Echoes of Reconciliation [Heaven Breaking In Part 2] by Brewer Eberly

Brewer Eberly is a frequent contributor to Practical Theology and a first year medical school student. He frequently enjoys rock-climbing and listening to Anberlin, probably at the same time.     

“I will remember the deeds of the Lord;

Yes, I will remember your wonders of old.”

Psalm 77:11, ESV

One of the reasons I love Christopher Nolan is his use of flashback and flashforward, a kind of brilliantly fractured mise-en-scène. Though one of the more vague concepts in performance art, mise-en-scène can be crudely defined as ‘how a dramatic text and performance work together in space and time.’ Momento, The Prestige, Inception, and The Dark Knight Rises contain great examples, particularly Memento. As we reach the climax of the movie or a turn in the plot, Nolan teases us with a split second repeat of past scenes woven together to reveal a more complete tapestry of the story – of a character’s history, motive, or future. We have seen the images before, but now they, and the story itself, have a fresh meaning. The echoes give more potency. The complete narrative is laid out for us. We now have the truth. (Let’s just say that I have never been more excited for wormholes, astrophysics, or time jumping, all rumored in Nolan’s upcoming, Kip Thorne-inspired film, Interstellar.)

I preface all this to say that I’ve found the story of Christ’s work in my life more comforting and true and wonderful as I reflect on and remember particular moments of my past – flashbacks of Christ’s restorative process in my heart and life – echoes of reconciliation.

This experience of reflection is often like watching a Nolan-esque movie chapter in my mind, with scenes one after the other, quickly flashing through memory and time to give more meaning and clarity to the overall narrative of my life. What do these “movie chapters” entail? Well we see the main characters of course. We see mistakes, brokenness, and conflict. And finally we see the hero; we get teased with glimpses of triumph and flashes of the final victory – the conflict resolved. But where I’m usually watching images of Nolan’s Batman, here I am beholding images of Christ. I see the characters of my life – friends and family. I see where I have been a villain and a victim. And I see the hero of sorrow resolving conflicts and reconciling relationships on the cross. I see a flash of the final victory when this Hero King returns with a wedding feast.

Sheldon Vanauken, author of the celebrated memoir, A Severe Mercy, describes a similar experience in the context of processing the loss of his wife, Davy:

“Now I was discovering it anew in Davy, going through the years: I was touching her soul, the very essence of her being. I described earlier how all the Davys began to flow back to me shortly after her death, and I recovered the wholeness of her. Now with the Illumination of the Past the process was completed. It is sometimes said that the fourth dimension is time or duration: one does not see a person or thing in any one instant of seeing. And I was seeing Davy in all her years – I even had her baby and childhood pictures and scribblings. As nearly as a lover can do, I was seeing the whole of her – a wholeness I would never lose – and knowing her soul. …

Immediately after Davy’s death I had experienced the amazing phenomenon, made complete by the Illumination of the Past, of the flowing back to me of all the Davys of all the years, the whole Davy, the eternal Davy, even as we hold all the David Copperfields when we have closed the book.”

As Davy becomes more whole in Vanauken’s mind as he “illuminates the past” holistically, so does the feeling of Christ’s restoration and work in our lives become more felt and whole and loved as we illuminate past moments of reconciliation – echoes resonating with the fresh harmony of all things being made new. To Sheldon, the resulting song was one of learning how to grieve, resting in God, and experiencing the wholeness of Davy. For the Christian, the song sounds like experiencing the wholeness of being made whole. It sounds like reconciliation. Indeed, ‘to reconcile’ means ‘to restore to unity, friendship, or harmony.’

If you’re like me, then you need restoration to harmony. If you’re like me, you need to sing the words and echoes of Hosea 2 and Isaiah 30, to be made to ‘lie down in the safety’ of ‘returning and rest.’ We all need to be reminded of remembering how Jesus has and is restoring us. Consider the great mise-en-scène of Hebrews 11 or the divine calls to remember in Deuteronomy and Ephesians 2. The Psalms are peppered with “remember.” Scripture is painted with echoes.

When struggles and temptation come, few things strengthen me more than singing and forming a mise-en-scène of this restorative work in my mind. The clanging promises of sin are drowned out by the high echoes of Calvary. The hollow images of iniquity break under the weight of greater scenes. I suspect we would all do well to remember our lives through this lens of restorative eternity, for introspection in light of reconciliation is more than remembering, it is remembering sung through gold.

Remembering is a lost art, and we need to practice it with Jesus as our guide. Like Nolan editing together several scenes to help us understand Batman’s story a little more, Jesus will piece together several scenes to help us understand our stories a little more. He is writing a new song with the echoes of our reconciliation. He is forming a mise-en-scène to remember. Jesus is the ultimate Illuminator of the Past.

And so I invite you, friend in Christ, when pain and sadness and weariness come, to remember your remembering – to construct your own mise-en-scène of your life that rings with the sounds of restoration. Remember friends, the hymn of the Great Reconciliation was sung long ago. The echoes in our lives are high and soft and unbearably sweet. Are we listening?

“I cry aloud to God,

aloud to God, and he will hear me.

In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;

in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;

my soul refuses to be comforted.

When I remember God, I moan;

when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah

You hold my eyelids open;

I am so troubled that I cannot speak.

I consider the days of old,

the years long ago.

I said, “Let me remember my song in the night;

let me meditate in my heart.”

Then my spirit made a diligent search:

“Will the Lord spurn forever,

and never again be favorable?

Has his steadfast love forever ceased?

Are his promises at an end for all time?

Has God forgotten to be gracious?

Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah

Then I said, “I will appeal to this,

to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”

I will remember the deeds of the Lord;

yes, I will remember your wonders of old.

I will ponder all your work,

and meditate on your mighty deeds.

Your way, O God, is holy.

What god is great like our God?

You are the God who works wonders;

you have made known your might among the peoples.

You with your arm redeemed your people,

the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah

When the waters saw you, O God,

when the waters saw you, they were afraid;

indeed, the deep trembled.

The clouds poured out water;

the skies gave forth thunder;

your arrows flashed on every side.

The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind;

your lightnings lighted up the world;

the earth trembled and shook.

Your way was through the sea,

your path through the great waters;

yet your footprints were unseen.

You led your people like a flock

by the hand of Moses and Aaron.”

– Psalm 77, ESV

*References: Sheldon Vanauken’s A Severe Mercy, Christopher Nolan, and Patrice Pavis’ essay “From Text to Performance.” A special thanks to Thomas Sieberhagen, BA in theater from North Greenville University and first year student at Southwestern Theological Seminary for a helpful explanation and discussion of mise-en-scène. I am indebted to Brian Mesimer, BA in Philosophy from USC and first year counseling student, and Ryan Bowen, BS in Computer Information Systems from USC and User Interaction Designer at The Vanguard Group, both for their thoughtful critiques and for the privilege of writing alongside of them. Indeed, a chord of three artists sounds sweeter than a single note.