Lenten Reflection #1

My favorite musical is Jesus Christ Superstar, so imagine my delight and utter joy when, almost two years ago, I was cast in a community production of this 70’s rock opera. The experience, coincidentally, my last theatrical production before I came to seminary, continues to color my personal theological reflections and relationship with God.

One of the more interesting aspects of the production was that we, the chorus, had to fill every crowd scene in the musical. Disciples became the exuberant crowd shouting “Hosannas” who became the den of thieves selling wares in the temple who became the crowd crying for Jesus’ crucifixion. We had multiple costume changes throughout the show to convey the change in persona.

I always thought it was interesting, and somewhat profound, that the same people who danced with the passion that only a rock-opera can convey (see: Hair, Tommy, etc.) would, in 30 minutes time, be the blood-hungry crowd crying demanding the sacrifice of an innocent man. We who cried, “Jesus, I am with you! Jesus I am on your side!” later cried “We have no king but Ceasar! Crucify him!” One minute, we worshipped him. The next, we derided him as he lay on the cross.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem! City that kills its prophets! We are quick to shout for vengeance and slow to remember grace and the true meaning of power and glory. During the show, we changed our clothes depending on who were portraying in that moment. But in real life, we do not have the benefit of a costume change. Our hearts become “quick-change artists” while our outer appearance remains the same.

We are fickle, non-committal, restless, grace-less. We hop on religious bandwagons because it is popular and well-received—or maybe because it’s hip and subversive. Religion becomes a passing fad, like pet rocks and mood-rings, when we follow the crowd and not our hearts. I am not convinced that the people who wished Jesus dead did, in fact, want to kill him. Instead, they gave into the mob-mentality, like sharks on a feeding frenzy.

Christianity is no mere “fad,” were it so, we would still be worshipping trees or the patron deity of our city-state. But it is the inner movements under the umbrella of Christianity that are fleeting, enjoying 15 minutes of fame (or notoriety). How can we be sure that what we believe or support is substantial and not just popular? How can we be certain that we are following God’s, and not humanity’s, intentions? How can we escape the mob-mentality and focus on the message of the gospel which does not guarantee popularity or acceptance? Some questions to ponder during this Lenten season…

Musings

I should've been alive in the 70's...

Lux Aeterna

Monday Afternoon Reflections

There is a subtle joy in sitting at the C&A, here, on a beautiful Monday afternoon that seduces us with the promise of Spring. I am surrounded by Daly, Levinas, several pints of Shiner Bock and yet, I am inspired not to work, but to melt, relax, and reflect.

The bar, filled with quiet, curious souls, does not look like the bar on Friday night. A strange calm permeates the air and I reach again for a half-cold leftover french fry. Marley on the loudspeaker morphs into Blondie who morphs into the Old 97's. A grackle--otherwise known as a coal-black urban crow, boldly jumps on my table, my makeshift desk, and I notice he is not black but rather a pallet of muted blues and purples, navys and greens. The crow realizes I have no food to offer, for the french fries are eaten, and flies to another table.

A delivery boy, surely a savior to us bar-flies, drives up and delivers several kegs of the god's nectar. Does he know he is a bringer of salvation? Does he realize the power he holds? Blessed is he that comes in the name of the beer!

The wind blows, a soft, chilly kiss on my cheek. I shiver, reaching, at first for my well-worn jean jacket, but yet, the sun warms again, and the jacket remains a rumbled pile of denim on the "desk." And I think, and type, and write...and I pause...and I stop typing (only for an instant).

Gloria in excelsis Deo!