Line...?

A tall, big, and blue eyed girl with long brown hair and bangs is walking through her parents front yard, deep in her own imagination, singing “Part of Your World” from Disney’s The Little Mermaid unabashedly, snaps back to reality when her neighbor and older friend Lena comes over demanding they prepare for their upcoming show. They run over to Lena’s backyard, boom box in hand, ready for their trampoline choreography rehearsal. Soon, their tickets sell out and they are featured in a newspaper for their accomplishments in the local lemonade and performance business in order to acquire every Backstreet Boy paraphernalia known to man.

I wish I could say I stopped imagining myself as The Little Mermaid, or any other Disney Princess for that matter, but even as a 27 year old I embrace the idea that I could encapsulate the ideal (insert whichever character here). The fact of the matter is, the older I became the more I grew in my passion for performance art. Throughout middle school and high school, I became known as the girl who could easily make others cry, either in Speech performances or on the big stage. My dream of being on Broadway pushed its way forward in my mind. It was the ultimate goal to achieve. The end of high school came near and I had to pick my major in college to set the track for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, a Theatre major was not something that would get my parents to pay for my tuition, so I settled for a minor in it instead.

Setting foot on stage was always the dream, but I never realized that so much happened in the moments I prepared for and became each character. Though blocking and choreography were important, they became second nature as I began to access the feelings and motivations of the character. Your breath becomes their breath, and their words become your own. It can bring you elation to the point of flight or weigh you down, drowning you in guilt, fear, or anger.

Fast forward to my final spring in Seminary, my habit of being on stage laying by the wayside for the last three years, and I am required by my professor Dr. Ngan to read “The Art of Biblical Narrative” by Robert Alter. Previously, and to my dismay, my two worlds of the Church and Theatre were not two that combined easily, if at all. Though I became a Christian in high school, I believed myself to be essentially leading two different lives. The cultures themselves seemed to be at such opposite extremes that I couldn’t help but separate them and almost split myself in the process. However, I began to see Theatre in a very spiritual sense.

My first encounter with the combination of Theatre and Church was in the production of Parabole put on by the Independent Performing Arts Coalition at Truman State University. Through a strange mishap, I ended up playing the lead of Humanity, and the following year playing Judas. Parabole wasn’t your typical theatrical performance with dialog, but instead, a mime. Yes, I was a mime in college. It was more than that, though. Our director, Meg Pattee, is an insanely talented dancer who helped me, not only as a performer, but as someone to challenge me in my own theology in performance and in my relationship with Christ in a way that no one ever had before. Our movements were the words that told a story, and the music drove the emotion that we could not speak. A full body experience, I truly can’t find words to describe what happened in each performance, but I believe the Spirit of Christ moved. It was in this performance that I felt myself connecting to something more than just another person, but to God. It was the first time I wasn’t worried about me and my performance…but purely the interaction with God in that moment representing all of Humanity. It changed my view of acting. I no longer wanted to just play a part, but recognize that this is someone’s story, someone’s life, someone’s purpose to share with others. I recognized when I was focused on me and my performance, I lost lines, I stopped feeling, I went on auto pilot. My spirit was no longer desiring God’s. It was only in my loss to self that I could truly reach a point of a “performance” worth having.

After reading Alter’s words, I came to a conclusion that there is more to Scripture than what meets the eye; and that silence is poignant and purposeful. To engage with Scripture, there needs to be an understanding of what is happening behind the scenes, an understanding of each person. To ask questions of why this story is here, why this person speaks (or doesn’t speak) is necessary. These silences need to be addressed and spoken for. The interaction with Scripture needs to go deeper than just thought, but become interaction. Why not become the Word, body, mind, character and all? If this is a spiritual point in which my soul glimpses God, even for an instant, isn’t it even worth trying…?

This is my story. This is my interaction. This is my experience. I don’t want to just leave it here. I want us to grapple this idea together. I want us to share, together, this topic of Theater and Spirituality. What has been your experience? What is your dream in performance? How has God moved through you in acting, directing or even participating as an audience member? Comment, interact with one another. Find this as a safe place to share joy or hurt or confusion in these experiences.

Please follow back and feel free to discuss.

On Thursday there will be more of an interaction with performance and devotion.

In love,

Sam Jo.