Treading the Boards

It's Major Production time in area schools, two High Schools and one Association of Homeschooled Children are mounting musicals these days. Quality is…not terrific, but effort and enthusiasm are sky-high. Coming home from the our High School production of Peter Pan, I began reflecting on the surprising number of small rural communities who organize and mount some kind of dramatic production every winter. If the community has the musical resources, it's a musical. If music talent is lacking, it's a one-act play, or perhaps two or three one-act plays. I was (as the Brits say) gob-smacked when I discovered this. As long as the venue is local, all kinds of folks come out of the woodwor to 'tread the boards' and become thespians for a few weeks.

It's quite amazingto see bank managers as clowns, cowhands as love-sick college students, matrons as dancing girls, and shy teens as 'the-bad-guy-from-the-next-town-over.' The productions are usually fairly bland family-type entertainment - these are largely family efforts after all. No new or avant-garde dramas here. But everyone has a huge time, and the audiences eat it up.

I vvidly recall that, as a young and newly settled minister in a tough northern minng town, I participated in a drama-variety show. Along with the school principal, I was the comic duo who introduced all the acts. Lame jokes abounded: "Ladies, drop in to Sobey's bakery this week to get bread…" Ta Dah! One of the mine executive's wives had been a Powers model (Oooooooo!), and she did the makeup. Miners, teachers, housewives, engineers - all sorts and conditions of human beings kicked up their heels for a couple weekends, and we all became famous for our requisite fifteen minutes. At the after-paty, I did such a convincing imitation of Foster Brooks (famous TV drunk guy from the 60's and 70's), that he was offended that his minister would be so drunk at a public party!

Putting these rambling thoughts together with my current theological reading, I began to see the ways in which these amateur exercises fulfill Jesus' desire and hope for all human being, that they (we) "have life, and have it abundantly." Gathering and sharing one's talents on stage, however meagre those talents are, gives every ordinary person an opportunity to live out a dream, or pretend to be really important, or feel appreciated for a change.Watching people applaud and cheer for you is both a humbling experience and a gratifying one. I think Jesus was about those things a lot more than he was about "getting religious" in an formal sense. When you do something, participate in something, that lifts your spirit, you are really living!

I don't recall this sort of thing happening much in larger urban areas. People attend theatre, they watch plays and musicals, they don't participate in them. So, whatever negatives can be mustered about small rural communities, supposedly on their last legs, this one thing can me held up in their defence, and as a huge benefit from living near them: you have the opportunuty to live large from time to time, to be locally 'famous' for a moment or two, to experience 'the abundant life' no matter how ordinary you are.

Going to the polls…

Our province is teetering on the brink of an election call. It has to happen this spring, and all parties are 'revving their engines' in preparation. The Progressive Conservatives (oxymoron, anyone?) have put out an attack ad on the Wildrose Alliance Paryy (even further to the right than the PC's) about the new liquor laws. So the campaign appears to have started even before we know the date of an election.

Commentators all over the country are reflecting on the nasty turn that politics have taken in the past few years. Personal attacks, dirty tricks, outright lies - nothing seems to be off the table. Rarely are issues discussed. Slurs are exchanged, slogans bandied about, and the poor electorate is left to make decisions with their inflamed emotions. Perhaps i'm just reflecting old age, but it seemed a bit less nasty in 'the old days,' meaning 30 years ago. Even if it wasn't much different, it feels different to me. Perhaps it's just that I would like to see party policy explained, and compared, so that a vote can be cast on a more rational basis…. I read this over and think, "Yeah, you sound like an old fart.Most people have desided how they will vote long before issues get spelled out. Grow up!"

The whole thing troubles me because it casts such a pall over the whole political realm. We need young peole to be interested in politics, to get into the game on the basis of convictions and beliefs, rather than on the possibility of making a lot of money from the process. This past week, a small time scam was uncovered in ur provincial government. Twenty one MLA's are on a committee that hasn't met since 2008, but they are each paid $1000 per month just for being on that particular committee. That would be a minimum cost of $756,000 since they met last. I imagine this happens in other places as well, but this kind of waste makes hundreds - perhaps thousands of voters cynical about the whole process.

