Fireproof: Water on Hotspots

A comment to my blog post, Fireproof, caused me to view Fireproof again. I like to be accurate, but try as I might, sometimes I do fail. This time I did. I got the quote wrong. In my original post I wrote:

And that’s the biggest error of the movie. At the “final breaking point” for the character played by Cameron, his father is leading him to realize that he has not kept God’s Law. The Law is being proclaimed in all its severity. “How can I go on loving someone who keeps rejecting me?” Cameron asks. His father is now standing near a cross, built near a lakeside trail. It is then Cameron realizes there is a connection between Christ and his marriage. His father fills in the gap, and does so beautifully while proclaiming the Gospel in all its sweetness, “God doesn’t love you because you are lovable, but because He loves you. He loves you because His Son died for you.” Then it all comes crashing down as the Gospel is ripped away and everything is left in utter despair, “But son, you’ve got to decide…” followed by a litany of what must be done to be acceptable or to let Jesus in. Shoulda known. Wasn’t it daddy who first told his son, “Well, you haven’t opened the door very much to let Jesus in, either.”

The quote I got wrong is, “But son, you’ve got to decide…” What Caleb’s father actually says is, “The cross was offensive to me until I came to it.” For that I do apologize. I do so dislike inaccuracy in my work, and I appreciate my attention being called to it.

However, that doesn’t undo what I have written about the movie; in fact, it further supports it. The scene is a powerful one. John Holt, Caleb’s father, gets the message of Law and Grace right, only to snatch Caleb from the comfort of Grace and then to toss him into the jaws of the Law and leave him back in it. I suppose the statement would be alright in and of itself if left in isolation and if it were the only one like it. We sometimes talk in that casual way. But Caleb's friend Mike at the station house exacerbates the situation when he says, “Before I gave my life to the Lord... When I gave my life to God...” All of this is Law-talk. It is speaking of what we do, not of what God has done and is dong for us in Christ. If it is our response to Him that completes conversion in some way, then how can it be said that it was all Christ’s work of salvation that saves us. Wouldn’t it be more accurate, if we are responsible to give our lives to God, to say that some of our salvation rests on us, as a part of our responsibility? In that case, wouldn’t that mean that Jesus is only a partial Savior, and we are co-Savior with Him?

Even young children can understand this, and they do because they have parents. They didn’t ask their parents to be their parents. Their mothers and fathers are theirs because they did something that caused the conception of their children. The children didn’t one day say, “I give my life to you. You are my father. You are my mother.” If my children had ever spoken to me that way I’d have taken them to the bedroom for a long sit-down.

Paul says we are at enmity with God, and cannot be subject to Him ( Ro 8:7). But this is good news, too. Jesus came for sinners, not the righteous, who have no need of Him (Mt 9:13). John Holt spoke rightly when he said the cross is offensive to those who reject not only Christ’s Grace, but also God’s Law. So how does this get reversed? How do us God-haters become those who desire to keep His Law? Something has to happen in a person in order for the cross to no longer be offensive, and that “something” needs to be delivered. That’s where God’s Grace comes in. Grace is what God has done and does through Christ. But what good is it for you if it is not given to you? How can it be effective in your life if it is not yours to apprehend? It is a simple concept: If we by nature are unable to turn to Christ (as Paul says), then Christ’s gifts must be delivered to us.

Children also understand the wonderful habit parents have of giving gifts. Parents will break the bankroll on birthdays and at Christmas for their children, then wrap the gifts and hide them until that special day arrives. The children know the gifts are coming. Is it enough for the parents to tell the little darlings, “We bought you gifts. Here are the receipts. We wrapped them up. We even have pictures of them–see?” Hardly! The gifts need to be delivered. The need to go from the hand of the giver to the receiver.

