The Village is my favorite M. Night Shayamalan movie. If you haven't seen it, I'm going to spoil it for you.
Actually, I think it makes better watching after you already know the twist.
The movie opens in a village that has the technology and, more or less, the culture of the mid-nineteenth century, but with a twist. Everyone in the village is terrified of Those We Don't Speak Of, monsters in red robes that come to terrorize the town sometimes. This has the effect of keeping everyone in the village--nobody ventures into the woods that surround it, although they know in a vague way that "The Towns" are out there.
Only the monsters aren't real. They're actually citizens of the village that dress up on occasion. They are making the outside world extra scary and enforcing extra boundaries for their children, because they want their children to be safe.
You see, the founders of the village all lost someone to murder. Their idea was to found a community away from the world, to keep evil away from their kids. To be safe. If they just make the kids understand how dangerous "The Towns" can be, then they'll stay in the protected environment and never meet evil.
But, as the movie goes on, we find out that evil--a murderer--is within the village. The extra boundaries didn't keep them safe after all.
I think the theme of the movie is that evil isn't something that is Out There; it's inside us. As Christians we should know this. But very often we make the exact same mistake as the village founders.
For instance, I've been following a conversation on another blog about the new movie Les Miserables. I haven't seen the movie, but I know the story; it's a powerful one about grace and redemption. And also, as it happens, about prostitutes, thieves, and dishonest cops. I mean, if you're going to talk about grace and redemption, you also have to talk about sin, right?
The blogger recommended seeing the movie for the moving themes of grace, forgiveness, and the love of God. However, some of her commenters felt that no Christian should see Les Mis because the prostitutes--gasp!--dressed like prostitutes. This, they felt, was so offensive that it would assault the purity of anyone who watched the film.
(Full disclosure: I did a Google search for the character of Fantine, who was supposed to be the most objectionable. I may just be not super-sensitive, but the worst I saw was bare shoulders, and I'm pretty sure if there had been anything more overt in the movie, it would have been on Google Images. Also, any guy who can have his purity assaulted by a character who's had to shave her head and sell her hair and teeth to feed her starving child has issues.)
The argument went back and forth; I thought the blogger was very patient and she did acknowledge that if someone has an issue with bare shoulders they probably shouldn't see the film. Finally the anti-Les Mis commenter trotted out the old cliff argument: "Why do you want to see how close you can get to the edge of the cliff without falling? Why not be as far away from the cliff as possible? Why not stay as far away from sin as possible?"
Well, no one is arguing that we should toy with sin.
But I will insist that if the Bible doesn't call something sin, then we shouldn't. That amounts to elevating the traditions of men (bare shoulders = PORN!) over the commands of God ("don't look lustfully at a woman" - I'm pretty sure it's possible to look lustfully at a lady in a burqa if you really want to).
This is dangerous for a few reasons:
1. Man-made standards are actually achievable in our own strength.
If your whole idea of chastity consists of not watching certain movies, you're going to be able to achieve that pretty easily. If, however, chastity means something much deeper--like consciously working to be happy with and overjoyed by your wife's body, even if she doesn't look the way she did when you got married--that's hard.
See, we like achievable standards. In The Village the standards were simple: no one wore red, no one talked about the monsters, and no one went in the woods. Those are standards we can keep. They're pointless, but we can keep them.
2. When we achieve our man-made standards, we look down on those who don't.
This becomes the whole point of having man-made standards.
At first, I'm sure, the standards are really there because we want to be safe. If looking at a woman lustfully is a sin, we just won't look at immodestly dressed women.* Done. (And that means we will never get divorced. Don't laugh--I've actually read this claim before.)
But the pressure of man-made standards is subtle, and it creeps up on us. Soon we're so sensitive to the issue of looking at women that we begin to worry about the modestly dressed ones. I mean, couldn't they stand to be a little more modest? I mean, sure they're covered, but their shiny hair is still visible, and some guys are attracted to nice hair! If they see your bouncy shiny hair, they will lust after you! Cover that up. (I'm not joking, I've read this too.) Pretty soon the guy who hasn't ever dealt with the lust in his heart in the first place is stuck only looking at women's feet when he has to talk with them.
Then we realize that some people have a thing for feet and now we can't look at feet any more. We begin saying that really modest dress includes a skirt that goes all the way to the floor, so no one will see your salacious feet. And men and women should probably stand with their backs to each other while they're talking--that will eliminate any chance of looking at each other at all.
And then we we compare our hyper-"modest" standard to the way that people who don't worry about feet dress, we'll feel like they are indeed naked heathens, even if they're perfectly adequately covered. This gives a nice flush of self-satisfaction; when we're comparing ourselves with other humans, we can always find someone to make us look good.
You see how it works?
