I recently watched a movie that proved to be very dissimilar to the movies that typically find their way into my viewing. I tend to lean toward the genre of drama–providing it is void of excessive blood and violence and lacking in the depiction of brutal physical assaults. Recently, however, I have willingly sought the expansion of my movie viewing selection with the thought that in doing so, I might glean a bit of insight from the world around me, and dig deeper into my true perception of the reality in which I live.

I know I am teetering out onto a delicate line, and I don’t necessarily endorse all movies-or the one about which I am writing for that matter–as acceptable pieces of art through which to gain insight on culture or humanity or the nature of God. I do, however, know that in many ways I have held up a hand of fear when it comes to taking a good look at the ugly truth of reality, naively hoping that in doing so, I could make complete sense of the world and put pain in a logical little box.

I find myself constantly attempting to attach a reason to the occurrences I read about or witness in the lives of others. Admittedly, this often comes out as judgmental: attributing events to personal choices in a direct cause and effect scenario. Sadly, the only result of attaching a “logical” reason to the bad things that happen on this fallen planet is a false sense of safety, and a self-righteous lack of compassion for those most affected by its fallen-ness.

Its ugly–this mindset I have adopted over the years–yet I have to be honest if I’m going to look at the core issues. This mindset has allowed me to explain away the possibility of my own vulnerability; the possibility that I am not exempt from becoming the prey for painful circumstances. I have put myself on a different plane than the rest of the world, unwilling to completely look pain and suffering in the face. I have held out for the hope that I will never have to tread a path whose scenery doesn’t meet my expectations.

The movie I watched the other night was Mr. Brooks. It depicted a terrifying look into the possible motivations of a serial killer, and displayed in grotesque detail the killer’s psychological addiction to brutally murdering random people. The murder victims were not related either in situation or circumstance or biology. They were simply targets because they were alive, and the ability to kill them gave the murderer a sense of power and (totally sick) satisfaction.

I spent the next couple days grappling with the visual, emotional and psychological responses that the movie evoked in me and was struck with the heaviness of sin. Sin is not to be messed with; it is real and its ultimate aim destroys all life. Although I would label much of the violence in Mr. Brooks as gratuitous, I was even more sickened by how consumed the murderer became with his desire to violently destroy the life of a fellow human being; how incredibly dark his blatant disregard for the sanctity of human life. I was repulsed, but then got to thinking about the nature of sin. It is easy to point fingers at the character whose desires lead to the horrific, physical demise of another, but what of my own sin? What of the sins of my tongue that wound rather than build; that leave emotions ripped and bleeding in their aftermath? Does Jesus see such a grandiose difference between the physical and the emotional assaults we administer to one another-both with selfish, deadly blows? I’m thinking that he doesn’t. Sobering thought.

The other issue this movie brought up for me was the realization that sin has a wide-spread and impartial effect on all of us as a collective community of human beings. We are in this together more than we like to realize. Sometimes we see a direct result of our sin in our circumstances, but often, the things that really enrage us and tempt us to doubt the existence of a good God come as a result of sin simply existing in the world. We are part of the human race that chose to rebel against the one and only Holy God and therefore, we experience the effects of the presence of sin in our now fallen world.

As I mentioned before, I have always found a pseudo comfort in coming up with “reasons” for the evil that pervades our planet, but as Mr. Brooks so poignantly displayed, there are those who do not need a reason or a relationship to kill or hurt or humiliate, but rather a subject. That arbitrarily selected person could just as easily be me, or someone I love as it could be anyone. Sin is not so predictably selective. The point: I AM NOT IN CONTROL. (yikes!) Therefore, to whom am I going to turn when fear grips the sensitive and delicate bindings of my inner being?

I hope always, by the grace of God to be able to echo Edward Mote, a Baptist pastor from the 1800’s: “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus blood and righteousness.”

Melana Bontrager