States of Mess
Spoiler Alert. If you haven’t seen States of Grace, and you want to be surprised when you do, don’t read this.
Today in priesthood meeting, the elder’s quorum president asked the returned missionaries in the room when they had felt the Spirit the most – was it when you were working your hardest and obeying all the rules? The yes was pretty unanimous. The only head I saw shaking was mine.
When I went into States of Grace, Richard Dutcher’s most recent film, one of the first things I saw were two elders going against the rules. Immediately, I was hooked. They bring a street preacher in off the street, they have dinner with the girl next door (Holly), and Elder Farrell begins spending too much time her. And then, of course, all hell breaks loose. We’ve got a missionary who has lost his virginity and has attempted suicide.
I could hear my mission president intoning, “That’s what rules are for, Elders. Follow the rules and messes like this will never happen.”
He’s right, of course.
But this is what I’m thinking. Maybe mess is the way to salvation.
In Christian and Mormon doctrine we supposedly have a fallen nature, we are “the natural man,” “enemies to God.” We have to overcome our fallen natures through a divine sacrifice in order to escape our brokenness. And indeed, at the end of the movie, there is an affecting scene where the main characters hold a baby at a live nativity scene. The baby represents forgiveness, which all the characters feel a deep need of.
But this explanation rings hollow to me. It seems to me that Dutcher has crafted a story where it is actually brokenness that is our salvation, rather than forgiveness.
States of Grace is full of broken people. The two I liked best (and they were the main characters, after all) were Elder Ferrell and Holly. Elder Ferrell reminds me of one of my companions, sexually frustrated and a heart of gold. Mix them together and you have a healthy dollop of messiness. Holly is a girl who did something her family couldn’t forgive her for. She’s alone in a world where honest human caring is hard to come by. As the movie progresses, Elder Ferrell and Holly become more and more emotionally attached until, finally, one night.
Well, you get the idea.
In some ways I wish Richard would have showed us what happened that night between Elder Farrell and Holly. It certainly would have been a loaded scene, and probably wouldn’t have done much for Richard politically, but we know Elder Ferrell wasn’t guided by his crotch only; his heart and his spirit were there too. And we know Holly would never deliberately act the part of the temptress. Mostly likely, real needs were addressed on both sides that evening. How would that scene have progressed, where would spirituality and sex overlap in that kind of situation?
In any case, we now we have a mess. Missionaries are not supposed to have sex. Heck, missionaries are barely supposed to shake hands. And as we find out, Elder Ferrell’s father would prefer to have him come home in a casket than dishonored. And Ferrell tries to be obliging.
It becomes very evident that Ferrell and Holly cannot operate in the ordered world right now. They have been thrown out of it. They’ve committed sins that, by all doctrine and family rules, will keep them out of heaven and home until they repent and get back into line. They may be forgiven someday, but they’ll never be the same. They’ll always remember.
At this point in the movie, Richards’ reputation as a storyteller hung in the balance for me. He had done an excellent job of setting up the values and then overturning them. And now we had two people in a very vulnerable position.
If the Mormon rules-based order has its way, Farrell will be whisked away by his mother. Gossip will buzz all over the ward, and his mom and bishop will try to help him help him “repent” of his sin – second only to murder. They’ll try to help him mend his brokenness. But he’ll probably move to another town, go to a community college and spend the rest of his life haunted by his life-altering mistake. Meanwhile, Holly, the temptress, forgotten, will stay in her apartment, continue to do odd acting jobs for a few years and then slide into work as a secretary in a temp agency, never quite finding her way into a lasting relationship. The wages of sin.
But Richard took another direction. In this one Holly decides their sins aren’t liabilities, but gifts. I cheered when Holly ran down the steps and braved that mass of white shirts, the mission president, and Farrell’s mother, plowing through them to slip her hand into Ferrell’s.
These were two broken people. Broken together. Broken exactly right. Looking at them, I could tell that they had plenty of challenges ahead. They were a lot like Adam and Eve, choosing to go out into the lone and dreary world, instead of holing themselves up in a fantasy. Their brokenness, it seemed to me, was something to be embraced. Their sins were building blocks. Alma and Zeezrom argued about if we are saved in our sins or from our sins. Perhaps we could say that we are saved by our sins.










