Friday, December 31, 2010

The Theology of Mr. Potato Head, or How Toy Story 3 Changed My 2010

Happy New Year, folks!

The social crux of my New Year's Eve was watching "The Next Food Network Star" in the kitchen as my mother played a game of online Scrabble a few feet away. So now I can focus on 2010 reflections.

Was my favorite album of the year Speak Now or My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy? Yes friends, you can be both a Taylor and a Kanye fan. It's one of the miracles of modern science.

As far as movies goes, The Kids Are All Right was life affirming and funny and wise, and Exit Through the Gift Shop was the most entertaining film I have seen since Operation Dumbo Drop.

But, the movie which taught me the most about life, love, and other mysteries, is Toy Story 3. This movie has more God in its credits reel than Mel Gibson will ever have in his entire filmography.

Here is what I learned from it:

1. No one believes me, but I think this story is an allegory about Christ and the Church. If that doesn't make you want to add it to your Netflix queue...then you're a lot cooler than I'll ever be.

Okay, but let me break it down: So, the toys by themselves have very little meaning. Toys without a child to play with them are just plastic forms or wooden shapes. Andy, the toys' owner, gives them each a soul, a life, a story.

The toys become fearful as soon as they believe that their owner is gone and, with him, the meaning of their lives. They not only love Andy as he loved them, but their existence means very little without him. A life without Andy means a life without a story--a story which, for so many years, involved a sense of danger, a great adventure, a quest for good in the face of evil.

There are moments of confusion and pain during the Christian life in which God feels very far away. I rarely doubt God's existence, but I often doubt His love and grace. The toys know that Andy once cared about them, but when separated from him they are confused about his love.

As C.S. Lewis wrote in A Grief Observed, Not that I am (I think) in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him. The conclusion I dread is not ‘So there’s no God after all,’ but ‘So this is what God’s really like. Deceive yourself no longer.’

Christ even experienced the same doubt as he died: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

In the times that we are happy and prosperous, we hardly have any sense of needing God. Our conversations with Him during these moments are praise-filled and self-assured. But in more silent moments of fear and loneliness, it is difficult to remember a time when we were ever on speaking terms.

When Andy was a child and his care for his toys was evident, they could not have believed their lives could ever look any different. How distant he seems when the toys leave home with only a scratchy signature on their feet to remind them of their owner's love.

As usual, I am reminded of O Holy Night. Besides All I Want For Christmas is You (obviously), this is my favorite Christmas carol for its poetic narration of the human experience and the utter beauty of being reunited with God through Christ. The line 'til He appeared and the soul felt its worth describes the sheer delight and relief of knowing you are truly loved.

Humans without souls are silly-looking creatures of bone and flesh with brains to tell us that we need to eat and sleep and take our hand off the hot stove. But our souls tell us who we are, why we're here, what we mean. The soul gives us our first memory of God, that every time we meet a beautiful person, partake in a joyful meal, hear a glorious song, or get a sternum-ache during the viewing of a particularly emotional Fellini movie or the sight of a particularly stirring Vermeer painting...we are reminded of the power and love with which we were created and have our being.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices is the line that gets me every time. Toward the end of the movie, we witness the toys experience this kind of joy. They are finally reunited with the same love which gave them life, and their weariness is met with a renewed confidence that their lives are meaningful, and most importantly, that they are loved.

2. The characters are admirable. The toys have dynamic personalities and distinct flaws--Woody is clearly the only child who never entirely learned to share, and Buzz's arrogance has hardly faltered--but they are good.

I had a chemistry teacher in high school who told us on our first day of class that cheating was the only offense that would get you kicked out of his classroom for good. He explained, "When stripped of all else, you have your integrity."

I think about this all the time. I certainly thought about it for every chemistry test I got handed back with a giant red D+ on it. "Hey, at least I have my integrity," I thought (my mother was less impressed with my honor). And I still think about it when I make important decisions, like when I'm considering whether or not to steal a seventh sample of dark chocolate truffles at Whole Foods.

Toy Story 3 illustrated my teacher's adage beautifully. Toward the end of the story, the characters truly possess nothing else but their integrity. There is a moment when they can decide to get rid of The Enemy (a fuzzy pink bear) once and for all, and instead, they offer him redemption.

At another point, they have no other option but to die. They face their doom with dignity, holding hands to signify that they are a team and that their priority is family. When one toy was weak, the others helped out. When another triumphed, he gave credit to the rest. They chose to live and die as a team, selflessly and respectfully.

Despite fear and confusion after separating from Andy, the toys continued to believe that their lives mattered. They fought for one another, defended each other, and they continually showed grace to those who hurt them. And, despite feelings of neglect and worry, they always believed that they would some day be reunited with Andy. They never truly lost hope, even while facing death, that love was worth seeking and defending.


3. The characters sought adventure.
This is the part of the movie that most affected me personally. The toys made lofty goals, followed wild ambitions, and retained a sense of overwhelming wonder and desire.

Viewers of the movie never doubted that the characters knew what they wanted and so badly wanted it. The toys were willing to sacrifice for their team and take risks for the sake of their meaningful aspirations. They attacked life as if it were something to be attacked.

