In The Mind of the Maker, Sayers suggests that the relationship between the writer's idea and its fulfillment in the written word parallels the relationship between Creator God and the incarnated Christ. A quick read through the Stranger Than Fiction screenplay reveals that the writer, Zach Helm, may have intended just such a connection. Perturbed over being misunderstood, a flustered Harold says to a woman at a bus stop, "I …Â No. I'm … [Christ]" (the brackets indicate that the word is to be said under his breath). Reminiscent of Jesus' prayer of angst in the garden of Gethsemane, Harold pleads with Kay to spare his life. But Professor Hilbert, having read Kay's first draft, tells Harold that the story "is a masterpiece. You have to die." With agony, Harold responds, "You're asking me to knowingly face my death?" The answer, of course, is yes.
Upon reading his maker's book, Harold submits his life to his narrator's will, telling her, "I love [the story]. There is only one way it can end. I love your book." Therefore, just as Jesus "set his face toward Jerusalem" and his inevitable death, we watch with intrigue as Harold calmly, with resignation, prepares to die. He carefully chooses the apple he will take with him to the bus stop—the place of his death. Are we reminded here of the second Adam, a type of the first who brought sin into the world by eating a piece of fruit, commonly considered an apple? At the appointed place, Harold knowingly, willingly, steps in front of an oncoming bus to save a little boy from death. He dies—with a halo of blood framing his head—so that a child can live.
A heartbeat after this sober image, however, the screen is awash with a bright white light that resolves into a shot of Harold lying in bed—alive. Yes, he lives! Need we say more? Professor Hilbert is not so pleased that Harold lives. He questions Kay about her revision, to which she replies, "If a man does know he's going to die, and dies anyway … dies willingly, knowing he could stop it … you tell me … . Isn't that the type of man you want to keep alive?" Because of the submission of Harold's heart, what we thought would be a funeral scene becomes a resurrection celebration.
If Harold dies and lives as a type of Jesus Christ—a representative of the divine life, so to speak—he also represents our humanity. The meaning of Harold's existence comes to fruition only in the fullness of time. Significantly, the watch mentioned in Kay's opening voiceover saved his life, as his doctor explains: "Amazingly a shard of metal from your watch became lodged in the artery, causing your heart rate to slow, keeping your loss of blood down enough to keep you alive." Harold was embedded in time, yet the fullness of time was also embedded in Harold.
So with us all: though we cannot know for certain how or when we will die, we can live our lives embedded in time, making the most out of the time embedded in us. As exhorted by the one who is himself the fulfillment of all time, we can love our neighbors as ourselves.
Sharon Baker is assistant professor of theology and religion and Crystal Downing is professor of English and Film Studies at Messiah College in Pennsylvania. They thank Odd Men Out, a film discussion group, for encouraging this essay and providing a copy of the screenplay for quotations.
Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Books & Culture magazine.
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