A little late to the game, hum movies, my husband and I pushed ourselves to see Amour, the recent French film nominated for Best Picture. So many things stand in the way of Amour winning an Oscar: It’s slow. It’s sobering. After the opening scene, the entire 2 hours is set in the claustrophobic confines of a decaying apartment. And it’s French.
It simply can’t win Best Picture.
But what Amour tells us about love is crazily disturbing. It’s the side of love we don’t want to know. The part of love never written on the splashy Pink and Red Valentine cards. The reality never wailed in the Country songs or cooed in R&B. It’s the part of love that makes us want to turn our face and pretend it is otherwise.
Amour tells the love story of fidelity when there’s nothing pretty or convenient or romantic. The love story when your companion of many decades is now incontinent and incoherent. The love story of promises kept and covenants honored.
It’s the love story of sacrifice. Of subordinating our desires, relinquishing our rights, surrendering our freedoms, for the ones we love.
The message of Love is a Jesus message of sacrifice. Brutally and painfully real. If your hope this Lent is to draw closer to the Source of Love, then let me suggest forget Valentines Day. See AmourAmour. Read the Gospels. Then consider what your commitments of “love” look like. For real.