After seeing the film, my 3D goggles completely soggy with tears, I began to think about the questions the characters asked: What does my life mean? What do I want? What am I willing to sacrifice for the things I want and the people I love?

It was the prompting of these questions which inspired me to make a couple tricky decisions--my move being one of them--and begin to live in a way that would make for a much better adventure, for a much more beautiful, interesting, and surprising story.

I realized that I had begun prioritizing familiarity, which as you all probably have discovered for yourselves is not much of a virtue. It is nice to be comfortable, but staying within the familiar will not get my life's story far beyond Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Mari.

This year, I hope to push my story into wilder chapters, ones which provide opportunities for risk-taking, decision-making, and character-building. I hope there are opportunities to show grace to the proverbial fuzzy pink bears in my life, to hold hands with the aphoristic Buzz Lightyears, and to show others the love that was first shown to me.

I also aspire to floss daily, and eat more vegetables.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Annapolis

...is really pretty.

So am I! Do you like this squinty face? Should I send this picture in to Tyra Banks and report that I've learned how to "smile with my eyes" per her instruction?


In Annapolis, it's very easy to pretend you are a dignified English gent who sailed the stormy seas for to make his fortune on the middle eastern coast of the New World. I know it's easy because I did it all day.


So many idiots name their boats stuff like "Magestic Thought" and "Imagine." If I had a boat, I would name it something truly clever like "Fickle Pickle" or "Whitney Houston."


My mom and I had coffee, which I took as an opportunity to remove my coat and show the world this outrageous necklace. I wish I loved everything as much as I love this necklace.


I even painted my nails to match it. If you think that's a joke, you don't know me very well.


I officially have Boat Fever. I wish that were a romantic, 17th-century disease, but it is rather the state of my mind lately, which gives thought to nothing else except for boats and cake decorating shows.


Here is my mother looking like a dish! I set that shopping bag down by her foot but don't hold that against this photo.


Here is me walking through the streets of Annapolis, probably thinking about cake decorating shows.


Then we visited the State Capitol, because I want to get on good terms with Maryland.


This is the entrance. Not sure what's going on with this flag.


You can consider this next picture your electronic Christmas card from me. Ho ho ho!


I made my mom take a picture of me with George Washington of course.


Then I danced in front of him, which my mother also wisely documented for purposes of posterity.


The State Capitol building can only provide so many hours of fun, so we kept walking and saw many houses that I would like to inhabit.

There was one with a British flag; it's probably the house that Prince William bought for me as a surprise engagement gift. Oh wait.

As you can see, I've become something of a shutter nut since moving to the east coast. I'm bonkers about shutters, which probably means that New England is where I belong.

However, I'm a complete wimp when it comes to cold weather, as evidenced by the time I spent during Chicago winters defrosting my extremities, pouting under heat lamps, and exclaiming SOMEBODY GET ME INSIDE OR EVERYONE'S DEAD to complete strangers.

Lucky for me they invented Maryland which has the architecture of New England but weather suitable for people who hate being miserable.


I can't get enough of shutters. If there were a Shutter of the Month Club, I'd be the first to join.



How clever is this person? Holly in a flower box instead of dead plantlife! I'm so impressed.


This site is the location of my imaginary future household.


My first thought upon seeing this sampler was, "Aw, that's cute." Then I thought, "Wow, what a profound statement." Then I thought about it for the rest of the afternoon, when I wasn't busy eating a cannoli.


I am still in "OMG THE OCEAN" mode. I have even decided to give my apartment a nautical theme. My mother is concerned that I'm going to "overdo it." Which of course is completely preposterous. It's not like I almost bought a crab-shaped door-knocker today. Or a sign that said "Sailor Parking Only." Or this gigantic ceiling whale.


Does somebody want to explain the Maryland flag to me? Here, allow me to use the internet.

"The flag of the state of Maryland consists of the heraldic banner of George Calvert, 1st Baron Baltimore."

That is officially the least helpful thing I've ever read on Wikipedia.


Here is the china we use in my imaginary future household. We bring it out when we have Beyonce and Jay-Z over for dinner.


If I lived in this house I'd probably spend too much time waving to people from the balcony while singing "Don't Cry For Me Argentina." Probably better that I don't.


Ever wondered what a wreath made out of apples would look like? Wonder no more.


Tomorrow I go to look at an apartment in Baltimore. I will judge it by its ability to display tasteful nautical decor. And possibly a giant ceiling whale, if one of you wants to make me the happiest person alive.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

I've been listening to P!nk, watching the E! True Hollywood Story of Jennifer Lopez, and doodling puffins

Every Christmas, starting last Christmas, I gift my mother a calendar compiled of little doodles accompanied by the verses from her favored hymns.

Being a certified Mom, she loves this stuff! Here is a sneak peek of this heartfelt nonsense:









This blog has been a little Jesus-heavy (not that you didn't know what you were getting yourself into), so here is a bonus array of completely (well, mostly) secular images from the streets of Baltimore:














Y'all come and visit!