Don't Speak

There's a wonderful line in the movie and Broadway play "Bullets over Broadway". Whenever the young writer, played by John Cusack, tries to express his infatuation with the veteran movie actress (Diane Wiest), she pushes her hand into his face, smushing his eyeglasses, and blocks him mouth. She says this while melodramatically saying "Don't speak. Don't speak! Don't speak."

You may notice that there are times when I don't post things to my blog. It's not that I have little to say. I think most people are shocked whenever I express such a thought. No, I'm simply in a mode of listening rather than speaking, of tuning in rather than merely hearing.

Listening isn't the same thing as hearing after all. You have the sense of hearing at all times, even in your sleep. You may not be responding on a conscious level, but the ear drums are responding and the brain is detecting auditory signals. But you're not listening by default.

To listen is to take in the sounds and to incorporate them into your active mind. You may be processing, remembering, reacting, or all three. When I listen, I'm surprised at times with what I have been hearing, with what I was not processing just moments ago, not remembering, not reacting.

And life sometimes moves us in a direction where we're so knocked around that we don't have the mental legroom to go the extra mile and actually listen to what our ears are telling us. We're busy planning, judging, and explaining.

So sometimes, when I feel as though I've reached a point of saturation, I realize that I might not actually be listening.

And listening isn't just with our ears. Have you ever clanged a gong, a glass, a bell and listened to the resonating sound? Have you done so while holding that object? You may notice that the object continues to vibrate, well past the moment that you stopped hearing the sound.

Our bodies feel things, hear things, grasp things without our ears. All our senses contribute to our ability to take in the external world. Our cerebral mind may be too busy to cope with all that input, so it filters out things that it deems extraneous. Feedback that might be redundant. Sounds that might be irrelevant. Sights that might be unremarkable.

So with our entire physical being, we go through life not "listening to what we hear". Or, perhaps it's not "noticing what we our senses have found".

And in those times I feel overwhelmed, I pause and breathe. I walk. I dispel the words coming out of my mouth that block me from listening to the rhythms of life, from seeing the child of God before me, from feeling the heartbeat of the Holy Spirit.

And I kick myself off my comfortable place, sit perched and alert, watch, listen, feel.

And I don't speak.



http://letallwhoarethirstycome.com/2016/01/dont-speak.html

It's not Kinky

Yesterday was the Transgender Day of Remembrance. It utterly amazes me that people have so much fear of sexual diversity. More specifically, it shocks and disgusts me when weekly you read about another gay bashing or assault if not murder of a transgender person.

On top of that, I found it ironic and embarrassing that an individual who made the news yesterday was called a "former man". The person, made famous because of a purported relationship with Olympic athlete Michael Phelps, apparently was born intersex, but even today half the media reported that she was born male. The lack of understanding not only runs deep, but it almost smacks of resistance to understand biology and denial of the existence of intersex people.

Even in supposedly progressive times and communities, such errors are widespread. How do we ask people to understand that it's not a sin to be born a certain way, that it's not a sin to be raised a certain way by your parents and family, that it's not a sin to discover that God's plans for you are to live your life as intended, not in a false, error-laden, bullied way? We do so by reminding them that life is diverse and multi-hued.

My clothes, shoes, music, and books vary tremendously. I gain so much more when the things that inform me and the items that represent me are as varied as my moods and my interests. Likewise, we as a people are so much better off if we respect the variety around us and not try to pigeon hole people into shoes that don't fit.

Tonight, I watch the play Kinky Boots at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood. I first saw the musical on the big screen and then on stage on Broadway. It was delightful and magical. It showed that all people can make assumptions about others, both good and bad, something that we all can do on any given day. What makes the show so enjoyable is that what is superficially considered kinky and unusual does in fact offer appealing attributes that are both challenges and opportunities for those who look beyond the surface.

That's what makes life so special to me. If we look beyond our own limitations, our own blinders and biases, we can find a world out there that enriches, and a world inside of us that enlivens. It's knowing that we can be both unusual AND essential that allows us to express our humanity in a more honest and purposeful way.

Those of us born with unusual characteristics can't choose the cross they've been given, but all of us can choose to affirm so-called kinky if that's what it means to be honest and alive.

Synthesis. Musicals in time for Lent

I'm only a cock-eyed optimist

Sorry to throw out lyrics from Dick and Oscar, but it certainly was a weekend that I can only describe as affirming. I didn't expressly select plays that somehow made me think of faith, but perhaps it was my subconscious at work. With Lent rapidly approaching, I had no idea that I was buying Broadway tickets that would certainly give me something to think about during this annual fast.

(And certainly I have a tendency to make comparisons where none ought ever be made, so forgive me if I make my contrast too oddly. Or gush. I am a theater queen I admit.)

I went to the Great White Way this weekend and saw "Billy Elliot", "Altar Boyz" and "In the Heights". Not as overwhelming as seeing 7 plays in 5 days with my nephews in London back in 2007, but still pretty intense.

It turns out that these three musicals will give me plenty to think about during this Lenten season. Now I had seen Billy Elliot during that 2007 trip, but had not seen the New York production. The other two plays were new to me, with "In the Heights" a particular concern, since I feared that it would be Rent-redux and far outside my musical tastes.

Thank heavens God intricates his love in the oddest of ways.

