A Misty Movie Musing

A close friend of mine highly recommended the movie, “The Man Who Saved The World”. I didn’t know what to expect.

This was supposedly a documentary / reenactment of a Cold War incident from 1983, featuring the Russian man who actually stopped WWIII from happening… also included were appearances by Kevin Costner, Matt Damon, and Robert De Niro. What was this film? I was intrigued.

Without spoiling anything or providing an unsolicited review, I will say this: I was profoundly and unexpectedly impacted by the last ten minutes of the movie. Something inside of my soul sort of “clicked”.

Let me explain…

Yesterday evening, I took a stroll at dusk. The local park was deserted, and the sun had disappeared behind the hills. The humid air mixed with that sudden evening cooling to create a thick mist which reflected the purple sky of recent sunset.

The crickets were singing in rhythm, birds chirped their bedtime lullabies, and several bats appeared overhead… perhaps feeding on mosquitoes that had just fed on me.

I was in a pensive mood. I thought about my sweet son, Isaac, who passed away only eight months ago. He would have loved seeing the brilliant moon overhead, the orange and pink clouds in the distance, the mystical feel of the green meadow shrouded in fog.

Lightening bugs began to appear along the tree line. Remnants of an afternoon rain still clung to leaves, reflecting a spherical and surreal world in every perfect drop. I touched the branches and damp trunks of trees, feeling the soft moisture and coolness of the forest. How old were these oaks and maples and redbuds? 30, 50, 100 years old?

And those larger trees, towering above the rest, bearing wounds and scars of perhaps 150 or 200 years…. do they remember the days when soldiers occupied this exact spot during the Civil War? Do they remember sheltering families of farmers, of enslaved peoples, of Native Americans from earlier days?

How many lives were lived on this plot of earth? Prayers lifted, songs sung, tears shed. So many untold stories whispered among these ancient woodlands, echoed down through history unto this very evening. And to be whispered once more, long after I leave this park and heavy mist.

I thanked the trees for their company, praised the bats for their pest control, the frogs and crickets for their chorus, the moon for its caring steadfastness, and the Maker of all things for a sweet and tangible presence of peace. It was a lonely park, but I was not alone. I felt deeply a “part” of this grand and beautiful Creation. Isaac was here with me, as well, in my heart, in my spirit, and intrinsically “at one with the rest of Creation”. I knew he was a peace, and that was good.

I slowed my gait with each step, taking in the soft scent of flowers and honeysuckle gently wafting through the air, looking up into the darkening canopy of leaves, across the meadow hidden in its peaceful lilac fog. All was perfect in this place, and I was thankful to be here. I recited a few psalms, some poetry, prayed for my family and loved ones, even for Ukraine and Russia, for refugees at the border, for migrants from North Africa and Latin America, for wisdom and courage and surrender to somehow be of use for those in need.

I used to pray somewhat like this years ago, but it has been so difficult for so long… and perhaps I just grew tired of what began to feel like a charade of sorts. Even now, I wonder if prayer really “works” or if it does anything other than alter the attitude and outlook of the one who prays. Well if that is all it does, then I gladly receive that internal transformation… regardless of what theologians may believe or conjecture. It felt good and right and proper to pray tonight, and so I did.

After the evening light faded and I returned home, I continued to think about my experience at the park. My wife and I got ready for bed, finally turned off the lights after our full day of work and “all the stuff of life”, and we began to drift off to dreamland.

But I couldn’t sleep. I was still thinking about life, the nature of reality, plans for tomorrow, the topography of Ecuador, and at least a dozen other topics that flood the brain when it’s time to settle down.

So I went into the kitchen, grabbed a box of Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies and turned on the TV. Eventually, I found myself navigating to the aforementioned movie recommended by my friend.

By the end of the film and this interesting night, I knew several things deep in my soul:

1. Forgiveness and Reconciliation are paramount to human existence, and necessary at every level of human society. Full stop.

2. Our very natural human creativity and diversity of culture, language, art, music, literature, religion, philosophy, etc. is amazing and beautiful and multi-faceted… but often leads to deep divisions by economic class, political ideology, unhealthy tribalism and hyper-nationalism, dehumanizing “others” opposed to ourselves.

3. In the end, I am concerned that too many of us will have spent our lives on emphasizing division and contempt of “the other” rather than love toward our diverse family of fellow humans.

4. There is a better way to live.

I don’t know much, but I do know that I don’t want to spend the remainder of my time sowing division and hatred and bitterness toward others. Yes, I want to see a peaceful resolution in Ukraine and Russia, but I also want to see families find peace and wholeness on both sides of the Mexican / U.S. border.

I also want to see estranged family members embracing in forgiveness, issues of racism in society dealt with openly and honestly, economic disparities bridged, mental illness addressed, and school violence no longer ignored. The list goes on and on, and political policy suggestions are myriad.

However our tendency to place our own “tribes” (whether be it a political party or personality or nation-state or philosophy or religion) above an actual community in pain often blind us from working together to bring healing to those in desperate need. We can do better. We need to do better.

Because in the end, whether we like it or not, we will one day breathe our last and be reabsorbed into the fabric of Creation. And all of our toil and sweat and shouting and plodding and temporary moments of brilliance will be left behind to a world that must deal with our mess, for better or worse.

This world is what we make it. I want a world of more beautiful sunsets, loving neighbors, and reconciled peoples… those who find greater joy in sharing and caring for this planet than from excluding “others” from our respective tribes. I think it is possible to celebrate the beauty of diversity alongside the loving and caring of “others” — those who are very different from yourself.

That’s the message I got from the movie tonight, as well as a lifetime of other stuff that most of us learn along the way. Choose love. Choose forgiveness. Choose reconciliation and empathy and humility. And if you just can’t do that because you’re too hurt or bitter or in a funk, then pray for the grace to be more loving everyday. That is a prayer I believe will be answered, regardless of your religion or thoughts on reality.

We may not ever be in the position to save the world from nuclear destruction (like that brave Russian man in 1983), however we are in a position to re-make this world into a little bit of a better place in which to live… something that may prove to be a much more consequential role in history after all.

Okay — Time to go back to sleep now! Peace.