I have become totally enamored with the movie Secretariat. The telling of the horse that won the Triple Crown in 1973; a feat not accomplished since 1948. On top of that, said Equus Caballus still has the standing records for two of those wins, the Kentucky Derby and the Belmont Stakes, historically winning said Belmont by an unprecedented 31 lengths! Not to be unenthusiastic, but many would say so what? Cool horse, nice story, great athlete or some such musings.
First, I set about to confirm some interesting observations which lead to furious digging into newspaper articles and background information. As I should have expected Hollywood scriptwriters liberally rewrote the timeline and performed their customary massaging of the facts into a seamless fairy tale. At first this really bothered me, but I wanted to continue. So plowing through movie magic dust, I looked to the wisdom of God. The more the story rolled around in my brain, the more I saw a bigger truth, and this one infinitely more worthy. Yes, Hollywood has the luxury of painting its picture in smooth, colorful brush strokes where good triumphs and people are caricatures of themselves. But life isn't like that is it? It's splotchy with big, ugly blobs of paint thrown on and so many splattered colors it becomes mottled and messy with giant black smudges and huge chubby-fingered smears. I'm sure to the naked eye it clearly depicts the strokes of a near-sighted two year old (and at moments a psychotic blind man). Replacing the picturesque and serenely victorious are failures, bad choices, awful judgment, vain pursuits, lack of movement -- a colossal jumble -- but no less triumphant; in truth, more. Greatness is achieved in the midst of the mundane and victory strides on the track of tediousness. So despite the detail manipulation, every word in my opening paragraph is true.
Life is broken and gritty and miracles can still happen.
What set these people apart? What allowed them to share in this extraordinary spectacle? Several things come to mind. Every single partaker in this horse's legendary feats was quite simply carrying out their lives with authenticity. Penny was the right owner seeing this horse’s potential and refusing to yield to pressures to sell. Eddie was the best horse companion and groomer. Lucien was the perfect trainer, Ms. Ham, the loyal family secretary and confidante. Ronnie Turcotte the right jockey. Every one of them being the best that they could be at what they were created and gifted to do. They also demonstrated great commitment and fortitude. No matter how bleak the circumstances appeared, they did not abandon their quest. Lastly, they did not abandon each other - another rousing thumbs up concerning the importance of being in community.
How many times did doubt and despair threaten to overcome our bold owner Mrs. Tweedy? How many times was her marriage on the brink of divorce? How close had Lucien come to retiring before Secretariat? And because I am biased, how many times did Ms. Ham wonder how her life had impact - an unmarried secretary? All is purely speculation I know, but reality dictates there were probably more hopeless moments then this telling reveals. And to that I say AMEN!
I have hopeless moments. Despair surely knows my address and I go to bed countless nights wondering if I did, or ever will, use my God-given giftedness to count for something. None of that, though, bans me from the miracle, if I just hold on and trust in an Almighty God whose brush strokes create the ultimte masterpiece from our finger painting.
Ephesians 2:10 (NIV): For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Isaiah 64:4 (NIV): Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.
Join me in singing, won’t you?
Oh happy day (oh happy day)
Oh happy day (oh happy day)
When Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
When Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
When my Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
He washed my sins away!
He taught me how (oh, He taught me how)
To wash (to wash, to wash)
Fight and pray (to fight and pray)
Fight and pray
And he taught me how to live rejoicing
yes, He did (and live rejoicing)
Oh yeah, every, every day (every, every day)
(oh yeah) Every day!
I have reprinted an excerpt from a letter Penny Tweedy’s youngest son, John, wrote commenting on the movie:
"The movie does, indeed, glamorize and improve on my family's situation in the early 1970s, as it sanitizes the cultural context of that era. In real life, we Tweedys were more riven and frayed by the large and small conflicts of the time, and by the pressures of celebrity into which we were suddenly thrust. The wars between our parents were more bitter, the marriage more broken, and we kids were more alienated and countercultural than the movie depicts . . . . And on that day in June 1973, when he [Secretariat] blew away the field in the Belmont Stakes, he transcended argument, rivalry, even transcended sport itself. In that moment Secretariat gave my family, and gave the public, something like grace." [My personal comment – something exactly like grace!]