This whole thing is particularly galling to me, because in this "Bible belt" region, many candidates are not shy about trotting out their church connections, and their religious beliefs in their campaign material. "I'm a good Christian, see what I believe…" as opposed to "See what I do, how I behave in government."

I would much rather have a politician who is an honest atheist of some integrity, than a "good Christian" who lacks even fundamental ethics. I recall that when I was a boy in Manitoba, there was a city councillor in Winnpeg who held a north end seat for many years, even though he was an open member of the Communist party. Joe Zuken was a good councillor, and an honest man. Everyone knew that and trusted him. Oh, for more Joe Zukens today!

A puzzle for me

Weird winter weather. Five degrees above freezing on March 7, on the Canadian prairies. Many people think this is WONDERFUL, "spring is right around the corner!" We had a big dump of sow the other day, and most of it melting tonight. Call me silly, but I feel like 'when it's winter, it should be winter; when spring comes (April), it should be spring. I feel nervous about such mild weather in March. To me, it seems like a climate change freaky thing. There are many people in this part of the world who believe that the climate change concern is a plot by someone "back east" to foul up westerners.

It's hard to believe, but I have talked to farmers who say, "Climate change? I can't see it…hasn't affected my farm." I suspect that by the time their farms start blowing away into desert, the rest of the world will be a wreck, and some of them will be sure that the whole thing is an Ottawa plot to interfere with western economic vitality.

It's a strange phenomenon here in rural Alberta, that some very progressive people in the area of their work are surprisingly conservative when it comes to issues of change in society. Why else would people vote for the same political party for 40 years without once considering that a different point of view would be refreshing? I find it odd that a region that is so vital in some ways is content to remain a one party state politically. Perhaps it comes from having been through a number of "booms," which sustain people's positive spin even through the bust years. But, in the end, I don't understand it.


 

Snow

It's been snowing for the last 36 hours, off and on. The Weather Channel keeps telling us that it's a "snowfall warning," as though this was a startling event in March on the prairies of Canada! The world outside is pristine white, and everything appears to move more slowly in the deep snow. I know that when I walked my 3.5 km yesterday in two or three inches of the stuff, I was slow…and I wearied! I shovelled once yesterday, and realized that my back could take no more of that, so later in the day
  I fired up the snow blower and plowed through snow that was, by then, melting and wet and heavy. "Heart attack snow," I have always called it, since I saw a neighbour in Ottawa collapse in the middle of a 'big shovel.'

For some reason, the arrival of anow brightens me up, as it brightens up the world outside. The higways become treacherous, or at least the foolish speeders on the highways become treacherous, and the death toll rises. One sees the "benefits" of civilization when nature decides to flex her muscles. What makes us speedy and sharp in fine weather, turns us into uncontrolled missles in the snow and wind.

I slep late this morning (5:30 AM) and so didn't attempt to walk. The plan, at the moment, is (having eating my healthy breakfast)to wait for 8:30, and then snow blow the driveway and sidewalk. Later, after the children have packed down the path to the Middle School where I walk, I'll travel in their footsteps around my walking course.

I am finally drawing near the end of Umberto Eco's book (The Prague Cemetery), which unpacks the hideous anti-semitism in France and Germany in the late 19th century, hinged around the focal point of the Dreyfuss Affair. Dreyfuss was a Captain in the French Army, and was accused of treason because a note he - supposedly - had written about the Jewish plot to take over the army, was given to his superiors. The note was forged by the 'hero' of the novel, and he is implicated in the long struggle Dreyfuss had to clear his name.

Currently, our 'hero' is in the process of draftimg the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a document which documented the Jewish plot to take over the governments of Europe and destroy the Christian religion. These were used to condemn Jewish bankers, merchants and any highly placed person as potential treasonous citizens. They formed the backbone of Hitler's developing anti-semitism in his early years. The Protocols purport to be the notes taken at a clandestine meeting of rabbiis, jewel merchants, etc, in the Prague Cemetery in the middle of the night. Hence the novel's name.