March 23rd, 2006 at 5:54 pm
Life is messy. People are messy. I’m with being messy.
March 23rd, 2006 at 8:31 pm
I’m new to Sunstone Blog, but I’m already hooked. Thank you for your valuable perspective.
March 24th, 2006 at 6:26 am
Stephen, nice analysis. But I disagree witht the conclusions. I don’t see anything in the film that suggests they’re actually better off for having sinned. There is indeed something romantic about the process of repentance, but I think what we value about the process is the humility. However, I think we can achieve that same humility without sin and repentance. I just don’t see any way, within the context of the film or without, that we are saved by our sins. It sounds awful poetic and thought provoking, but I think we will find it’s logically empty.
March 24th, 2006 at 8:52 am
Ahh please, Eric! Without sin there would be no Mormonism - or any Christian derived religion. Sin is the raison d’etre of Christianity (Mormonism is close enough).
Think about it - what is the purpose of the LDS religion according to it’s own teaching? To help you get back to live with god (and some would say to eventually become a god). The primary obstacle? Sin! So, the purpose of the LDS religion is to help people overcome sin. What the religion fails to mention, of course, is that sin is a social construction, but that’s a different issue. The real point, and this is what makes Stephen’s entry so intriguing, is that there would be no need for Mormonism if people didn’t sin (remember, that was “Satan’s plan”). Sin is what gives Mormonism a reason for existing and, frankly, is what makes Mormon life both so difficult and so interesting.
March 24th, 2006 at 1:38 pm
In Richard L. Bushman’s biography of Joseph Smith, he suggests strongly that Smith was imperfect, a “rough stone” and through the trials of life became smooth and polished.
From my perspective, the point here is that perfection from the BEGINNING is not possible. Even Joseph Smith was “a rough stone.” More than that, it is not DESIRABLE. Nobody learns the lessons they haven’t been taught. And I don’t believe you are “taught” the lessons you MOST need sitting in a Sunday School class and simply listening. We learn–really learn– through the course of our experiences. It is by those hard lessons learned that we at last internalize the principle and can say, “Ah…I get it now.” Without that experience, all to often it is merely theoretical.
For some things, things that are not already a personal weakness, the theoretical may be sufficient. But I have yet to see the man or woman who was born without weakness, and who cannot succumb to the lessons the universe would have us learn. It is by overcoming the experience that our weaknesses are finally conquered. Unless they are tried, they are not proven. It is the weakness overcome that is source of true wisdom, not the weakness never tested.
And I think THAT’s what Stephen has so elequently stated in his blog’s remarks.
March 24th, 2006 at 2:20 pm
This is a very interesting take on this film, and I like the idea of embracing the brokeness.
I’ve seen the film a number of times and have been pleasantly surprised at the small details that Dutcher included.
I see Farrell as the archetypical mormon - of all the characters, his is the one we don’t have a very clear backstory on. We don’t know where he is from, we know very little about his family until late in the film, and in the beginning he is blithely going along intent on keeping the letter of the law. He could be you, he could be me, he could be that elder in your ward who entered the MTC last week. He is us.
I like the way Dutcher brought him into a place where a true understanding of the atonement is possible - not academic, but real and meaningful and vital.
Perhaps not only is Farrell a reflection of individual LDS shortcomings, but in a broader perspective a reflection on us as a people. Are we so busy, so intent on the schedules and the rules and the requirements, that we lose sight of Christ and Christian acts? To some extent, yes.
Finally, there are small moments in the film that strike me as powerful details - Farrell touching the nativity during the discussion, Holly giving Farrell the cross again, and one of the most touching moments: The hospital scene when the mission president arrives and sees Holly in the room with Farrell. Lozano offers to ask her to leave, but the Mission President replies in a most striking and Christlike way, full of empathy and concern: “What’s she like?”
Rather than seeing a temptress, a woman who has caused this ruin on his young missionary, he sees _her_.
A powerful lesson, and a powerful film.
Thanks for an interesting post, Stephen, a very interesting perspective.
