A few weeks ago a bunch of rumors surfaced that ABC was planning to cancel All My Children. The rumors were plausible enough that some stars of the show mobilized their fanbases into a letter-writing and phone-calling campaign to save the soap. Then word spread that the rumors were just that, rumors. An executive producer assured the cast the show was not being cancelled.
Today ABC announced they are canceling both All My Children and One Life to Live. Both shows created by Agnes Nixon. Both shows not merely silly tales of "love in the afternoon" but for many years cutting edge in addressing major social issues through their characters and stories.
Granted, the writing hasn't been very good lately - in part because there hasn't been a meaty social issue storyline for a long time. But you know how you fix crappy soap writing, ABC? You hire better writers. You don't cancel the show.
The title of this post tells you what I think of this move and the executive behind it. Frons is an ass not only for cancelling these shows but especially for misleading the cast and crew, telling them their jobs were secure and then yanking the rug out from under them just a few weeks later.
I can tell you this: I'm in the demographic they're supposedly targeting, and I've intentionally watched All My Children for the better part of 25 years. I've watched through thick and thin, I've remained loyal through good story lines and crappy story lines, because in the end it was always about the bigger story that was being told.
I have no interest in the shows lined up to replace my (and my mother's and my grandmother's) stories. ABC Daytime, you have lost this viewer for good.
Showing posts with label all my children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label all my children. Show all posts
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Happy Anniversary, AMC!
Thanks for 40 years of life as we know it refracted through the residents of Pine Valley, Pennsylvania.
May you never lose your social edginess and your commitment to cultural relevance, and may the antics of La Kane and company keep us watching another 40 years.
May you never lose your social edginess and your commitment to cultural relevance, and may the antics of La Kane and company keep us watching another 40 years.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Signs of the Times
While I can reliably arrive at the Harrisburg airport a mere hour before my flight is scheduled to leave and confidently make it through check-in and security, and arrive at my gate with time to spare, the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport is much larger and much busier, so I normally give myself the full recommended two hours to negotiate it. And there have been times when MSP was so busy, even two hours was cutting it close, and I found myself racing to the gate just in time to begin boarding.
But last Tuesday evening was not one of those times. In fact, the airport was eerily unbusy. I didn't have to wait in line to check in or to get through security, which has never happened to me before. I mean, even Harrisburg at the crack of dawn has a line - not a very big line (hence the ability to arrive only an hour early) - but a line all the same. I've gotta say, while the experience was admittedly convenient, it was also kind of creepy because it was so unusual. And I can only chalk it up to the current state of the economy combined with the rising cost of airfare and baggage fees - people just aren't flying.
On other fronts, All My Children has been pimping V8 juices, Prego sauces, and Campbell's Soup for the past two weeks, in glaringly obvious, whack-you-over-the-head kind of ways. I know product placement has been common in movies for many years already, but it hasn't been as predominant on television, and especially not on the soaps. On the one hand, the way the characters bring up the products in their dialogue is so random it's kind of funny, and became a running joke between my mom and I, as I would randomly offer her a V8 throughout the week I was home. But, seriously, I'm hoping it's just a temporary thing as part of their promotion of women's heart health awareness, and not the latest, greatest way for them to stay financially solvent, because the humor is wearing thin at this point.
Happy Valentine's Day,
C.
But last Tuesday evening was not one of those times. In fact, the airport was eerily unbusy. I didn't have to wait in line to check in or to get through security, which has never happened to me before. I mean, even Harrisburg at the crack of dawn has a line - not a very big line (hence the ability to arrive only an hour early) - but a line all the same. I've gotta say, while the experience was admittedly convenient, it was also kind of creepy because it was so unusual. And I can only chalk it up to the current state of the economy combined with the rising cost of airfare and baggage fees - people just aren't flying.
