Gungor "God Is Not a White Man"

A Call to Act (American Sniper Review)

Today my friends and I saw American Sniper (Based on the real life story of Chris Kyle, played by Bradley Cooper). I was very excited to see a movie that would enhance my understanding of American soldiers. So excited, in fact, that I forgot the part about how it was rated R.

It was really awkward for me because hey, I'm Christian and every swear word and shot of a shirtless guy in a bar made me feel really awkward (not to mention one of my best gal friends was sitting next to me and feeling awkward for my guy friend sitting next to her. It was a bit of a mess, ha.) And the double entendres that sprinkled every other scene of dialogue also enhanced the awkwardness. It's not that I felt responsible for my friends seeing the inappropriate stuff, even though it was my idea to see it, I just felt like I was watching something I shouldn't have been and it didn't sit well with my spirit. 

But the main thing that plagued me was the vivid representation of the evil and suffering happening in Iraq.
I watched as the American Sniper was forced to shoot a child who's only crime was holding a bomb given to him by his mother. I watched him shoot the mother as she rushed out to mourn for her child. The friend beside the sniper laughed gleefully when the bomb she'd been carrying detonated and totally destroyed her. How sick can someone be? I was proud when the sniper told his friend in not-gentle terms to be quiet.

Plagued by guilt and unable to disconnect himself from what he has seen in battle, the sniper  says,"That was an evil I've never seen before. It's not how I envisioned the first one to go down." It was sick how he shot them dead with one shot. He saved his American people, and I was so thankful. But war is horrible.The sniper's job was to watch every citizen with hawk eyes, and shoot them dead if they acted suspicious. So, he'd watch the citizens and shoot them each dead.And every time he shot one, his heart stopped with a second. The guilt in his soul was palpable to the audience. He couldn't separate himself from the pain unless he was drinking.

"You're not talking you're acting like you're okay," his wife notes, concern etched in her face.

"We are all on our cell phones living ours lives and no one cares?" is his only reply. 

Whoever says movies don't affect you is lying. Humans have and forever will be affected by what they are watching, seeing and hearing. It's who we are. It's the real reason we fight, to protect our loved ones. We fight for love, not money or power. We fight because we think we deserve something "more" for our loved ones, or that we deserve to protect them. We fight for love, not hate.

I swear didn't take one full breath for two hours. 

I tensed up so much I was shaking. "Calm down, it's just a movie," you're probably thinking. But it's not just a movie. It's reality. I cannot forget what I saw. I watched a terrorist group drill holes into a child's head, then shoot the father as he came running to help.The women screamed and cried and couldn't do anything 

I saw the fierce passion and injustice blaze in the Chris Kyle's  eyes and understood 

This is they fight."There is evil here. You have seen it. You want these men to come to San Diego? It's more than dirt that we are protecting." It was people.

The whole reason was people.

People.

People.

Not money.

People. Why?

Because God made them.

We have intrinsic worth 

Our world is evil 

Our "time" isn't even ours. And it's coming to a close. 

What else is their to life but to make sure that everyone has a chance to hear about Jesus?

It's a struggle. Jesus never said that seeing with His eyes would be easy. 

"You're my brother. They are going to pay for what they did to you." Kyle vows to his fellow fallen soldier.

The cycle of evil and revenge was warring inside him, but he insisted he was a Christian. The strongest of us struggle with it. 

I watched as he had to play God. He killed another terrorist at one point, and the little boy that had been sitting by the man curiously picked it up the gun and struggled to aim it at the American soldiers.

"Put it down!" the sniper pleaded through clenched teeth from his rooftop position, finger poised on the trigger. 

Finally, the child did. The sniper let out a broken sigh and was human again. 

"The thing that haunts me is how many I couldn't save..." The sniper laments at the end of the film. Sound like Jesus a little bit? He is a Christ figure, for sure. 

His psychologist invited him to see the veterans. It was the only way he could heal, through love.

Only love could fix it.He helped them shoot again in the woods 

"Who's the legend now?" one of them joked.

"That's a title you don't want, trust me." No one should have to play God. Ever.

Main point of the movie came when he finally rose up and talked to his son long enough to teach him how to shoot. 

"Be calm...

Confident...

And you never hesitate 

To protect your own.

You are who I fight for."
Jesus is who I fight for. I fight for love.

Thank you for taking time to read this. But I'm not here to talk about "cinematic masterpieces." The all-too-real evil in this film makes me sick and numb. But we cannot hide from the evil. What we can do is pray against it. I'm here to call you to action.

So what will you do? 

Will you cower when the shot goes off, or will you rise up and pray? 

What Happens When I'm Expected to be Sappy...

As I am sure you're well aware (special thanks to social media and our culture) Valentines Day is on Saturday! A wonderful time to appreciate your "significant other" and/or become blatantly aware that you do not have one. Yeah, it's never been one of my favorite holidays...

