12 Witnesses

With deference to the prolific memorable dialog from Doc Holiday in Tombstone, I have a new movie quote from a movie not widely viewed, but which I have come to enjoy.

The movie is “Stranger Than Fiction” and it follows IRS agent Harold Crick as he begins to hear the narration of his life by author Karen Eiffel, though she is unknown to him at the time. This isn’t a review - I may do that some other time - but just to set up this long quote by the author at the end of the movie.  It turns out the author is writing a novel and has writer’s block.  She’s been writing this book for ten years.  It so happens that the narrative of her story is the narrative of Harold’s life.

That narrative revolves around Harold’s drab existence that blossoms into love: for life, for his only friend and for Miss Pascal - a lady, very different from himself, whom he is auditing - as Eiffel struggles to end her book. And the story is about Harold’s watch, which is ignored by Harold but is anthropomorphic and becomes its own character. The hitch is that the book she is writing, the narrative of Harold Crick’s existence, is fictional in her mind, but is actually the very real narrative of Harold’s life.  And thoughts.  And feelings.  And she kills people.  And Harold, struggling with the already disconcerting experience of hearing his life narrated in his head then hears the line, “Little did he know that this seemingly innocuous act would lead to his immanent death.”

At this point, he gets quite concerned.

As I mentioned, Eiffel has been in a ten year writer’s block, but her previous books all end with the death of the central character, hence, she is struggling to find a way to kill Harold. Harold begins a frantic search to find her so that he can stop her from killing him and their worlds collide, creating a moral crises. Apparently the book is no longer just a work of fiction as it seems to govern Harold’s existence.

It is a well written movie, which is why I have decided that I like it, and filled with stars like, Will Ferrell (Harold), Maggie Gyllenhaal (Ana Pascal), Dustin Hoffman (Prof. Hilbert), Emma Thompson (Karen Eiffel) and Queen Latifah (Penny Escher). And there are more. The two guys from those Sonic commercials are IRS agents. Very well cast and funny for those who enjoy dry wit.

Anyway, the movie deals with the issue of free will and destiny, albeit not from a theological perspective. As such, some parts fascinate me as to the imprint of God’s presence on the world. Here is the final quote from Karen Eiffel after she relents from killing Harold who, instead of dying, is critically injured saving the life of a child. I guess I wrote a review after all. It’s a long quote that makes even more sense in the movie, but I think you might enjoy it.

As Harold took a bite of Bavarian Sugar Cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be “ok.”

Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian Sugar Cookies.

And fortunately, when there aren’t any cookies we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin.

Or a kind and loving gesture.

Or a subtle encouragement.

Or a loving embrace.

Or an offer of comfort.

Not to mention…

Hospital gurneys.

And nose plugs.

And uneaten danish.

And soft spoken secrets.

And Fender Stratocasters.

And, maybe, the occasional piece of fiction.

And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days are, in fact, here for a much larger and nobler cause.

They are here to save our lives.

I know the idea seems strange. But I also know that it just so happens to be true.

And so it was a wristwatch saved Harold Crick.

Romans 8:28 - And we know that in all things God works to the good of them who love Him,who have been called according to His purpose.

It is one of the hardest things to explain. Especially to grieving families. Can you assure them their child is in Heaven. I have always attempted to do so, though I often admitted that my Scriptural validation for my belief was more or less founded in the goodness of God and His mercy.

The alternative is the cobbled together and poorly thought out, completely un-Scriptural “doctrines” such as the “age of accountability.”

Recently, Drs. Danny Akin and Al Mohler, Seminary Presidents of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary and Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, respectively, have produced a series of concise arguments from Scripture to lend a sense of affirmation to the belief that infants that die go to Heaven.

Between The Times|Why We Believe Children Who Die Go to Heaven

While some of the arguments edge quite close to the “age of accountability” thought process, though not crossing the line, some are better. Such as David’s sense of confidence in seeing his lost infant son again, and the vast multitudes of saints in Heaven that appear to possibly outnumber those that have lived to adulthood in service to the Lord.

If you’ve ever struggled with the loss of a child, this article should bring some sense of comfort to you.

Pardon the interruption of the Better Blogging series, but I need some discussion here.

My wife got into a spiritual conversation with some co-workers and one asked this question: “Why didn’t Jesus write the New Testament?” Her co-worker said that it would have been easier for him to trust the Bible’s accuracy and weight if he knew that Christ had written the New Testament, rather than having it left to people to remember what He said and record it.

Bonnie’s response, off the top of her head, was that the people didn’t understand Jesus and His mission until after the resurrection, which gave validity to the claim of Godhood. Before that, His writings might not have had the weight that even the Apostle’s writings had after the the resurrection.

I thought that was not bad.

Another co-worker speculated that He might not have been able to write, as the son of a carpenter.

I told Bonnie when she related the story to me that I thought that the Bible would lead us to believe that He was educated, unlike the delineation for Peter and John in Acts 4.

My simple answer is that we don’t know “why” God does anything, but that answer doesn’t always satisfy the curiosity of those seeking. In fact, we can never fully satisfy a seeker, but the Holy Spirit must convict and draw them to the conclusion.

Still, I think this is a great discussion. So how would you answer this question from an earnest seeker of truth?