I am overwhelmed by the way the cast and crew of the recent Avenue Theatre production of "Willy Wonka" worked together to create something wonderful. This isn't just a thank you for their hard work and dedication (even though it is that), this is a recognition of something special. Yes, it was just a play, and, as with any community theater production there are things which could have been better, but if the world functioned the way this group did, every situation which looms before us, causing worry and distress, would be solved. I have no doubts about that.
Over the course of a few weeks, fifty people amazed me at every turn. Consider this: When added together, thousands of hours of rehearsal, organizing, set building, prop gathering, decorating and more were required to produce seven, two-hour performances of "Willy Wonka." Not only did they receive no pay, as is typical with community theater, but they bought their own costumes, sold sponsorships and tickets and chipped in extra money for the cast party and lovely gifts for me, the director.
Whether on stage or behind the scenes, many were called upon to do things they had never tried before, and they did so without complaint even when I was quite demanding, wanting them to do their best. Our handful of truly experienced participants helped others along and never displayed a "prima donna" attitude. If there were disagreements backstage, I didn't know it; everyone dealt with problems which arose and worked through them. New friendships were forged.
When I thought of how to try to thank the cast and crew by recognizing each one, individually, I knew I would do a disservice to those who took on tasks behind the scenes which I knew nothing about. The generosity of those involved cannot be overstated; all gave freely, whether of their time or resources or both.Whatever their background, profession or station in life, it didn't matter -- all that mattered was the task at hand. And that certainly didn't include just the "glamorous" stuff, performing on stage or meeting and greeting adoring fans, but also: set changing, curtain opening/closing, doing make up, loaning personal items to use in the play, helping with publicity, working at the concession stand and box office, picking up trash/cleaning up after the show, etc.
Can you imagine how different our current "debt crisis" would be if decision-makers would lay aside their egos and work for the common good? If they didn't care about recognition or getting credit for their ideas? If lawmakers were willing to not only give up their salaries but also ask their friends and family to contribute to making progress? If creative thinking and a willingness to cooperate would prevail?
The cast and crew bring to mind several verses in the second chapter of the book Philippians. "make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." (verses 2-4)
My joy is complete with regard to everything they did. Don't you wish Congress would take a page from the same play book?
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Our Image of Jesus
A conversation on a related topic this week has me thinking about my image of Jesus. How do I imagine him? Not just his physical appearance, but how do I think he behaved? What were his mannerisms? What kind of personality did he have? If he is our example, as scripture says, then perhaps we should spend some time thinking about the kind of person he must have been.
We do know Jesus wept at the death of his friend, Lazarus, so he was not robotic and emotionless. This is also evidenced by his recorded anger at unrighteousness and injustice on several occasions and by the tenderness he showed, as well. While scripture, perhaps, provides few specific instances of his outward joy, it is easy to think of him smiling often, laughing easily and singing. Visualizing Jesus as solemn and stoic does a disservice to him and the life he lived. It can also deprive us, (and those around us, if we become sour and judgmental), of a joy-filled existence.
While we may sing "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," do we think of him as someone we would enjoy spending time with, who is supportive and encouraging? Or has he become just a figure from long ago in flowing robes, perhaps portrayed only as a shepherd, a teacher or a dying man on a cross?
I think of Jesus as vibrant and strong, smiling and friendly, creative and intelligent. He was straightforward. He didn't tell anyone what they wanted to hear, but what they needed to hear, and he managed to do it in a way that was not insulting. He promoted dignity and respect, especially for the least of those around him. His love is unconditional, but he pushes us to grow spiritually and get beyond behaviors which are destructive.
I believe he urges us to live simply. To stand up for those who are poor and downtrodden. To display passion and purpose. He doesn't fit into the mold that many, especially in the political realm, have cast for him. I see him breaking free of traditional wisdom and conventional thinking and challenging us to be a better individuals every day. He is not hateful, spiteful or mean, and for those who would do harm or say hurtful things to others in his name, I suggest a thorough re-thinking of their image of Jesus
We do know Jesus wept at the death of his friend, Lazarus, so he was not robotic and emotionless. This is also evidenced by his recorded anger at unrighteousness and injustice on several occasions and by the tenderness he showed, as well. While scripture, perhaps, provides few specific instances of his outward joy, it is easy to think of him smiling often, laughing easily and singing. Visualizing Jesus as solemn and stoic does a disservice to him and the life he lived. It can also deprive us, (and those around us, if we become sour and judgmental), of a joy-filled existence.
