The Gospel According to Finding Nemo

The Gospel According to Finding Nemo
Highlands & Montclair UMCs, Denver, CO
Sunday, October 26, 2008

Isaiah 43:1-2

The world is full of many joys and wonders,
as well as many dangers, toils and snares.
When you’re a little fish in a big ocean,
it’s sometimes hard to know which is which.

Marlin is a clownfish, orange and white stripes,
living with his wife Coral in a beautiful anemone home
right on the edge of the reef,
where the sand below drops off to deep water.
They are the proud expectant parents of 400 little clownfish,
incubating in their jelly-like eggs,
when tragedy strikes:
a barracuda attacks.
Marlin tries to protect his family
and is knocked unconscious.
He wakes to find that his wife
and all but one of the eggs
are gone.
Devastated, Marlin promises little Nemo,
as the remaining egg is named,
never to let anything happen to him.

Nemo turns out to be a spirited young clownfish
with one undersized fin
who is eager to explore the world
and excited to start school.
His father has grown extremely cautious
and overprotective of his only son,
worried about all the things that can go wrong,
especially because of what he sees
as Nemo’s disability, the “lucky” fin.
The joy that Marlin once felt in his home and family
becomes clouded by his fear
that he could lose it all
again.
And when Marlin follows Nemo’s class
on their field trip to the drop-off,
warning and scolding Nemo not to swim in open water,
Nemo’s frustration turns into defiance
and he swims out to touch a small boat anchored nearby.
Before he can return to the safety of the reef,
two divers appear,
and one scoops up Nemo in a little plastic bag,
the other blinding Marlin with a camera flash
and preventing him from getting to Nemo in time.
The boat speeds away
and Marlin’s worst nightmare has come true.

Marlin then begins a long and difficult journey
to find Nemo and bring him home,
accompanied and helped along the way
by a blue fish – a regal tang – named Dory,
very sweet by nature
but troubled by persistent short-term memory loss.
Nemo ends up in a small fish tank in a dentist’s office,
where the other inhabitants of the tank
help him try to escape
before he becomes the next casualty
of the dentist’s niece
and her enjoyment of shaking bags of goldfish.
In particular, a Moorish Idol fish named Gill,
the only other tank member
to come from the ocean
rather than a pet store,
takes Nemo under his fin.

Along the way, Marlin and Dory encounter many surprising creatures:
There is a group of 3 sharks
who are trying to rise above their nature,
and reform their fish-eating ways -
their motto is "Fish are friends, not food."
They barely avoid becoming lunch for an anglerfish,
which has a kind of built-in glowing lure
attached to its body.
They meet a school of silvery fish that do visual impressions
in their group formations.
They have a narrow escape
from beautiful but deadly box jellyfish.
A school of sea turtles helps them navigate the East Australian Current,
and offers Marlin a different perspective on parenting
than he has been used to —
a little less neurotic worrywart,
a little more laid-back surfer dude.
A whale swallows them up
to bring them in close to Sydney Harbor.
And a pelican named Nigel takes them the final distance
to the dentist’s office where Nemo is waiting.

Along the way, both father and son
learn to better understand each other,
and to overcome their own fears
to embrace life more fully.
Dory and Crush the sea turtle
teach Marlin that he cannot keep Nemo
from experiencing life.
That if he never lets anything happen to his son,
nothing will ever happen to him.
And although sometimes there’s no way of knowing
whether or not something bad might happen,
the only way to get through life
is to “Let go,” and “Just keep swimming!”
And Gill helps Nemo gain confidence in himself,
as his own damaged fin has never stopped him
from going after his goals.

In some ways, Finding Nemo blends together
the three “Lost” parables of Jesus in the Gospel of Luke:
like the shepherd seeking the sheep,
Marlin goes in search of his lost son,
leaving behind the safety of the world he knows,
putting at risk what is left to him.
As in the story of the Prodigal Son,
Nemo is separated from his family
by a decision made out of youthful defiance
that comes to regret
and seeks to return home.
And if we want to stretch a little,
Dory is kind of like the woman with the coins…
only it’s more like her marbles that she’s lost…
but there is definitely great rejoicing when she finds them!