March 24th, 2006 at 3:04 pm
Eric wrote:
I just don’t see any way, within the context of the film or without, that we are saved by our sins. It sounds awful poetic and thought provoking, but I think we will find it’s logically empty.
Steve says,
Here’s another way of approaching what I’m trying to say. You know how asphalt or rocks are eventually broken down by water. There are little fissures in the rock that allow a bit of water inside. Then the freeze comes, the water expands, and slowly the rock is broken down from within. I’m just thinking that’s an interesting metaphor for how “sin” works in our lives. Sin being fissures through which God can sneak into our souls.
Without sin, is there no place for God?
March 25th, 2006 at 10:48 am
The part where the stake President asks, “What’s she like” of Holly in the hospital was touching but I couldn’t help but laugh and I couldn’t understand why I would laugh at that point. But, after thinking about it I understood very clearly why I laughed, because it was so unreal. In the real world the Stake President would have had Holly removed unceremoniously from the room and in a fatherly voice he would have “counseled” her never to return.
I do not expect this kind of understanding and compassion from most religious authorities.
Gordon Hill
March 25th, 2006 at 4:56 pm
Ryan said: “there would be no need for Mormonism if people didn’t sin.”
That’s correct, Ryan. The ideal would be that everyone were perfect and thus no need for religion in the first place. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.
Stephen, I’m sorry, but that analogy makes no sense. In fact, it’s so completely ridiculous that have to wonder if we’re talking about the same thing when we use the word “sin.” As I use it, sin is the turning away from God. God’s goal is to get is to turn towards him. Turning further away from God in no way helps the process of turning towards God.
It is, of course, true that sometimes when people turn extremely away from God that they realize their folly and turn back towards God, closer than they were before. But this is in no way necessary. We can choose to humble ourselves without the compulsory humility that often comes with severe sin.
March 26th, 2006 at 12:49 pm
Let’s hear it for the “LDSS”! [Saints AND sinners!]All are welcome in true community (per M. Scott Peck)that values meaning seekers of all kinds.
Stephen, you seem to value compassion. Refreshing. Thanks for your courage to shake your head in response to your Elders Quorum president’s question to the RMs in the room. Did anyone else notice?
I liked your insight into how God can use very little water (beyond total immersion) as a way to sneak into our souls.
Eric, I think you missed Stephen’s point completely!
March 26th, 2006 at 6:12 pm
I have not seen this movie, but am intriguied by what I have read so far. Often things fall apart because of sin and then through repentance, the pieces are put back together in their proper order. It is bueatiful thing to be able to repent, and have that great unspeakable gift work in each of us.
But the same joy that comes through repentance, I think can be enjoyed in being faithful. You have to know how to find it, or better what to ask for.
March 26th, 2006 at 9:28 pm
Eric Wrote:
Stephen, I’m sorry, but that analogy makes no sense. In fact, it’s so completely ridiculous that have to wonder if we’re talking about the same thing when we use the word “sin.” As I use it, sin is the turning away from God. God’s goal is to get is to turn towards him. Turning further away from God in no way helps the process of turning towards God.
Steve Writes:
You’re probably right that we have two different conceptions of sin. The truth is, I’m very confused about what sin is. I spent much of my life with the same definition that you put forth above. But I’ve found it to be very lacking when it comes to making sense of my own life.
But, to go in your direction, I remember that in States of Grace there comes the point where Louis (the gang guy who converts - is that his name?) actually has the guy who killed his brother down on the ground with a gun to his head. The conflict was obviously, does Louis shoot him, reverting to him former revenge-filled self, or does he not, sticking with the covenants he just made?
I knew what the right answer was, but as I looked at that gang guy cowering on the ground, saying anything he possibly could to draw out their sympathy, I knew he was scum. I knew that if Louis let him go, he’d track Louis down and kill him. So to me, the conflict was, does Louis let the bad guy go and sign his own death warrent? Or does he get rid of scum?
Of course, he doesn’t kill him. And I thought, “Is Richard going to bring this to it’s Book of Mormon conclusion, with the scum guy slaughtering a prostrate Louis?” That would have been a gutsy choice.