While we may sing "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," do we think of him as someone we would enjoy spending time with, who is supportive and encouraging? Or has he become just a figure from long ago in flowing robes, perhaps portrayed only as a shepherd, a teacher or a dying man on a cross?
I think of Jesus as vibrant and strong, smiling and friendly, creative and intelligent. He was straightforward. He didn't tell anyone what they wanted to hear, but what they needed to hear, and he managed to do it in a way that was not insulting. He promoted dignity and respect, especially for the least of those around him. His love is unconditional, but he pushes us to grow spiritually and get beyond behaviors which are destructive.
I believe he urges us to live simply. To stand up for those who are poor and downtrodden. To display passion and purpose. He doesn't fit into the mold that many, especially in the political realm, have cast for him. I see him breaking free of traditional wisdom and conventional thinking and challenging us to be a better individuals every day. He is not hateful, spiteful or mean, and for those who would do harm or say hurtful things to others in his name, I suggest a thorough re-thinking of their image of Jesus
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Gratitude
I am grateful today. Grateful for my family and friends. For living in a community where I feel safe and in a country where I am free. For health and joy. For life and love.
My son-in-law wrecked his car this week. When someone pulled out in front of him on the highway, John managed to avoid a three-car pile up even though it sent his vehicle spinning down the road before flying off of an embankment, totaling his car. He's sore and bruised and whiplash hasn't been ruled out (he was wearing his seatbelt; it broke), but he walked away, and in fact, within an hour of the incident he was on stage at our local community theatre performing the lead role in "Willy Wonka," the musical.
As I reflect on the ups and downs of life, the what ifs and the big picture view...I am grateful. My blessings are many.
My son-in-law wrecked his car this week. When someone pulled out in front of him on the highway, John managed to avoid a three-car pile up even though it sent his vehicle spinning down the road before flying off of an embankment, totaling his car. He's sore and bruised and whiplash hasn't been ruled out (he was wearing his seatbelt; it broke), but he walked away, and in fact, within an hour of the incident he was on stage at our local community theatre performing the lead role in "Willy Wonka," the musical.
As I reflect on the ups and downs of life, the what ifs and the big picture view...I am grateful. My blessings are many.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Outrage and Actions
I remember reading in "The Week" last year about a little dog lost at sea in a burned out ship, and the mass effort and amount of money spent rescuing it. (The article is also posted online and is actually an excerpt from the book The Hidden Brain ©2010 by Shankar Vedantam. Here is the link for those who would like to read it; he makes some interesting points. http://theweek.com/article/index/106310/the-little-dog-lost-at-sea)
The article outlines the story of a 2002 incident which spanned nearly two months and cost hundreds of thousands of dollars (including at least $250,000 from U.S. taxpayer funds) which finally led to the dog's rescue. Vedantam addresses the thinking behind why we seem to connect with one individual (dog, in this case, but humans in other instances), but mass suffering is easier to dismiss. He notes:
"The philosopher Peter Singer once devised a dilemma that highlights a central contradiction in our moral reasoning. If you see a child drowning in a pond—and you would ruin a fine pair of shoes worth $200 if you jumped into the water—would you save the child or save your shoes? Most people react incredulously to the question; obviously, a child’s life is worth more than a pair of shoes. But if this is the case, Singer asked, why do large numbers of people hesitate to write checks for $200 to a reputable charity that could save the life of a child halfway around the world—when there are millions of children who need our help?"
I did not watch the Casey Anthony trial and am not entitled to an opinion as to her guilt or innocence, but the situation does remind me of the "one child versus a million children" moral dilemma. I am certainly saddened over the death of her beautiful little girl, but at the same time, I can't help thinking of the millions of children who die from preventable causes each year, around the world and in the United States. Their passing is not generally greeted with the same outrage as Caylee's has been, even though, in many cases, their deaths are the result of the policies of our own country, including wars we have started.
As we (rightfully) mourn Caylee Anthony, perhaps her death can also serve as a reminder that tens of thousands of other beautiful children suffer and die every day. While there's nothing we can do to bring Caylee back, we can strive to cherish all children, just as Jesus did when he took them in his arms and blessed them.
