Who I Am

I Am Sam is a heartwarming film topbilled by Sean Penn as Sam and the still young and cute Dakota Fanning as his loveable daughter. Michelle Pfeifer co-stars as the lawyer who defends Sam’s right to custody of his child.

The film is basically about one of life’s seeming misfortunes — mental handicap. What strikes me, however, is my favorite theme of “being” as against “doing” (See my previous post: “Just Be or Just Do It?”. Sam is a mentally challenged father of a lovable seven-year old kid in the person of Dakota. Due to his mental limitations, the State tries to take child custody away from him so the girl can be brought up well by “normal” persons. Michelle as her lawyer goes on to show the court that Sam as he is, mentally handicapped and all, is just as capable as any normal person to bring up her own daughter properly and perhaps, even better than anyone else. It is not whether Sam can do what other parents can do, but whether he can love because love is all you need. Sam insists he can because, as he says: “I am Sam and I am her father”.

I watched the film with my daughter during the Holy Week break and the general mood must have made me start asking the question that has been bugging me for the longest time: “Who am I, really, in God’s eyes?”

And I am reminded of a minister who was teaching his weekly Bible class. He asked the members how they would introduce themselves to the Lord when they got to heaven. The first one said, "Lord, I'm Martha. I was married for 47 years I raised three wonderful children, and I always baked the cupcakes for the school. That's who I am."

Another said, "Lord, I'm George. I was the biggest contractor in the province. Almost all of my buildings were good and I tried to watch out for the little guys. That's who I am."

And another said, "I'm Harry. I was the school janitor all my life. Kept the place real clean, and was never mean to the kids either. That's who I am, Lord

And so it went till finally it was the turn of the oldest man in the group. He spoke very softly: "I won't need to introduce myself," he said." The Lord already knows who I am."

And so, who am I? Come to think of it, the Lord already knows who I am from inside out, and he looks at me with the same love that he had for his dear friend Lazarus. He knows and loves me as I am.

But he also sees what's dead in me, just as clearly as when he looked at the dead Lazarus. He smells the stench of death. He sees me locked up behind solid rock, as Lazarus was. He sees the parts of me that bind me that I can't move. And he calls out to me by name, just as he called Lazarus. "Danny, come out!" he says. "Don't stay in that place of death any longer. Come out into the fresh air and the light and be released from your bonds, whatever they are. Come out, and live, and share my friendship. Come out!"

If I am to answer his call, I must be true to who I really am, I must name the parts of myself that are wounded or dead, imprisoned or in darkness, and then give those parts of myself to him to be healed, resurrected, and set free to live a new and spirit-filled life.