On other fronts, All My Children has been pimping V8 juices, Prego sauces, and Campbell's Soup for the past two weeks, in glaringly obvious, whack-you-over-the-head kind of ways. I know product placement has been common in movies for many years already, but it hasn't been as predominant on television, and especially not on the soaps. On the one hand, the way the characters bring up the products in their dialogue is so random it's kind of funny, and became a running joke between my mom and I, as I would randomly offer her a V8 throughout the week I was home. But, seriously, I'm hoping it's just a temporary thing as part of their promotion of women's heart health awareness, and not the latest, greatest way for them to stay financially solvent, because the humor is wearing thin at this point.
Happy Valentine's Day,
C.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Wade in the Water
Interesting things going on over at All My Children these days. Bianca (the youngest daughter of the show's diva, Erica Kane) is back in town, and she's engaged and has a new baby. That might not be so interesting in itself, except, you see, Bianca is gay.
Baby Gabrielle was scheduled to be "christened" this past week, and the first pastor scheduled to do the ceremony, who was clearly supposed to be a Catholic priest, refused to perform the baptism once he realized the baby was the child of a gay couple.
I realize such rejection is, sadly, more often the experience homosexuals have with the church than not, so it was good and accurate for it to be part of the story. Still, I found myself furious by what was happening on screen, and thought - were these real people - I would have tracked them down and offered to baptize the baby myself (Pine Valley can only be a couple hours from Lewisburg, at most!).
Turned out my services were not needed :) - by the end of the episode, La Kane had taken care of things and found a woman pastor with a sweet looking portable font who "christened" Gabrielle. I'm a little confused as to what tradition this pastor was supposed to represent - she wore black academic robes like a Methodist, but a banded clerical collar and a white stole like an Episcopalian, and the baptism itself was rather humanist - but what else can one expect from a soap?
In any case, I was curious to see what kind of chatter there was on the official AMC discussion board after all this, and it was very interesting - as may be expected, there were those who lauded abc for showing the discrimination gay people constantly face in the church, as well as those who defended the priest's decision and lambasted abc for picking on the Catholic church.
Even more interesting is how those latter discussions morphed into conversations about baptismal practices in general. One of the defenses of the priest was that, given that nobody in Pine Valley seems to be involved in a faith community on a regular basis, the priest was well within his rights to refuse the baptism (even though it was clear those weren't the grounds of his refusal). Several folks responded with stories of being denied baptism for their own children because they were not members of the church, and their analysis was simply that all the church wants is money, and if you're not willing to join and give it, too bad for you - no baptism.
Now, I can understand how these folks may have come to this conclusion. But let me give you the pastor's perspective on baptism.
And let me start by saying that I have yet to deny anybody a baptism, and I find it unlikely I ever will. I have baptized both children and adults, I have baptized people in families that are very active in my congregation, and I have baptized people whose immediate families are not active at all in the congregation (and who have never darkened the door of the church since).
Here's what baptism is not: eternal fire insurance. I know, lots of people, even highly churched people, treat it as such. And I suspect that's why a lot of people, even highly unchurched people, want to get their kids "done" (as some have called it), because they think baptism is some golden ticket into heaven.
That's not exactly how it works. Baptism, first and foremost, is a covenant. Primarily a covenant between God and the person being baptized. In the act of baptism God names and claims this person as God's own beloved child.
Now, does that mean that if you're not baptized, you're not a child of God? Absolutely not. But baptism is a very public declaration of this relationship with God - in front of witnesses, God makes this covenant with you and promises that you are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. In other words - no take backs. No matter what happens. And that's a good promise to be able to cling to, especially on those days and in those seasons when your life is a mess, when you feel like you're drowning in mistakes, when your heart is broken, when you're overwhelmed by the darkness, when all others have abandoned you - in all times and places, it's good to know you can trust that God is with you and for you, come what may.
I believe this a promise that God wants to make publicly to everyone, and this aspect of the covenant is why I can't see myself ever denying a baptism, no matter how shady the motivations of the parents or the person themselves. For I hold with the prophet Isaiah that the Word of God never returns to God empty, but always, ultimately, bears fruit; and I feel it is neither my right nor my responsibility, as a member of the clergy, to stand in the Word's way. If anything, my job is to cast the Word out into the world and then do my best to keep myself and others from bungling it up.