The only thing of Eco's that I have enjoyed was The Name of The Rose. This current novel is a trial. The vitriolic anti-semitism of the characters, and the constant voicing of it, I find demoralizing. It reminds me of the kind of gay-bashing that emergges in the local press periodically - all voiced in the name of 'caring' for the poor misguided sinners.

Well, snow awaits, and I can feel sixteen again while wrestling my machine through the drifts and blink at the snow crystals swirling round my face. I'll be back soon, energized!

The play's the thing!

Took in the local High School musical production last evening: a modified version of Peter Pan. It was wonderfully "high school" - loads of enthusiasm, some modest talent, and a ton of energy expended by the supervising adult making sure that everything went off more or less smoothly. In some ways, the whole story is terribly dated, particularly the mention of North American Indians and their ways. Clearly, in 19th century Scotland, First Nation ways were unknown, but it seemed a jarring note last evening. It was particularly so because three of the young people who portrayed "Indians" in the performance were First Nation kids from nearby reserves. I wondered how they felt about doing those terribly stereotyped roles ("How, white man…"). Did they have a cast discussion about the gross racism in the text, even if it was over a hundred years old?

It was enjoyable, however, although poorly supported by the community. There wasn't even a half-full house. Perhaps the school needs to undertake a bit more advertising in preparation for the event. The RC school put on "Robin Hood" later in the month, and my guess is they'll be strongly supported by their adult community.

Of course, every time I encounter Peter Pan, I trot out the 'family story.' My father's mother was a Barrie from Scotland, one Jemima Barrie. The story is that J.M. Barrie, who wrote Peter Pan, was Jemima's uncle. Therefore, I am related to the famous author of "Neverland!" Naturally, at every opportunity, I tell that story and take as much credit as possible for the play.

Coming back to the social implications of Peter Pan: I imagine such dilemma's arise whenever a school tackles a production that has it's roots in the distant past. What an opportunity to teach and/or discuss the social and political issues just behind the production. St. Augustine's School will be doing "Robin Hood shortly, and will thus have an opportunity to unpack the issues of irresponsible Kingship and the plight of the serfs in ancient England.

I suppose such an idea is hopelessly unrealistic. The drama teacher who supervised the performance last evening has been working flat out for weeks, is exhausted and behind in other work. How could she possibly do what I think is so obvious? Perhaps only a non-teacher could float such an idea. In any case, I had an enjoyable evening. We'll probably see it a second time next weekend, just to give support to the school folk who do all this on their own time.

Causes for Hope?

Saturday morning, and my mind has been stretched, as it was yesterday, Today, by a radio documentary; Friday by a little book by Diarmuid O'Murchu. (I love writing thayt wonderful Irish name!) This morning, I loistened to the hope-filled story of one Ron Knelson, a Calgary artist. Knelson had a troubled childhood, and was addicted to drugs for a good bit of his life. For more than two decades, he was a homeless man on Calgary's streets. Just a few years ago, a collective of Calgary artists ran a program aimed at teasing the creativity out of homeless people, Knelson was given a throw-away Instamatic camera, and began shooting pictures. Time passed…creatively.

At this point, Knelson has photographs displayed in two art galleries, is clean, works part time in the laundry of a homeless shelter, and lives in the only shelter in Canada that has dedicated space for an art studio - in Calgary! Knelson's long-divorced wife has made contact with him, and they have been reconciled. He will soon meet the son he's never seen, and his grandchildren! He's moving to Ottawa with his ex-wife, and hopes to start life over again at the age of 60. Wow!

When your vision is blocked by shadows, and your perspective has become twisted by the actions of the dark side of the "nice" world, you tend to forget that little miracles (Knelson's term) happen and people's lives are redeemed.

