I live for drama. I love the narrative of trying to figure out who the bad guy is. And televised slapping is my favorite. The Oscars were obviously great for me.
I have been talking to everyone I know about Will Smith giving Chris Rock the whatfor on behalf of Jada Pinkett Smith. At least in my circles, everyone has got an opinion about whether or not they would have Smith-slapped or not. Everyone but my brother.
My brother Aaron is significantly younger than me and newly married. He adores his wife. But aside from a childhood t-ball incident, I am not really sure he is the fighting kind. So I asked him, “Do you think you would have hit Chris Rock?”
And he says, “Honestly, Sarah, I am more likely to be Chris Rock in this situation than I am Will Smith.”
I know. I fell out of my chair too.
It turns out we all wanted to see ourselves (or our spouses) in the Will Smith role. Would we defend our spouse? Do we have anger issues? Is this movie hero righteous or sin righteous? It turns out we are all dying to see ourselves as the hero or the anti-hero of the story.
We can invent an entire universe of what we would have done in this very unlikely to ever happen to us scenario.
But perhaps this is all just an elaborate story to distract us from the fact that we are much more like Chris Rock. Just spewing out stupid and mean things with little regard for the people around us. We talk to baristas like our latte order is detailed chemotherapy. Teachers, nurses, and anyone who works with toddlers should all be paid triple for even having to grapple with humanity. We throw out phrases about “deserving a treat” like we are well taken care of toy poodles. And if you think what Rock said was bad, just think of the meanest thing you ever said to your spouse.
And all these people have to have entire days after they interact with our nonsense. Can you imagine?
We interact with others through our profound isolation. We forget that everyone carries the same broken, beating hearts. We act as though our childhoods were the only ones with challenges. Or we choose to believe that our righteous stance is somehow more legitimate than the causes of others. And we feel allowed to hate them for it.
We cannot just walk around (or sit at a desk) saying (let’s be honest, typing) whatever we want. These are people, for God’s sake.
The difference between Chris Rock and Will Smith is the difference between the prodigal son and eldest brother. These are both bad options. But attaching ourselves to Smith is much more glamorous than seeing ourselves as Rock. After all, he is the one that got slapped.
But maybe we need a little slap to snap us out of it. And certainly the struggles of the human condition regularly offer them. We may end up experiencing inexplicable grief or the mental health struggle of a lifetime. We may lose a friend over a fight or be unable to communicate with family. These kinds of fallen world slaps are not pleasant. But if they were, then we might not listen. There are days when we need to be unrooted from our own heroic self narrative just long enough to remember that there are other people around us.
I would suggest, though, that God offers the eldest son and the prodigal a different kind of slap in the Gospel. It is an unearned, never-saw-it-coming, Grace Slap. And we would do well to see it for ourselves. The prodigal fully anticipates falling to his knees in front of the father in deep remorse for his unspeakable sin. But before his shins can even touch the blades of grass, the father slaps his prodigal son with a hug. He grabs him in an embrace full of relief and joy.
And we cannot overlook the slap of grace that the father then lays on the elder brother. He is furious that the prodigal brother has been given a warm welcome while he was the uncelebrated hard working son. In one of the funniest lines of scripture, he complains to the father that he didn’t even give him a goat so he could party with his friends. It is basically the “I asked for oat milk, extra foam” of scripture. The father patiently hears out all his complaints. But like the dad that he is, he slaps his eldest child with a promise: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.”
As jarring as a slap across the face might be, it pales in comparison to the slap of unmerited grace.
But that is the promise we are given. For you. For me. For Willard. And for Christopher.
COMMENTS
3 responses to “More Like Chris Rock Than Will Smith”
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I still don’t get how violent words and actions done are connected with the mercy of God.
I think you have written two separate stories.
Grace is always given, not takin away. That is why this is one story, The only story of Jesus, our one and only savior to an undeserving world!
I like the connection between the prodigal/elder brother and Chris/Will