Obviously, when we share our lives, stories, hardships and joys with other people it often invokes experiencing both good and bad emotions . . . love and hate, fear and contentment, joy and sorrow. So, how should we deal with emotions when seeking to love God and others well?
In other people’s suffering it can be easy to bank on the sovereignty of God. As a mother who has suffered through miscarriages, the idea that God would think it better that my child not survive in my womb can bring a wave of shock to my spiritual wellbeing. The problem with using a singular attribute of God to bring comfort to hurting people is that it depicts a small version of a god. Comfort from a small and unsatisfying god is unhelpful and doesn't last.
Sometimes the reality of the present, circumstances in my life or other's lives, really anything…can throw me into a funk. The truth is funks are inevitably going to happen. I can’t avoid them. They happen and there is no time limit to them. At the root of each funk I am always faced with the fact that my reality isn’t just in the present but it is also beyond in the reality of things to come: eternity. The hope for the funk is that through Christ there is victory over my (and your) funk.
I deeply love the movie-going experience: the rattling sound, the absorbing canvas, the butterflies that always accompany the lights’ final dimming and the film’s first credit, the occasionally pilfered-in Coca-Cola. In my view, a movie—certainly a good, technically vibrant one, which Aronofsky’s almost always are—should not be merely seen as much as it should be wrestled with and experienced. This requires a set apart, marked-off space, a modern-day sanctuary known to many as a “movie theatre.”
Our culture celebrates the physically beautiful yet disregards those they deem less so. Christians perceive beauty as something bad because of how the world perceives it. To be beautiful isn’t wrong, but our lenses for seeing and celebrating beauty shouldn’t be the same as the worlds.