"To love another person is to see the face of God...." This is Jean Valjean's final line in the play and movie of Victor Hugo's Les Miserables.... which I can honestly say is one of the most profound literary, musical and movie experiences of my life.
Unlike many people in the this country, I was first introduced to Les Miserables through the book, all 1463 pages of it. It was a gift from a friend in seminary and I read it from cover to cover in less than one week. I was so transfixed by the story that I could barely manage to put it down to sleep, and would pick it up to begin the read again as soon as I awoke. That week was supposed to be one of recovery from the intensity of a difficult semester of reading and writing. But the power of the story, of it's picture of forgiveness and grace - I could not help but be swept away and changed forever by its enduring message of love.
Just a few months later, I had the opportunity to see the musical adaptation for the first time. I drove with six of my friends from Durham to Atlanta for a Saturday matinee, and then back to Durham the same night. We talked about it the whole way home - about six hours - and for days afterward. The music and staging enhanced my fondness for the story, and so I read it again over the summer break. Ultimately, I was able to process the story most fully when I wrote a semester-length paper for a church theology class on grace in my last year of seminary. And still I held on to my original book copy, complete with its underlining and highlighting and dogeared pages... it is a good friend that I always want to be in touch with.
Three more times I have seen the musical - in Raleigh, in Norfolk, and on the original London set in the East End ... in a theater with less than 1000 people. In London, I saw it with my husband, who was as enthralled as I was, and who never wants to see anything for a second time, except this. We have watched the concerts on PBS during pledge drive, own the 25th Anniversary concert on Blu-Ray (it's actually our only Blu-Ray disk), and have waited with great anticipation for the release of the movie. It was everything I hoped it would be and more.
Today, sitting in that movie, it felt like being in church... very up close and personal. You could almost feel the dirt, smell the stench, feel the rain. And when tears were shed, they were not only Fantine or Valjean or Javert's tears, they were my tears, too.
This is a book, a play, and a movie about injustice... about oppression... about grace... about forgiveness. It is a story that transcends 19th century France and mirrors many of the stories of struggle throughout the world today. It asks the question, "Can people change?" In our experience, we often think not, but the whole gospel message says that we can, only not by our own power alone. It is through our relationship with Christ that change occurs. But it is often difficult to imagine what that kind of change could look like in our own lives.
These immortal characters help us to ask ourselves what we would do in the same circumstances. Would we have forgiven as the bishop did? Would I have made the dramatic turn around that Jean Valjean made? Would you continue to live out grace, even if you were afraid your secret past was about to be discovered? Would we keep impossible promises and totally change our lives, all because of a promise made to a God that only became real in an unimaginable and unwanted way. (I hope this was vague enough not to ruin the plot, but not so much as not to get my point across.)
In the end, I think this is exactly what Hugo wanted from his readers. He wanted us to ask, "Is my faith real - is it alive? Can others see it? Are they inspired by it? Does it give me the courage to fight injustice and oppression and help others, even when it is risky for me?
I think this is what church is supposed to do... Or in the words of Pastor Carl today, are we, like the magi, willing to go home by a different way? And what would that look like? Would it look like Les Mis...? Or would it look like something that I can't even imagine, yet?
I wonder....
Peace, Deb
Three more times I have seen the musical - in Raleigh, in Norfolk, and on the original London set in the East End ... in a theater with less than 1000 people. In London, I saw it with my husband, who was as enthralled as I was, and who never wants to see anything for a second time, except this. We have watched the concerts on PBS during pledge drive, own the 25th Anniversary concert on Blu-Ray (it's actually our only Blu-Ray disk), and have waited with great anticipation for the release of the movie. It was everything I hoped it would be and more.
Today, sitting in that movie, it felt like being in church... very up close and personal. You could almost feel the dirt, smell the stench, feel the rain. And when tears were shed, they were not only Fantine or Valjean or Javert's tears, they were my tears, too.
This is a book, a play, and a movie about injustice... about oppression... about grace... about forgiveness. It is a story that transcends 19th century France and mirrors many of the stories of struggle throughout the world today. It asks the question, "Can people change?" In our experience, we often think not, but the whole gospel message says that we can, only not by our own power alone. It is through our relationship with Christ that change occurs. But it is often difficult to imagine what that kind of change could look like in our own lives.
These immortal characters help us to ask ourselves what we would do in the same circumstances. Would we have forgiven as the bishop did? Would I have made the dramatic turn around that Jean Valjean made? Would you continue to live out grace, even if you were afraid your secret past was about to be discovered? Would we keep impossible promises and totally change our lives, all because of a promise made to a God that only became real in an unimaginable and unwanted way. (I hope this was vague enough not to ruin the plot, but not so much as not to get my point across.)
In the end, I think this is exactly what Hugo wanted from his readers. He wanted us to ask, "Is my faith real - is it alive? Can others see it? Are they inspired by it? Does it give me the courage to fight injustice and oppression and help others, even when it is risky for me?
I think this is what church is supposed to do... Or in the words of Pastor Carl today, are we, like the magi, willing to go home by a different way? And what would that look like? Would it look like Les Mis...? Or would it look like something that I can't even imagine, yet?
I wonder....
Peace, Deb