O'Murchu - a former priest, long divorced from the formal Catholic Church - writes about contemporary science, its insights, and the many connections that emerge between physical science and theological science.His critique of religion that is organized and patriarchal, is trenchant, even devastating. One thesis he promotes is that organized religion began about 5000 years ago, and promoted a patriarchal and hierarchical god0system that has been at the core of much of the evil that we have done to the planet over the centuries. He reminds us that for over 95% of the history of homo sapiens (over 2,000,000 years) spirituality was much less organized and was focused on living with the planet, who was seen as a warm, embracing, potent and creative female -the Goddess that organized religion has persecuted for centuries.

Now, I can't quite explain why this exhilarates me. O'Murchu seems to believe that the rise of patriarchal religion was an important step in the evolution of the human species, but seems quite certain that the time of organized religion is just about over. Another century or so - perhaps a millennium - and humans will move on to express our profound spirituality in other ways, as we did in the millennial prior to the Agricultural Revolution, about 8000 years ago.

I'm trying to understand why this outlook seems so hopeful to me. O'Murchu makes evolution an ally of "God sense" - the process he describes as' God's way of working,' God being the process itself, and not some "being" outside it. For one thing, his view allows and encourages one to embrace the idea of evolutionary process, rather than deny it or fight it. His view also makes sense of the current sag in organized religion in the west, as well as of the extreme forms of organized religion that arise as defensive maneuvers employed to "keep the faith alive."

I celebrate a much more open feminism in relation to the Divine (I'm never sure what to call this Force now), and a faith more dramatically 'spiritual' and less strictly 'religious.' So here I sit, looking at words which seem to predict the death of a system to which I have committed the most of my life, and I feel hopeful and comforted. Go figure…

Light from the stage

Today, I have a bad case of lethargy. I have tried to start three things, and have ended up looking at the wall each time. I'm deep into two books by Diarmuid O'Murchu, on the relationship between theology and the new and contemporary physics. Sounds heavy, I know, but he is a brilliant writer who unpacks the spiritual significance of the evolutionary process in a masterful way.

I need this kind of intellectual sustenance and forward thinking. Living here in the heart of Alberta's Bible belt, where everything, including religion, is terribly conservative, a breath of fresh theological air is necessary now and then.

I started Umberto Eco's new book, The Prague Cemetery, which I'm having trouble finishing. Eco's writing style isn't my favourite, and his subject (creation of the fictional "Protocol of the Elders of Zion") is distressing in the extreme. His goal is to demonstrate that the virulent anti-Semitism of 2oth century Europe was based on a work of fiction created specifically to encourage and support anti-Semitism. The subject, and most of the characters in his novel, is vile.

I imagine by now that you are wondering if there is any light in my life at the moment. Re-reading above, it doesn't sound like it, does it. Truth to tell, these days I live in a very serious 'world.' But before you give up on me, let me tell you that we have tickets to the local High School's production of Peter Pan on Saturday evening. The scuttlebutt I hear on the street is that the show is hilarious and well done.

A discovery I made a few years ago, while rehearsing for a production of A Christmas Carol in Bashaw, is that small communities all over Alberta have local theatre companies that come together each year to produce one, sometimes two, plays of musicals! Bashaw has a theatre group, Consort produces a dinner theatre, There's the Rosebud theatre further south - they even have a bit of a theatre school in Rosebud! All kinds of unlikely people 'tread the boards' in these little towns, producing their own entertainment and fun during the darkness of winter. Advertising is confined to notices in local papers, posters in the Post Office, and an overwhelming compilation of 'word-of-mouth' boosting. People travel to other towns to see the performance of people 'over there,' and that usually involves up to an hour's drive each way! A local company - "Klaglahachie"- is mounting Fiddler on the Roof next year. I am currently wrestling with the notion of auditioning for the part of Tevye! I have the beard, and I can do the accent. But can I sing well enough, or muster the energy for three months of three or four rehearsals every week? Stay tuned!

Ruminating on theatre activities helps me access many memories of great times backstage in amateur productions, as well as the wonderful feeling of being onstage and giving others pleasure while having a ball while immersing oneself in another character!