Christ has instituted the means whereby this happens with His Gifts for the Church through the Holy Spirit. Faith, once delivered, is not sustained in a vacuum. Nature abhors a vacuum, and once found, a host of that which is not of the Faith rushes in. Jesus sent His apostles out with the instruction, “He who hears you hears Me,” (Lk 10:16). This authority is reinforced after His resurrection when He tells His apostles that they are to forgive sins in His name, even withholding forgiveness from the unrepentant (Jn 20:23). Christ’s institution of Baptism for all nations, (Mt 28:19), goes hand-in-hand with “teaching all that He command” and His promise “lo I am with you, even to the end of the age” (Mt 28:20). In Mt 26, Mk 14, Lk 22, and 1Co 11 Christ locates Himself in the bread and wine. “This is my Body... this is My Blood.” With these words Christ has located Himself. He is wherever His baptizing and teaching, His Absolution, and His Holy Supper are going on. These are the things of the Church, for this is how the church knows where Christ is for them. It is by these Means the Holy Spirit is delivering God the Father’s gifts of Grace through and for the sake of His Son, Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins. This is how the church is created and sustained.

Caleb is left alone at the outdoor cross after his confrontation with his father. We see much of that in the movie: Caleb alone in the bedroom struggling and praying, Caleb alone with the computer, etc. Granted, not everything can be presented in this film, and perhaps the makers didn’t want to offend by presenting a church setting that might make it seem to lean toward one particular denomination. Choices have to be made. I get that. So the focus was on the marital issues. Still, marriage cannot be separated from its institution in Christ especially when a Christian organization wants to make a film on how to fireproof a marriage. A marriage cannot be fireproofed without water, and lots of it. And by “water” I mean the water of Baptism–through the daily living in it. We see and hear a lot about Jesus in Fireproof, but He is never delivered to anyone. The Gifts are purchased, wrapped, and hidden in a closet somewhere, waiting to be given. Not only did the characters in the film only receive (word) pictures of them, they also spoke as if they could give their lives to their own Heavenly Father–as if they had something to do with their own salvation!

This grates on me, for it is Law disguised as Grace. So it is for this reason I will continue to throw Kleenex boxes at the movie, and advise any right-minded pastor to not expose his congregation to the teachings in The Love Dare. Some have argued that it is good to use because it depicts the situations in marriages so well. That it does, as I have already written. Therein lies the entrapment. Fireproof is well-done, and does depict life as we know it. For that reason one is pulled in before even realizing it. And for that reason the false doctrine in it is even more dangerous. C. F. W. Walther advised his hearers:

Lastly, he [Paul] writes to the Galatian congregation, after errorists had found their way into them, in chap. 5:7–9: “Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth? This persuasion cometh not of him that calleth you. A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.” He means to say that a single false teaching vitiates the entire body of the Christian doctrine, even as a little poison dropped into pure water produces a deadly potion.1

Now as long as we are in the correction mode, There are two more things that need correcting–this time from the post Fireproof Reprise (I have to tell you, my memory is unreliable! That’s why I love my books.) I had complained that Caleb did not confess his sins. Wrong! Caleb did confess his sins to his wife, and she forgave him. In the blog post I can see I was thinking more of Holy Absolution. The forgiveness from his wife was a good scene–and necessary. Also, the song with the lyrics “waiting for Jesus” doesn’t occur while Caleb is on the trail, but later. There is less of that sort of thought when one knows where to find Him according to where He has promised He will be with His forgiveness of sins: in the water of Baptism, the preaching and teaching of His Word, His Absolution, and His Holy Supper.

There you are. Here I am. My Old Adam may be drowned daily and much, but he floats just as daily and much. I am a sinner. Thank God in Christ for Jesus!

1 Walther, C. F. W., Dau, W. H. T., & Eckhardt, E. (2000, c1929, c1986). The proper distinction between law and gospel : 39 evening lectures. Forward by Jaroslav Pelikan. Includes index. (electronic ed.) (350). Saint Louis: Concordia Publishing House.

Fireproof Reprise

In one scene Caleb, the character played by Kirk Cameron, is forced to make a decision between his internet addiction (which is really an addiction to pornography) and his covetous lust for a boat and his responsibilities as a husband. He unplugs the monitor, takes it outside to a table, and smashes it with a baseball bat. He does the same with the CPU. He leaves a nice bouquet of roses for his wife where the computer once sat with a note, “I love you more.” The money he’d saved goes to purchase a hospital bed and wheelchair for his wife’s mother so she can remain at home in comfort following her stroke. Kleenex time, right?