In my AP English class, we are required to give each other Valentine's (our teacher believes firmly in the giving and receiving of Valentine's cards. We all secretly do, too.) At first I took it very seriously and told myself to go out and buy some decent looking cards for my classmates. After all, this was the last time I'd get this chance, being a senior and all. Then I remembered, being a senior and all, I really didn't care that much. So, I went to the Dollar Tree (the boys in my government class heartily believe that it is "the best store ever"  very "clutch", and though I don't know what "clutch" is supposed to mean, I agree with them) and bought a hot pink poster board. I then pondered what to write...
I thought about writing what I thought about them, keeping it strictly honest, positive and uplifting for the season. But then I remembered that there are boys in my class, and though they all look perfectly mature, I confess I am a daily witness to their, well, er, immaturity. So, that idea was gone.
Then I remembered that there is a passive aggressive version of everything in the world. An avid appreciator of humor (my mom's a comedian, after all) and sarcasm (that comes from myself), I resolved to look some up. I was delighted by what I found. Click on this link to take a look!

http://www.buzzfeed.com/joannaborns/passive-aggressive-valentines#.twzBq7b2Wo

My dear classmates of AP English, prepare to get one of these tomorrow!
Much love, Christine

Free Indeed

     When we give in to temptation, we open the door of our heart and mind to darkness. The devil has been practicing for thousands of years and knows what temptations to bring us. When he comes, it’s not about whether or not Jesus can ward the temptation off, it’s about if we let him. Jesus always whispers “Call my name. Let me rescue you,” but the temptation grows louder and insistent and we slowly push him away and stop listening. “Yes, I know you can help…but…I want to experience this pleasure more than I want to walk in obedience.”


     We let ourselves go without Jesus for so long it’s ridiculous. One night, I was standing in the shower and I moved away from the warm water to pick up a fallen shampoo bottle. I quickly grew cold but adapted to it. When I went back under the water, the sudden heat felt wonderful. It was there the entire time. Jesus is there, with exactly what we need; ready to give us life if we just “draw near.”


     After years of playing tug of war with Jesus, I had come to a place where I was so isolated in sin that I wasn’t even sure if I was a worthy of calling myself a Christian. I had no idea what to do about the guilt that was plaguing my soul and I was too ashamed of the things I’d done to tell anyone. But Jesus had a perfect plan for me.


     When I was 16, I went on a mission’s trip to New York City. I went thinking I would be helping Jesus’ kingdom, but instead, he helped me. Jesus healed my heart and freed me from the guilt and shame I had been carrying.


     One late night on the trip, I admitted to my youth leaders Becca and Annie that I still struggled with the guilt and shame of my past sin. Becca told me something that I’ll never forget.


     “Stop thinking about it. It’s gone. It’s gone. As far as the east from the west. You are new. Christ still sees you as pure and beautiful, like you are. His grace is sufficient. Do not beat yourself up. It’s gone.” She spoke the truth. I was free.


     Overwhelmed, I retreated to the bathroom. In my mind, I saw Jesus on the ground, bruised and bloodied. Guards swarmed around him, beating him, their angry voices mixing with the vicious accusations of the crowd to create a cacophony of hatred. I deserved what they were screaming. But he took it. Jesus took it for me. He knew I would be born and how I would sin. The marks he bore were caused by sin I would one day commit. And he did it willingly.


     I fell to the ground. I heard my name called in a gentle, firm way, the voice peaceful and kind. A man’s feet appeared in the room with me. He wore white robes and shone like the sun. He stood near me and spoke my name. “Christine.” Jesus had come to me in a bathroom in the middle of New York, of all places! I wanted to praise and worship him but I was crying too much. My own songs of worship sprang from my soul. His peace descended over me. As I wept, I knew that I was forgiven.


     When I came out, Annie looked at my tear streaked face and said, “Listen to me. Jesus doesn’t remember your sin at all. Why should you?” My leaders prayed I’d feel his forgiveness like never before, that I would see visions of God’s love. Instantly, I felt Jesus’ presence. “I can feel the Spirit flow through me into you,” Annie whispered, her voice electric. I closed my eyes, three images passing through my mind.


     The first was of me standing in the heavens, bright clouds surrounding me. I was dressed in all white. My face was vibrant, pure and holy, smiling. Return to me, for I have redeemed you, the Spirit whispered words from the book of Isaiah. Light shone around me from all sides. The clouds were beautiful, stretching on forever. I was pure.


     The second was of Jesus showing me his pierced hand, cradling it with the other. The palm faced me, pierced and bleeding crimson. The Spirit reminded me of all that His hands meant. But he was pierced for our transgressions….and by his wounds we are healed. I was set free.


     In the third I sat at Jesus’ feet. I could see the edges of his white robe. The ground was white all around me. I saw my hands laying something down and spreading it out. It was dense and black like smoke. It was my sin. As I watched, it slowly dissipated. I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. I was forgiven.


     I realized something through it all. Before, during and after the visions, I was forgiven. I had already been forgiven. Jesus died on the cross for all of my sins, not just the ones I did before I’d known better. I had some basic lessons to learn, and Jesus was ready to teach me. Forgiven means forgotten. He forgave my sin the second I asked. I needed to forgive myself and accept it. It's as simple as that.


     My sins were as far as the east from the west, yet before the visions, they were never far from my mind. I kept them bound tightly to me by my guilt and shame. But if Jesus can love me, call me beloved and forgiven, then I must do the same. If he can call me his, then so can I am precious to him. I needed to silence the voices of death that lied to me, and pay attention to the voice of Jesus.


     His perfect love drives out all guilt, shame and fear. His forgiveness is not earned or maintained, it’s just there. Somewhere along the line I needed to learn to be like Jesus. Not just in holiness and obedience to the Father, but also in the way he treats me. He does not hold my sin against me. In the same way, I should not hold my sin against me. As Jesus said, “If the son sets you free, you are free indeed.”