All of that being said - the covenant between God and the person being baptized is not the only covenant being made that day. The parents, the godparents, and the whole body of Christ are also making promises to the one being baptized - significant promises to help the baptized learn the old, old story of God's deep love for and engagement with the world, to help them discern their role in this ever-unfolding narrative, and to help them wrestle with the deep questions of faith that will inevitably pop up along the way. We make these promises because we believe you can't do any of this on your own - you need the help and support of a community, and part of these promises are concrete commitments to life together - to worship together, and study together, and talk together.
So when folks who are not already a part of the community, and who, after conversation, clearly have no interest in becoming part of the community, come to me and ask for a baptism, I do stop and wonder why it really even matters to them - I mean, why bother going through this ritual and making promises that you don't intend to keep? That's basically making a mockery of the whole process - which is, you know, kind of irritating to those of us who take these promises seriously and hold this ritual sacred.
But in spite of this rub, one's answer to the question "To baptize, or not to baptize" ultimately comes down to which covenants one feels are most important. I believe, for the sake of the baptized, it is most important to make God's covenant with them a matter of graspable, tangible public record, because God's promises never fail, even when all our human promises fade and whither like the grass. And, as I said, I trust the power and efficacy of God's Word to find its way and bear its fruit in spite of all our attempts to bungle it. So I'd rather err on the side of grace, and consequently have yet to refuse a baptism, and doubt that I ever will.
But I can also understand the frustration of fellow clergy who are tired of trampling on the human covenants being made that day, I can understand their desire to raise the bar and reasonably expect the people making these promises to put a modicum of effort into fulfilling them.
And to those who've encountered such clergy, who have perhaps even been denied a baptism as a result of your unwillingness to meet whatever expectations were laid out by this clergy and/or their congregation - before you get all hot and bothered and start tearing down the church for not asking "How high?" when you said "Jump!," can I ask you to consider this possibility: that it is not so much about them wanting your money, as it is about God wanting your life, and them taking seriously what God has said from the very beginning, that it is not good for you to live that life alone? I mean, I wasn't there, I don't know what shook down, and I know there are clergy and congregations out there who do want to grow their membership just to get more coins in the coffer. So, your take on things may be entirely right. I'm just asking you to consider another side of things, in the off-chance you were wrong.
Whoo - that's probably enough about baptism, at least for today. I trust certain faithful readers and fellow members in the priesthood of all believers will correct me if I've spewed forth any heresy. :) And I welcome any further thoughts or insights on the matter - leave a comment!
Peace,
C.
Baby Gabrielle was scheduled to be "christened" this past week, and the first pastor scheduled to do the ceremony, who was clearly supposed to be a Catholic priest, refused to perform the baptism once he realized the baby was the child of a gay couple.
I realize such rejection is, sadly, more often the experience homosexuals have with the church than not, so it was good and accurate for it to be part of the story. Still, I found myself furious by what was happening on screen, and thought - were these real people - I would have tracked them down and offered to baptize the baby myself (Pine Valley can only be a couple hours from Lewisburg, at most!).
Turned out my services were not needed :) - by the end of the episode, La Kane had taken care of things and found a woman pastor with a sweet looking portable font who "christened" Gabrielle. I'm a little confused as to what tradition this pastor was supposed to represent - she wore black academic robes like a Methodist, but a banded clerical collar and a white stole like an Episcopalian, and the baptism itself was rather humanist - but what else can one expect from a soap?
In any case, I was curious to see what kind of chatter there was on the official AMC discussion board after all this, and it was very interesting - as may be expected, there were those who lauded abc for showing the discrimination gay people constantly face in the church, as well as those who defended the priest's decision and lambasted abc for picking on the Catholic church.
Even more interesting is how those latter discussions morphed into conversations about baptismal practices in general. One of the defenses of the priest was that, given that nobody in Pine Valley seems to be involved in a faith community on a regular basis, the priest was well within his rights to refuse the baptism (even though it was clear those weren't the grounds of his refusal). Several folks responded with stories of being denied baptism for their own children because they were not members of the church, and their analysis was simply that all the church wants is money, and if you're not willing to join and give it, too bad for you - no baptism.
