Re-imagining the lost art of Intercession

This is absolutely fascinating.  I am re-reading a book called Descent Into Hell, which I read in a class in High School called Inklings.  The book is by Charles Williams, a member of the writing group with C.S. Lewis and J.R.R Tolkien.  I have described Descent Into Hell a bit in the last post but I would like to elaborate on some findings in one particular chapter.  Williams actually talks about intercession!

Here I have quoted an exact passage in which the Christ-figure, Stanhope, speaks with Pauline, who is struggling with fear:

“Haven’t you heard it said that we ought to bear one another’s burdens?”

“But that means—“ she began, and stopped.

“I know,” Stanhope said.  It means listening sympathetically, and thinking unselfishly, and being anxious about, and so on.  Well, I don’t say a word against all that; no doubt it helps.  But I think when Christ or St. Paul, or whoever said bear, or whatever he Aramaically said instead of bear, he meant something much more like carrying a parcel instead of something else.  To bear a burden is precisely to carry it instead of.  If you’re still carrying yours, I’m not carrying it for you—however sympathetic I may be” (98).

Pause for a second and take that in.  Bearing one another’s burdens is something that can actually be done in a tangible form!  This, I believe, is part of the definition of intercession.  Even though, even after spending a year at International House of Prayer University, I do not think that or anything I have ever experienced can come close to truly defining it.  Christ is our true example, as I will get into in a minute.  But actually physically bearing someone else’s pain?!  Reese Howells, I believe, came close when he did everything the person he was interceding for did, including laying on the cold, hard ground.  Can we even imagine?

Williams goes on…

Stanhope insists this is actually a law of the universe!  He declares, “But I’m sure this is a law of the universe, and not to give up your parcel is as much rebel as not to carry another’s” (99).

It clicked for me.  We always have good feelings when we help someone.  If anything, it gets our minds off of our own problems for a little while.  Instead of analyzing this as many people do and finally giving up on doing good (at least, intellectually for a while) because we see no good motive in us, let us think for a moment.  Why do we feel good when we do good?  Because this was what we were created for!  It is actually a law of the universe “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  I think there is much more to this that I still need to ponder for a while.

Furthermore, Christ is our great intercessor.  Hebrews 2:17-18 says, “Therefore he had to be made like his brother in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.  For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.”

The writer of Hebrews goes on to say “he always lives to make intercession for them” (7:25).  It is a once and for all intercession that was made.  He is also eternally the lamb who was slain, as Revelation describes, eternally interceding for us (Rev. 5:6, 7:10, 7:17).  We can gaze upon the cross not as a past incident alone, but an ever present reality.

I love the depth of understanding Williams gives me about these passages of Scripture!  He even, in his own way, describes our part when Christ intercedes for us.  He does this by having Stanhope tell Pauline what to do:

“When you are alone” he said, “remember that I am afraid instead of you, and that I have taken over every kind of worry.  Think merely that; say to yourself—‘he is being worried,’ and go on.  Remember it is mine.  If you do not see it, well; if you do, you will not be afraid” (99).

This is such a clear way of looking at grace!  It is always there.  But we have to apply it.  This is why we take communion.  We must remind ourselves that Jesus has born and is bearing our burdens!  For those of you who are not Christians, this is why we sing those songs about Christ’s death and resurrection.  It isn’t because we’re trying to convince ourselves it’s true.  It is true whether we believe it or not.  We just have to remind ourselves again.

Williams goes on to describe in detail what his intercession or substituted love or bearing her burden was actually like.  He actually imagined the situation of which she was afraid and took on the fear.  It says, “The burden was inevitably lighter for him than for her, for the rage of personal resentment was lacking.  He endured her sensitiveness, but not her sin; the substitution there, if indeed there is a substitution, is hidden in the central mystery of Christendom which Christendom itself has never understood, nor can” (101).

This truth of which Williams speaks is validated in Scripture.  “He who knew no sin became sin for us” (2 Corinthians 5:21).  He remained sinless but he bore our sin.  I believe that is the paradox of which Charles Williams seeks to describe.

Christ is our true intercessor but we should strive to be like him in bearing each other’s burdens.  As Williams illustrated, Paul’s command in Galatians 6 to “bear one another’s burdens” can be taken quite literally.  We can even ask the Lord for someone else’s burden, to bear their pain so that they don’t have to suffer it.  Christ is the true Intercessor in that through his body he bore every pain, burden, and suffering and will eternally be the Lamb who was slain. 

Practically, what can we take away from this?  We can acknowledge, as Pauline did, that our burden has already been taken from us.  As intercessors, we can go to a deeper place of intercession and imagine the difficulty of the people we are praying for and, in that sense, ask the Lord to help us carry it for them.  Charles Williams illustrated well some important Biblical truths and opened my own heart up to the possibilities we can reach if we only re-imagined intercession.

Re-discovering and Re-imagining the Lost Art of Theatre

A note from the writer: I am starting a new “series” of blog posts I suppose called “Re-discovering and re-imaging the lost arts.”  Because of this, I may be writing 2 to 3 blogs a week.  I hope this is a consistent venture in my attempts to become a better a writer and communicator.  As such, I would appreciate any feedback (be it good or bad).

           

RE-DISCOVERING AND RE-IMAGINING THE LOST ART OF THEATRE

            What are lost arts in this world that we live in?  Letter writing.  Conversation.  Eye contact.  And, I believe, Theatre.

