|
|
|---|
Undercover Blues
I suppose I would have been a Yankee
fan in the days of Babe Ruth. Although I sympathize with losers, I prefer
to see winners, the more dominant the better. Perhaps that is
connected with one of my childhood fantasies: to become so much more competent
than everybody else that I could go through life joking about everything.
I think others have had that fantasy too, for it has been a staple of
movies, from Superman to James Bond.
Undercover Blues takes up the theme
in a highly amusing way. Jeff and Jane Blue are CIA/FBI people (presumably
married, though one can't be sure these days) who show up in New
Orleans with a baby and with the high spirits of a young couple who
have the world as their oyster. It turns out they are chasing some villains
to the chagrin of the local police, who look silly by comparison. That is
the point of the movie: various people on both sides of the law, doubtless
very competent, even awesome, among their peers, turn into stumblebums
when up against the Blues. The prideful bungling
of the Blues' rivals reminds me of Inspector Clouseau:
in this movie there are about 20 Clouseaus. The
slapstick, the stumbling, the wonderful dialogue, and the fantasy of omnicompetence make this a wonderfully
entertaining film, though one must mention the presence of a few (I
mean a few) profane expressions and some sexual activity which is
not consummated on screen.
Of course, there is no place for God
in this movie; it is all thoroughly humanistic. But one can draw a
theological lesson between fits of laughter. The fact is that willy-nilly
the Blues illustrate God, as the all-competent one. The wicked may
appear invincible in their time, but up against God they provoke
only laughter (Psalm 2:7).
So consider your own trials. The wicked
may persecute you to the grave, but in time the Lord will give them what
for. Say in your heart, "with the Lord as my defender, what can man
do to me?" And then laugh. Christians are sometimes too serious
about life. I wouldn't advocate the presumptiousness
of the Blues; but God will have so much for us to laugh at in the last
day, it would be a pity to take everything seriously now. Laughter is
the result of a sense of true proportion, and that is one great
gift the Gospel gives to us.
Such laughter is deeply scriptural. In Christian history, the Lord Jesus has sometimes been represented as a clown, the fool (in the world's eyes) who makes foolish the wisdom of the world. Satan stepped into his own net, when he arranged for Jesus' crucifixion. And God's elect rose with him, surprised by joy. God responded gently to the laughter of Sarah, because he knew that although it was a laughter of unbelief there was something supremely appropriate about it, that Sarah could not have understood. Now Sarah's laughter rings through the ages. May our laughter join with hers, and with God's.