It’s not an exact parallel, of course;
the film is a full-fledged story, not a parable.
I think the main difference is
that Marlin is not a stand-in for God
as the shepherd and the father are
in the parables that Jesus told.
Marlin is himself a “person” in need of saving.
He needs to be saved not from the dangers of the world,
but from his fear of danger,
so that he can lay claim to the abundant life
available to him.
Marlin is so obsessed with past tragedy
and fear of the future
that he is robbed of the one thing he needs,
which is to be in the moment with his son.
Dory, who knows nothing beyond the present moment,
is the one who helps him get back that gift.

Nemo needs to find faith in his own abilities
and an understanding of his father’s concerns.
He learns to respect his father’s worries and limits
because he himself comes face to face with real danger.

And Dory, whom the film’s director and writer describe
as an “angel” by nature,
always seeking to comfort and help others,
becomes an important part of the family,
finding that Marlin’s care for her and trust in her
helps her to remember things better,
helps her not to get lost or forget,
and allows her to feel that she is home.

If you are a parent,
and have had the experience of caring for a young child
I imagine Marlin’s situation hits home:
the fear of losing your child
is a real and powerful threat.
You want to protect them, keep them safe
as long and as fully as possible.
But the time comes
when you have to let the little one
venture out into the world on their own,
give them a chance, as Crush the surfer sea turtle says,
to see what they’ll do “flying solo.”

Some of us might identify more with Nemo:
longing for adventure,
unsure of our own capabilities
or our place in the world,
but certain that there are wonderful and exciting places to see
and people to meet out there.

Others, like Dory,
are longing for a place to belong,
a relationship that grounds us
and helps us make sense of our story.
The world can be a big and scary place.
The church has often focused on this view,
emphasizing the “dangers, toils and snares” of life:

The world is seen as a place of temptation,
posing all kinds of risks to the life of faith.
This is the Marlin school of theology –
monsters lurk around every corner,
so venture out only when necessary,
and then do so with extreme vigilance.
The Nemo school of theology, on the other hand,
holds that the world is the gift of God,
to be explored, dealt with, delighted in,
and within which we learn who we are
and who God is in the scheme of things.
Both schools of theology live side by side in the church
and are often a source of tension.*

Ultimately, the film, along with our scriptures for today,
come out on the side of affirming life
with all its risks and dangers
as something beautiful and holy,
a gift from God.
We are called to boldness in pursuing an abundant life
not because our fears are groundless
and not to become reckless with our lives
but so that we don’t forfeit our lives
by refusing to live them;
because there’s no other way
to experience the fullness of life that God offers.

Finding Nemo is a Disney movie,
so of course it has a happy ending.
We long for that happy ending in our own lives,
the moment when everything comes together and makes sense,
when we know we don't have to worry any more.
Our faith teaches us we can have that happy ending,
but not necessarily in this life.

In this life, God doesn’t promise
to always set things right.
But God promises to work for good in all circumstances.
God does not promise that we will not know suffering,
whether in the form of pain, of fear, of separation, or of grief;
But God does promise that suffering is not the final word,
that it is but one stage of the journey toward redemption.
And God promises to journey with us,
whether we pass through water or fire,
God has redeemed us and claimed us as God’s own.
God is the brave shepherd
and the careful woman
and the loving father
who seeks us out for relationship,
giving us the freedom to decide how we will live,
rejoicing with us when we choose life abundant in God’s care.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.


*from Movies that Matter, by Richard Leonard, p. 127.

The Gospel According to Pleasantville

Once upon a time
there was a boy and a girl
who found themselves in a strange new world.
They were brother and sister, twins,
children of the 80s, teens in the 90s,
faced with bad news at every turn:
divorced parents
continual decline in available jobs after graduation,
ozone depletion and the HIV epidemic.
Jennifer found her sense of identity
in being one of the “bad girls,”
smoking and sleeping around,
while David took refuge in watching endless reruns
of a black-and-white 1950s sitcom
called Pleasantville.

Pleasantville depicted a world so much more… pleasant
than reality:
It was neater, cleaner, more polite and more predictable,
where mother starts each day
by preparing a big hot breakfast for her children and husband:
mountains of pancakes and waffles,
eggs and bacon and ham,
and each night father comes back from work
and announces, “Honey, I’m home!”

