I’m [plunking] through season three of Buffy this summer. Last night I watched “Amends.” Angel (the ex-vampire) suffers dreams and visions embodying his past sins. He is haunted– being told that he has no place on this earth but to be evil, only capable of violence, only finding peace in embracing his cruel nature.
Refusing to be caught in this violent cycle, Angel waits outside the city for the sun to rise, to burn away his wickedness– as he is unable to accept the forgiveness offered to him by his community (even by those who he’d tortured). The visions are the past for which he cannot accept redemption
Look, I’m weak. I’ve never been anything else. It’s not the demon in me that needs killing, Buffy. It’s the man.
Dawn approaches on the warm Christmas morning, but instead of the sun– snow begins to gently float down. The sun is miraculously covered, saving Angel from the fiery punishment– his just reward.
I don’t think there is anything as beautiful as grace. Pure undeserved grace pouring down from heaven. We are weak, we deserve guilt and shame– and are unable even to forgive ourselves. It takes grace to reach down, for no reason whatsoever, and lift us up out of ourselves.
Doesn’t it remind you of Christmas, just maybe?
Becky
Plunking?
Yes. Plunking– you got a problem with that?