which it was - just like virtually every film critic has ever said. However, every time Waterworld appears on the small screen (usually Thursday nights at 9.30pm on RTE 2), I say to myself, 'You know, maybe it's not as bad as I think'. And so I'll watch it in the vain hope that it may well be a decent flick. It's not, and I resolve straight after to never watch it again on the grounds that it really is as horrible as every one says. Of course next time RTE 2 decide to pull it out of the fire, Declan decides to give it another chance. Foolish Declan.)
OK all of that aside, I really enjoyed 'The Kite Runner' (as a warning, I don't want any of you pretentious purists telling me that the book is better than the film). There were quite a lot of issues to think through afterwards, which is always a good sign. And moreover, there were numerous religious themes and parallels to be drawn from the story, which I always appreciate in films (as long as they're handled with subtlety, just as Mel Gibson did with his acute film 'The Passion of the Christ' [!?]).
One of the more impactful scenes in the film is quite an horrific one. To give it some context (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT FOR THE REMAINING PARAGRAPHS), we're shown the story of two friends - one a servant to the others father. The servant (Hassan) is the braver of the two. He's only a boy, but he shows great moral courage, and displays all the characteristics of a true friend. The other boy is weak in comparison, and this weakness is no more evident than when his best friend is cornered by a group of older teens. These teens want to take the kite that Hassan 'ran' (I want explain what that means). Hassan refuses, stating that this is the kite which he ran for Amir, and he's not going to just hand it over.
All the while, Amir is watching this unfold from a far. He sees his best friend's display of loyalty and courage, but this moves him not an inch. He doesn't intervene, he doesn't cry for help. He just watches, paralyzed with fear and lacking any conviction. Hassan is beaten to the ground - kicked, punched, and eventually raped. Amir can't just stand by and idly watch any longer, which leads him into action - his action being to run the other way. He sits on a step and waits for his friend to emerge, hobbling quietly from the alley, blood dripping to the ground.
Amir plays dumb and greets his friend as if nothing happend. Naturally enough, Hassan is keen to do likewise.
The friendship between these two boys begins to deteriorate, all because of shame. Not because of shame on Hassan's part, but because of the shame that Amir feels for all that he didn't do. Amir can barely look his friend in the eye. Every time he sees Hassan he is reminded of his moral cowardess, his moral failings. He's too ashamed and too proud to admit of his wrong doing, so he sees no other choice but to get Hassan out of his life, for he can't bare to have him in it any longer.
He does this by falsely accusing Hassan of stealing, thus forcing Hassan and his family out of the picture. This is but temporary relief of course.
Having moved to America (the story leaps forward a number of years), Amir has graduated from college, is a successful author, and has married his childhood sweetheart (and by 'his childhood sweetheart' I mean 'a girl he knew for about 5 minutes'). However, he is beckoned back to Afghanistan by a friend of his fathers. He is given a chance for redemption.
Hassan has died, but his son has been taken prisoner by a Taliban official, Assef. Not too surprisingly, this offical is the same youth who violated Hassan's innonce all those years ago. To cut a long story short, Amir goes to Assef's house, and demands that Hassan's son leave with him. Assef proceeds to beat Amir to the ground, as he did Hassan that day. However, the boy (Hassan's son) slings a brass ball into Assef's face, and he and Amir escape. More importantly, Amir is finally redeemed.
Such a story might not seem true of you or me, but it is. We may not think we have blood on our hands like Amir did, but we do. History and the Bible tell us that every single person on this earth has the blood of a man on their hands; has the death of a man on their conscience. We are all guilty, just as Amir was. And just like Amir, we all know we're guilty. Romans 1 speaks of this knowledge. The question is, what do we do with this guilt?
There are really only two options. We can own up to our guilt, confess our wrong doing, and seek forgiveness and restoration. Or, like Amir, we can try to suppress our guilt and our shame. We can try and remove the Hassan from our lives, so that we don't have to look him in the eye and feel that brokenness over and over again.
However, as it was with Amir, this is but a temporary solution. For although we can change our environment, our very hearts carry in them the knowledge of right and wrong, and we know that we have wronged.
I was reading in a book the other day that when we see Jesus for who He really is, we can only either turn away or shamelessly adore him. The prostitute in Simon's house could have either turned away in sheer guilt and shame in Jesus' presense, or else bowed down at his feet and worshipped Him. She chose the latter, and her sins, though they were many, were immediately forgiven.
Unlike Amir, we dont have to make amends for our wrong doing by doing something right to balance the books. Jesus' death on the cross was enough to pay for all the sins of the world. So what do we do? Well as Paul says in his letter to the Galatians,
"...the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."
To rest on that faith and live out of that faith is to be restored. To turn away from Jesus, to suppress the truth, to try and banish Him from your life, is to live in shame. It is to live with blood still on your hands. We have all been guilty of this from the beginning of our lives, and even I as a Christian find myself negoatiating the truth in order to appease my sin. It can't be done however. I can't hide, I can't cover up, I can't make excuses. All I can do -- all anyone can do -- is go to the foot of the cross, where love and sorrow meet, and where the wrath of God is satisfied, bringing forgiveness and restoration to whosoever believes.
Religious thoughts aside, this is a pretty good movie, so check it out if you can.
(On the topic of subtitles, as I was telling someone yesterday, every time I'm about to watch a subtitled film I always groan and complain about the fact that I have to 'work' while watching a movie. Then when I watch the movie, reading the subtitles becomes so effortless, and really adds to the overall experience. I'll proceed to make a mental note of that fact, lest I approach the next subtitled film with similar dread. Of course, the very next film I watch that contains subtitles will be greeted with boos and disapproval, and me once again complaining of having to 'work' while watching a movie. Never mind the fact that I've enjoyed nearly every subtitled film I've seen. That all goes out the window. How quickly we forget, eh?
