I watched Masked and Anonymous tonight. It’s a movie that you probably haven’t heard of, although it’s recent. Cameos run amuck, and it’s even better because sometimes you know the actor is a famous actor, but, because of the character and the wardrobe, you can’t tell who it is. Then there are the other cameos where you can tell exactly who it is, but they still do a phenomenal job at playing a character that you don’t care if they’re too famous to play that bit role. Why would so many famous people take pay cuts to be supporting actors in a movie you haven’t heard of?

Because the movie’s main character is Jack Fate, as played by Bob Dylan.

I realize many of my peers have no respect for Dylan. At worst, they think he’s old, irrelevant, an icon of an age long gone, an ancient mariner still riding the waves of the music world, a mumbler, a drug-user, a one-time-Christian-turned-Jew-turned-Christian-turned-who-knows-what.

At best, my peers like a few of his most popular songs, but, unfortunately, they like his songs as covered by other bands, a la Mr. Tambourine Man by the Byrds.

This is my preface for a line the venerable Dylan spoke in this enigmatic movie:

“All of us in some way are trying to kill time. When it’s all said and done, time ends up killing us.”

How this resounds with me, especially at this moment in my life. During my educational years, there was always something important to do, a paper to write, a test to study for, and then I felt justified with my goofing off and my entertainment, as if I’d earned it for being a good student. My life felt full, then again, most things during your formative years feel much larger than they actually are. (That’s why teen-based shows are so dramatic).

Post-college, I feel that my free time could always be put to better use. i could feed the naked or clothe the hungry. I’m an adult and these are the things we’re supposed to do, right? (if I’ve read my Bible correctly, and, sheesh, who knows if I have?)

My wife travels weekly, thus I’m home alone alot during the week. I come home having already thought about the ways I’ll kill time. In fact, watching Masked & Anonymous was tops on my list for tonight’s activities. Fortunately, I got some exercise (a rare occurrence) by going to the driving range and hitting golf balls for almost two hours. Golfing is one of the best time-killers, reading great books being the best. (Why do you think so many older types play golf? They have to do something till the Reaper comes).

This is what I do, nightly: I check to see what’s on the Tivo. I check my email and my favorite sites. I read parts of books. I watch Netflix. I play Xbox. I play with the dog. I eat dinner. I listen to music. I try to get out of the apartment and go to a friend’s house (the few that I have).

I kill time, and I kill it well. I consider it intellectually-stimulating time, what with all the book reading and culturally relevant movie consumption.

But what am I doing, really? What eternal value does this have? When the Grimmest Reaper comes a-haunting my front door, what will I have to say?

No!
Wait!
You can’t do this!
I don’t deserve this!
Not yet!
I’ve still got three more characters to unlock on Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2005 for the xbox!
I won’t be able to finish my Netflix queue!
My Tivo’s still full!
I was just about to buy another new CD!
I just started that book that that guy wrote about the thing with the people!
How can you do this to someone like me?!
I had so much to live for!

But this is not my life. This is my life boiled down to it’s most lonely, where the space from my laz-e-boy to the television is far easier to cover than the space between my wife and myself when we argue, or when a friend asks me to come over and I feel too despondent to even respond. This is how I try to stifle that feeling, to kill it.

Loneliness and spare time hold hands behind the barn.

The feeling won’t be killed until I am. Then the formula that’s run the earth for eons gets reversed. Time ceases to exist and no one will ever be alone. For those that know Him, you’ll never be away from Him. You’ll never be lonely, never be wanting, never be wasting, or killing, time. Time dies the moment you do.

So let time come for me (but not too fast, alright? I’ve still got lots of living to do). Let it roll on. Let it press into me on every side. Let it stare at me, it’s face glaring at me with my own glaring reflection. I don’t fear it. There’s One greater than time, and present even now.