The other day I finally got around to watching Jason Reitman’s film Up in the Air. (I know I should have seen it six months ago.) As many of you will know, it got the round of award nominations for most of the major performances, screenplay, and even best picture – although it didn’t win them. There are plenty of great acting and cinematographic moments throughout; but one of them stood out to me… [Spoiler alert!]

 

The scene begins when Natalie, the apprentice to the main character Ryan, is dumped by her boyfriend, and she winds up in the corner of an airport talking with Ryan and Alex – who is something like Ryan’s girlfriend (it’s complicated – and a major plot issue). Ryan slowly gets pushed out of the conversation as the two women discuss their hopes for relationships. 

 

First, Natalie – a recent Cornell graduate – goes through a laundry list of what’s significant to her:

“You know, white collar. College grad. Loves dogs. Likes funny movies. Six foot one. Brown hair. Kind eyes. Works in finance but is outdoorsy, you know, on the weekends. [Pause.] I always imagined he’d have a single syllable name like Matt or John or…Dave. In a perfect world, he drives a Four Runner and the only thing he loves more than me is his golden lab. Oh…and a nice smile.”

 

Second, Alex – well into her 30’s – begins to describe how expectations change.

“Well, by the time you’re 34, all the physical requirements are pretty much out the window. I mean, you secretly pray he’ll be taller than you… Just someone who enjoys my company. Comes from a good family – you don’t think about that when you’re younger. [Pause.] Wants kids…likes kids…wants kids. Healthy enough to play catch with his future son one day. Please, let him earn more than I do! That doesn’t make sense now, but believe me, it will one day. Otherwise it’s just a recipe for disaster. Hopefully some hair on his head…but it’s not exactly a deal-breaker anymore. Nice smile…yep, a nice smile just might do it.”

 

What is so provocative about the scene is the way expectations change. On the one hand, Alex’s perspective seems disappointing, even depressing – and Natalie certainly feels so. On the other hand, what time and aging has begun to impress upon Alex is a sense of the weightiness of some matters over others. 

 

In a similar way, the church is a place to gain perspective. First, in worship we gain a heavenly perspective on our lives – that is, a vision from the angle of God’s heart. So we’re reminded (whether we’re ready or not) of the burden of sin, of the weight of God’s glory, of the passing nature of so many of our desires and commitments. 

 

Second, in the community of believers we have a variety of experience. While I am not so very old – although the college students I work with probably think I am – I’m learning more and more to listen to those with experience. (Age and experience aren’t always the same things. There are some young people who have a lot of experience, and some older people who don’t seem to have any. In biblical terminology, the kind of experience that matters is trials.) The beauty of the church, which transcends race, class, and eventually time and space is that it gives us perspective. We think that things like money, sex, image, and so on matter most; but the experience of the church reminds us that there is only one thing that is needed: the presence of God.