*I don't mean to make light, here, of the very real struggle that men face with visual lust, nor do I mean to say that women don't have a responsibility to dress within the bounds of decency. My point, though, is that standards of modesty, unlike standards of chastity, are culturally determined. When we elevate a cultural standard--say, skirts on women--to the place of a Biblical standard, we get into craziness like the stuff I've outlined above. As an example of how cultural standards change, we no longer require married women to wear wimples (they did in the middle ages), we no longer view elbows as sexy (the Victorians did), and we no longer think that a man wearing a codpiece is okay.
3. Man-made standards have a Forbidden Closet of Mystery effect.
The Simpsons have a quote for everything:
(It's a lovely song, isn't it, when he finally takes her hand?)
Actually, I think it makes better watching after you already know the twist.
The movie opens in a village that has the technology and, more or less, the culture of the mid-nineteenth century, but with a twist. Everyone in the village is terrified of Those We Don't Speak Of, monsters in red robes that come to terrorize the town sometimes. This has the effect of keeping everyone in the village--nobody ventures into the woods that surround it, although they know in a vague way that "The Towns" are out there.
Only the monsters aren't real. They're actually citizens of the village that dress up on occasion. They are making the outside world extra scary and enforcing extra boundaries for their children, because they want their children to be safe.
You see, the founders of the village all lost someone to murder. Their idea was to found a community away from the world, to keep evil away from their kids. To be safe. If they just make the kids understand how dangerous "The Towns" can be, then they'll stay in the protected environment and never meet evil.
But, as the movie goes on, we find out that evil--a murderer--is within the village. The extra boundaries didn't keep them safe after all.
I think the theme of the movie is that evil isn't something that is Out There; it's inside us. As Christians we should know this. But very often we make the exact same mistake as the village founders.
For instance, I've been following a conversation on another blog about the new movie Les Miserables. I haven't seen the movie, but I know the story; it's a powerful one about grace and redemption. And also, as it happens, about prostitutes, thieves, and dishonest cops. I mean, if you're going to talk about grace and redemption, you also have to talk about sin, right?
The blogger recommended seeing the movie for the moving themes of grace, forgiveness, and the love of God. However, some of her commenters felt that no Christian should see Les Mis because the prostitutes--gasp!--dressed like prostitutes. This, they felt, was so offensive that it would assault the purity of anyone who watched the film.
(Full disclosure: I did a Google search for the character of Fantine, who was supposed to be the most objectionable. I may just be not super-sensitive, but the worst I saw was bare shoulders, and I'm pretty sure if there had been anything more overt in the movie, it would have been on Google Images. Also, any guy who can have his purity assaulted by a character who's had to shave her head and sell her hair and teeth to feed her starving child has issues.)
The argument went back and forth; I thought the blogger was very patient and she did acknowledge that if someone has an issue with bare shoulders they probably shouldn't see the film. Finally the anti-Les Mis commenter trotted out the old cliff argument: "Why do you want to see how close you can get to the edge of the cliff without falling? Why not be as far away from the cliff as possible? Why not stay as far away from sin as possible?"
Well, no one is arguing that we should toy with sin.
But I will insist that if the Bible doesn't call something sin, then we shouldn't. That amounts to elevating the traditions of men (bare shoulders = PORN!) over the commands of God ("don't look lustfully at a woman" - I'm pretty sure it's possible to look lustfully at a lady in a burqa if you really want to).
This is dangerous for a few reasons:
1. Man-made standards are actually achievable in our own strength.
If your whole idea of chastity consists of not watching certain movies, you're going to be able to achieve that pretty easily. If, however, chastity means something much deeper--like consciously working to be happy with and overjoyed by your wife's body, even if she doesn't look the way she did when you got married--that's hard.
See, we like achievable standards. In The Village the standards were simple: no one wore red, no one talked about the monsters, and no one went in the woods. Those are standards we can keep. They're pointless, but we can keep them.
2. When we achieve our man-made standards, we look down on those who don't.
This becomes the whole point of having man-made standards.
At first, I'm sure, the standards are really there because we want to be safe. If looking at a woman lustfully is a sin, we just won't look at immodestly dressed women.* Done. (And that means we will never get divorced. Don't laugh--I've actually read this claim before.)
But the pressure of man-made standards is subtle, and it creeps up on us. Soon we're so sensitive to the issue of looking at women that we begin to worry about the modestly dressed ones. I mean, couldn't they stand to be a little more modest? I mean, sure they're covered, but their shiny hair is still visible, and some guys are attracted to nice hair! If they see your bouncy shiny hair, they will lust after you! Cover that up. (I'm not joking, I've read this too.) Pretty soon the guy who hasn't ever dealt with the lust in his heart in the first place is stuck only looking at women's feet when he has to talk with them.
Then we realize that some people have a thing for feet and now we can't look at feet any more. We begin saying that really modest dress includes a skirt that goes all the way to the floor, so no one will see your salacious feet. And men and women should probably stand with their backs to each other while they're talking--that will eliminate any chance of looking at each other at all.
