Recently, I went with a friend to see the movie, “Paul: Apostle of Christ.” We need more films like this, with a solid Christian worldview. Most of the good ones don’t come out of Hollywood any more, but from more obscure film companies answering God’s call. Thank you, Affirm Films.
I enjoy watching movies that highlight the human struggle and how that struggle impacts our relationship with God. “Paul: Apostle of Christ” did both. In fact, it prompted me to go back and re-read Acts.
While some of the film is fictionalized, it nonetheless highlights realities of the spiritual life. For instance, at the beginning, there is a dialogue between Luke and Paul, in which Luke asks Paul for his wisdom: “Should we stay in Rome or flee to a safer area?” Paul’s answer is as poignant as it is real. “I don’t know.” He adds something I can certainly relate to: “When I go left, Christ pulls me right. When I go right, Christ pulls me left.” In other words, God’s will is at times as confusing for him as it is for all of us. The good news for Paul – and for us – is that in trying to do God’s will, we are at least open to letting the Spirit work in and through us. And that type of perfection – that type of teleios – is exactly the kind that God can work with.
If we can’t always pinpoint God’s specific will in our own lives, we can take heart in the fact that many of the saints couldn’t either. What I’m confident about is that God wants us to be present in the here and now, to love those whom He gives us to love, and above all else, to love Him.
In the film, Paul displays a pervasive confusion that at one point or another hits all of us in our spiritual journeys. Sometimes I pray for wisdom, and it doesn’t come – at least not in ways I expect. Other times I’m at a loss for words when my own kids ask me questions. It’s amazing how easily I can impart “wisdom” to my students, but fumble when giving it to my own kids. Like the other day, when both of my daughters – in the same 24-hour period – asked me why they can’t hear God’s voice when they pray. I didn’t have an answer for them at the time. It came later, when I realized that what they probably meant to say was: “Why can’t we just jump on our phones and get instantaneous answers from God in the same way we get everything else?” I wonder if we all don’t expect the same instant gratification we get from our iPhones. And when it doesn’t work, we think God doesn’t hear us, or that our God-phones need charging, or that we need to go to a room with better WiFi.
God gives us a lifetime to wrestle in our relationships with Him; that “Israel” experience is more present than any of us like to admit. I wonder if the seeds we plant, and the example we give in our faith struggles, can strengthen our young people when they struggle.
If there’s one thing I learned about watching St. Paul in prison, it’s this: moments of deep faith are often riddled with periods of doubt and confusion. And anyone who acts like they have it together all the time probably doesn’t. I think it’s in that humility that God acts, not in the prideful supposition that we’ve “got it all figured out.” Still, we need to — in fact, I need to — rely on the Spirit to guide me, strengthen me, and push me when I’m in my own dark prisons — and to teach my daughters to do the same when they fall into theirs.
Maybe kids are wiser than we think. Maybe kids are smart enough to know truth when they hear it – and perceptive enough to despair when they don’t; hence, the alarming rates of depression, anxiety and suicide today.
Nowhere in the Bible are we guaranteed paradise on earth. I remind my kids of this regularly when they complain about “all the work” they have to do. I need to remind myself of this from time to time. When we find ourselves in the “prisons” of life, we need look no further than Paul to be reminded that there is no magic pill. But if we persevere, there will come a time when those chains are broken and the bars are unlocked. And it’s then we’ll realize we didn’t need a different WiFi spot to get an answer from God – just some time, and a little faith.
Paul Stuligross is director of campus ministry at Orchard Lake St. Mary’s Preparatory and is a retired police officer.