"The Shining" and the Death of Sin

I was a wee lad when I became a Stephen King fan; he is almost solely responsible for inciting me to love reading when I was young, and as a teenager I read every one of his novels. Regardless of one's opinions about the subject matter (people have understandable problems), no one can deny his talent as a writer of characters that often seem more real than the flesh-and-blood folks we live with from day to day.

I recently reread The Shining (Stanley Kubrick's film, which is the one everyone knows, can't hold a candle). I was seventeen the first time I read it, and I remember being thrilled by the story; but I'm not seventeen anymore. Now I'm thirty, and about to be a father—the story was wildly different for me this time around. While still thrilling, there was a sort of desperation in the thrill, the feeling that every father is actually not so far from Jack Torrance's horrific screw-up. 

Because in fact, Jack's not a bad guy. That's why the book is so much more compelling than the movie—Jack Nicholson gives you the impression his character is  nuts before he ever gets to the hotel. The novel's Jack Torrance is a regular joe, a thirty-ish recovering alcoholic trying to love his wife and kid and mend his past mistakes. The haunted Overlook Hotel exploits his frailty and pushes him to do its bidding—basically turns him into a walking robot that will accomplish its ends. As little Danny tells his mother when Jack begins his roque mallet rampage, "That's not Daddy doing those things—it's the hotel." 

What was different for me this time around was that I saw myself in Jack, especially in the middle sections of the book, before the hotel actually had a hold of him. He struggles not so much with temptation at that point, but with the idea that he's not going to live up—that no matter how hard he tries or how much he loves his wife and son, he won't be able to help making a mess of it. He doesn't lack resolve, but hope—he has the desire, but doesn't think he has the power to carry it out.

Sound familiar? I felt that same familiarity—that echo of prayers I've prayed in the past—reading Romans. Paul says, "For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing." (Rom. 7.18-19). And like when Danny said "That's not Daddy doing those things—it's the hotel", Paul says, "Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me" (7.20).

Paul calls it a law (7.21)—sin lives in my body, and there's nothing in me that can stop it. I have no power over it myself (7.18); even the good that I do, if I do it on my own steam, is sin (Rom. 8.8, John 15.5, cf. 1 Cor. 10.31). What felt so tragic about The Shining this time around was knowing that if Jack had had the ability to resist the hotel's draw, he would have made a pretty good dad. But he didn't, and neither do we—none of us have the ability to resist sin's pull and weight. We have tasted and seen that the Lord is good (Ps. 34.8); we have found pleasure in His presence (Ps. 16.11). And yet we've found this same law at work in us: the sin we cannot resist.

At least, not on our own. This is where The Shining falls short, and this is where the Gospel comes through. The Gospel tells us we don't have to rely on futile willpower anymore. Now, we rely on Jesus, who has given us much more than heaven. His death gave us the power not only to resist the sin dwelling in us, but to kill it (Rom. 8.13).

     His Word has made us clean (John 15.3).

     He will help those who wait on Him (Hab. 2.3, Is. 40.28-31).

     He is a solid help for us because He was tempted like us (Heb. 2.17-18).

     He has all authority, and He has given it to us (Matt. 28.18).

     His divine power has given us all we need to be godly (2 Pet. 1.3).

     We can do all things through Him, because He strengthens us (Phil. 4.13).

     We are more than conquerors in Him (Rom. 8.37).

    The weight is off our shoulders—any good we manage for Him is His own doing (Gal. 2.20).

     

Christ's cross frees us to live out the grace that has been shown to us. Our case is not lost; our story is no longer a horror story. The condemning power of sin is dead (Rom. 8.1); now we are free and able to kill its effective power. The Shining is a good cautionary tale, but it is incomplete; it's not enough for Jack to come back to his senses long enough to weep forgiveness and die with the ghosts.

In our True Story, Jesus rescues us far more completely. The hero wins; the villain loses; the child gets to grow up with his Daddy, and they really do live happily ever after.