Morning Thanks--Irresistible grace

AP photo

Long ago, I recognized the story line, as did many others. His was a path I recognized. Paul Schrader was not the first artist born and reared in a Dutch Calvinist milieu, not the first to stamp the dust off his or her feet when they leave but somehow, continue to hang around. 

Can we count Piet Mondrian as a member of such a coterie? Strictly Reformed upbringing, moves into art--high art--an early pioneer of the abstract, whose work somehow carries the imprint of the theological world he could never quite leave.

Or Van Gogh, who left the church but could never, would never, walk away from the God he'd been brought up to love and respect. He once told his brother, “I am still far from being what I want to be, but with God's help I shall succeed.” Is that cliché, or a confession of faith. You decide.

And then there's Peter DeVries, a novelist some consider the finest humorist of the 20th century. Walk away?--you bet. But lose something of the cosmic dimensions of the Calvinism with which he was raised? Not really. Just read reviews sometime. Better yet, read the novel people say is his masterpiece, The Blood of the Lamb. There may well be some sputtin there, but no spoofing.

Fred Manfred honestly never believed he left, but the families who stayed in the pew certainly assumed he did with all that sexual horseplay and no decided trek into real sanctification, his last novel a quite forgettable No Fun On Sunday.

I met Paul Schrader once in a bar just off campus from the literary conference where he was a featured guest, at the college, Calvin, from which he'd graduated (as did DeVries and Manfred, by the way). I don't remember much about that night, with the exception of the fact that I regretted terribly that my son, who'd attended that conference with me, had decided to hang out somewhere else. He was a Shrader aficionado.

A couple of days ago, the Associated Press titled an article about Paul Schrader with a headline that held, at least for me, no surprises: "Paul Schrader can't shake his Christian faith, even with his late movie, 'Master Gardener." To those of us who know his background, that's an old familiar tune.

Is Master Gardener worth seeing? I don't know. It opens Friday. My guess is that, despite the AP's headline, it won't feature some stirring kumbaya. The plot features a reformed (small r) gardener who has left a horrendous past (a hit man) and is now gardening for a socialite who uses him for other forms of private entertainment. If this is a revival piece, be prepared to get dirty in the process.

It's the bigger story that grabs my attention, even though Shrader is by no means alone. I don't care if Master Gardener doesn't pass your heresy test or mine, it's the trajectory of the larger story that grabs my attention and love; it's the God haunted-ness Schrader seems to suffer. He can't kick Him because He won't quit Schrader--and that's not my judgment alone.

So this morning I'm thankful for Paul Schrader's vain attempt to leave the faith. And more. I'm thankful for grace that is always, always, always bigger and wider than even our most theologically calculated estimations. Grace casts a heckuva wide net, goes after who it will, and is not subject to our human judgments.

I'm thankful this morning for the trajectory of the life of Paul Schrader and, much more, for the constancy of grace, grace we might just call irresistible.