Grace

I watched the movie Les Miserables a couple of days ago.  I watched the stage production years ago in Toronto, so I was quite familiar with the story and the music.  Now, I know that Les "Mis" is not Holy Writ, and certainly not inspired or theologically point-on in all areas, but still, it made me think.

It's a story about two men:  the convict and the police officer.  Both are given a second chance.  Confronted with the chance they have been given, both must make a choice. And that's where the similarities end.

Valjean, his hands full of stolen silver, makes this declaration:

One word from him and I'd be back
Beneath the lash, upon the rack
Instead he offers me my freedom
I feel my shame inside me like a knife
He told me that I have a soul,
How does he know?
What spirit comes to move my life?
Is there another way to go?

I am reaching, but I fall
And the night is closing in
And I stare into the void
  Of the whirlpool of my sin
I'll escape now from the world
From the world of Jean Valjean
Jean Valjean is nothing now
Another story must begin!

He commits one last crime by breaking his parole, walks away from what he knew and embraces the new.  He truly changes from a man who thinks of only himself and his anger to one who repeatedly sacrifices himself for the sake of others.

And then there is Javert.  Righteous, confident Javert.  He's on the right side of the law.  He doesn't need to change, and he doesn't believe that anyone else can.  Bad is bad and good is good and that is that.  Until Valjean saves his life.  

Javert, his hands full of his deeds of righteousness, makes this declaration:

Damned if I'll live in the debt of a thief!
Damned if I'll yield at the end of the chase.
I am the Law and the Law is not mocked
I'll spit his pity right back in his face
There is nothing on earth that we share
It is either Valjean or Javert!

How can I now allow this man
To hold dominion over me?
This desperate man whom I have hunted
He gave me my life. He gave me freedom.
I should have perished by his hand
It was his right.
It was my right to die as well
Instead I live... but live in hell.

And my thoughts fly apart
Can this man be believed?
Shall his sins be forgiven?
Shall his crimes be reprieved?

And must I now begin to doubt,
Who never doubted all these years?
My heart is stone and still it trembles
The world I have known is lost in shadow.
Is he from heaven or from hell?
And does he know
That granting me my life today
This man has killed me even so?

I am reaching, but I fall
And the stars are black and cold
As I stare into the void
Of a world that cannot hold
I'll escape now from the world
From the world of Jean Valjean.
There is nowhere I can turn
There is no way to go on....

 Unable to live in a world of grace, Javert throws himself to his death.

I am gripped by that.  Two men were given grace.  One embraced it, but the other would rather die than live in a world in which grace exists.  It has made me think, because I wonder which man I am more like. . . .

You see, grace makes things messy.  I like it when I receive grace, but grace received means grace given, and the implications of that are staggering. It turns the one who was my enemy into my brother.  And I'm not sure I like that.  Do I really want to live in a world in which people who commit atrocities could actually truly repent, change, and be forgiven?  In which people who walk into public places and shoot the innocents could possibly be redeemed?  Or dirty old men who collect filthy pictures of small children on their computers could actually be forgiven?  A world in which dictators and despots who crush the little people could find grace in their time of need?  Because, if I accept the grace given to me, that's the kind of world I live in.  "My thoughts fly apart: Can this man be believed? Shall his sins be forgiven? Shall his crimes be reprieved?"  Do I even want those kinds of sins to be forgiven?  "I am the Law and the Law is not mocked!  I'll spit his pity right back in his face.  There is nothing on earth that we share!"  I understand that sentiment well.  I have felt it often.

 I can insist on the world of Javert, a world where the bad guy always gets it in the end and the good guy always wins, and there is no confusing who is bad and who is good.  It seems so neat and tidy -- nothing to question, nothing to doubt, nothing to get confused about.  But doing so means I reject all grace, even that extended to me.

Or I can accept the grace I have been given.  Then I also embrace the messiness.  I accept that my sins are no more or less horrific in the eyes of the Holy God than anyone -- anyone -- else's.  I accept that I am from the gutter as much as the gutter rat who blows up a school.  I accept that all sins can be forgiven, all crimes can be reprieved.  I accept that, in this world under the sun, sometimes the good guy doesn't win, and it seems that the bad guy does.  I accept that what I see is not all there is, that I am not the Law, and I place myself into the hands of the One who is, and whose grace and justice extends beyond what I can see.

Who am I more like?  Javert, or Valjean?

My soul belongs to God, I know.

I made that bargain long ago.

He gave me hope when hope was gone;

He gave me strength to carry on.

Who am I?

Who am I?

I'm Jean Valjean.