Now, I can understand how these folks may have come to this conclusion. But let me give you the pastor's perspective on baptism.
And let me start by saying that I have yet to deny anybody a baptism, and I find it unlikely I ever will. I have baptized both children and adults, I have baptized people in families that are very active in my congregation, and I have baptized people whose immediate families are not active at all in the congregation (and who have never darkened the door of the church since).
Here's what baptism is not: eternal fire insurance. I know, lots of people, even highly churched people, treat it as such. And I suspect that's why a lot of people, even highly unchurched people, want to get their kids "done" (as some have called it), because they think baptism is some golden ticket into heaven.
That's not exactly how it works. Baptism, first and foremost, is a covenant. Primarily a covenant between God and the person being baptized. In the act of baptism God names and claims this person as God's own beloved child.
Now, does that mean that if you're not baptized, you're not a child of God? Absolutely not. But baptism is a very public declaration of this relationship with God - in front of witnesses, God makes this covenant with you and promises that you are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. In other words - no take backs. No matter what happens. And that's a good promise to be able to cling to, especially on those days and in those seasons when your life is a mess, when you feel like you're drowning in mistakes, when your heart is broken, when you're overwhelmed by the darkness, when all others have abandoned you - in all times and places, it's good to know you can trust that God is with you and for you, come what may.
I believe this a promise that God wants to make publicly to everyone, and this aspect of the covenant is why I can't see myself ever denying a baptism, no matter how shady the motivations of the parents or the person themselves. For I hold with the prophet Isaiah that the Word of God never returns to God empty, but always, ultimately, bears fruit; and I feel it is neither my right nor my responsibility, as a member of the clergy, to stand in the Word's way. If anything, my job is to cast the Word out into the world and then do my best to keep myself and others from bungling it up.
All of that being said - the covenant between God and the person being baptized is not the only covenant being made that day. The parents, the godparents, and the whole body of Christ are also making promises to the one being baptized - significant promises to help the baptized learn the old, old story of God's deep love for and engagement with the world, to help them discern their role in this ever-unfolding narrative, and to help them wrestle with the deep questions of faith that will inevitably pop up along the way. We make these promises because we believe you can't do any of this on your own - you need the help and support of a community, and part of these promises are concrete commitments to life together - to worship together, and study together, and talk together.
So when folks who are not already a part of the community, and who, after conversation, clearly have no interest in becoming part of the community, come to me and ask for a baptism, I do stop and wonder why it really even matters to them - I mean, why bother going through this ritual and making promises that you don't intend to keep? That's basically making a mockery of the whole process - which is, you know, kind of irritating to those of us who take these promises seriously and hold this ritual sacred.
But in spite of this rub, one's answer to the question "To baptize, or not to baptize" ultimately comes down to which covenants one feels are most important. I believe, for the sake of the baptized, it is most important to make God's covenant with them a matter of graspable, tangible public record, because God's promises never fail, even when all our human promises fade and whither like the grass. And, as I said, I trust the power and efficacy of God's Word to find its way and bear its fruit in spite of all our attempts to bungle it. So I'd rather err on the side of grace, and consequently have yet to refuse a baptism, and doubt that I ever will.
But I can also understand the frustration of fellow clergy who are tired of trampling on the human covenants being made that day, I can understand their desire to raise the bar and reasonably expect the people making these promises to put a modicum of effort into fulfilling them.
And to those who've encountered such clergy, who have perhaps even been denied a baptism as a result of your unwillingness to meet whatever expectations were laid out by this clergy and/or their congregation - before you get all hot and bothered and start tearing down the church for not asking "How high?" when you said "Jump!," can I ask you to consider this possibility: that it is not so much about them wanting your money, as it is about God wanting your life, and them taking seriously what God has said from the very beginning, that it is not good for you to live that life alone? I mean, I wasn't there, I don't know what shook down, and I know there are clergy and congregations out there who do want to grow their membership just to get more coins in the coffer. So, your take on things may be entirely right. I'm just asking you to consider another side of things, in the off-chance you were wrong.