Well, let’s examine this some. It is true that the couple needed to stop this silly game of your money, my money, your bill, my bill. Marriages like that often indicate that the unity of the flesh is understood only to mean sexual partnership, not also human partnership and unity. Marriage isn’t meant to be sexual convenience. That is not the one flesh union God is speaking of. Marriage is the melding of two lives into one, although two persons are not absorbed into each other. Identities are retained. So when “Caleb’s money” paid for Katherine’s parents’ needs, it was actually their money being spent for a greater need than both of their own.

Perhaps Caleb needed to toss out the computer in order to stop his addiction. However, a more potent message was given when he did: It was the computer’s fault, so kill the computer! Where was the killing of the flesh in Caleb? Where was the confession of this sin from Caleb, and to whom? It was nowhere shown. In fact, in the scene of his final breakdown with his father along that lakeside trail, the song heard playing as the two were praying and talking had a refrain with words along this line, “waiting for Jesus...” Waiting for Him where? Like Simon Burch did when he shouted his confession to the sky and waited for an absolution that never came?

So the computer was offensive and had to be thrown out. It caused debauchery. Just like wine causes drunkenness and had to be tossed out of the Holy Supper of our Lord. It wasn’t until after Mr. Welch came along that even Baptists found justification for that, and rationalization for Christ not really serving wine at the marriage in Cana. What’s next? Obesity is the biggest health problem in America today. Bread causes obesity. So now we need to deep six the bread from Christ’s institution? Better yet, let’s find justification for hoodia as the real deal in the wafer served.

When Paul tells his hearers that being drunk with wine is debauchery, he does not also say “Don’t drink it,” for that would be giving a new command–one that his Lord had not given. Jesus tells us to drink wine, at least in His Holy Supper. Paul also says that we are to fill ourselves with psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, “submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.” It is then he describes the relationship of husband and wife as an icon of the relationship of Christ and His Bride, the Church. The relationship of husband and wife originated from the a bloodied side in the First Adam as he lay sleeping just as the relationship of Christ and His Bride arose from His bloodied side as He lay sleeping in the grave. The church is recalled to this each time she communes on Christ's Body and Blood in the bread and wine. Husbands and wives are recalled to this as they submit to each other as unto Christ.

In one remarkable scene in the movie, Caleb goes to his friend after his faith breakthrough and says, “I’m in.” The friend finally understands and responds, “You’re my brother from another Mother, which means we have the same Father.” I wanted to throw that non-existent Kleenex box at the screen and shout, “So why don’t you baptize babies?” St. Cyprian wasn’t speaking of a Mother who gives birth by air and sunshine. He was speaking of a Mother who gives birth by water and the Word. Yet this is denied to infants and its salvific work is denied by any who receive it at all by those who produced the movie Fireproof . “We know baptism doesn’t save,” is a commonly heard refrain. “It’s man’s work.”

It’s in the presupposition. Repeat after me: It’s in the presupposition. It is not what goes into but what comes out of... It is not what goes into but what comes out of... But how can we expect those who deny Baptism to infants to produce anything better? The answer is, we can’t. It hearkens back to the fact that it's because they cannot see that infants need Baptism. Jesus came for sinners, not the righteous. That gets in the way of going to one’s death with “my faith” being the last one good work held tightly in the hand before the throne of grace. The irony of plucking out the right eye that offends is the left one remains to pick up the slack. Gal 3:27; Col 3:9; Ro 13:14, all speak to putting on Christ. All Christ, nothing but. Our weak faith is no match for His one sentence from the cross, “It is finished.”

Fireproofing is wet work, daily and much.

Fireproof

An email this week from a deaconess colleague touted the movie Fireproof as a “must see.” “Bring a box of Kleenex,” it suggested. My husband is with his mother and sister this weekend, so I took a friend along. A good thing to do, too. If I’d taken along that box I might have thrown it at the screen. She’d have stopped me. We probably had the only dry eyes in the place.

Fireproof is the production of Sherwood Baptist Church in Albany, Georgia. Many of its members appear in the movie.

Kirk Cameron did as fine a job of acting as he can do. He plays a firehouse captain whose marriage is suffering from neglect. Erin Bethea is cast well as Catherine, his wife. There are some good firehouse humorous moments, as well as some well-played drama.

