Until last night, the most recent movie I had seen in a theater was the “new” Star Trek movie, released last spring. Not a favorite. Last night my aunt and I decided to see Eat, Pray, Love. The first time I’ve ever seen a movie on opening night. She was worried that there might be line. I wasn’t. This is Lowell after all. We joined perhaps twenty others. The rest of town was at the fair, learning Line Dancing by Lia.
When I suggested seeing the movie (yes, it was my idea), I had several motivations. I wanted to spend some time with my aunt, doing something she would enjoy. She had, after all, taken a week of her life to spend time with us, and in particular, my children. Although she goes back to teaching in less than two weeks, she is spending the week here, teaching art and loving my kids. I was also curious about this movie, the first I’ve seen to generate merchandising that doesn’t come in a happy meal. What is the attraction to this, that you would want to “live the Eat, Pray, Love life” as an article in the Press put it last week. Finally, I hoped it would give us something to talk about on a spiritual level. I knew enough about the movie to know that I wouldn’t agree with much of it.
The book protrays a woman in search of meaning, leaving her husband and job to spend a year in Italy, India, and Bali. First of all, who wouldn’t want to shuck responsibility and spend a year gadding about these exotic locations? Unfortunately, Liz doesn’t seem that much more comfortable in her skin at the end of movie than she was at the beginning. Since it is memoir, and she’s still alive, I suppose that is natural. I mean, none of us will have closure until we die. But I fail to see a true change in the character, despite what she tells her Balinese medicine man at the end.
Interesting to me are some of the conclusions she tries to reach. Like in the Augustorium (sp) in Rome, where she contemplates the place of brokenness before transformation. As Christians we must die before we live. And in India, she struggles with emptying her mind, while Christ calls us to bring every thought to captivity, to obedience to Him. He tells us to fill our minds with Him, not empty it in order to let the universe in. Finally, in Bali, she tries to love again, but is held back by a fear that she will lose the peace she has found, the balance. Her medicine man tells her that she sometimes has to lose balance in order to love. Christ calls us to love the Lord our God with all our heart, mind and strength and love our neighbors as ourselves. Anytime we love, we open ourselves up to all kinds of things that we should fear—death, loss, hurt, and our own selfishness. But the difference is—I am relentless pursued by God who has conquered death, who has experienced loss, and who has been hurt by those He loves. And so I can rest in His grace, convinced that He will carry me through the times those I love don’t show it, through the times I grieve the loss of those I love, and through the times when I fail to love as I should offering forgiveness and his power to do better.
I do eat, enjoying the flavors of life that God has lavishly given me. And I pray, not as continually as I should, but more and more. And I love—imperfectly on my own, but desiring every day to be the vessel that overflows with Christ’s unconditional, unending love for others.
