Doing the Unimaginable

I resisted watching Lin-Manuel Miranda's Hamilton for a long time, because I resist bandwagons, and since the world and its brother were climbing aboard the biggest bandwagon ever, I decided my life was just fine without Hamilton.

When the pandemic kicked in and our family suddenly found ourselves sitting at home way more often than we'd had to do before, my husband signed up for Disney +, a media streaming service that could give us access to most of our favorite old Disney movies we loved. The service also streamed a few other movies, so my husband and I watched all the Marvel movies in chronological order, and... Hamilton.

Of course, I fell in love with it, despite my earlier reservations. It was incredible. I'm not a big fan of rap-style music, but the lyrics are brilliant and intricate and meaningful, and King George III deserves an Oscar, amen.

The part of the play that stood out to me the most was a scene of amazing grace. I'm not talking about John Newton's 1772 composition, although that is one of my favorite songs ever because of the message it proclaims. The Hamilton song that frames this grace-filled scene is: It's Quiet Uptown. Let me set the stage:

Alexander Hamilton messed up, badly. He was unfaithful to Eliza, his wife, and because those in politics are rarely allowed to keep their skeletons hanging unseen in closets, his part in the affair was published, and the story made its way to his spouse. Over the course of this song, you see, hear, and feel both players' pain. You see his sorrow and you hear her heartbreak. You see his change and you hear her pause.

Look around, look around, Eliza. 

There is taut breathlessness on the stage as she considers for eternal seconds, and the struggle in her smooth expression slices like a knife as she strives to put the past behind them. 

You think, there's no way. He betrayed her. In the worst possible way one person could betray another, he did it! Her forgiveness had to be impossible. 

They are trying to do the unimaginable.

And then, somehow... she forgives him. She forgives him. Genuine, complete, amazing grace...

It is unimaginable.

There are moments that the words don't reach; there is a grace too powerful to name. 

Eliza reaches toward Alexander, past the failure, past the mistakes, past the past... and takes his hand. Forgiveness. Grace. Amazing, incredible, unimaginable grace.

Tears stream every time I see that scene. Because how can we understand a love that would endure through the fires of betrayal? How can we understand a faithfulness that embraces us even when we are not faithful? How can we understand perfection when we are so mired down by the imperfect? We can't.

It is... unimaginable.

And yet.

"God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8).

"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us" (1 John 3:16-20). 

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness" (Lamentations 3:23-23).

If you don't know this unimaginable grace, will you consider how incredible His love is for you? Will you think about how God reaches past your failures, past your mistakes... past your past? Will you you reach your hand out to take the one He offers you? I would love to pray with you. Message me; nothing would make me happier. Or find someone you trust who will pray with you. Don't wait.

The unimaginable is too important to leave sitting on the shelf.

Kail, T. (Director). (2020). Hamilton [Film]. Walt Disney Pictures.