Relocating To Elfland

I recently finished Thomas Cahill’s Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter (part of his Hinges of History series). It’s a wonderful read for those of us whose educational upbringing didn’t include much interaction with classical antiquity. Here’s a passage to whet the appetite:

“From pagan Greek liturgy came all of ancient drama; from medieval Latin liturgy came all of modern drama. That drama has always risen out of liturgy suggests that even the most secular theater is caught up in some aspects of communal religious experience: a large, hushed arena of spectators, who laugh, cry, applaud (and perhaps even sing) together and are therefore conscious of their fleeting bonds of community – their communion with the personae brought to life by the actors, their communion with one another as witnesses to a symbolic story that is, at least in some archetypal sense, a mirror of their own lives and the lives of their families and friends. It is this (usually) unspoken religious dimension that can give theater such depth, even as times such mystical resonance.” (Cahill, pp. 120–21)

A couple reactions. First, I wonder what this says about the “mini-shrines” set up in our modern North American homes, with the telly front-and-center and an eager audience gathered round for hours on end. I doubt one could generate, evening by evening, the same enthusiasm for Christian liturgy. What does this say about the “community” and “story” with which we identify? Second, I could not help thinking how differently some churches might conduct their liturgy if they really understood how dramatic liturgy is intended to be. Liturgy gives rise to drama precisely because liturgy is (or should be) telling a story: the “drama” of a Christian worship service should evoke, in the hearts of believers young and old, all the great dramas of God’s kingdom and covenant. Our God is doing in this worship service just what He has been doing since He made the world and announced redemption to fallen Adam: once again He is calling us, covering us, comforting us, cleansing us, consecrating us, and communing with us by His Word and at His table – and so we are one with the ages of His people.