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Silver Linings Playbook and the Voluntary Exile


Image from imdb.com

"Can you forgive?

Those were just some of the words that remained in my head when I left the showing of Silver Linings Playbook. I had seen the movie before, and when our Adult Faith Formation Coordinator mentioned that it would be a part of our "Encountering God Speaker and Activity Series" this summer, I wasn't quite sure if it fit under the theme of the night, "The Theology of Imperfection."

But under the guidance of Fr. Dan who used the "cinema divina" technique popular with the Daughters of St. Paul, I started to see the film differently. He urged us to look for themes of imperfection and brokenness, and with a movie like Silver Linings Playbook, there were plenty of examples.

On my way home, the theme of brokenness kept on manifesting itself in the concept of voluntary exile - purposely making yourself an outcast or denying yourself goodness that everyone seems to think we are all entitled to.

Throughout the movie, the main character, Pat, struggles with his wife's infidelities which pushed him to a mental breakdown. After his release from a mental institution, he refuses to let go of the relationship although it's clear that he is clinging to something that is dead. Jennifer Lawrence's character, Tiffany, after a confrontation with Pat during a run, poses this question to him: Can you forgive? She references how although she, too, has a murky past, she accepts herself. She likes herself just fine the way she is, scars and bruises and all. But can Pat say the same? She challenges him, and the viewer is left to believe that he cannot. This is sign of brokenness #1: If you can't forgive yourself, can you forgive anyone? By failing to forgive himself, Pat denies himself the possibility of moving on to something better than his failed marriage.

It is clear that Pat prefers clinging to false hope rather than entering into necessary suffering. The title of the movie itself references Pat's mantra of always finding the silver lining. Pat reaches for that silver lining to the point of detaching himself from reality. Of course, as the viewer, we have the advantage of seeing the story from all angles. We want to scream at Pat that his wife isn't coming back to him, so we get frustrated every time he voices his hopeful whims of winning her back. We want to scream that if only he goes through the hard work of letting her go, he can move on to something better. He avoids the pain of facing reality. It reminded me of a quote from Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet:

“Why should you want to exclude from your life all unsettling, all pain, all depression of spirit, when you don’t know what work it is these states are performing within you? Why do you want to persecute yourself with the question of where it all comes from and where it is leading? You well know you are in a period of transition and want nothing more than to be transformed. If there is something ailing in the way you go about things, then remember that sickness is the means by which an organism rids itself of something foreign to it. All one has to do is help it to be ill, to have its whole illness and let it break out, for that is how it mends itself.”

In Rilke's words, it's suffering is necessary to alleviate the suffering. But why would anyone want to keep that suffering around when it's causing pain? Isn't it better to cling to some illusion of goodness that brings me comfort? In a word? No.

This is where I started to see the Theology of Silver Linings Playbook. It's not the suffering that needs to be exiled. It's ego. Throughout the whole movie, Pat is so obsessed with getting his wife back that he fails to see Tiffany right there, wanting to help him, wanting to be with him. No matter how delusional, his own solutions are the ones he prefers. That's so me.

How many times have I subtly made the claim, through my actions or through my words that I don't need a Savior? In the middle of my messiness, I need God who is bigger than me and who can walk with me in my suffering and if it is His will, take it away. But the thing is, he won't step in unless I let him. I have to allow it. I have to surrender my own will and desires because in the grand scheme of things, unless they are conformed to his will, they are delusional. I have to voluntarily exile my own ego. But alas, I am imperfect. I make mistakes. I, like Pat, cling to my own solutions to life's problems, even if they are unrealistic. However, in surrendering my will to God's, I see that I do something completely countercultural. In a world that touts the ideals of self-reliance and independence, I become a bit of a weirdo. I become the voluntary exile from what this world deems to be ordinary. But that makes sense because when you encounter God, extraordinary things happen.

 

Interested in Encountering God through Beauty, Goodness and Trust this summer? Check out the rest of the schedule! All adults are welcome.

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