Some years ago I wrote about how the movies saved my Dad (www.mobilearchdiocese.org/catholicweek). With a mother who was paranoid schizophrenic and a father who committed suicide when my father was 3-years old, my Dad’s childhood offered little sunshine. If he ended up an alcoholic, depressed or abusive, no one could blame him.
Instead though, he is a shockingly good man, filled with optimism, joy and hope. Over the years, my sisters and I realized that the virtues and goodness my father found in the great movies of his formative years were the primary source of his moral and spiritual education.
One of his favorite movies was "A Raisin in the Sun". The story chronicles a down and out black family trapped in a Chicago ghetto and ironically begins with a bit of good fortune. The father of the family has died and left them a small insurance death benefi t which will allow them to move into a modest home in the suburbs.
The money is split between the mother, the daughter in her early 20’s, Beneatha, and her married older brother, Walter. The three live together in the slum apartment along with Walter’s wife and son.
Desperate to prove himself as a man and do something with his life, Walter partners with a friend who has a scheme to triple their money. Walter convinces his mother and sister to give him their shares of the insurance but predictably, the friend skips town and leaves the family high and dry.
Beneatha turns on Walter with rage and contempt, saying "that is not a man. That is a toothless rat." Her mother responds, "I thought I taught you to love him."
Beneatha: "Love him? There is nothing left to love."
Mama: "There is always something left to love. And if you ain’t learned that, you ain’t learned nothing. Have you cried for that boy today? I don’t mean for yourself or for the family ‘cause we lost the money. I mean for him: what he been through and what it done to him. Child, when do you think is the time to love somebody the most? When they done good and made things easy for everybody? Well then, you ain’t through learning-because that ain’t the time at all. It’s when he’s at his lowest and can’t believe hisself ‘cause the world done whipped him so!"
My youngest sister ran ripshod over my parents when she was a teenager. To say she was a tough adolescent would grossly understate the reality. She was a hellion. At 15-years old, two years before she received her license, she would simply take the car and go wherever she wanted, disregarding my parents.
In her first year at the University of Massachusetts, she brought home a 1.4 GPA. But, she had a proposition for my parents. She wanted to take a modeling class in Manhattan on Saturdays. Her plan was to commute by bus every weekend, doing her homework coming and going. The class cost $3,000.
My mother, offended by the nerve of this disrespectful and ungrateful child, lit into her. "How dare you? After the way you have treated us these past few years, you have no right to expect anything like this. We are already bending over backwards to send you to college where you are wasting your time and our money, failing with a 1.4. You have some nerve young lady! You haven’t shown us anything...."
Just then, my Dad grabbed my Mom and took her into the other room. He asked her: "Honey, when do you think is the time to love somebody the most? When they done something good? This is the moment. She needs us now, right now."
After regaining their composure, my parents returned to my sister and agreed to help her pursue modeling in New York City on the weekends.
My sister modeled for two years. She never earned less than a 3.8 GPA the rest of her college career. She is now a successful estate lawyer in Boston, happily married with two sons.
My father was right. That was the moment. And he quoted a movie. It was all he knew. It was how God had formed him.
We are entering Holy Week, a time saturated with the deepest truths of God’s devotion to us. The message is as simple as it is impossible to believe. We are loved at our worst, cherished even in our deepest sinfulness. Forgiven when we haven’t even realized how broken we are.
Can we open our hearts this week to this unfathomable love? Can we soak it in and bring some of it to those around us, especially those most in need of some undeserved mercy and goodness? Wouldn’t that make for a good movie and a great Easter?
 | About David O’Brien David O’Brien is the Associate Director of Religious Education for Lay Ministry for the Archdiocese of Mobile. His column, Everyday Faith, appears regularly in the archdiocesan newspaper, the Catholic Week. Email David at dobrien@mobilearchdiocese.org. |
No comments:
Post a Comment