WARNING: The following post is Rated-R for the presence of sacred and profane language. Reader discretion is advised.
Tarantino’s masterpiece Pulp Fiction explores the space between natural phenomena and those inexplicable events that escape reasoned justification.
Human history is replete with stories of divine intervention. Moses parted the Red Sea, helping the children of Israel flee from Pharaoh’s wrath. Jesus’ public ministry began with a utilitarian miracle as he turned water into wine, to the delight of his guests. Jesus’ command of divine power grew through the narratives we have in the gospels-he healed the sick and raised the dead throughout his short life, leaving to the subsequent generations the theological questions of when, where, and how divine intervention becomes operative in human existence. However, these astonishing feats are not reserved for bygone eras, but continue, according to people of faith across the religious, spiritual, and cultural spectrum. It is against this backdrop that Quentin Tarantino tackles the sacred and profane mysteries of modern miracles.
The Profane
The profane explodes on-screen when hit-man duo Jules (Samuel L. Jackson) and Vincent (John Travolta) are taken by surprise by a bungling shooter who fires an entire clip of .357 rounds, that seemingly sailed through their unharmed bodies and pierced the wall behind them.
JULES: “We should be fuckin’ dead right now. Did you see that gun he fired at us? It was bigger than him. We should be fuckin’ dead!”
VINCENT: “Yeah, we were lucky.”
JULES: “That shit wasn’t luck. That shit was somethin’ else. That was. . . divine intervention. You know what divine intervention is?”
VINCENT: “Yeah, I think so. That means God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets.”
JULES: “Yeah, man, that’s what is means. That’s exactly what it means! God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets!”
VINCENT: “I think we should be going now.”
JULES: “Don’t do that! Don’t you fuckin’ do that! Don’t blow this shit off! What just happened was a fuckin’ miracle!”
VINCENT: “Chill the fuck out, Jules, this shit happens.”
JULES: “Wrong, wrong, this shit doesn’t just happen!”
As a god-fearing man, Jules knows about the probability of divine intervention. He knows natural law has been superseded. He knows God did come down from heaven and stopped the bullets. But Vincent still can’t get passed the concerns of the moment — he wants to flee the sacred scene.
VINCENT: “Do you wanna continue this theological discussion in the car, or at the jailhouse with the cops?”
JULES: “We should be fuckin’ dead now, my friend! We just witnessed a miracle, and I want you to fuckin’ acknowledge it!”
VINCENT: “Okay man, it was a miracle, can we leave now?”
Later in the film, Jules and Vincent take up the topic once more. It is clear Jules has given his experience with the divine extensive thought.
JULES: “Man, I’ve just been sitting here thinking about the miracle we witnessed.”
VINCENT: “Miracle you witnessed? I witnessed a freak occurrence.”
JULES: “What is a miracle Vincent?”
VINCENT: “An act of God”
JULES: “And what’s an act of God?”
VINCENT: “When God makes the impossible possible. But this morning, I don’t think qualifies.”
JULES: “Hey Vincent, Don’t you see that shit don’t matter. You’re judging this shit the wrong way. It could be God stopped the bullets, he changed Coke into Pepsi, he found my fuckin’ car keys. You don’t judge shit like this based on merit. Now whether or not what we experienced was an ‘according-to-Hoyle’ miracle is insignificant. What is significant is I felt God’s touch, God got involved.”
VINCENT: “But why?”
JULES: “That’s what’s fuckin’ wit’ me! I don’t know why.”
The Sacred
As Jules contemplates why they were spared the wrath of the .357, he is engaged in a profoundly human process. There seems to be no logical or natural explanation to satisfy his reconstruction of that event. Jules sees only one possibility: divine intervention. This is not unlike what many of us do on a regular basis as we construct the narratives of our lives. We often experience events that seem to transcend natural law and order. Someone is healed from a debilitating disease against all odds; a family escapes certain death by a driver’s impeccable intuition, or someone loses – and inexplicably finds – their car keys. Many people seek a sacred significance to these occurrences, hoping that perhaps there is a grand order to the universe: that there is a God in time and space willing to intervene when humankind is in need. These profane and mundane events of everyday life can transform into manifestations of divine power.
Miracle or Freak Occurrence?
Jules, who is wont to Biblical recitation, provides a sacred context into which this event can fit. His knowledge of the miracles of bygone eras enables him to see that God can still work in miraculous ways. In contrast, Vincent is never fully convinced that what he saw was anything more than a “freak occurrence.” In this way, the event will forever live in two worlds. For Jules, it resides in the sacred space of past miracles, enabling him to join a company people who have witnessed the touch of God. For Vincent, it is part of the profane: a random event of infinitesimal odds, but one that has a natural explanation, nonetheless. The differing interpretations owe nothing to the event itself, or to the actors or forces causing them (natural or otherwise). Jules and Vincent each approach the same event in different ways and come away with different results. Whether the objective substance of life is more like the model described by Jules or Vincent is a question best left to science. However, Jules does teach a valuable lesson: whether or not ‘according-to-Hoyle’ miracles actually happen is insignificant. What is significant is feeling God’s touch. This sense of divine intervention need not be limited to the grand miracles (or freak occurrences) of life. The experience of God’s touch can be a daily experience, when life is approached with wonder and awe at the grandeur of it all.