Whoo - that's probably enough about baptism, at least for today. I trust certain faithful readers and fellow members in the priesthood of all believers will correct me if I've spewed forth any heresy. :) And I welcome any further thoughts or insights on the matter - leave a comment!
Peace,
C.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Imaginations Gone Wild
Over the past few years, several All My Children alum ventured west to further their name or find their fortune in L.A. Tired of waiting for Hollywood to notice them, they're making their own mojo in a project called Imaginary Bitches. It's a funny little web series - sort of Harvey meets Mean Girls a la Sex and the City.
Tonight at a party, I learned my young friend Olivia (she's 4.5) is having some troubles with "IBs" herself. Several of the Disney princesses live at her house, but lately they've been really mean to her, to the point that she's had trouble going to sleep at night.
First, mom and dad tried the rational approach "Olivia, they're imaginary friends - they'll do whatever you want them to do." Well, that wasn't helping matters - she reported at breakfast the other day that the princesses wouldn't listen to her, they were still being mean. Dad asked "Do you want me to talk to them when we're done eating?" "Yeah."
So, they all "lined up" on the couch after breakfast. Dad looked at Olivia and asked "Is everyone present?" "Yeah." He proceeded to lecture them about the importance of respect and caring for other people and their feelings. He paused to let the message "sink in" and then looked to Olivia for a cue: "I can't hear what they're saying. Can you tell me?"
And in a complete "Duh!" tone of voice, she responded "Daddy, they're imaginary friends. . ."
The good news is, they've quit pestering her this week - apparently, they all decided it was time for a vacation to Florida, to visit their other friends at Disneyworld. One or two have come back already, but they are being nice. The rest will be away for at least a couple of weeks. . .!
Gotta love those wild imaginations! :)
Tonight at a party, I learned my young friend Olivia (she's 4.5) is having some troubles with "IBs" herself. Several of the Disney princesses live at her house, but lately they've been really mean to her, to the point that she's had trouble going to sleep at night.
First, mom and dad tried the rational approach "Olivia, they're imaginary friends - they'll do whatever you want them to do." Well, that wasn't helping matters - she reported at breakfast the other day that the princesses wouldn't listen to her, they were still being mean. Dad asked "Do you want me to talk to them when we're done eating?" "Yeah."
So, they all "lined up" on the couch after breakfast. Dad looked at Olivia and asked "Is everyone present?" "Yeah." He proceeded to lecture them about the importance of respect and caring for other people and their feelings. He paused to let the message "sink in" and then looked to Olivia for a cue: "I can't hear what they're saying. Can you tell me?"
And in a complete "Duh!" tone of voice, she responded "Daddy, they're imaginary friends. . ."
The good news is, they've quit pestering her this week - apparently, they all decided it was time for a vacation to Florida, to visit their other friends at Disneyworld. One or two have come back already, but they are being nice. The rest will be away for at least a couple of weeks. . .!
Gotta love those wild imaginations! :)
Friday, January 25, 2008
Immersive Story Worlds
Text study, the week before Christmas, last year. My colleagues and I were discussing how people generally seem to be more open to the idea of miracles around this time of year, and I make a passing comment about everybody needing a Father Clarence at some point in their life.
Andy's eyes go wide in dawning realization, he snaps his fingers, points at me and says "You watch All My Children!"
Busted!
Wayne's eyes go wide in disbelief as he blurts out "YOU watch a soap?" This information apparently rocked his world, as every time he saw me over the next month, he would shake his head and chuckle and mutter something about not being able to believe it, still.
But yes, I watch All My Children, a fact I don't quickly reveal about myself because it tends to solicit responses like Wayne's. Apparently, many find it a quirk in my character that goes against type.
But I watch for many reasons. I watch because, growing up, I watched All My Children with my mother and/or grandmother every lunch hour that I was home sick or on vacation from school. I watch because my grandmother still watches All My Children every day, and it's a area of conversation in which this amazing woman who claims she "don't know much of nothin" is still the expert and can school her overeducated grandaughter.
