Prolegomenon
Consider this post a bit of a follow-up to the previous post on the extremism of truth (found here). This is not a direct continuation of that previous post, but this does share a key fundamental stream of thought which warrants noting. And, like any sequel, there is an inherent risk involved in including a second act, so we will hope that this inclusion more closely resembles the triumph of Empire Strikes Back then, well, that of nearly any other sequel ever made. Ok, The Two Towers was outstanding as well (and quite possibly better than its predecessor), but that's still a relatively short list.
Let us consider, for a moment, Sebastian and the boiling pot of water. However, I would like to preface this consideration by lodging the unstudied and unqualified opinion that the movie of referent, The Little Mermaid, is an undeniably substandard film by any objective standard. Though this opinion certainly lacks any technical expertise, it certainly does not lack a modicum of experiential expertise, being levied after having viewed this movie in a variety of contexts and settings over many years. There are several reasons why this movie unceremoniously ranks within the ever-growing lists of patently deficient movies, not the least of which is that it promotes a moral tone which I find generally dissatisfactory. The protagonist of the film is selfish, rebellious, and gullible – and seems to be lauded and idealized in spite of (or even directly on account of) these traits. Nonetheless, there are bright colors and an engaging soundtrack, which is really all that matters for most of us with such films. There may be a larger parallel to the entertainment expectations of our culture at work in that contention, but that would surely be a digression from our central theme.
Within this aforementioned and palpably deficient story is the character of Sebastian the lobster, who is one of the lone voices of reason in the film. ‘Voice of reason’ may be a bit generous, but his is certainly a voice of caution, or at the very least one of generalized pessimism. His caution seems to typically rise from a general desire for self-preservation, however, and not from any inane sense of moral or spiritual obligation, but we might forgive him for this since he is apparently painted from watercolors and is a talking crustacean, and one's expectations must be accordingly tempered. One can, after all, only expect so much from a talking lobster (again, see previous post).
What the Lobster Knew
I forgive Sebastian for not having a developed sense of moral responsibility in the same way as I forgive the shingles on my roof for remaining emotionally indifferent when they begin to leak after a storm. It simply does not make much sense to invest too much emotionally in these things, after all. What I do find interesting from Sebastian’s tale, however, is what Sebastian did know. Sebastian, for all his imperfections and flaws, for all his insecurities and misgivings, for all the natural limitations that accompany the ordinary life of a [cartoon] lobster, recognized that the pot of boiling water in the kitchen was hot.
If you have not seen the movie in some time, you might consider your time well spent and certainly disuade yourself from any temptation toward subsequent analysis for this article’s sake. Suffice it to say, there is an angry chef, a boiling pot of water, and a lobster on a chopping block – you get the gist. With all the theatrical flair that only a late-1980s Disney musical fantasy could muster, Sebastian violently resists being thrown into the pot with his every last increasingly-spirited effort. Dodging the boiling water, hiding from the grasping, relentless hands of the chef and vicious chops of the knife, Sebastian stays away from the pot of water until such time (spoiler alert) as he can make good on his escape from the kitchen.
What did Sebastian recognize? He recognized that he was a lobster, and that there was death in that pot. This is a basic recognition. Beyond that, Sebastian recognized that he had previously been free – he had lived in the ocean in freedom, and he desired to return there. He recognized that the boiling pot brought death, and he did not want to die. He understood that the chef wanted to kill him, and he therefore did not submit to the chef, nor did he trust the chef but he actively resisted the chef. Sebastian was not changing his behavior or character based upon new information; he was simply a reckoning with the truth of the situation as it presented itself. Sebastian had not been awakened to a new way of thinking, nor had his eyes been opened to new realities or social structures that operated beneath the surface which now explained reality in a new light – if anything, the reverse was true. Sebastian simply knew what led to death and therefore he refused to submit to it.
Standing Firm Like a Scalded Lobster
When confronted with a looming threat, it may be a temptation to placate it, or moderate it, or even to ignore it altogether, yet this rarely seems to keep the water from cooking the lobster. There are countless examples we may think of which confront the church that center around the theme of truth – specifically, God’s divine right to dictate and define truth regardless of man’s efforts to define that truth beyond our purview. For the Christian, this can become quite tricky indeed, as we may see truth as something that is offensive to the world around us, and therefore as something that we ought to be quite reticent to hold. What I would suggest is that truth is the air we breathe – it is life to us, and to neglect truth is to cast ourselves headlong into the boiling pot. In other words, truth is something that we absolutely must hold onto – it is something which we cannot abandon at any cost.
“If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. […] So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”
–– John 8:31b-32,36
Not only is truth a gift of God, but it is also a gift of God's freedom. Children of God are set free through the truth. So, to abandon the truth is to surrender ourselves once again to bondage. Truth is held in freedom; truth is abandoned in bondage. To return to the earlier analogy, Sebastian resisted the boiling pot precisely because he was presently free and alive – both death and bondage lay beneath the crest of the boiling water. For the Christian, it is for this freedom that we are called to stand in truth.
“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”
–– Galatians 5:1
Christians are called, commanded in fact, to stand firm (στήκετε). This is because the Christian is free, yet is free in Christ. We are not masters unto ourselves; we are servants of the most high King (Rom 6:22; Luke 9:23). We must refuse to bow to the bondage and death that others would have us submit to precisely because we are made free in Christ. To put in in the words of John Calvin, “No true Christian is his own man.” The Christian stands in freedom, unable to submit to his former bondage, because he is no longer his own man.
Might we then recognize that as we seek the truth, there are likewise many un-truths in this world. There have, in fact, been many untruths in this world since a serpent first began whispering (Gen 3), whispered lies which brought death quickly on their heels. This is not the telos of the story for the Christian, however. Our story is one of freedom, having been set free from the serpent and the sin that enslaves (Gen 3:15). The Christian follows Christ, who has stated that He is the truth and the life (John 14:6). May Christians recognize that as untruth becomes more prevalent and lies become louder, the Christian and the church must learn to become even louder still.
SDG,
Josh Howard
Josh Howard serves as the Elder/Pastor at Grace Community Church in Battle Creek, MI, co-hosts the Good Doctrine Podcast, and is an alumni of Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary (PhD, ThM).
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