'Til We Reach That Day

Last weekend Rebecca and I had the opportunity to experience the WordPlayers production of Ragtime in Knoxville.  It was the first of two weekends of the performance, and I would highly recommend taking time to get out to the Clayton Center for the Arts at Maryville College to see the production July 27 and 28.

With a cast of talent assembled from throughout east Tennessee, this regional premiere of Ragtime tells the story of a decade of American history leading up to World War I, a time of failing institutions, increased immigration, racial prejudice and tension in families and the broader culture (Read more from the Knoxville News Sentinel).

Leann Dickson, Director

Now I must admit my own prejudice to this musical, as it was directed by my high school drama teacher, Leann Dickson and my former piano teacher Jana Stiles is the lead keyboard player.  With that said, however, I cannot speak highly enough of the talented cast, the clear sense of focus for the production, and the impact it made on the audience.  From the musical performances (and most of the show is sung), to the lighting, costuming, sound quality, and purposeful direction, this show rivaled any other production I have seen.  In a time when we have ritualized standing ovations for almost every kind of performance, people were on there feet here as soon as the final lights faded from the set, a spontaneous outpouring of gratitude for the gift we received as those who attended that evening.

I could highlight the individual performances by a cast of many talented people, but what struck me most about the production was that this show was not about any one person.  Whereas so much of our entertainment industry is about celebrity, the cast and crew of Ragtime displayed their commitment to the message they wanted to make, to tell the story they needed to tell.

The plot follows three families, one an upper class white family in New Rochelle, New York, who become involved in the life of an African-American couple and their young son, and finally a Jewish immigrant from Latvia who is seeking a new start with his daughter.  Intermingled throughout the story are appearances by Henry Ford, Harry Houduini, Booker T. Washington, and Emma Goldman among others.

We see and hear throughout the musical how the world of clear barriers, societal assumptions, and clearly defined family roles is falling apart and being reassembled in new ways, ways some of the cast can accept and in ways others cannot.  The story is inspiring, painful, and full of hope.

Instead of offering a traditional review, however, I want to ponder two questions:
1)  Why is a Christian theatre company putting on this secular play about America in the 1910s?
2)  Why are they doing this play now?

I can only offer my opinions based on what I saw onstage, but I believe there are themes of this story that speak to Christian people.  Primarily the theme of justice stands clearly in the center of the story.  In America, which is supposed to be the land of opportunity, why are immigrants treated as less than human?  African-Americans as second class citizens?  Women as merely silent arm candy for their husbands? 

There are injustices exposed throughout the tale, and its tragic ending alerts the audience that justice is something we are always striving toward, even though it may seem almost impossible to realize.

Much of the Old Testament in our scriptures deals with the theme of justice.  From the establishment of the law of Mt. Sinai, to the days of the kings and prophets, the God of Israel declares himself to be a God of justice.  Before God, all are to be treated equally and wealth or status in the community should not grant someone favoritism others.  The prophets continually call out to leaders of the people who are using their resources for their own gain or abusing their positions of power.

God's justice deals with welcoming the alien, "Any immigrant who lives with you must be treated as if they were one of your citizens. You must love them as yourself, because you were immigrants in the land of Egypt; I am the Lord your God" (Lev. 19:34, CEB).


God's justice deals with caring for the poor, 
"Is this the kind of fast I choose,
    a day of self-affliction,
    of bending one’s head like a reed
    and of lying down in mourning clothing and ashes?
    Is this what you call a fast,
        a day acceptable to the Lord?

Isn’t this the fast I choose:
    releasing wicked restraints, untying the ropes of a yoke,
    setting free the mistreated,
    and breaking every yoke?  Isn’t it sharing your bread with the hungry
    and bringing the homeless poor into your house,
    covering the naked when you see them,
    and not hiding from your own family?" (Isa. 58:5-7).

And lest we think that only the Hebrew people are to be concerned with justice, Jesus himself declares at the beginning of his ministry, using words from the prophet Isaiah, "The Lord’s Spirit has come to me, because he has chosen me to tell the good news to the poor.  The Lord has sent me to announce freedom for prisoners, to give sight to the blind, to free everyone who suffers, and to say, ‘This is the year the Lord has chosen.’” Jesus closed the book, then handed it back to the man in charge and sat down. Everyone in the meeting place looked straight at Jesus. Then Jesus said to them, “What you have just heard me read has come true today.” (Luke 4:18-21).


Obviously the creative team of the WordPlayers could see the biblical mandate for justice, and they chose to tell this story of a particular time in American history to stir in our hearts what it means to be people who care for justice.


And that leads to my second question: Why do this play now?