The marriage scenes are typical and can be related to by many who see the film. There is not a stretch-n-leap to fit oneself from the theater seat into the situation on the screen. The language was accurate and comfortable to the ears. The movie drew the watcher into the context of the setting and pulled him along, “Yeah, that’s how it is.” The defining line for divorce was: when you can get respect everywhere except at home, it’s time to call it quits. That’s an all too familiar refrain.

So far, so good. Then dad steps in with a challenge—a forty day challenge. Now why does that start to make the hairs on the back of my neck creep up? What is this? Forty Days of Purpose Marriage? And that’s what it turns out to be.

Fireproof is connected with the book, The Love Dare, which is a forty-day plan for re-igniting marriage. Samples of chapters can be downloaded in PDF files at their website. Christ’s parable of the Good Samaritan is presented as a moral tale demonstrating racial tolerance and mercy. If Christ’s essential gift of mercy is absent in His parable, then readers can be assured that He is absent in the larger theme of the book, marriage. And He is.

Marriage is spoken of as a social arrangement established by God, but Paul’s greater point that marriage is an icon of the church, Christ’s own Body, is not mentioned at all. To be fair, I’ve not read the whole book. Still, of what I have read, nothing flows in and out of Christ. Rather, all is centered in and out of decisions one makes for himself to do for another and for God.

And that’s the biggest error of the movie. At the “final breaking point” for the character played by Cameron, his father is leading him to realize that he has not kept God’s Law. The Law is being proclaimed in all its severity. “How can I go on loving someone who keeps rejecting me?” Cameron asks. His father is now standing near a cross, built near a lakeside trail. It is then Cameron realizes there is a connection between Christ and his marriage. His father fills in the gap, and does so beautifully while proclaiming the Gospel in all its sweetness, “God doesn’t love you because you are lovable, but because He loves you. He loves you because His Son died for you.” Then it all comes crashing down as the Gospel is ripped away and everything is left in utter despair, “But son, you’ve got to decide…” followed by a litany of what must be done to be acceptable or to let Jesus in. Shoulda known. Wasn’t it daddy who first told his son, “Well, you haven’t opened the door very much to let Jesus in, either.”

Faith flows in and out of Christ; faith is not a decision made by us.

Marriage is hard work, just like the movie said. Too hard for a quickie fix like the forty day challenge of The Love Dare.

Marriage is precious. So precious, Paul says, that husbands ought to treat their wives as those for whom they would die for, just as Christ died for the church. Fireproof was right on this point. Any “parasite” on your marriage, that which is attached to that sucks the life out of your marriage, needs to be gotten rid of. But sinners that we are, once that parasite is gone, a void is felt. What will replace it? Only living in Christ’s forgiveness, daily drowning the Old Man, and regular sustenance from His altar will provide the means for surviving that.

This is not to say there is no room for books that offer advice on ways to be kind and show mercy to your spouse. The Love Dare says, “If you accept this dare, you must take the view that instead of following your heart, you are choosing to lead it.” Wouldn’t it be better to have one’s reason and intellect conformed and informed by Christ so that it is led by Him? Without that, there can be no demonstration of selfless, sacrificial love, for those belong to Him. Apart from the certainty of the Gospel, giving up things for someone else, holiness living, and decision living leads to the despair of uncertainty and hopelessness.

From The Love Dare:

Remember, you have the responsibility to protect and guide your heart. Don’t give up and don’t get discouraged. Resolve to lead your heart and to make it through to the end. Learning to truly love is one of the most important things you will ever do.

Psalm 51:

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness. O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.

For myself, I’ll take Psalm 51 over The Love Dare. God took responsibility for my heart in Christ, even before He began creating the world. To say “I love you” is to choose to love beforehand. To learn what love is we look to Christ and His Father. To know what marriage looks like, we first look at Christ and His Bride.

As for Fireproof, the movie, watch it if you wish, but be forewarned of its decision theology. As for Fireproofing a marriage, there truly is a better way. Instead, why not remain wrapped in Christ first by Baptism, and second by marriage. Then daily live in that.

Draftees and Volunteers

Recently I spoke with a friend of mine whose wife has been struggling through cancer. She has already tried several forms of chemotherapy. To date none has been successful. The treatment she is currently taking is her last option. The treatment itself causes pain and suffering. She is literally at a crossroads. She is ready to for release from her body of death. Her husband is loath to let go of his wife of too few years. They were barely home from the honeymoon when they received the news of her cancer.

