The Movie I Saw Before I Read the Book: The Book Thief

One of the books I plan to read is “The Book Thief” by Marcus Zusak. I put the book on hold at my local library, but, lo and behold, 44 other people in my town have also put the book on hold. While waiting for my turn to read it, I decided to watch the movie the other night. (SPOILER ALERT! Don’t read the rest of this blog post, if you don’t want to know details of the story.)

“The Book Thief” takes place during Nazi Germany, and it tells the story of a girl name Liesel who learns to read with the help of her foster father. Her zeal for the written word grows and she starts stealing books to satiate her love of reading. Many of the books which she steals are banned by the Nazi regime. She starts sharing these books with Max, a Jewish man hidden in her basement. When Max becomes deathly ill, Liesel reads Max many of those stolen books–and those words keep him alive.

Later on in the story, Max gives Liesel a present: a blank journal. On the first page of the journal Max inscribed one word in Hebrew:

לכתוב 

It means “write.” Max then says:

“In my religion, we’re taught that every living thing, every leaf, every bird is only alive because it contains the secret word for life. That’s the only difference between us and a lump of clay, a word. Words are life, Liesel. All those blank pages are for you to fill.”

Watching this scene reminded me of that lovely passage in Genesis: “The Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being” (Gen 2:7). John later wrote: “The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us” (John 1:14).

The only difference between us and a lump of clay is a word. His word breathes physical life into every living creature, and He gives humans the unique gift of language. In this way, we are created in His image.

If I think about this too much (which I am by virtue of the fact that I am writing this post), I feel guilty because I don’t always use my words for good. I have torn down my own self and others through my words.

Yet there have been times, awesome times, when I have committed my mouth and my pen to the Word and the opposite occurred.

I have spoken encouragement to myself and, slowly but surely, emerged from the fog of  depression.

I have scribbled endless gobbledy-gook in my journal and, surprisingly, something of beauty comes across the page. (This surprise causes me to plunge into another black hole of gobbledy-gook to search for more word-treasure. Such is the life of a writer.)

Language is our great and terrible privelege; life and death are in the power of the tongue. Just as Max gave Liesel a blank book to fill with words, the Word has given us a blank span of years to fill with words, both written and verbal, fully knowing we could use them as tools or as weapons. Humbling.

Our tongues are the pen of a ready writer (Psalm 45:2) and, like Max said to Liesel, all those blank pages are for us to fill.

Each day He calls us to write.

Question for You: Are you happy with the life story which you are writing right now? If so, please share. If not, what could you do to rewrite it?