Let's go in sequence. I first saw Billy Elliot the movie in 2000 when it was released. I easily connected to the story because I lived in the UK during the 1980s miner strike. Maggie Thatcher was the most polarizing leader I had ever watched, well, until recent years.

This New York musical closely resembled the London offering. It inspired because, to me, it connected to us most strongly when it asserted that
a) God-given gifts must be nourished
b) we must be attentive to God's signs, even in the most unlikely of places
c) it is possible to rise above circumstances that even Job would think worse than his own

For Saturday's matinee, I saw Altar Boyz, which was an amusing satire on boys band. In this situation, we watched a Roman Catholic boy band work its Christian rock magic. It was a surprising delight. The music wasn't challenging, but it was a toe-tapping pleasure. With the talented dancing, you got a good show, good music and cute actors; hey off-Broadway knows how to sell seats.

Altar Boyz was amazingly respectful of religion. Atheists may have watched it as an entirely mocking work, but in no way at all did it actually ever insult faith. These characters sincerely believed and wanted, in their own way. to evangelicize. Matthew was a strong leader, Mark was a loving talent, Luke was the faulty everyman who tries and tries, Juan was a starry-eyed Lothario, and Abraham, well, he's the Jew who wrote great lyrics. How Broadway can you get?

I found the play encouraging because
a) it showed that God works the youth, even with fun-though-slightly-insipid boy-band music
b) I could relate to one of its story lines, that of the "closet Catholic"
c) we saw the bonding strength of Christian community and family.

Lastly on Saturday night, I saw "In the Heights". This was an amazing musical. Its tagline is "No pare, no pare, sigue, sigue", which roughly translates to "don't stop, go on, go on".

Now that's gotta be the most hopeful Broadway tagline I've ever seen.Perhaps that's because it started off-broadway. Or that it's very Mundial Latino. There has not, in my recollection, ever been as diverse a cast, save the United Nations scene in the 1960s campy Batman the Movie.

This play had a song called "Pacencia y Fe" (Patience and Faith). It heroicized family, courage in the face of adversity, community, faith, hope,... I don't know where to stop without this sounding like one of Father Ed's sermons. I was "Epiphing" for almost 3 hours straight.

And I cried. I cried because the sentimental book did not seem a weakness to me. No, it affirmed to me why I believe in the first place.

"In the Heights" asserted
a) bravery, quiet or otherwise, will arise BECAUSE we believe and hope
b) all people, great or small, still aspire and should aspire to the heavens
c) we cannot learn on our own, but depend on the dreams, mistakes and love of those who preceeded us

Perhaps I'm writing this as a part of my Lenten exercises. But I have to wonder what made this weekend so moving to me.

I think it's because I started with a play that said "Life sucks. Maybe if God gave you a gift, your family and community will stand behind you, and you can escape. And thank heavens, because every one will be out of work for hundreds of miles in the next two years."

I love Billy Elliot. But in context with this weekend, it's somehow profoundly inadequate. What Grace did God have for the miners? He gave them an example of love and community, so that their souls could rise about their circumstances. But their earthly toils were not only dangerous, but unneeded. Turn your attention to the miners' plight (which is easy given this country's current economic meltdown), and you realize this play works only when you focus on Billy himself.

Altar Boyz also emphasized a tight-knit family, in the form of a boy band. It wasn't deep by any means. Nevertheless, the sincerely loving faith was notable.

So was the desire to spread His word.And of all things, the closet-Catholic song closely resembled my own faith issues. I spurned the Roman Catholic church of my family because it did not welcome me. It loved me as a sinner, but could not countenance me living out the life that God had set for me.

So I went into the closet. Not as a gay young man. As a person of faith. I cry every time I think of this. I cry whenever I hear of others who were so hurt by their Christian communities that they find Christ and his message at fault. It was an amazing rebirth for me to discover that God did not plague me as a subset of Mankind unworthy of his Grace, God did not challenge me with an impossible test where the only way to succeed was through constant deception (self and otherwise). God made me in his image and challenged me to spread his word of unfailing love an Grace.

And those Altar Boyz, faulty and amusing to my generation as they are, well, they are sincere in their love of God. Who's to say that the classical and jazz Christian music I sing is better than theirs? They did magic on the soul! If the point is to touch, to nurture, to salve broken hearts, then good grief, the play made its point.

But the focus of Altar Boyz and Billy Elliot was very much about the ego. "In the Heights" was the last play I saw, and it filled the gaps that the other two plays left untouched.

It yells out "Ego schmego". It's not a bad thing to have, but a person's ego can only get them so far. You'll be a big shot in your world, though it's a world that only barely covers a subway map. But instead, by using your gifts, using God's gifts, using the love and strength of a family and a community, you'll be surprised at how much stronger, happier, and satisfying your life will be.

It's a point that far exceeds the first two plays. Perhaps because the author was the, in his words, "the only begotten son of a minister and a church organist". In terms of a satisfying arc of faith and hope, of what Lent teaches us as we approach Easter, it was pretty bitchin.

So, despite my naive, touristy and unsuspecting plans, I had a weekend of Epiphing in the Big Apple. May my Lenten fast and volunteerism at the homeless shelter add to my growth. And I pray that the Lord strengthen in me a little more of that toe-tapping, God-loving, can't-shake-my-faith cock-eyed optimism of life everlasting that all of us are Graced to deserve.

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