Through a strange turn of events,
David and Jennifer find themselves suddenly transported
inside the world of Pleasantville: they become Bud and Mary Sue,
straight-laced 50’s teenagers,
as monochromatic as everything around them.

David, with his encyclopedic knowledge of the show,
finds it easy to interact with others
in the role of Bud, the boy next door,
and does all he can to encourage Jennifer –
now Mary Sue –
to stick to the original script.

But where Bud sees innocence to be preserved,
pleasantness to be protected,
Mary Sue sees potential for people to escape their geekiness
and become “attractive” and “cool.”
And in spite of Bud’s warnings and pleas
to just “go with the program,”
Mary Sue goes out with Skip,
the captain of the basketball team,
and on their first date, she takes him to Lover’s Lane
where they do a lot more than just hold hands!
On his way home from this novel experience,
Skip sees the strangest thing:
a single red rose,
brilliantly scarlet
in the midst of the grey rosebush.

It doesn’t take long before Skip tells all the boys about his experience
and Mary Sue shares her knowledge and attitude with the girls,
and little by little, starting with bubblegum and taillights,
spots of color start to appear in Pleasantville.
The color is seen as an aberration, a freak occurrence,
and one young woman whose tongue has turned pink
is told kindly by her doctor,
“It’s probably nothing to worry about.
Just cut back on greasy foods and chocolate.”

With the excitement of the color
come some unexpected consequences.
The boys’ basketball team,
the undefeated Pleasantville Lions,
formerly could not fail to shoot the ball
directly into the basket every time.
Now they all miss.

Bill Johnson, the “soda jerk,” –
the guy who works at the soda shop –
discovers that he does not have to do every task
in exactly the same order every time
and starts thinking about how meaningless it is
to make hamburgers all the time
and how much he enjoys painting a mural
on the windows at Christmas.
Mary Sue had discovered early on
that the reason the firemen in Pleasantville
are always rescuing cats
is that nothing there will burn.
Yet one night,
after Mary Sue explains to her Pleasantville mother
all about Lover’s Lane and sex,
the tree outside their home
bursts into Technicolor flame.
Bud is the one who gets the firemen to come –
finally figuring out
that although they don’t respond to “Fire!”,
they get going in a hurry when he yells “Cat!”
and Bud is the one who has to show them
how to use the hoses to put out the fire.
The town experiences rain –
real rain –
for the first time.

The more time David and Jennifer remain in Pleasantville
as Bud and Mary Sue,
little by little revealing more of what they know
of the possibilities of life beyond Pleasantville’s script,
the more choices people have,
the more color appears,
in people and in the world around them,
and the more the men of the town are greatly concerned
by the changes occurring around them.

Pleasantville is, in part, an intentional parable
for Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden.
It’s not an exact parallel,
and there are other layers of meaning
that enrich and deepen the symbolism of the film.
But David/Bud is, perhaps like Adam,
satisfied with the status quo:
content to keep the pristine world within its narrow limits,
trying not to upset the apple cart,
accepting of the order of things
as the way they’re supposed to be.
Jennifer in the place of Mary Sue
is the stereotypical Eve:
although the story in Genesis does not identify sex
as part of the “original sin,”
that is what most people think of
when they think of sin, Eve, and Eden.
And sex is what Jennifer brings to Pleasantville,
to the delight of the boys and girls at school,
and the consternation of their parents.
The imagery of the forbidden fruit –
in our culture assumed to be an apple –
shows up at the lake at the end of Lover’s Lane,
where Margaret picks a bright red apple
and gives it to David.
The image comes up again
in the mural that David/Bud and Mr Johnson paint
on the wall of the police station later on.

There’s no real “snake” in this story,
no external trickster
convincing the unsuspecting innocents to choose disobedience.
Just David and Jennifer,
who drop into this world of monochrome pleasantness,
the only ones who know there is any alternative,
the only ones with the ability to choose something different.
And the choices they make
set in motion a chain of events
and opportunities for others to make choices
that turns the whole world of Pleasantville upside down.