And then we we compare our hyper-"modest" standard to the way that people who don't worry about feet dress, we'll feel like they are indeed naked heathens, even if they're perfectly adequately covered. This gives a nice flush of self-satisfaction; when we're comparing ourselves with other humans, we can always find someone to make us look good.
You see how it works?
*I don't mean to make light, here, of the very real struggle that men face with visual lust, nor do I mean to say that women don't have a responsibility to dress within the bounds of decency. My point, though, is that standards of modesty, unlike standards of chastity, are culturally determined. When we elevate a cultural standard--say, skirts on women--to the place of a Biblical standard, we get into craziness like the stuff I've outlined above. As an example of how cultural standards change, we no longer require married women to wear wimples (they did in the middle ages), we no longer view elbows as sexy (the Victorians did), and we no longer think that a man wearing a codpiece is okay.
3. Man-made standards have a Forbidden Closet of Mystery effect.
The Simpsons have a quote for everything:
When something is forbidden, it becomes more attractive. That's just how we are. If rock n' roll, for instance, is described to you as Very Dangerous Music With Demonic Powers Inherent In The Beat, it's more interesting than if it's just a few guys singing somewhere in a studio.
I believe this is why so many kids from intensely sheltering, strict, man-made-standard-heavy households wind up, as soon as they leave home, deep in everything they were forbidden while they were growing up. They try one thing--say, maybe, listening to a Marilyn Manson song. They find, to their surprise, that no demons burst from the speakers to eat their soul. Nothing bad happens--in fact, some of the music is kind of cool.
That's because it isn't a sin to listen to a Marilyn Manson song. (No. It isn't. I don't like him either, but it isn't.)
But if their parents have drilled it into them that this type of music is the devil, they will begin to wonder about the other things in the Forbidden Closet of Mystery. And unfortunately, parents who keep such closets tend to forbid a lot of really stupid, harmless stuff along with the really dangerous things--but they don't give their kids any guidance about which is which. It is all Simply Forbidden. And so the kid has no discernment that, for instance, premarital sex is a bigger deal than listening to a song--it was all Forbidden, it was all on the same level.
And then...
4. Man-made standards lead to despair.
In The Village, all their careful rule-following didn't protect them. One boy becomes envious of another and stabs him. They were looking for the evil Out There--all their power was bent on keeping the world away. But their concentration was on the wrong front. They were fighting the wrong battle. It turns out that rule-following has no power to change our hearts or make us into righteous people; the evil was inside us all along.
And then the satanic nature of extra-Biblical standards becomes apparent: the villagers are trapped in their own lie. They have no way to get the medicine they know exists outside the town--the medicine that can save the dying boy's life.
Man-made standards isolate us. Because we've spent so long looking down on people who don't dress, talk, watch, read, and think like we do, we have no one to talk to. We have no way to find perspective when our system tumbles down. (And it will. They all do.) And then the people who were so sure that they were walking the very closest to God begin to wonder whether He even exists. Or they wonder if they were ever really His children, or whether He has abandoned them.
Brothers and sisters, it should be apparent from this that the standards we put up are not His. Truth never, ever, ever, ever leads to bondage and despair. EVER.
So what do we do then?
Tell the truth. - If you are struggling with a sin, admit it without putting the blame on other people. Deal with it, even flee from it if need be--maybe you're a guy who really can't ever look at a woman's feet without having issues. That does not mean you get to insist everyone wears heavy boots--you just can't look at feet.
(A great thing, though, about admitting your struggles, is that Christians will respond graciously without your having to put a fake rule on them to make them do so. Ladies will quit wearing sandals, in our slightly silly example. It's what we're supposed to do for each other.)
And feast on the Truth--feast on Scripture, with an open heart. Don't read the Bible to prove your points. Don't read it to disprove someone else's points. Read it to see what it actually says. You will be astonished at the love and grace that spills from every word.
See, we're not supposed to earn our salvation by keeping the right rules. We already know, before we start that game, that we can't do it. This is what distinguishes Christianity from every other religion--they are all about sacrificing the right goat on the right hill to earn a god's favor. We know that we can't meet God's standards.
So we don't even have to try. That's the whole reason Jesus came to be punished in our place. Ironically, the only way we can do the will of the Lord is by ceasing to try to follow "the rules". The only possible way we can keep His law is by relying on His love.
When you're freed from trying to keep up with dozens or hundreds of man-made rules, you're free to concentrate on the Lord and deepen your relationship with Him. When you're not so worried about what other people are going to think, you can discern what He thinks. And when you are sure that He loves you because He chooses to, and not because of the stuff you do, you're free to love Him back, without being worried that He's going to drop you.
Phew. A long post.
Short version: Go watch The Village, and then Les Mis, with your Biblical goggles on. Tell me how Les Mis is.
Cheers,
Breanna
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