A Film You Don't Want to See, but Must!

Several months ago, my wife and I came across a documentary on HBO entitled "How to Die in Oregon." It was described as a film that follows several folks who were terminally ill as they made decisions about their care, and mode of death, some involving Oregon's "Right to Die" law. So, of course, I tuned in. The film was inspiring, shattering, heartbreaking...in other words, my kind of movie! We noticed that it then disappeared from HBO's broadcast schedule, and I could find it nowhere. On a hunch, I contacted the producer and asked it the film would be available anytime soon. Sure enough, it was to be released during the first week of October. I placed my order, the film arrived and I screened it for my death and dying class. They were quite reserved after viewing, even more than they usually are. However, one can understand their understated response in light of the emotional wallop that the film delivers. I have viewed the film three times, and have searched for every review of it that I could find. Most of the reviews have been very positive. I found a review in a conservative Christian magazine, and, as might be expected, the reviewer was lukewarm in his opinion of the film, and seemed to not be able to get past the whole idea of "death with dignity". As a result, he did not deal with the film in any meaningful way. This is evident because he does not even mention the name of a person who became the centerpiece of the film. Cody Curtis was a professional woman, a wife and mother who was given a terminal diagnosis after a recurrence of liver cancer. She and her family allowed the producer of the film into their lives during the final year of her life. Her gentle nature, honesty, and wide-eyed wonder of the illness and its unpredictable course would have been enough to insure that her image remains with a viewer for a long time. But it is the grace with which she dealt with her illness, and the love that she exemplifies for her family and friends that takes a hold and won't let go. I do not know if she professed any faith tradition, and it does not matter to me if she did, or did not. In the glimpse of her life offered in the film I saw perhaps one of the greatest examples that I have witnessed of someone giving flesh and bone to Jesus' promise that those who are poor in spirit will be truly blessed. She approached the end of her life with a dignity, humility, honesty and wisdom that are far from commonplace. I hope that during the rest of my life, and in my dying, I may remember her life and exemplify even a small portion of her grace.

Enough to Send Us Running - Isaiah 45:1 - 7

The Hebrew Bible lesson this week describes how King Cyrus, a Persian, became, for a little while, the holder of the title, "Messiah." Indeed, in Isaiah 45:1, Cyrus is referred to as "anointed one." Whoa there! How does Persia, long an enemy of Israel, get to produce a messiah? Well, think of it as "acting messiah." I work on a college campus where we have acting Deans and Directors somewhere, in some division, almost all the time. They hold the position and title while a person for the permanent position is being sought. So it was with Cyrus: he was a placeholder for the real anointed one, a port in a storm, if you will. The Israelites who had been exiled to Babylon longed to return home, at least, many of them did. Cyrus became the instrument by which God was able to accomplish that feat. I have seen the color drain from the faces of folks when I ask them if they have ever heard that the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty King  that is spoken about in Handel's "Messiah" might have been referring to King Cyrus. We are so used to projecting everything in the Hebrew Bible forward onto Jesus that we can barely entertain the idea that the writer of Isaiah may have been writing about someone else, at least in the case of chapter 45. After all, if some yahoo from Persia could get to be an instrument of God just by allowing some of the residents in a country he had just conquered to go home, then anybody anywhere at any time could have a chance to be an instrument of God. Yikes! That is about as frightening a thought as we are likely to have, ever! If God would choose to use as as instruments, it might mean that our schedules would be thrown into chaos. We like the predictability of our lives, don't we? Our routines are sacred times, and they are ingrained into us and we feel comfortable there. One need not read very far in the Hebrew Bible or New Testament until the idea that God likes to upset comfortable lives becomes readily apparent. We don't know what Cyrus thought of the whole thing, though we do know that he possessed a very healthy ego. Not long after conquering Babylon, Cyrus allowed all exiled peoples to return to their homelands.  The version of this edict on the famous Cyrus cylinder states, "I am Cyrus, king of the world, great king, legitimate king, king of Babylon." However, in Isaiah's account, God's attributes are listed numerous times, with Cyrus being mentioned by name only twice. In the eyes of Isaiah, Cyrus was the actor, but God was the writer, stage manager and director. Cyrus was the icing, God was the cake. In a time in America when political egos are larger than ever, and politicians of a certain ilk are only too happy to proclaim their divine credentials, the story of King Cyrus is a cautionary tale. Cyrus was probably the most powerful guy on the planet in his day. But he gets only brief mention in the story of faith, because he was an almost accidental tourist on the itinerary of stops on the way to the coming of the Kingdom of God. What would we give to make such an impact on the lives of the faithful where we live? And why don't we make such an impact?