The article outlines the story of a 2002 incident which spanned nearly two months and cost hundreds of thousands of dollars (including at least $250,000 from U.S. taxpayer funds) which finally led to the dog's rescue. Vedantam addresses the thinking behind why we seem to connect with one individual (dog, in this case, but humans in other instances), but mass suffering is easier to dismiss. He notes:
"The philosopher Peter Singer once devised a dilemma that highlights a central contradiction in our moral reasoning. If you see a child drowning in a pond—and you would ruin a fine pair of shoes worth $200 if you jumped into the water—would you save the child or save your shoes? Most people react incredulously to the question; obviously, a child’s life is worth more than a pair of shoes. But if this is the case, Singer asked, why do large numbers of people hesitate to write checks for $200 to a reputable charity that could save the life of a child halfway around the world—when there are millions of children who need our help?"
I did not watch the Casey Anthony trial and am not entitled to an opinion as to her guilt or innocence, but the situation does remind me of the "one child versus a million children" moral dilemma. I am certainly saddened over the death of her beautiful little girl, but at the same time, I can't help thinking of the millions of children who die from preventable causes each year, around the world and in the United States. Their passing is not generally greeted with the same outrage as Caylee's has been, even though, in many cases, their deaths are the result of the policies of our own country, including wars we have started.
As we (rightfully) mourn Caylee Anthony, perhaps her death can also serve as a reminder that tens of thousands of other beautiful children suffer and die every day. While there's nothing we can do to bring Caylee back, we can strive to cherish all children, just as Jesus did when he took them in his arms and blessed them.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Our Failures Are on Display
A "Letter to the Editor" which recently appeared in my local newspaper, The West Plains Daily Quill, left me stunned and puzzled after I read it. A man from Florida told of his initial intent to make a donation to the Red Cross for relief efforts in Joplin in my home state of Missouri. He had written the check but forgot to mail it before he left on vacation. While driving through our area on his way home from Iowa, someone in an SUV with a Missouri license plate cut him off in traffic, causing him to swerve and "miss his exit entirely."
He concludes his letter by saying, "Upon arrival home I went to my desk where I voided the entry in my checkbook register, then opened the envelope and shredded the check. It takes only one bad apple to spoil the bushel. That SUV driver was the one."
After reading the details, I found it difficult to imagine why he was motivated to be charitable in the first place (perhaps for a tax deduction; he did feel the need to also mention he was driving a new car with less than 2,000 miles on the odometer), but it is mind boggling that his philanthropic impulse would be squelched so easily. (His car was not damaged, and missing the exit he mentioned, likely required a detour of five minutes or less to get back on track.) Deciding to "punish" Joplin because of the actions of one inconsiderate Missouri driver requires quite a leap in logical thinking.
It reminds me of those who reject Jesus because his followers don't always live up to his teachings. If Red Cross officials could somehow magically have made that SUV driver do the right thing on the highway so the Florida man would have gone ahead with his donation, I'm sure they would have done so. Similarly, Jesus can't force believers to do the right thing, either; the choices we make every day are ours alone.
And while the choices are ours, we need to remember our choices often affect others, and when we make poor decisions, someone will almost always be watching. It's not fair that Joplin got gypped because of a bad motorist, but that is, unfortunately, the way some people think. And it may not be fair that we need to be on our best behavior because others are watching, but it is a fact of life and why we should strive to be better every day. But if you ever see me do something silly in traffic, I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt, and also, don't blame Jesus; he's not the one doing the driving.
He concludes his letter by saying, "Upon arrival home I went to my desk where I voided the entry in my checkbook register, then opened the envelope and shredded the check. It takes only one bad apple to spoil the bushel. That SUV driver was the one."
After reading the details, I found it difficult to imagine why he was motivated to be charitable in the first place (perhaps for a tax deduction; he did feel the need to also mention he was driving a new car with less than 2,000 miles on the odometer), but it is mind boggling that his philanthropic impulse would be squelched so easily. (His car was not damaged, and missing the exit he mentioned, likely required a detour of five minutes or less to get back on track.) Deciding to "punish" Joplin because of the actions of one inconsiderate Missouri driver requires quite a leap in logical thinking.
It reminds me of those who reject Jesus because his followers don't always live up to his teachings. If Red Cross officials could somehow magically have made that SUV driver do the right thing on the highway so the Florida man would have gone ahead with his donation, I'm sure they would have done so. Similarly, Jesus can't force believers to do the right thing, either; the choices we make every day are ours alone.
And while the choices are ours, we need to remember our choices often affect others, and when we make poor decisions, someone will almost always be watching. It's not fair that Joplin got gypped because of a bad motorist, but that is, unfortunately, the way some people think. And it may not be fair that we need to be on our best behavior because others are watching, but it is a fact of life and why we should strive to be better every day. But if you ever see me do something silly in traffic, I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt, and also, don't blame Jesus; he's not the one doing the driving.
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