Walking on water and learning to forgive

Octavia Spencer and Sam Worthington in “The Shack”

“The Shack” is a modern-day morality tale, with decided emphasis on modern. As such, it eschews the traditional view of goodness, God and godliness, in favor of a more psychological approach, with childhood abuse and trauma being posited as the roots of sin.

Thus, its protagonist, Mack (Sam Worthington), is shown to have had a horrendous upbringing, no thanks to his physically and psychologically violent father.

When he married and became a dad himself, Worthington’s character strives mightily to be the exact opposite of his abusive parent—not realizing that the seeds of violence, anger and hate have been planted so deeply in his psyche that he is doomed to fail.

The immediate trigger of Mack’s inherited torment is a family tragedy that would challenge and crush the best of men. In our antihero’s case, his wounded psyche is all too easily vanquished.

Instead of being the rock that his family needs to survive the ordeal, he lashes out peevishly at others—and especially at God, for being such a heartless divine “parent.”

Hasn’t he tried so hard to be the opposite of his “monster” dad? So, why does God victimize him like his father did?

Many people have asked the same angry and anguished question after being confronted by personal tragedy.

If our Creator is supposed to be a God of love, why are some of the events He allows to happen so seemingly heartless and hateful?

Director Stuart Hazeldine’s way of responding to that anguished query is to reconceptualize and update the film’s concept of goodness and Godhood.

Still taking his cue from the mystery of the Holy Trinity, Hazeldine presents viewers with his own cast of divine characters—instead of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Godhood is now vivified by an ever-loving mother (Octavia Spencer) who “takes” the angry accuser’s tirades with equanimity and understanding.

She lives in a bucolic, pastoral home with two other representations of and variations on the triune divine, and they all gradually wear their accuser down, until he is enlightened—and spiritually and psychologically healed.

Based on a hit novel by William P. Young, which was both acclaimed and controversial, the film version has similarly been both lauded and criticized.

Fans celebrate its positivism and ecumenism, making the concept of God more accessible to viewers today—while dissenters bewail the “liberties” it’s taken with the Bible, and for its New Age and “overly popularizing” tweaks that end up watering down some religious tenets.

For our part, we agree that “popularizing” can be carried too far, and watering down is a disservice to both tenet and recipient.

But, we did benefit from watching the film, especially when it scored its anger-filled protagonist for being too judgmental.

Even more powerful and persuasive was its dramatization of the long, arduous but necessary process of forgiveness—an essential requirement for anybody who wants to heal himself.

On the debit side, the film arrives at some of its conclusions too easily, breezily and “trendily.” Struggling to rise above a soul-shattering personal tragedy is not to be depicted lightly and neatly, so the film’s protagonist should have been made to vivify the struggle more arduously and realistically.

In a sense, walking on water is easier than learning to truly forgive.