Philomena

I knew very little of this film other than knowing it was showing in English, seeing good ratings, and watching the trailer. That was a good way to go into it; the less you know the better.

"Do you believe in God, Martin?" 
Not your typical ice-breaker, but not a bad place to start, no?
"I've always thought that was a difficult question to give a simple answer to. Do you?"
"Yes."

But I was quickly bracing myself for an agenda-pushing film where the Christians are the bad guys and the "progressive liberals" -- for lack of a better word and to avoid some possible spoiling -- are the good guys. This was thankfully escaped thanks to the genuine and heartfelt contrast between Philomena and Martin where, in the end, neither one is completely right or wrong, and the answer is found in the tension-filled both. They learn from one another, need one another.

What we see is that, if you've got an anger that is justified and righteous, there's no way to escape hate except to forgive, and there's no way to forgive without a simple faith in a God that forgives. Forgiveness, of course, sounds easy and feels free; those who really know it know that it is anything but.

And as for adoption. I as much as anyone am thankful for the attention adoption seems to be getting in Christian circles; we seem to be hearing more stories, seeing more videos, reading more articles, witnessing more families, and this is good. I am inclined to believe nothing else strikes more true to the very heart of the Gospel than adoption. But as Philomena's story serves to show us, in our rightful eagerness to adopt, and in the temptation to make our story Facebook-worthy, let us also be sober-minded. Let us be eager to unconditionally accept and love a child, but not too eager to be the admirable heroes saving a child from supposed squalor and neglect. Because first of all, that might not exactly be the case. And second of all, regardless of circumstances, where there is a biological mother left behind on the other side, most often she will continue to think of this child day after day, perhaps even secretly for fifty years. Her thoughts for him and the act of daily letting him go are a profound expression of love in their own right.

"What was his handshake like?"