The movie has a largely positive view
regarding the freedom to make choices.
The story acknowledges that the openness
the teenagers bring to Pleasantville
includes the possibility for anger, violence, and fear
as well as love, learning, and passion.
And there are many who are threatened by the changes.
They react first by violence:
breaking the windows of the soda shop
where Bill Johnson has painted a mural of a naked woman;
vandalizing the colored booths and gumball machines;
and burning the books that are no longer blank,
but filled with stories of love and learning and freedom.
And when things settle down,
the powers that be respond by trying to control the town,
laying down a code of conduct
that includes closing the library,
limiting the music that may be played,
prohibitions on the sale of umbrellas
or other preparation for inclement weather,
mattresses of greater than 38” wide,
and paint in colors other than black, white, or grey;
and a “non-changist” school curriculum
that emphasizes continuity over alteration.

Yet ultimately the changes cannot be stopped or controlled
and Bud makes an impassioned case for the positive value
of recognizing the capacity for all kinds of feelings and choices
that exists in each person.
It turns out that sex isn’t the only, or even the primary, reason
that most of the people change to color.
For Jennifer, who in her own words, has “had more sex than anyone,”
the change comes when she sends her boyfriend away,
turning aside from her former sense of identity through sex,
and stays in her room, wearing her glasses, reading.
For David, the defining moment is when he stands up for his mother
who is being harassed by a group of teenage boys,
and it is his punch that both brings violence to Pleasantville
and brings out his own willingness to engage with the world
and to take risks for others.

The choice to turn aside from the obvious path
and the very ability to make a choice freely
comes with a variety of complex and interconnected consequences.
But what is the alternative?

There are many other creation stories in the world,
some ancient, some recent.
Some scholars have explored ancient texts
and developed new interpretations of these old, old stories.
One version of the story of Adam and Eve in the garden
describes the tree from which they eat as the Tree of Life,
and their transgression is in eating the fruit before it is ripe.
As a consequence,
they are confused at the sense of separation they feel
from the animals, plants, and the rest of creation.
But God assures them that although the fruit was not ripe,
the seeds of learning and caring will grow inside them
as they travel the path of wonder, the path of emptiness,
the path of making, and the path of coming home.

At its heart, the story of Eve and Adam
is an attempt to answer the questions of
why we suffer, why we die,
why life is not as good as we think it could or should be,
why we do not feel as close to God as we long to be,
why we humans interact with the world, with God, and with each other
in a way that seems so different from all the other animals.

The story tries to answer these questions
by saying that Once Upon a Time,
things were the way we imagine they could and should be.
Once Upon a Time,
life was perfect. Flawless. Pleasant.
And people did what they weren’t supposed to do
and that’s why life isn’t so great now.

There’s a lot of shame and guilt put on the choice of freedom
over blind obedience
but what kind of life would we have,
what kind of world would we have
if we never knew we had another option?
The story of Adam and Eve in the garden,
like the story of Jennifer and David in Pleasantville,
is a story of moving from a very limited awareness
of the options available in one’s life
to a recognition of the broad and abundant scope
of what life in all its fullness
might mean.
We might not agree with the choices people make,
but how could we choose good
if we were not free to make a different choice?
Redemption in Pleasantville
isn't primarily about being forgiven for one’s sins,
but instead is about the opening up of one’s life
to the possibility of wholeness:
pleasant is all well and good,
in fact, it is very pleasant… up to a point.
But there is so much more than pleasant
in the life abundant that God offers us in Christ.
There is room for silly, and sexy, and curious.
There is room for anger, and passion, and grief.
There is room for God in every part of our lives.
Nothing is too small, too big, too shameful, or too private
to bring before God.
We get to choose how we will live:
no script, no set plot or secret plan for our lives
that we will be punished for not figuring out
and following to the letter.
It can feel like a curse at times,
the freedom
the not knowing how things will turn out.
We have the option of turning toward God
or turning away.
Sometimes we don’t know which way a path will lead
until we have followed it a little while.
But the good news is that God is always available to us,
always walking with us along the road out of Eden,
always willing to help open our eyes
when we are ready
to see the Technicolor world that surrounds us
and the colors that sprout and bloom like seeds
within our hearts.
Amen.


[Preached at The Open House at Montclair UMC, October 12, 2008]