But Richard gets out of it by having one of Louis’ friends pop him off. Louis’ character arc has been completed, so the plot has no more use for the scum guy.
So maybe you and I would have something to talk about if we were to approach sin as, “the attitude and the actions of the scum guy.” He being entirely destructive, and in no way able to stop being destructive.
The sin I was approaching with my original essay, however, was something completely different. Sin, as I was looking at it, isn’t doing wrong, or turning away from God, but is rather unskillful attempts at happiness. You act in a way that you think will bring you happiness, and then find out what happens as a result of your actions. What are the consequences, and do you like them?
In many ways the act Ferrel and Holly made was unskillful. It was in direct conflict with the structure that gave Ferrell’s life meaning. However, it also opened up an initial understanding within Ferrell about the contradictions and unhealthy activities and attitudes he had fostered as an untouched Mormon. It also brought his life into contact with someone who would probably do him a lot of good.
When one makes an unskillful attempt, the light it casts, or the shadows, help us get a bearing on what it is we really want out of life, and how to get it. Without these attempts, it seems to me, we would never know what we really wanted.
Now, I realize that the scum guy’s function in the movie was as pure evil, the structure of the screenplay left no room for a character arc for him. His role was purely to test Louis. I don’t know if there are a lot of people like him in the world. Perhaps, like the Lamanites, it would take his slaughtering a kneeling Louis to help him understand that his actions were not conducive toward his own happiness, and he would start looking for other ways. I don’t know.
March 26th, 2006 at 9:39 pm
Eugene Wrote:
Let’s hear it for the “LDSS”! [Saints AND sinners!]All are welcome in true community (per M. Scott Peck)that values meaning seekers of all kinds.
Steve Writes:
Hey, I’m a big old Scott Peck fan. _The DIfferent Drum_ is one of my all time favorite books. And if you can point me in the direction of an LDSS ward, I’d be there in a second.
Eugene wrote:
Stephen, you seem to value compassion. Refreshing.
Steve Writes:
Well, as Hamlet said, “Use every man after his desert, and who shall ’scape whipping?” I like compassion mainly because I like it when it’s applied to me.
Eugene Wrote:
Thanks for your courage to shake your head in response to your Elders Quorum president’s question to the RMs in the room. Did anyone else notice?
Steve confesses:
Actually, I am a coward in church. I don’t have the requisite guts to make my thoughts known except in the most extreme circumstances. My ward is a very orthodox one and LOVES to talk about how right we are, and constructing their experience to show how true everything about the church is. I’ve tried to let them see my different views, but they’re not interested. And I figure, since they seem so happy, why bother them? Therefore, if they’re interested in my opinion, they can come here, I guess.
March 26th, 2006 at 11:54 pm
Steve Writes:
Hey, I’m a big old Scott Peck fan. _The DIfferent Drum_ is one of my all time favorite books. And if you can point me in the direction of an LDSS ward, I’d be there in a second.
Eugene writes:
Bless you Stephen, I first learned about Sunstone from the late Scott Peck, himself, at a US-USSR Sister City conference in Telluride, CO in 1988. I had just read his “Different Drum” and was anxious to discuss it with him, making it known at the same time that I was LDS. He asked me if I knew about Sunstone, which he said was an ideal illustration of his Stage III community or “Emptying” phase, observing at the same time that the Salt Lake ecclesiastical institution was a classic example of Stage I, or “Pseudo Community”. He said further that the dilemma of church leaders who might themselves be in stage IV, or “True Community”, was how to get their people from Stage I through Stage II and on to Stage IV without getting stuck in Stage III. It was then I got acquainted with Sunstone, having realiased that I had become stuck in the essential daring-to-tell-it-how it-is Stage II or “Chaos”.
May we at Sunstone manage to make it out of Stage III and into that mystical and wonderful LDSS Stage IV occasionally. You can bet it won’t be officially sanctioned by the Brethren these days. But, hey! You and I both believe in miracles, don’t we? I’m sure Gene England’s ward was such a one, when he was bishop.
March 27th, 2006 at 11:56 am
Re. comment 12. Just a note on the character names: Louis is the street preacher the missionaries befriend; Carl is the gang member who must face the decision about what to do about his brother’s murderer.