NEXT WEEK: We’ll extend some of these questions into an exploration of what Mark Kermode considered to be the greatest film ever made: ‘The Exorcist’ (1973). For a more extended schedule, check in here.
This movie is fascinating on so many levels.
I can’t get behind divine intervention. I have felt intense spiritual moments where I believe I’ve somehow connected with something bigger than me (perhaps that’s what Jules felt) but I can’t get behind believing in intervention by deity. For me, to do so means to say deity wants some to live and some to die and that doesn’t fit with my paradigm. I can’t make sense of it.
When I have moments where I feel a spiritual connection, I believe it’s due to something I did to tap into the “greater good”, not necessarily deity reaching out. I’ve witnessed miracles. But those things I attribute to science we don’t yet understand or just the randomness that is a part of life. Shit happens.
@Ren
Miracles were not made for your entertainment, speculation, or evaluation. Spiritual moments ought, rightly, to lead you to the Author of these experiences. Telling yourself that you, somehow, initiated the miracle, or somehow, in any way, determined the outcome for yourself is foolish and unspiritual. It leads to inward speculation, not outward, true, faith and belief. I too, have had some intensely spiritual moments, both inspiring and horrifying. All were beacons leading to accepting Gods plan for eternal living.
Call me old fashioned, but my spiritual bottom line is this; I have no hope but Jesus. Seriously. Nothing else fits the plan. Nothing else will do.
I love your thoughts on this Chris. It IS our unique human process to ponder about god. It’s part of the human experience to wonder if god is there, if not, and what that means either way. I have been very interested in how my perspective changes depending on my belief in god. I tend to keep my morals, remaining a good person. But I tend to question a LOT more. For me, this change is good, more authentic.
I’m interested to hear more about where the concept of the ‘profane’ is constructed from for you, Chris… I’m not really familiar with the connections and history of the term.
I’m really glad that some of the dialogue from the film was reproduced in this article, though: it’s one of the strongest points of this wonderful film. Tarantino has such an ear for the humourous potential of profanity. :) (Not Tarantino, but see Samuel L. Jackson on ‘Snakes on a Plane’)
As for the sacred, I think it’s another fascinating subject… are we right to suggest that powerfully mysterious experiences can equally be interpreted as ‘sacred’ and/or ‘profane’, depending on our reception? Could we experience the sacred as profane… and the profane as sacred?
Often, I think I do.
There is an interesting book called “The Sacred and the Profane” that essentially explores how religions and rituals transform otherwise normal (profane) things into sacred things. Land can become sacred. Bread can become sacred. Sex can become sacred. I think the film shows this. Jules transforms this moment — 2 criminals/killers surviving what should have been their impending doom — from something utterly profane into something divine. The miracle is all in the construction of meaning and interpretation of events.
I also like how much profanity there is in this scene, because I think it’s powerfully juxtaposed with the weighty matters they are discussing — God, miracles, life, death, etc.
I’m going to have to make time to read that one, Chris. A quick look at Wikipedia under ‘profanity’ reveals that the word comes from a latin root, meaning ‘in front of’ or ‘outside the temple’. That’s really interesting to me, as it suggests – as you say – that the ‘profane’ isn’t necessarily dirty – only if your perspective is that the temple is the only place that’s clean! Interesting to consider that if ‘profanity’ is ‘adult language’, then that realm where maturity of mind is necessary exists outside of the temple.
@Andy
Profane was just considered the opposite of Spiritual. Non-spiritual (I have no idea how a person would carry that off) would be accepting the universe as it is, but denying the spiritual that exists in Nature. The seperation is the lie. All of it misdirected if it does not lead you higher up, and further in. A few of the profane (outside the church) writings of C. S. Lewis would bring this into focus. It did for me, so I can whole heartedly affirm that was my experience. And I’ve been told I can be blisteringly profane, should the need arise.
So, no, I don’t think non-spiritual living is possible. And the experience these two had when that .44 opened up on them was undeniably miraculous. Remember the Crucifiction; one man repented, while the other mocked. It’s never too late to turn away from harm. Spiritual harm is just as severe as a broken leg or a heart attack. It just doesn’t look like it at first. It’s like gravity. You try to break that law, and you fall. Immediate consequences. If you break a spiritual law, you get immediate results, too. You just are not as obviously harmed.
Howdy, truly fantastic article, many thanks!