Michelle's Musings - Musing on What Matters
Early in March, the Diocese invited clergy to attend a performance of Bach's Passion of St. John, performed by the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and the Mendelssohn Choir. The music was beautiful. There were instruments there from Bach's time, including a harpsichord. The sound was perfectly balanced so that no one part - voices, instruments, soloist - overpowered the others. It's been a while since I've been to any symphony concert, and this was spectacular.
Literally.
For those who aren't familiar with this work, the Passion of St. John is a little bit of what it sounds like: Bach's musical interpretation of the story of Jesus's last day and death (passion), as told in the Gospel of John (18:1 - 19:42). In his work, Bach included a narrator who sung the actual Gospel story (in German), much like we read it in church on Good Friday. But the story also inspired him to write musical pieces reflecting the action - dialogues between Jesus and Pilate, for example, or the chorus of the crowds angry shouting.
This is nothing new. The Gospel story has been inspiring art for centuries, millennia, even. Before Jesus walked the earth, the Greeks wrote dramas about their gods. In fact, our English words like "music" and "musing" (and thus the name for my column) derive from the Greek muses, whom the Greeks believed inspired the arts. Before the Greeks, the ancient Hebrews wrote psalms which put music to their prayers, their history, and their teachings.
In most cases, these efforts sought to make the religions relevant for the contemporary audience. Bach, for example, wrote his piece in German. His crowd scenes sound angry, loud, and disjointed, with people singing at different times, like a confused crowd.
The Symphony took it one step further. In addition to singing and playing Bach's piece, they added "choreography." While the chorus was shouting "Crucify him," they pumped fists in the air. When Jesus was taken to trial, two singers literally walked him offstage. On one side of the stage, singers acted out the action, sometimes with a more modern spin (at one point, Jesus was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit). On the other side of the stage, singers played out some of the arias, where Bach described his own feelings about the crucifixion - about the sinfulness of humanity and the horror of Christ's wounds.
For a while it was interesting, or curious. How might one recreate the passion story in today's world? What would make it relevant today?
But, I have to say, I took issue with the Symphony's rendition. Not the music, just the choreography. Because, at the crucial moment before the death of Jesus, the choreographer rewrote the script. Rather than have Jesus die alone on the cross, the Symphony's version had members of the crowd trying to shield him from bullets fired by the temple guards.
This is more than the classical debate about "whether a classic story can be told in a different way." As a former academic, I've heard that story - every time someone stages a Shakespeare play as if it was taking place in the 1930's, or a Greek tragedy as a futuristic space odyssey. But, in changing Jesus's death, they have destroyed the meaning of the death - they have tinkered with theology. The way Jesus died is important.
It's important that Jesus died alone for two reasons. First, because it reminds us that Jesus suffered everything that we suffered. When we feel hurt, and abandoned, we know that Christ felt that, too. On the cross, Jesus cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" How often have we felt the same way? Of course, when Jesus says it, he is perhaps recalling psalm 22, which recounts the history of God's care in our lives. The psalm is a reminder that even when humanity may abandon us, God has shown steadfast love. It also speaks of the ways in which God is present, even when we don't sense it. These two characteristics of God were at the crucifixion, too, though not in the depiction I saw.
I also took issue with the choreographed crucifixion because it downplays the betrayal. At the end, eleven disciples ran away from Jesus; only John was there, along with Mary and the other women. Jesus suffered, not only physically, but emotionally. He was abandoned, not only by the crowds of people who listened to his teachings, but even by his closest friends. The choreography took away from that. But, again, I think it's important. Though the disciples may have abandoned Jesus, he did not abandon them. On Easter, he appears to them, and tells them not to be afraid. His presence with them after his resurrection reminds us that there is nothing that we can do that will make Jesus stop loving us.
What we believe about Jesus, and about God, matters. This is why the clergy and others at St. Paul's devote so much time to formation - to teaching the faith and encouraging the various ways in which we live out our faith. An strong formation is like the foundation of a house - able to withstand storms when they come. To remind us that - no matter what life may throw at us - we are not alone. Just as Jesus was.
Tags: Messenger March 2016 / Clergy Voices