Knowing what they are going through would only be a pretense on my part. John and I will be married thirty-eight years this June. Cleaning up after each other is second-nature. He straightens out my checkbook (which no man nor beast but he can fathom); I wipe the walls when he pours the spaghetti sauce too quickly into the bowl and it splashes everywhere. We’ve both had medical needs requiring the other to be the other’s nurse, and, if need be, orderly. It goes with the territory called marriage.

Generally speaking, though, these are things that are worked into gradually—over years of knowing each other intimately and after having had years of “the better” before “the worse” is thrust upon the marriage. There is simply a “not fair-edness” when a marriage is barely months old and it is plunged into the burdens of bearing the worst of what life has to dish out.

To add to this husband’s burden, two congregations decided they would not bear his wife’s illness with him. He was unceremoniously and without cause sent packing from both congregations, in part because they tired of a pastor with an ill wife.

Maundy Thursday brought welcome respite to their lives. Pastor Husband was invited to officiate at Mass for the first time in several months. His bride was well enough even after a recent hospital stay to attend. When I spoke to him afterward he talked of nothing but the joy he had being in the pulpit once more, and even more of serving his wife the precious Body and Blood of our Lord. “This may be her last Easter this side of heaven.”

Simon of Cyrene was not a volunteer, but a draftee. He was just a visitor to Jerusalem who stood by the side of the road watching the proceedings, when suddenly a cross was thrust upon him to carry. And not just any cross, but Jesus’ cross. It was the cross on which a murderer, thief, adulterer, or a liar should be hung—and was. Jesus became all those things for our sakes. Barabbas, the murderer whose name means “son of the father” was set free so that on his cross the innocent Son of the Father was crucified in order that all men—all sons of the father—might be free.

Christians are brought to Baptism by the Holy Spirit working through the word, often in others who carry little infants to the font. It is then the cross of Christ is placed on the Christian, even little babies. Paul says all those who have been baptized were baptized into Christ’s death, and then raised from that death just as Christ was by the glory of the Father (Ro 6:3-4). Baptism is not for volunteers, but draftees.

The cruelty of sin strikes us in its unfairness. Baptism levels the playing field once more. In Christ there is no Jew or Greek, no slave or free, no division by enmity (Ge 3:16) between male and female—nor even any illness of body or soul—because all are redeemed in Christ (Gal 3:28-29). The redeemed in Christ are those baptized in Christ. Christ makes all things new again (Rv 21:5). Christ takes the baptized into himself, yet his cross still rest upon them. Just as Simon was drafted to carry Jesus’ cross when he could not, the baptized have also been drafted in Baptism to bear the cross for others when they are unable. It’s vocation: faith in Christ becomes love for neighbor.

It is by dying we live. In baptism we died on Christ’s cross. We are brought to death in baptism so that we might live by the glory of the Father, just as Christ did before us. For the Christian, life begins in water. In his work De Baptismo, Tertullian writes, “But we, little fishes, after the example of our Icqus (Icthus, fish) Jesus Christ, are born in water, nor have we safety in any other way than by permanently abiding in water.” What Christ has wrapped in himself by water we dare not unwrap—nor let dry out by neglect. This includes dumping the cross placed upon us because we think it’s just too bothersome to carry any longer.

We tire too easily of our crosses. We craftily manipulate the Law to suit our desires, and then we employ the Gospel to justify our sins. We flip and flop, exerting much energy trying to breathe, not really noticing that the font in which we are supposed to be flourishing is actually drying out. Woe to the one who actually leaps from the font, imagining from the desires of his heart that his life will be better outside it (2Pe 2:21).

Absolution—ever notice how wonderfully wet a word that is?—is tied to baptism. It plunges us once more into the depths of cleansing baptismal waters, wrapping the penitent once again in Christ. Absolution is a return to the cross for the sake of freedom from sin, but there is no escaping the cross that is to be borne for the sake of others. That is the life of the baptized: We are freed from the cross in order to bear the cross for others.

In Christ the playing field is leveled—even when it comes to the devotion of spouses bearing crosses for each other in their marriage. It is only sin that “unlevels” the field, makes it all unfair. In baptism—in Christ—what is done for one is done for Christ himself.