Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Lars and the Real Girl

The search for true love begins outside the box.

I love this movie! It's my new favorite. I don't want to spoil anything, so I won't discuss the plot, only what this film caused me to think about and feel.

Life is only possible with mercy, and when we're called upon to be merciful, it's never in a way we could have anticipated or prepared for. How many of my own quirks, foibles, and delusions other people "play along with" and never feel the need to "correct" or "remedy"? How much patience is needed to accommodate my difficult habits? And to what extent am I willing to break out of my own preconceptions about how to respond to others' "abnormal" behavior? What does mercy look like in real life, in real time?
In a structurally dependent being, as is the human person, freedom always begins specifically as acceptance. The more one knows how to accept, the more active one becomes.
Christ would draw the comparison between the vine and the branches -- the only life that feeds many lives. We can apply this comparison to every true community: the life that keeps everyone together is the power of my freedom that opens itself and gives itself to others.
The greatness of human freedom is such that it will not rest if not in a community of all, a "catholic" community.
From Luigi Giussani, The Journey to Truth is an Experience

1 comment:

Marie said...

Any movie with a character bearing a Scandinavian name sounds intriguing to me. I'm so curious that I'm ready to Google it... You'd better let me see it soon!

Dumbstruck by the Mystery

...our temptation is always to impose our prejudices or our measure on reality -- except when we are faced with a fact that leaves us dumbstruck, and instead of dominating the fact ourselves, we are dominated, overcome by it. If there were no moments of this kind, the Mystery could do anything, but in the end, we would reduce everything to the usual explanation. But not even a Nobel Prize winner can stop himself from being dumbstruck before an absolutely gratuitous gesture. If there were not these moments, we would find answers, explanations, and interpretations to avoid being struck by anything. It is good that some things happen that we cannot dominate, then we have to take them seriously, and this is the great question of philosophy. If the conditions for the possibility of knowledge (see Kant) impose themselves on reality or if there is something that is so powerfully disproportionate that it does not let itself be "grasped" by the conditions of possibility, then the horizon opens. If this were not the case, then we could dominate everything and be in peace, or at least without drama. Instead, not even the intelligence of a Nobel Prize winner could prevent him from coming face-to-face with a fact that made him dumbstruck -- instead of dominating, it was he who was dominated. Here begins the drama, because I am called to answer. It is the drama that unfolds between us and the Mystery, through certain facts, certain moments, in which the Mystery imposes itself with this evidence. These are facts that we cannot put in our pocket, which we cannot reduce to antecedent factors.
-- Julian Carron in "Friends, that is, Witnesses."