I made the mistake over Christmas of letting my kids watch Home Alone and they have since been rounded up and placed into a young offender’s institute after swinging bricks into my husband’s face and setting his head on fire*.
*This did not happen.
Here, I want to address the problem of a culture which is adrift from its Christian roots, and the inevitable sanitisation of language that follows. I want to, if you will, feed two birds with one scone.
Some books and films open a window into our human condition and reveal both the deadly consequences of sin and the moments of grace that penetrate our lives. They bring to light the transcendentals of truth, beauty and goodness by exposing falsehood, ugliness and evil. But that which cannot be named, cannot be exposed. Flannery O’Connor is one such author whose fiction takes its character from a reasonable use of the unreasonable.