            When I went to the Sojourn Institute I had a conversation with a girl where I truthfully said, “I never saw Into the Wild.”  I really do not go to the movies that much.  If it’s a play though, my interest is peaked.  Her reaction was a first to me.  She also had never seen it.  I felt through the conversation that she gave me permission to think that seeing movies is not the height of cultural experience.

            Truth be told, how many of us have been passionate about something that is not a cultural norm and decided not to pursue it to its fullest because we thought we were ‘weird’?  Or how many of us have labeled ourselves weird because we like that thing?  (Or maybe we like it but we have not exactly figured out what our “niche” in it actually is and don’t want to pursue it further because we think we suck at it and we’re afraid to try.  Ok, just me? ;)

            As I pondered this phenomenon I was struck by my desire to help others to understand my passion for theatre better.  At Sojourn we played a game called “I am from…”  It helps me to categorize what I think theatre should be.

            “I am from…” theatre that involves the audience, Shakespeare, devised works, works created by both a theatre company and a non-arts community, going to see a show on a Friday night instead of a movie, movies made out of plays, shelling out money for a play is ok, shelling out money for a movie is like pulling teeth, in-the moment moments, musicals that don’t end upbeat, Jason Robert Brown, realism, the a-typical musical, acting that is pretending, crying when the lights are low.

            What I have encountered from my peers and popular culture on the subject of theatre: “I am from…” theatre is something I can appreciate but am generally dragged to, theatre is box-office musicals like Annie and Wicked, theatre only happens in the Theater, theatre is text driven therefore it is boring, I don’t understand Shakespeare, theatre is not marketable, theatre is Disney, theatre is pretending, anyone can act, theatre is crying on cue, dance monkey dance!

            Because theatre (at least my theatre) has been lost in popular culture, I have decided learn to translate what I mean by theatre to the world, trying to close the great chasm between these two “I am froms…” Knowing how different I conceive theatre from other people, how can I not only co-exist but thrive by teaching those who are interested in the lost art of theatre?

            To start with, we need to learn how to re-discover theatre in everyday life.  The reason I say “re-discover” is that like finding an ancient artifact, the classics and the basic framework of the theatre we know today has it’s place and needs to be recognized in the broader cultural sphere.  [For instance, don’t get me started on Shakespeare and how simple it was meant to be (kind of like reading your Bible).]  I can list a few successful examples of this: the TV show Glee (I believe), some pretty awesome High School teachers all across the country instilling love for theatre in the youth, and my Shakespeare professor in college.

            Another thing to continue with, especially as an artist, is re-imagining theatre.  It’s the basics of problem solving: when something doesn’t work one way anymore, try another way!  Even theatre itself needs to continue to re-exert her imagination to discover possibilities.  One of those possibilities is how she can be recognized in a wider cultural sphere.  Here’s a couple successful examples (some are not simply theatre but they are still good examples): Sojourn’s Built, Prison Performing Arts shows, Waste Land (documentary about Brazilian turned New Yorker going home and doing art with Brazilians).

            I think one major obstacle to overcome is pride.  If the artist is willing to let go of his ego for the betterment of others, he can go far.  It’s when he sits in his ivory tower of “theatre” and refuses to translate that these chasms of cultural divides deepen.  For instance, I recently watched a documentary called Waste Land about an artist leaving the states for 3 years and living in Brazil to work on an art project in the largest land fill in the world.  He is a Brazilian artist who grew up in Sao Paulo but made his fame and fortune at art in New York.  The movie is brilliant and I highly recommend it.  Yet I feel even in the movie that he put himself on display for the world to see and say, “Yes, this is a good man.”

            The point is that even when we try to “help” the world experience art, we sort of are putting ourselves on this pedestal as artists saying, “we know art.  You don’t.  Therefore we are going to help you.” 

            The solution to pride is humility.  Humility is coming under someone and saying, “I know this.  What do you know?  Oh, I didn’t know you know what I know.  Let’s move forward.”  You may discover that you have nothing to offer in the world’s terms of assets!  You may discover, after all, that the person admits you do have something he doesn’t that you need.  But don’t start but telling him what he needs and what you have.  Start by asking.  Start by listening.

            What do I personally get out of all of this?  Please allow some introspection for a moment.  I am somehow caught between two opposite poles: I’m neither the witty intellectual who knows he’s smart nor the person who doesn’t have a clue.  I’m not satisfied with mere “normal” conversation and stupid jokes don’t make me laugh.  Yet I can’t return wit most of the time.  I only recognize when it’s there.  Sarcasm is not my strong point.  I’m too genuine.  However, I long to be amongst people who think deeply.  Not philosophers for the heck of it.  Not hypothesizing new ways of existing or adding to the Scriptures.  But hypothesizing how we could view the truth in our everyday life. 

            Charles Williams, for instance, in his book Descent Into Hell, imagines a world where death is the catalyst of everything.  Though not too far off from our own world, it is much more of an introspective world.  There are those who know they are going to Heaven and there are those who don’t know they are going to Hell.  The way one character thinks is a metaphor for life itself!  Names are symbols.  Nothing is ordinary.

            I’m after a theatre world like that!  One with complexity but meaning, obscurity but truth—theatre of the absurd with a point to existence—new forms that allow old forms to not only exist but thrive—new understanding of our roles within theatre—new understanding of the culture of theatre that allows for a broader audience—a more generous theatre—a theatre that is defined by those who care about not just the $30 ticketholder but also the “groundling.”  In these things we can both learn from the past and press forward to brand new reality in the lost of art of theatre.