The Olsen grandchildren and Tex and I did Jesus Christ Super Star at the Royal Theatre in Victoria. It was an extravaganza. The story of Jesus was told using astonishing dancers and brilliant singers. But it took the kids more than half the show to figure out what was going on, which came as a bit of a shock to me. I thought everyone would know the story.
The central theme of my young life was the story told in the musical. Whether I could hear the words or not I knew exactly what was going on, including the nuances and vague inferences. My grandkids knew Jesus had something to do with Christmas and they picked up the reference to him being the King of the Jews but they didn’t know much else.
As it goes in the Olsen family so it goes with many, if not most, western families. Who sends their kids to Sunday School these days? Who teaches Sunday School? The modern Jesus is decked with boughs of holly and reduced to pleasantries on Christmas cards.
The kids didn’t know what the fuss was about Jesus. I told them that the story was important if for no other reason than that he is by far the most famous human being in all history. And, of course, the production had fabulous music from the 70s and what’s not to love about that.
But it was more about just being there. Absorbing. Letting yourself be part of the spectacle.
What was most exciting about taking eight young people to the show was being with them as they experienced exceptional, over-the-top, art.
The joy of art and transcendent human expression is as much a part of being human as is the monstrous and imbecilic demonstrations of human behaviour we are seeing elsewhere. The real brilliance of being human is that the monstrous and the beautiful exist at the same time. The one does not exclude the other. It is our challenge to be able to experience both–not to be darkened and depressed by the one or naively animated by the other. It is all, at the same time, what it is to be human.