Reflections

When I was a kid, very little made me happier than going to the movies with my dad. I can still visualize my dad poking his head in my room and asking, “Want to go to the movies?” After supper, we drove to Showcase Cinemas on Brownsboro Road in Louisville. A classic suburban multiplex, the theater had 12 screens (TWELVE SCREENS), acres of parking, and you knew they were showing a big hit when the traffic backed up all the way to the interstate. Some of the rooms were small, but the big blockbusters were always in theater four: a HUGE space, with a curtain that parted when the massive screen flickered to life. We would settle in with our popcorn and cokes, and I was happy as a clam. Showcase Cinemas closed several years ago and is now a Costco.

 

I still love movies. I will watch them at home, but I much prefer the ritual of going to the theater. On Monday night, Henry and I saw “The Odyssey” in a packed house (it is EPIC). One can certainly appreciate acting, writing, cinematography, music, etc. at home, but seeing a film in a theater, filled with collective laughs, jumps, and tears, adds another dimension to the experience.

 

In the 21st century, especially since the pandemic, we have lost many of our communal experiences. This phenomenon is well documented by Robert Putnam in his book, “Bowling Alone.”  Much of the media we consume and that occupies our time, including television, print, or the BookFace, is a one-way interaction. But community builds mutuality and relationships, and therein we learn about ourselves and how to work (and play and live) together. Ellen and I aren’t perfect parents (certainly not me), but for these reasons, among others, we send our kids to camp, support their participation in teams or theater productions, and, of course, Anna is about to depart for that very consequential community: college (our Diocese of Virginia just published a new series about finding community in college).

 

Church is community (you knew this segue was coming). At Church, not only do we gather on Sunday to sit in hallowed spaces and in well-worn pews, but as a parish we sing and pray together, learn together, take care of each other, and do good work together. As I once mentioned in a previous reflection, when Saint Paul wrote to the church in Phillipi, “work out your own salvation” (2:12), the your is second person plural - not one you, but all of you. In other words, you need to get your mess together together (a.k.a. all y’all).

 

Moreover, when we practice community, not only are we healthier and able to do more, but we learn to respect, honor, and value the other. When we aren’t in community, we can be tempted by fear of the other. But if we are in community, that person across the aisle, or in the choir, or at coffee hour, is not some strange other, but Maria or Bertha or Bob (a.k.a. beloved, a sister and brother in Christ, and made in the image of God).

 

This summer, and as we soon begin another school year, celebrate community. Protect and preserve our communities. Be part of the community that is the heart of All Saints.