Our Life

It's all a bit fuzzy, but I seem to remember Saturdays as a time my dad would slip in a movie and relax. It seems like they were movies Mom would not particularly enjoy, so dad watched them alone while she did something else and we kids were off playing (I do this exact thing today). On two occasions, I remember walking in and pausing to watch the movies with my dad. Both instances had a profound impact on my life. One thing that stands out is that on both occasions I think Dad was so moved by the film that he was actually crying. That's a hard thing for a kid to understand, when crying only represented sadness or pain. Because of this mystery, I think the movies themselves took on greater mystery and profundity for me. I did not realize fully how much impact they had until more recently in my adult life.

The first was "Man of La Macha." I remember watching the "Impossible Dream" scene. Ever since I've had a fascination with Don Quixote. I bought the soundtrack for the musical in jr. or sr. high (I still have it...on casset). I bought the movie as an adult. I painted a print of Don Quixote for my living room (much like the statue of Don Quixote that sits in Dad's office, which he brought back from Equador I think, which I drew a picture of when I was very young--and still have, thanks to Mom). The concept of the knight errant and striving against impossible odds for the sake of nobility...even to the point that is seems like madness...still stirs my heart to this day. It is, for me, the picture of discipleship. As Brennan Manning said, "(quoting Zorba the Greek)'It takes a touch of folly, you see? You have to risk everything.' In the final analysis, discipleship is a life of sublime madness."

The second film lurked like a ghost in my mind for years. It was a shadow, falling across various events in later life, but the original form was unclear. This shadow came in the form of a song. It was a chorus singing a beautiful, swelling, triumphant and bright song. I heard it in that film on some Saturday morning in the late 80's. I was probably 8-10 years old. Then in jr. high, watching a news program called "Channel One" (where Anderson Cooper got his start), I heard it again. Again, 15 years later, the song popped up on a PBS documentary. Seeing my chance, I checked PBS records and credits hoping to find the name of the tune. After fruitless searching, I checked BBC records, still to no avail. Finally, in desperation, I emailed KERA, our local station, and asked for more information. I figured it was a long shot, and after weeks of no response, I forgot again about the song, and it slipped back into the shadows of my mind.

Yesterday, a representative from KERA responded, forwarding a 15 page document sent to her from the BBC containing all credits, including still clips, video segments, quotes included in narration, and every track used in the documentary. I listened to each song on iTunes until I found..."Vita Nostra." The film, release in 1986, was "The Mission." Ironically, I discovered the song "Gabriel's Oboe" (also from the soundtrack) when I made a mix tape for an oboe player I dated in high school, but I didn't find "Vita Nostra." Now it seems like so many years of searching finally end at a time when I am most able to see and understand their significance. Again, another film of sacrifice and service. Again, the inspiring themes of grace (have you viewed the scene when De Niro's penitent baggage of armor is cut away by the natives?), devotion, living on the fringe and giving all, even unto death.

I am glad I shared those brief moments with my dad on a forgotten Saturday long ago. Even more, I'm glad that those moments only reinforced the heart of my father...and our Father.
They are our passions.
They are from our God.
They are the dream that inspires our life.
Vita Nostra.