First, I set about to confirm some interesting observations which lead to furious digging into newspaper articles and background information. As I should have expected Hollywood scriptwriters liberally rewrote the timeline and performed their customary massaging of the facts into a seamless fairy tale. At first this really bothered me, but I wanted to continue. So plowing through movie magic dust, I looked to the wisdom of God. The more the story rolled around in my brain, the more I saw a bigger truth, and this one infinitely more worthy. Yes, Hollywood has the luxury of painting its picture in smooth, colorful brush strokes where good triumphs and people are caricatures of themselves. But life isn't like that is it? It's splotchy with big, ugly blobs of paint thrown on and so many splattered colors it becomes mottled and messy with giant black smudges and huge chubby-fingered smears. I'm sure to the naked eye it clearly depicts the strokes of a near-sighted two year old (and at moments a psychotic blind man). Replacing the picturesque and serenely victorious are failures, bad choices, awful judgment, vain pursuits, lack of movement -- a colossal jumble -- but no less triumphant; in truth, more. Greatness is achieved in the midst of the mundane and victory strides on the track of tediousness. So despite the detail manipulation, every word in my opening paragraph is true.
Life is broken and gritty and miracles can still happen.
What set these people apart? What allowed them to share in this extraordinary spectacle? Several things come to mind. Every single partaker in this horse's legendary feats was quite simply carrying out their lives with authenticity. Penny was the right owner seeing this horse’s potential and refusing to yield to pressures to sell. Eddie was the best horse companion and groomer. Lucien was the perfect trainer, Ms. Ham, the loyal family secretary and confidante. Ronnie Turcotte the right jockey. Every one of them being the best that they could be at what they were created and gifted to do. They also demonstrated great commitment and fortitude. No matter how bleak the circumstances appeared, they did not abandon their quest. Lastly, they did not abandon each other - another rousing thumbs up concerning the importance of being in community.
How many times did doubt and despair threaten to overcome our bold owner Mrs. Tweedy? How many times was her marriage on the brink of divorce? How close had Lucien come to retiring before Secretariat? And because I am biased, how many times did Ms. Ham wonder how her life had impact - an unmarried secretary? All is purely speculation I know, but reality dictates there were probably more hopeless moments then this telling reveals. And to that I say AMEN!
I have hopeless moments. Despair surely knows my address and I go to bed countless nights wondering if I did, or ever will, use my God-given giftedness to count for something. None of that, though, bans me from the miracle, if I just hold on and trust in an Almighty God whose brush strokes create the ultimte masterpiece from our finger painting.
Ephesians 2:10 (NIV): For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Isaiah 64:4 (NIV): Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.
Join me in singing, won’t you?
Oh happy day (oh happy day)
Oh happy day (oh happy day)
When Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
When Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
When my Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
He washed my sins away!
He taught me how (oh, He taught me how)
To wash (to wash, to wash)
Fight and pray (to fight and pray)
Fight and pray
And he taught me how to live rejoicing
yes, He did (and live rejoicing)
Oh yeah, every, every day (every, every day)
(oh yeah) Every day!
I have reprinted an excerpt from a letter Penny Tweedy’s youngest son, John, wrote commenting on the movie:
"The movie does, indeed, glamorize and improve on my family's situation in the early 1970s, as it sanitizes the cultural context of that era. In real life, we Tweedys were more riven and frayed by the large and small conflicts of the time, and by the pressures of celebrity into which we were suddenly thrust. The wars between our parents were more bitter, the marriage more broken, and we kids were more alienated and countercultural than the movie depicts . . . . And on that day in June 1973, when he [Secretariat] blew away the field in the Belmont Stakes, he transcended argument, rivalry, even transcended sport itself. In that moment Secretariat gave my family, and gave the public, something like grace." [My personal comment – something exactly like grace!]
