For the first post, click here
Having taken an in-depth look at the primary mother-son relationship in J.A. Bayona’s “The Impossible,” I wanted to share a couple of other observations as well.
In a separate strand of the narrative, we have the two younger boys, Thomas and Simon, in a refugee camp. One starry night, the older boy, Thomas, meets an older English woman (Geraldine Chaplin) who tells him that the stars we see in the sky are actually the stars of the distant past. They died a long time ago, but they shone so brightly that their light still reaches us.
“It seems impossible, doesn’t it?” the woman asks.
Going back to the Virgin Mary a moment: We can say, along with the archangel Gabriel in his Annunciation of Mary’s virginal conception of Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit:
…nothing will be impossible for God. (Luke 1:37 — emphasis mine)
Like all things great and small, the dead stars whose light illumines our nights communicates the self-effacing, yielding power of God in sustaining and redeeming His creation. That one of the very supreme instances of this power happened in a Mother’s Womb is significant, given our analysis in the first post.
And finally, a more general note. Any time a catastrophic flood is the subject of a narrative, the Great Flood of Genesis inevitably comes to mind. The connection here is a little bit vaguer; but weak as it might be, the connection can be summed up in two alliterative words: Flood and family.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Human beings are fallen creatures. When things are going well, we have a tendency to settle into our selfish ways (think of Lucas Bennett on the airplane at the beginning of the film, when he is being a typical rude teenager). Sometimes, it can take a catastrophe to shake us out of ourselves.
Sure, disasters can pit us against one another. But they can also make us more aware of our interdependence and common humanity. And they can strengthen familial bonds, as great trial can make us realize afresh the irreplaceable importance of family.
That’s where the story of Noah and the Great Flood becomes relevant. When we read this classic story, we notice that the very same Flood that destroys the world renews it (renewal is a property of water, after all). In Noah, his wife, his three sons, and their wives, humanity is given a new beginning…and it all begins with the family.
Why? Because the family is a living image of the Blesséd Trinity, the eternal communion of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the God for Whom the human heart is made.
And why do even disaster and tragedy have the potential to bring light to this aspect of human existence? Let me answer that question with an image:
The Second Person of the Blesséd Trinity, in Whom the dying stars that share their light with the world so many years later were made, the Eternal Son of the Eternal Father, has assumed all suffering and catastrophe unto Himself, so that in and through these things we might have the inexpressible privilege of touching His precious wounds…indeed, of sharing in these saving wounds ourselves, so as to take on a salvific role for others.
In conclusion, I would highly recommend “The Impossible.” It is a well-done film, a testament to the triumph of the human spirit, and a work of art that speaks to the human heart in very profound ways.
“Impossible” poster and Biblical images from Wikipedia; remaining images obtained through a Google Image search