Failure...

Part of dealing with the hours upon hours of innards misery has been hours upon hours of on-line television and movie watching.  Some of it has been old favorites.  Some of it has been new shows ... especially British shows.  Currently, I am simultaneously working my way through Farscape, ReGenesis, and In Plain Sight.  This is the first time I have not stuck with a single series until it was finished.  The first and last are repeats, with this being my fifth time through Farscape.

Recently, I watched my all-time favorite episode of In Plain Sight, "Duplicate Bridge."  Each episode begins and ends with a voice-over commentary by the main character, WitSec Inspector Mary Shannon, played by Mary McCormack.  Between her pithy and insightful commentary on the human race and sometimes her own painful introspection--some of the best bits of the show--are stories of the life in the federal witness protection program.

What is also a sheer joy to watch is the interplay between Mary and her partner Marshall Mann, played by Frederick Weller.  Seriously, whoever cast this show is brilliant. From day one, the two seemingly misfits make this perfect match.  And Marshall is the perfect foil, or perhaps the penultimate opposite of Mary's inherent cynicism.

Within her life is the mess of all messes, family wise.  Its mark on her is both evident and hidden.  While Marshall seems to grasp that better than most, Mary's coming to understand herself and her fears is a large part of the show.  Flaws and foibles and failures lace nearly every episode, as does the inability to understand/accept/face the consequences of choices, of actions.

As a federal marshal, Mary is extraordinarily talented, catching people at the worst moments of their lives and navigating them through a change few could handle.  Some victims, most criminals given a second chance.  [Second chances have taken on a new meaning watching this series.]  But although her interpersonal skills are brusque and abrasive at best and her personal relationships are equally messy, she gets people.  Mary gets people because she gets the messiness of life and the failures that cling to us all.  She doesn't turn away from them.  And thus her success.  To watch is an ineffable comfort.  To watch is an extraordinary lesson ... if you are willing to look, willing to listen.

In "Duplicate Bridge," you encounter an architect who, after entering the program, discovers his life's work was based on an error, one that costs the death of people and flawed every bridge he created.  In the end, his confession of discovering his own error was followed by his suicide, as he destroyed the first bridge he ever built so that none may be harmed by it.  A complex mixture of honor and integrity and an inability to face such profound failure.

As part of the story line, Mary's sister, someone who has struggle to make any right choices in her life, has an assignment to write an essay describing herself from another person's perspective. Mary takes the suicide hard, struggling to process the choice of the witness to end his life and her partner's understanding of that choice. So, Marshall ends up helping her sister with the essay.

He first notes, as to what Mary might say is her fatal flaw: "You shed your failures like a raincoat and get up day after god-awful day expecting things to work out, even though they never do."

But then he points out the flaw in Mary's perspective of her sister: "She can’t accept failure is a part of life, the most important part. It’s the part that teaches us things and it’s the part that hurts."

Perspective.  All too often we are blinded by our own flawed, jaded, skewed perspectives, not even understanding that we cannot see rightly, truly.  That is why I love the Christian Book of Concord.  Oh, so very much!  Within its pages, among the texts written by different authors is a consistency of comforting certitude.  By this, I mean not only the sweet, sweet Gospel.  What strikes deep within my heart, what speaks to the core of me, what brings Light to my darkness, is this complete and utter understanding of the struggles of faith a Christian can find herself battling.  But not just understanding.  Along with the understanding is compassion and consolation.  There is no blame for the struggles, the doubt, the anguish  the despair--other than laying such rightly at the feet of our foe-- as the authors speak of these believers.  Instead, each and every time they are mentioned, the authors point to them as the very reason for the Gospel.  The sweet, sweet Gospel that is for them ... especially for them.

This came up in the BOC snippet I posted today, much to my pleasant surprise.  All day, I have savored, reveled in the words I read about the Living Word:

It must be carefully explained who the unworthy guests of this Supper are. They are those who go to this Sacrament without true repentance and sorrow for their sins, without true faith and the good intention of amending their lives. By their unworthy oral eating of Christ's body, they load themselves with damnation (i.e., with temporal and eternal punishments) and become guilty of profaning Christ's body and blood.

Some Christians have a weak faith and are shy, troubled, and heartily terrified because of the great number of their sins. They think that their great impurity they are not worthy of this precious treasure and Christ's benefits. They feel their weakness of faith and lament it, and from their hearts desire that they may serve God with stronger, more joyful faith and pure obedience. These are the true worthy guests for whom this highly venerable Sacrament has been especially instituted and appointed. For Christ says:

Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)

Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. (Matthew 9:12)

[God's] power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him; ... for God has welcomed him. (Romans 14:1-3)

Whoever believes in [the Son of God, be it with a strong or with a weak faith] may have eternal life. (John 3:15)

Worthiness does not depend on the greatness or smallness, the weakness or strength of faith. Instead it depends on Christ's merit, which the distressed father of little faith enjoyed as well as -Abraham, Paul, and others who have a joyful and strong faith. ~BOC, FSD, VII, 68-71


Held in my right hand:  Some Christians have a weak faith and are shy, troubled, and heartily terrified because of the great number of their sins. They think that their great impurity they are not worthy of this precious treasure and Christ's benefits. They feel their weakness of faith and lament it, and from their hearts desire that they may serve God with stronger, more joyful faith and pure obedience. These are the true worthy guests for whom this highly venerable Sacrament has been especially instituted and appointed. 

Held in my left:  Worthiness does not depend on the greatness or smallness, the weakness or strength of faith. Instead it depends on Christ's merit, which the distressed father of little faith enjoyed as well as -Abraham, Paul, and others who have a joyful and strong faith.

Both are clutched to my chest, as I curl my beleaguered body about this perspective of who I am in Christ.  I am washed clean in the waters of Holy Baptism.  And so I am worthy of His body and blood place in my own body, despite the weakness of my faith, because of His merit.  

Comfort.  Solace.  Refuge.  Certitude.

Even for the Christian, Marshall is right about failure.  It is the part of the life of faith that teaches us things--even though it hurts--the most important thing.  We learn that it is by and with and through and beneath the weight of the cross(es) in our lives--not our good works--that we truly taste the sweetness of the Gospel  Through them we learn more fully the gifts of the Lord's Supper:  forgiveness, sustenance, healing, and strength.


Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief!