Theatre Lessons: Embodying Truth Part I

"I will sing to the Lord for He is gloriously triumphant."

If you've never watched Dreamworks' 1998 cartoon musical, The Prince of Egypt, then take my advice and do it ASAP. In my opinion, it is the best film adaptation of the famous story of Moses in the Old Testament, with killer musical numbers on top of that. And I got to be in the cast of the stage version last month, when my parish put it on as our annual musical. This has been the most impactful and profound musical I've done, particularly because we were showing it in the midst of civil unrest in our very own city. Obviously the committee didn't know what was going to happen when they chose the show last spring, so it really was only by God's Providence that we were going to rehearse and present the show in a time of literal oppression from the government against vulnerable immigrants. I realize that immigration is a very complicated and polarizing subject, and am no expert in the legalities. I believe in what the Catholic Church teaches on this issue, that nations have a right to regulate their borders and enact laws, and that migrants should still be treated with dignity and respect as human beings. Both can be true. What I can speak to is the palpable fear among people of good will, many of whom have gone through the proper channels to be in this country, yet still are in danger of being snatched out of nowhere and thrown into a detention center without due process, for an indefinite amount of time, in inhumane conditions (there are already countless reports of these). The story of Moses and Hebrews left a profound impression on me and gave me a way to process the pain and confusion I was experiencing...especially facing the reality that many in the Church I love were turning a blind eye to this injustice. God fights for those who cannot fight for themselves

I was cast as part of the slave ensemble, but I was given the Hebrew solo in the iconic song, "When You Believe"--the song when the Hebrews are finally able to leave Egypt. Wrestling in my relationship with God the last few months, I was worried that I would not be able to connect with the words, Miriam's "Song of the Sea", which are sung in the Easter Vigil Mass: "I will sing to the Lord for He is gloriously triumphant, Who is like the Lord among the celestials? Who is like to You, majestic in holiness? In Your love you lead the people you redeemed." A curious thing happened when we first rehearsed this song. We actually learned it pretty late, with just a few weeks until performances. Many of us knew it already from the movie, but it was the first time that we got to sing it as a cast. And when we did, we looked at each other somewhat in awe of how beautiful it was. We felt something. Then we staged it. By the end, we were crying. And miraculously, I believed every single word of that solo, for the first time in a long time...that God actually cares for the marginalized, despite the Christian right-wing rhetoric and politics that unfortunately pervade the generally "traditional" religious crowd. The Song of the Sea in Exodus 15 is a song of victory for the weak and the oppressed. The Hebrews are rejoicing over the fact that God overthrew the powerful who had enslaved them for hundreds of years. He heard their cry and answered it. There was no sense of "both sides" being equally responsible; in Scripture it clearly states that the Lord was fighting for the Israelites against the Egyptians (Exodus 14:25). I also read an insightful post on Instagram reflecting on this powerful song in Exodus: it is the fact that Miriam, the sister of Moses and the Hebrew women are leading this song of victory. The women, the most vulnerable of an already vulnerable people, are the ones proclaiming God's might and power over their enemies. This kind of song would echo down through the centuries, from Hannah the mother of Samuel, to Mary, the Mother of Jesus. In Catholic Social Teaching, we have what is called the "Preferential Option for the Poor." This means that where the poor or marginalized are concerned, their needs must be prioritized. This principle rests on what we find in the Scriptures: Jesus is always drawn to those on the fringes of society, those who cannot provide for or defend themselves. Yes, the circumstances surrounding violence can be complicated and murky, full of nuance. However, the act of terrorizing and harming people who are not posing danger to those around them should be pretty clear cut: it's wrong. The ends--which may very well be valid and good--do not justify the means. In order for an act to be considered morally good, everything surrounding it--the intention, the act itself, the end result--has to be in line with what is objectively virtuous. This is basic moral philosophy. The story of Moses freeing his enslaved people couldn't ring more true during these troubled times. This story forces us to confront the question: will we choose to be in solidarity with those who are suffering in our midst? Or will we decide to dance around the subject? Turn a blind eye? Because one day, we will have to answer to God for whatsoever we did to the least of these.