Beau is afraid. He’s afraid of everything. To Beau, simply walking across the street to get a bottle of water is the equivalent of trekking across a war zone. Not only is everything a danger, but he’s constantly being watched. Whether it’s a pair of eyeballs, a hidden security camera or a not-so-hidden phone camera, there is always a threat of judgment. Not only that, but he is constantly accused of misdeeds it appears he didn’t commit. His life is marred by incorrectly placed guilt and judgment. This is the premise of writer/director Ari Aster’s latest film, Beau is Afraid.

Unfortunately, we often find ourselves just as afraid as Beau, riddled with unnecessary guilt and burdened with empty accusations.

The Periodic Table has one hundred and eighteen known elements displayed on it and yet, even though it embeds and is practically infused with the oxygen we breathe, Gu is nowhere to be found on the multicolored chart. Gu, of course, stands for that irritating buggar of an intruder — guilt. The vast majority of human beings experience guilt in almost every facet of our lives: in connection with our relationships, the choices in food we eat, the way we spend our time, what percentage of screen time we allot for ourselves (or worse, for our kiddos) and on and on the list goes. In our individualized culture, guilt has become personalized for whatever path of life we have so chosen to follow, or not follow. One could even argue guilt shows up in those that actively reject it or try to excuse it away. In one way or another, it finds a way. But without a doubt, guilt has certainly found a home — and thrived for that matter — in religious circles. 

I could write paragraphs and paragraphs about anecdotal evidence of the presence of guilt found in religious settings, not to mention within myself at times, as the reader likely could as well. It’s no wonder one of the common traits of the Church perceived by outsiders is not only the use of guilt as an offensive weapon but a self-inflicting one as well. The Church is often portrayed in films, television and popular culture as those living in fear of doing wrong and thus inflicting the anger of God upon them — consequently treating others as having already done so and bearing the guilt of their sin. The vast majority, if not all, of my conversations with those outside the faith usually deal with an aspect of guilt. Most were part of the Church before and found themselves overloaded with guilt by preachers and parishioners. The term ‘ecclesiophobia’ was even created to describe a fear of churches or religion due to anxiety related to punishment for not living the correct moral life, i.e. guilt. Over the years having experienced different churches and coming across people of faith from all walks of life, this is something I’ve personally experienced as well.

Even foregoeing personal stories, the evidence seems to lean toward the religious having a proclivity to feelings of guilt. Barna researchers found that 34% of churched adults feel forgiven after church every time, 31% most of the time, 18% half the time and 10% sometimes, but not often and 7% almost never. When asked about leaving church feeling guilty only 34% stated almost never and 10% said every time with a whopping 56% in between. This is stunning data for an institution which aims to preach forgiveness for sinners. Another study by PubMed found “that the tendency for highly religious Christians and Muslims to experience greater obsessionality is related to their heightened sense of personal guilt and beliefs that they are responsible for controlling unwanted, threatening intrusive thoughts.” On one hand the gospel is the good news that there is now peace with God, freedom from guilt and shame and on the other hand, we all seem to have a proclivity towards law, guilt and navel-gazing — what ultimately appears to amount to unbelief. 

Beau is Afraid is the kind of film which when typed into a google search bar will bring up a litany of articles with a proposed interpretation — it certainly is an absurd visual journey which angles eyebrows more than most. I do not claim to be coming down Mt. Sinai with tablets inscribed with the proper interpretation written by the finger of Ari Aster. However, Beau and Aster definitely have a word on guilt. The entire movie is a story about him trying to make it to his mother’s funeral and all the bonkers events which occur on the way there. To describe them all would be a rather difficult task. To summarize, it is eventually revealed Beau’s mother is a type of overbearing divine figure. His mother made him fearful of the world and became an accusatory figure that defined his life. This becomes visceral in the final scene where Beau finds himself floating alone in a boat on a body of water in the middle of a colosseum-like venue. The stands are filled with viewers and on one side his mother sits looking down on him with her lawyer who states they will “assess the extent of the subject’s guilt”. On the other side, Beau’s lawyer. A screen above them brings up scenes from the past as he is accused of “sins.” As he tries to yell and explain himself, he goes unheard. His defense attempts to do his job but is eventually thrown down to his death on the rocks in the water. It’s a graphic, sad ending as Beau is ultimately declared guilty and the boat capsizes with Beau’s cries muffled by the intake of water. The crowd leaves and the credits roll. A judgment has been declared: Guilty. 

Beau’s life is not far off from what a lot of religious experience can feel like for those suffering under the weight of the law. Those proclaimed righteous and under no condemnation find themselves under the accusatory gavel of the law. A watchful serpent is always attempting to whisper a word of guilt in the ears of humanity. I believe it’s why in Paul’s letters he had to constantly remind all the churches of their identity. We continue to forget, slipping into a life like Beau’s where we live under the imagined accusatory finger of God’s disapproval.

I once belonged to a church that used the slang of “sin hunting” for what they’d do in small groups. It created an atmosphere similar to Beau’s, an atmosphere where you feel constantly judged with a watchful eye consistently on you. God can quickly transform from loving gracious Father to fault-finding, overbearing judge. Those who’ve been burned by the church and turned their back on it know this feeling all too well. When looking at the statistics mentioned above–and perhaps a simple conversation with anyone who’s had experience with religion–it’s clear this law-focused, gospel-withheld preaching slithers into our churches. More than that, it creeps into our minds. It’s clear more than just Beau is afraid.

Now it would be quite counterproductive to end with a new commandment: THOU SHALL NOT FEEL GUILY. (Although, God does seem to enjoy commanding us to not be afraid). There’s nothing like feeling guilty about feeling guilty — that would be a religious hamster wheel if I’ve ever seen one. Believe it or not, guilt is not a fruit of the spirit. It’s the rotten, blackened mush decomposing under the tree. And just as the fruit of the Spirit are produced via a call to remember the vine we are attached to, we are called to remember why we no longer bear guilt. Why it is that God has graciously given us a spirit of love and sound mind over a spirit of fear. It’s not only words on a page but actions carried out. Something done about our guilt and an act to prove there truly is nothing to fear. 

So before we shake ourselves out of our boots, there’s good news for those collapsing under the anxiety and weight of judgment and guilt. The accusations are empty. The accuser has no case. We stand justified with an impregnable defense. The gospel preaches not guilt but rather vindication on behalf of another. There are no fingers to be pointed, no sentences to be handed down. God does not change from loving and gracious Father and this love casts out fear and guilt. As John once wrote, “For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.” Therefore, let us leave the courthouse behind. The judge has set the gavel aside and invited us to a party out back. And fortunately, guilt is nowhere to be seen on the guest list. 

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