This same viscious cycle applies to the film 'Waterworld' also. The first time I watched Waterworld I thought it was rubbish, which it was - just like virtually every film critic has ever said. However, every time Waterworld appears on the small screen (usually Thursday nights at 9.30pm on RTE 2), I say to myself, 'You know, maybe it's not as bad as I think'. And so I'll watch it in the vain hope that it may well be a decent flick. It's not, and I resolve straight after to never watch it again on the grounds that it really is as horrible as every one says. Of course next time RTE 2 decide to pull it out of the fire, Declan decides to give it another chance. Foolish Declan.)
OK all of that aside, I really enjoyed 'The Kite Runner' (as a warning, I don't want any of you pretentious purists telling me that the book is better than the film). There were quite a lot of issues to think through afterwards, which is always a good sign. And moreover, there were numerous religious themes and parallels to be drawn from the story, which I always appreciate in films (as long as they're handled with subtlety, just as Mel Gibson did with his acute film 'The Passion of the Christ' [!?]).
One of the more impactful scenes in the film is quite an horrific one. To give it some context (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT FOR THE REMAINING PARAGRAPHS), we're shown the story of two friends - one a servant to the others father. The servant (Hassan) is the braver of the two. He's only a boy, but he shows great moral courage, and displays all the characteristics of a true friend. The other boy is weak in comparison, and this weakness is no more evident than when his best friend is cornered by a group of older teens. These teens want to take the kite that Hassan 'ran' (I want explain what that means). Hassan refuses, stating that this is the kite which he ran for Amir, and he's not going to just hand it over.
All the while, Amir is watching this unfold from a far. He sees his best friend's display of loyalty and courage, but this moves him not an inch. He doesn't intervene, he doesn't cry for help. He just watches, paralyzed with fear and lacking any conviction. Hassan is beaten to the ground - kicked, punched, and eventually raped. Amir can't just stand by and idly watch any longer, which leads him into action - his action being to run the other way. He sits on a step and waits for his friend to emerge, hobbling quietly from the alley, blood dripping to the ground.
Amir plays dumb and greets his friend as if nothing happend. Naturally enough, Hassan is keen to do likewise.
The friendship between these two boys begins to deteriorate, all because of shame. Not because of shame on Hassan's part, but because of the shame that Amir feels for all that he didn't do. Amir can barely look his friend in the eye. Every time he sees Hassan he is reminded of his moral cowardess, his moral failings. He's too ashamed and too proud to admit of his wrong doing, so he sees no other choice but to get Hassan out of his life, for he can't bare to have him in it any longer.
He does this by falsely accusing Hassan of stealing, thus forcing Hassan and his family out of the picture. This is but temporary relief of course.
Having moved to America (the story leaps forward a number of years), Amir has graduated from college, is a successful author, and has married his childhood sweetheart (and by 'his childhood sweetheart' I mean 'a girl he knew for about 5 minutes'). However, he is beckoned back to Afghanistan by a friend of his fathers. He is given a chance for redemption.
Hassan has died, but his son has been taken prisoner by a Taliban official, Assef. Not too surprisingly, this offical is the same youth who violated Hassan's innonce all those years ago. To cut a long story short, Amir goes to Assef's house, and demands that Hassan's son leave with him. Assef proceeds to beat Amir to the ground, as he did Hassan that day. However, the boy (Hassan's son) slings a brass ball into Assef's face, and he and Amir escape. More importantly, Amir is finally redeemed.
Such a story might not seem true of you or me, but it is. We may not think we have blood on our hands like Amir did, but we do. History and the Bible tell us that every single person on this earth has the blood of a man on their hands; has the death of a man on their conscience. We are all guilty, just as Amir was. And just like Amir, we all know we're guilty. Romans 1 speaks of this knowledge. The question is, what do we do with this guilt?
There are really only two options. We can own up to our guilt, confess our wrong doing, and seek forgiveness and restoration. Or, like Amir, we can try to suppress our guilt and our shame. We can try and remove the Hassan from our lives, so that we don't have to look him in the eye and feel that brokenness over and over again.
However, as it was with Amir, this is but a temporary solution. For although we can change our environment, our very hearts carry in them the knowledge of right and wrong, and we know that we have wronged.
I was reading in a book the other day that when we see Jesus for who He really is, we can only either turn away or shamelessly adore him. The prostitute in Simon's house could have either turned away in sheer guilt and shame in Jesus' presense, or else bowed down at his feet and worshipped Him. She chose the latter, and her sins, though they were many, were immediately forgiven.
Unlike Amir, we dont have to make amends for our wrong doing by doing something right to balance the books. Jesus' death on the cross was enough to pay for all the sins of the world. So what do we do? Well as Paul says in his letter to the Galatians,
"...the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."
To rest on that faith and live out of that faith is to be restored. To turn away from Jesus, to suppress the truth, to try and banish Him from your life, is to live in shame. It is to live with blood still on your hands. We have all been guilty of this from the beginning of our lives, and even I as a Christian find myself negoatiating the truth in order to appease my sin. It can't be done however. I can't hide, I can't cover up, I can't make excuses. All I can do -- all anyone can do -- is go to the foot of the cross, where love and sorrow meet, and where the wrath of God is satisfied, bringing forgiveness and restoration to whosoever believes.
Religious thoughts aside, this is a pretty good movie, so check it out if you can.
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