The Mirror: Armageddon

I don't know how many times I've seen the film Armageddon or, until last night, the most recent time I saw it, but I really enjoyed watching it again. For those who don't know it, the basic premise is this: an asteroid is on a collision course with earth. The only way to stop it and the catastrophic destruction it would cause on impact is to land a deep core drilling team on the asteroid and plant a nuclear bomb in its core.

Armageddon was the highest grossing film in 1998. Aside from the impressive ensemble cast led by Bruce Willis, it has some funny lines, suspenseful scenes and mind blowing visuals courtesy of the awesome special effects, but I found one thing particularly interesting.

Willis plays Harry, the best deep core driller in the world. His crew includes Chick (played by Will Patton). On the eve of their trip into space for the dangerous mission, Chick visits a home where he sees his son playing outside. His estranged wife appears and tells Chick he's breaching court orders by being there. The viewers learn that the boy does not know his father, whom Chick's wife calls a salesman before sending the boy inside. We are not told anymore of Chick's back story other than he regrets the current situation. Before he goes, he apologizes and leaves a gift for his son: a model space shuttle.

Harry's crew fly into space amid much media hype surrounding the mission to save the planet. The men are lauded as heroes. Chick's son sees his father, who he thinks is a salesman, on TV. Now suddenly willing to tell her son the truth, Chick's ex reveals the true identity of the salesman. Only four of the crew return from the mission. Chick is greeted on his arrival back on terra firma by his wife and son and all is apparently forgiven...because he's a hero now.

This is typical of the simplistic way films and television shows deal with complex issues. It is also symptomatic of our hero worshiping nature. Most of the true heroes in the world don't get public acknowledgement or material rewards. We have a tendency to place public figures on pedestals and idolize them whilst ignoring or being dismissive of everyday heroes. Beyond these negatives, Armageddon also presents some echoes of profound truth.

Think of the broken relationships you've experienced or are experiencing. Could one monumental act of bravery or self sacrifice, or some other huge achievement fix it? I don't know why Chick and his wife split up in such acrimonious circumstances, or why his son didn't know him. I suspect it may have had something to do with Chick's gambling habit and the fact that his job kept him away from home frequently. It just struck me as implausible that one act, albeit such a massive one, could so easily fix things.

And then I remembered Jesus Christ, and his one incredible act of self sacrifice. His death and resurrection fixed things between us and God. The metaphoric end of the world for those who have hope in the God of hope is never actually the end of the world. One man died to save the world and repair, restore and renew all our relationships. 

What would it take for you to believe this?

V is for Victory

V is for Victory

“Mark was at the Marrara Cricket Ground watching Australia play Bangladesh in the first test match when he received a phone call he was not expecting. The Top End sun beat down upon the heads of the players and most of the fans as Australia took control of the match early in the post lunch session on Day One. Stubborn resistance but the Bangladesh top order batsmen faltered after the break with the Australian bowlers claiming three quick wickets. The crowd was jubilant, cheering and swilling beer from plastic cups.

A lull in the vociferous celebrations allowed Mark to hear his phone, otherwise he might have missed the call. He answered without attempting to subdue his excitement.

‘Hello, Mark. Wittaya Keawwanna here. How are you? Do you have time to talk?’

‘Faark!’ said Mark.

‘Sorry, what was that? Did I catch you at a bad time?’

Mark yelled to his mate beside him that he needed to go and take this call to which his mate merely raised his plastic cup.

‘Sorry Senator. I’m at Mararra. At the cricket. I’m just trying to get away from the noise. Bear with me will you?’”

From chapter 16, Ashmore Grief

There are three games of rugby league on today, and three games of Australian Rules football. It is Friday but not a typical Friday. It is April 25: ANZAC Day in Australia and New Zealand. This morning many of us attended dawn services at various locations around the country to commemorate one of our most significant national days. This afternoon many of us will watch a game of footy or two or three. We will cheer for our teams and hopefully celebrate their victories. Our sporting heroes will entertain us and inspire us. However, today is not about sport.

On April 25, 1915, around ten thousand Australian and New Zealand soldiers died at Galipoli in Turkey as they attempted a poorly plalnned beach landing at what is now called Anzac Cove. The sixteen million lives lost during the First World War should have deterred us from further international conflict, but it didn’t.  Victory came at a terrible cost, and as history has unfolded, we see nothing but misery and devastation as nations have fought each other. Men and women have served their countries fighting for what they believed in, and dying for it. Today we remember those who have died, not as a glorification of war but as an acknowledgement of the sacrifices made by honourable and brave people.

The spirit of the ANZACs is alive and well in Australia. As we drink and eat and watch the footy, we will remember our true heroes. To all Australian armed forces personnel past and present, I say “thank you.”