There is a stunning movie on Netflix right now called Out of My Mind. It is about a teenage girl with cerebral palsy. She is bright, funny, sassy, non-verbal, and wheelchair-bound. For her entire life, others have spoken on her behalf. At best, her family has made every effort to honor her preferences. At worst, her teachers and classmates have misunderstood her desires and abilities. All of that changes when she is approved for a computer that allows her to speak for herself.
As Melody begins to speak for herself, it becomes apparent that she has felt unseen by everyone in her life on one level or another. Watching Melody get overlooked by peers and opportunities alike reveals the very human experience we all share when we are not fully acknowledged, and the ache that accompanies it.
Her story begins in a lonely place.
Who hasn’t known the experience of existing in obscurity? So much of life happens in quiet, unwitnessed moments. This can feel true for a season or a lifetime. Obscurity can be part of our chosen vocation, and in it, there is a certain kind of freedom. However, there can also be a particular kind of loneliness in feeling unseen.
Isolation: One of the Devil’s Many Tricks
Whether by choice or circumstance, we all experience times of obscurity. In the absence of connection—whether that is in a friend, family member, spouse, or community—we confront the fear that in our isolation, we are unloved, even unlovable. Add to that the cultural norm that has become sharing highlight reels, and we have a perfect storm for calling our belovedness into question. It is not uncommon to doubt our worth during these times. These vulnerable feelings are fertile soil for the devil to speak all manner of lies into our hearts and minds about our value and worth.
Jesus Entered Into Obscurity on Our Behalf
God knows our hearts so well. With keen attentiveness to our fear of being unseen, unknown, and unloved, the Word became flesh to experience the fullness of human reality. As one of the Cappadocian Fathers, Saint Gregory of Nazianzus, described it: “What God did not assume, He did not redeem” (Epistle 101, also known as the Letter to Cledonius the Priest, or Against Apollinarius). In addition to taking on human flesh for the salvation of the world, Jesus also put on obscurity, truly leaving nothing to separate us from the Incarnational reality of God and God’s love.
Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth was considered a joke because of its insignificance: “Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?” (John 1:46) The Holy Family was not welcomed into a home or inn during the census in Bethlehem, even though our Blessed Mother was about to give birth (see Luke 2:7). They were forced to flee to Egypt and live in a foreign land, lest Herod find them, and kill their baby (see Matthew 13-15). Then, for thirty years, Jesus humbly learned and grew in His hometown, becoming a man and a skilled tradesperson under the guidance of Saint Joseph (see Luke 2:51). The God of the universe was someone’s son, nephew, neighbor, childhood friend, and carpenter. Imagine Him holding the tension of what God was actively doing in the world, while waiting in line for a haircut.
Water Into Wine Reality
Then one day, Jesus stepped out of obscurity at a wedding, at His mother’s request, and the world was never the same again (see John 2:1-12). Suddenly, His friends and family began to wonder Who Jesus really was the entire time they knew Him. All told, only three of Jesus’ earthly years were spent in the public eye, which says a lot about the value God places on hiddenness, or the obscurity of our unsung lives. Jesus is with us in the quiet and sometimes lonely parts of our story, so much so that He literally spent decades going about life in the same quiet manner.
In turn, He saw deeply into the dignity of every person, knowing that they had a story too—a practice we are invited to adopt.
Without giving away the ending of Out of My Mind, Melody turns out to be someone no one expected her to be. She continued to face prejudice and misunderstanding, but her time in obscurity gave her insight into how to see others as well as herself. Her ability to speak allowed her to step out of the isolation she had been experiencing. Although the movie was not overtly religious, viewers witness Melody glimpse in real time her God-given human dignity that had always been there, and embrace herself as fully known and seen for who she is: a metaphor for Jesus’ invitation to each of us, no matter our season.
Katie Cassady is a regular contributor to the BIS blog. She is a wife and mom to three little girls in Denver, CO. Steeped in theological reflection, beekeeping and motherhood, she is appreciative of any and all wisdom she can glean from those living intentional lives of faith. Find out more about her here. Read all of Katie's posts here.
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