Team Preacher

I want to start by saying that I feel like I'm on the verge. Not on edge, like I'm gonna snap or something. On the verge, like on the precipice of something new. I'm excited. I'm scared. I'm intrigued. I don't know what any of this means, but it is my fact of the moment.

Ana and I have been meeting to play around with costume things and we have a couple toys to show the cohort in class today. We have been exploring building structural fabric. It seemed necessary to do when approaching Victorian and Futuristic clothing. I hope you all like it.

As for this week's assignment, I was set in team preacher. I found this intriguing at first because if there is anyone in this cohort that lacks a relationship with a higher being, it's me. Nevertheless, we approached this assignment by first acknowledging the problematic nature of the word "preacher." My concern was that "preacher" is a mix of "prayer" and "teacher". It implies from the get go a didacticism that I think we always want to avoid in our theatre. The preacher leads by telling his congregation what they are doing is wrong. "Reverend", however, comes from the words "reverence" and "respect". The reverend leads by example, acknowledging his faults along with the rest of the congregation's. He/she leads by example and helps the congregation learn things for themselves. This is what I wanted to explore.

I also wanted to avoid the cultural appropriation of one specific type of reverend. It needn't be Methodist, or baptist, etc. It just needed to be reverent. That's why I incorporate "other" ideologies in the introductory "sermon". I'll stop talking now. Here's what I wrote:

Reverend

Life…is a challenge. This, journey that we are on…is a challenge. Finding our purpose on this big floating rock…is a challenge. A challenge clearly placed before us. There is no easy answer. If you are here for answers, you will not receive them here today.

Life is not about the answers. It’s about the questions. It is about the journey. We are born. We live. We die. Those moments, the moments of becoming and the moments of ending, are infinitesimally small moments of this journey. In the Hindu dualistic schools of Vaishnavism this journey is called lila, or playtime. It is God’s playground where his devotees are welcome to just play. Life is play.

A part of this congregation is facing the final ticks of lila’s stopwatch. The journey for the Usher family is coming to an end. I have seen their home and met with Roderick Usher. The home and the Usher line…are in decay.

To the Buddhists, impermanence is one of their essential doctrines. Under this concept, all existence is in constant flux. The only constant is impermanence. We are never certain about the length of this journey, the time constraints of our lila. The only certainty is uncertainty.

Living without certainty leaves room for innumerable surprises. Joy! Fear! Wonder! Sorrow. Each surprise is neither fully good nor fully bad.

When our playtime, or a loved one’s playtime, is cut short we experience grief in what Elisabeth Kübler-Ross calls stages.

We experience denial: It’s not ending. We have more time.
We experience anger: It can’t end! It’s not fair!
We experience bargaining: What can I do to prolong playtime?
We experience depression: It really is ending. Why bother anymore?
And finally, we find acceptance: It is going to be okay.

Yet, Roderick is stuck in denial. He will not accept impermanence. He will not acknowledge the termination of lila. He is disintegrating and he needs our help.

The word “church” comes from the Greek word ekklesia. It means “assembly” or “called-out ones.” Church is the people, not the building. We are being called out. This church is being called out. And we must respond to the call. We must step up.

Who in this congregation will step up to the plate? Who among us will offer a shoulder for Roderick to lean upon, a reminder of the fun had, assistance with the burden that the Ushers bear?