I think, similarly to the 1910s, we live in a time of institutional destruction.  We are seeing huge failings in the church, education, family, government, and industry as old ways to doing our business no longer seem to work properly.  We also live in a time of increased immigration, unmatched since the time period in which this musical is set, though our immigrant community tends to be from south of us or India or the Middle East as opposed to eastern Europeans.  We live in a time where many wish to turn inward and respond in anger and fear of the unknown, to stay in the safety of their known group instead of reaching out to touch the stranger, to welcome the new-comer, to admit our own prejudices and seek a new way.


But that's what justice, as people who seek to follow God's written word and God's living Word, is all about.  


The first act of the musical ends in a heart-crushing loss for the main character Coalhouse, and the act concludes with a song, "Till We Reach That Day."  


There's a day of hope
May I live to see,
When our hearts are happy
And our souls are free.
Let the new day dawn,
Oh, Lord, I pray.
We'll never get to heaven
Till we reach that day.

It's a day of peace.
A day of pride.
A day of justice
We have been denied.
Where a man can live,
And a child can play.
We'll never get to heaven
Till we reach that day.

In those words are the very heart of the gospel, and in those words are a timely message for all who would declare that they follow a Lord who died for God's love and justice that the world could not accept.  May we be inspired to "do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly," with our God (Micah 6:8).

July Eldertorial: Jimmy Hodges

The following post is the Eldertorial featured in our church newsletter, the Amen Almanac, for July.  Each month, one of our Elders (those called by God and the congregation to guide our spiritual life together) writes a reflection on ways they see God at work in the world.

Religious Tolerances

Most folks reared in Appalachia in the early and mid-20th century as good and faithful inerrant Protestants had only limited ties to other religious groups. We were mostly of Scot-Irish and German descent and most of us never walked into a Jewish synagogue, a Greek Orthodox Church, or a Catholic cathedral.


For some fortunate quirk of fate, I was one of handful of Protestant children who had the opportunity to grow up in a small neighborhood of Park City in Knoxville where we Protestants were a minority. A breakdown of the various religions of the 22 families in the neighborhood would be 7 Jewish families, 8 Catholic families, 2 Greek Orthodox families, one Baptist family and the remaining few either Presbyterian or Methodists. My grandmother had little formal education, but she was most humble and loving of others, regardless of their ethnicity or religion. She taught me early on that Protestants were a very small minority group in the world and that, while we had faith and assurances that our religious doctrine was correct, we still had to be tolerant of others who also believed their religions ideas were correct. Therefore, my family often went to midnight mass at Christmas time and on occasion attended circumcision rites held in homes of our Jewish neighbors as invited guests.

While we neighbors all helped each other in times of hardships or losses, we also had our moments of conflict which added local color to the neighborhood. My Catholic neighbors could not eat fish on Fridays, and I loved to bring Blue Circle hamburgers to their front porches and boldly sit and wash them down with a small Coke and a Moon Pie, knowing they secretly wished they could partake of my feast. On St. Patrick’s Day the neighborhood would liven up when the Irish retired railroad conductor, Mr. Wellahan, became inebriated and dressed as a Leprechaun, which led Mrs. Busch, the immigrant Russian Jewish lady, to vent in her heavily accented English sprinkled with White Russian about the ills of strong spirits. I grew up listening to Mrs. Busch’s stories of carrying her two sons out of Russia on her back during the 1917 Russian Revolution. Harold Shersky, our Jewish neighbor next door, ran what came to be the famous Harold’s Kosher Deli on Gay Street, and often he would sneak over to our house on a Sunday afternoon when he would smell the pork on the barbeque spit that my grandmother was cooking for her own restaurant. He would beg for a pork sandwich, and out of Christian love my grandmother would slice him a large piece of pork. At times he was nabbed at the scene by his wife Atti who loudly reminded him of the religious laws forbidding such sinful acts. Many times Harold and Atti’s son, Martin Glenn, accompanied me to Vacation Bible School, and he would come walking home singing songs like “Jesus Loves Me” or “Onward Christian Soldiers.” This would cause Atti to launch into a tirade in which she expanded upon what the Rabbi say if he heard such ungodly songs! And lastly our noted Greek lady, Mrs. Regas, was always yelling to the top of her voice about why the Jews and the Catholics were all going to the lower regions because of one thing or the other. Later she would bring her delicious homemade desserts made with her old family’s recipes from Athens to all those she had earlier chastised, bringing peace once again to the diverse neighborhood.


On Sundays we all went our different ways praising God with Bibles in hand, and afterwards came back as neighbors filled with “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and temperance” (Gal. 5:22-23). My grandmother and other matriarchs and patriarchs of the old neighborhood would have agreed with the Episcopal priest, Rev. Lowell Grisham, who said in 2011, “I see Jesus in the Dalia Lama, and were we to meet, I would be honored if the Dalia could see the Buddha nature in me.”