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IRev It Up... |
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I think I know why Harry Potter works. Well, besides the fact that the characters have great names, and the saving of the world falls to the young (and the orphaned at that), and good and evil battle in delightfully creative ways that let you hang on to a little of the past a little bit longer, that is. Harry Potter works because you have to wait for it. J.K. Rowling is the world’s richest writer because she made the most of the art of waiting, and brought us all into the game with her. It simply gets better the longer you have to go without, and that midnight release moment is almost sweeter than you can handle, all of you together in one place, waiting for that familiar brilliance and thrill. It’s the same reason Sweet Land has been one of the sleeper movies of the year. Moving languidly through your senses, it draws you into the slow rolling anguish of the immigrant couple, he Scandinavian, she shockingly German, waiting out the bile of prejudice in Minnesota a hundred years ago, waiting for the blessing of the community to marry. That final invitation of hers to him, after all those years, that one simple word whispered at the top of the stairs, risking all, after all has already been risked and gained and lost, that one simple “Come” when before there was only “Stop”, is the most erotic moment you may ever witness, and you witness nothing at all. Absolutely nothing at all. And it’s the same reason hearing Cowboy Junkies downtown at the Orpheum last night puts music in your head that is still there the next morning at dawn. For twenty years they have been making pure music that defies all genres – part rock, part country, part blues – and all I can say is they are the singers of the psalms of our day, psalms of lament, psalms of praise. They captivate and energize you, and the cleansing lasts and lasts, and they do it without gestures or gyrations, dressed modestly, speaking softly, understating everything about themselves and the music until you nearly fall off your chair, leaning forward for more that way. It is the art of understatement I am talking about here. It is the joy of delayed gratification that has become so counter-cultural in our time. It is less is more. It is what can stop the madness if we let it. A generation ago now the psychiatrist Gerald May broke ground by pointing out the obvious: we are all addicted to something. Our brains are wired to form habits, and habits, unchecked, become obsessions, and obsessions, unbridled, generate a dark power all their own, and will stop at nothing until all is dead and gone. If you are doubting the veracity of his claim, try this: think of something you believe you are not addicted to – say your morning routine – and stop it right this second. Just stop it. Never do it again. Starting now. Not tomorrow. Now. Standing as a shining antidote to our proclivity for over-indulgence, the art of understatement may be one of the few things that can restore to us our joy. If nothing else, this is one reason to consider coming to church. There is a lot of waiting in church. There is a lot of unrealized promise going on there. We wait for the kingdom to come in. We wait for the river of life to flow through the new city. We live with the promise of mercy. We hold up for ourselves the possibility of compassion. We lay the foundation for a just peace and wait for the walls to rise. We sow the seeds of plenitude and abundance and wait for the harvest to ripen. We wait to hear a word of good news, and the snippets we get from preachers and singers and children and the dying are almost enough to keep us going for more than a week at a time. Sometimes nothing happens in church for a very long time. And then you find yourself straining forward, leaning over the balcony rail, cupping your ear to catch the whisper at the top of the stairs, because you have been waiting so long, and the moment is here, and you want the sweetness that is to come almost more than you can bear. Church is the one place you can count on finding the antidote to the madness of more. It is the one place you can trust to offer you a different way, and a different story to teach your children. It is the one place you can hear that waiting may be the way to the good life after all. When the world tells you that you need more money and more stuff and more sex and more excitement and more adventure and you need it all right now, church will tell you that restraint and sharing and sacrifice and sacrament and modesty will bring you more life. When the world tells you that war is inevitable, church will tell you it is simply an addiction like everything else. When the world tells you that you cannot live without oil, church will tell you that it is each other you cannot live without, no matter what the country of your origin. When the world tells you that you will die if you don’t listen to it, church tells you that you will die if you do. But then, if you are a fan of Harry Potter or Sweet Land or Cowboy Junkies or The Book of Psalms, you already know all this. I’m just preaching to the choir, aren’t I? See you in church Sunday, where less is more and death becomes life after all. May you stop sometime today and listen for whispers on the wind. |
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602 Mitchell Drive ● Alcester, SD 57001-0229 ● Phone: 605.934.2341 |
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Church e-mail: alcesterucc@alliancecom.net |
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Webmaster: parapub@iw.net |
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Entire contents © Copyright 2007 Alcester United Church of Christ |
Reflections
on Faith and Life