Augustine’s Reflections on God’s Mysterious Wisdom
Imagine this: before a basketball season starts, I call a meeting with all the parents of my players. To go even further, I invite their extended family members who have an interest in the team. I ask everyone to make a list of all the things they want me to focus on as a coach, strategic decisions, defensive schemes, special situations, player rotations, and so on. Then, I commit to taking every single suggestion and implementing them during the season.
What would the result be?
The result would be preschool basketball. Our offense would be a train wreck, on defense we wouldn’t be able to guard a mailbox, and in special situations, we may as well hand the ball to the other team. Okay, I know that’s extreme, but hopefully, you get the point. The team would struggle to win games because I’d be trying to accommodate everyone’s preferences instead of using my expertise to make cohesive, strategic decisions.
Looking back, it feels obvious why this approach wouldn’t work. Coaching a team effectively isn’t just about having a list of great ideas, it’s about weaving those ideas into a coherent strategy. And another thing, you can’t forget the players themselves. They’d be caught between competing philosophies and overloaded with instructions that don’t connect. Naturally, this would lead to confusion, which would then spiral into poor performance.
This isn’t a critique of the parents or their intentions, they love their children and want the best for them. But, as I was saying earlier, coaching a team effectively requires more than good intentions. It demands a unified vision, clear priorities, and disciplined decision-making. Even more crucially, it requires a shared vision among all parties involved, coaches, players, and families alike. When everyone understands the overarching goals and agrees on a common direction, their contributions become focused and constructive rather than conflicting. Without this shared vision, even the best strategies can fail.
Now, let’s move forward and shift from hoops to the creative process, specifically, to the movie Mary, which premiered on Netflix a few days ago. Aimed at portraying one of the most significant figures in human history, the film has sparked a wave of criticism, particularly among Catholic audiences. Critics have called it heretical, inaccurate, or flawed, citing a laundry list of issues: it didn’t portray certain doctrines, missed key theological nuances, or lacked historical precision.
Again, let’s think about this scenario. What if D.J. Caruso, the film’s producer, had approached the creation of Mary in the same way I described coaching earlier? Imagine if, before making the movie, he conducted a massive global poll of potential Catholic viewers, grouped all their suggestions into categories, and tried to accommodate every single preference while writing and producing the film.
What would this possibly have been?
It would be an amateurish film with the production value of a home movie, something so unrefined it wouldn’t even attract the attention of networks like (with all due respect) EWTN or Formed.
This outcome was inevitable, it’s exactly what happens when you try to please everyone instead of focusing on a clear vision. A film that attempted to satisfy every theological perspective, historical critique, and artistic preference would likely end up incoherent, lifeless, and utterly forgettable. So yeah, it might appease no one and, worse, fail to inspire anyone. This is because great art, like great coaching, requires a singular vision. It demands intentionality, risk-taking, and the courage to make choices that won’t satisfy every viewer or critic.
Looking back, it’s amusing how this works. However, just as in coaching, a shared vision is equally vital in art. The producer, writers, directors, and other collaborators must align themselves with the project’s deeper purpose. Naturally, disagreements and differences will arise. But when these are subordinated to a common goal, the final product is elevated. This shared commitment allows creative teams to channel their collective energies toward crafting something meaningful and cohesive.
And this is where it gets disorganized: accountability. Of course, this isn’t to say that art (or coaching) is exempt from accountability. Just as a coach must answer for poor results, artists and filmmakers who take on profound subjects like Mary must grapple with the weight of their choices. But, in hindsight, there’s a difference between accountability and perfectionism. The former seeks to refine and elevate; the latter stifles creativity and diminishes the possibility of inspiration.
Personally, I thought Mary was fantastic. For reasons I can’t explain, the filmmakers took bold risks to portray a figure whose life has shaped history and faith. While it’s not a perfect film, it’s a powerful one. The artistry, storytelling, and sheer effort behind it deserve recognition.
Let me turn back for just a moment, for those who criticize its perceived flaws, I’d offer this gentle challenge. Let’s resist the urge to demand that every work of art align perfectly with our personal preferences or theological expectations. Instead, let’s ask whether it moves us, provokes us, or inspires us to think more deeply about the subject it seeks to illuminate.
Whether on the court or in the creative studio, the lesson is clear… a unified vision is the cornerstone of meaningful work. When shared, it fosters collaboration, clarity, and focus. Without it, mediocrity prevails. With it, even efforts crafted with purposeful distinction can resonate deeply, sparking inspiration and provoking thought. Caruso and his team embraced this principle, delivering a film that dares to leave a lasting impact.