I watch because, by its very name (and the poem that used to be in the opening credits), All My Children presumes God as an omnipresent (if unseen) character, and it even occasionally engages the God stuff directly (usually around Christmastime, with the help of Father Clarence).
I watch because soaps get human sin and dysfunction. Certainly, they kick it up a notch. But honestly, after three years in the parish, it's only a notch or two beyond the kind of stuff that shakes down in real life. So it's - weirdly - kind of a relief and somewhat normalizing to watch and realize, this is just how people are. And oddly cathartic to see lives that are messy or melting down that I am no way responsible to help sort out.
I watch because soaps get tragedy and comedy, fall and redemption. I watch because All My Children, at its best, is true to its genre - it is operatic, dealing in archetypes, telling an epic story that is far greater than the sum of its parts. In the end, then, I love All My Children for the same reasons I love Harry Potter, the same reasons I love Star Wars - because I am a literary nerd and a well-told epic tale sucks me in every time.
Turns out, I am not the only one. Thanks to Mary's blog, I found out there is an MIT doctoral student actually writing their PhD dissertation on soaps, claiming they are one of the few "immersive story worlds" in our media culture right now (the other main two being DC or Marvel comics, and professional wrestling). Immersive story worlds, the author explains, are "narratives that are developed over time with a large volume of characters and text. Many of the reasons why people are attracted to these narratives deal with the depth and breadth of these stories and the feeling that these narratives are immortal."
In other words, in the face of our own fragility and finitude, we like to immerse ourselves in and yoke ourselves to stories that are bigger than ourselves, meta-narratives whose apparent immortality give us some sense of assurance that our story will carry on, even after we ourselves have returned to the dust from which we came.
I think this doctoral student is right on, and I think there are clear implications for the gospel in this line of thinking. After all, the great history of God's people, of God's desire to bring life and salvation to "all my children," is another immortal meta-narrative to which many of us yoke ourselves. But I'm not so sure we Christians, at least, immerse ourselves in that narrative in the same way.
I think our Jewish brothers and sisters do a much better job of this. I have admittedly limited experiences of observing Shabbat, but every time I have been overwhelmed by how alive the Scriptures seeemed to be within the worshipping community. It's not ancient history, it's immersive story world, it's ongoing meta-narrative of which they are very much a part.
By contrast, in much of the Christian worship I have experienced, the Scriptures feel like dead words on a page. Not that we don't take them seriously, not that we don't treat them reverently and read them with our slow, sober NPR voices. But they're just not alive in the same way among the body of worshippers. I'd like to blame it on the Joel Osteens and Joyce Meyers of the world, with their prosperity gospel and self-help sermons, turning the Bible into a glorified reference and rule book. But I think the problem predates them.
And while I'm not totally sure how to convince others to do this, how to get them to "get" it, I have a feeling in my gut that says re-immersing ourselves in the great story, reclaiming the living Word in our worship, is what we who call ourselves the Christian people of God ought to be up to. I have a feeling in my gut that says seeing ourselves as interconnected players in a story much bigger than our own might just change the way we live out our interactions with all of God's children today.
Peace,
Catrina
PS - I saw Juno tonight at The Campus. Some of the dialogue felt like it was trying a little too hard to be clever, but other than that, it was a well-done dark comedy. Bonus points for apparently taking place in Minnesota (never tells you where Juno actually lives, but based on the contextual references, I'm guessing the town is a stand-in for Elk River). Thumbs up.
Andy's eyes go wide in dawning realization, he snaps his fingers, points at me and says "You watch All My Children!"
Busted!
Wayne's eyes go wide in disbelief as he blurts out "YOU watch a soap?" This information apparently rocked his world, as every time he saw me over the next month, he would shake his head and chuckle and mutter something about not being able to believe it, still.
But yes, I watch All My Children, a fact I don't quickly reveal about myself because it tends to solicit responses like Wayne's. Apparently, many find it a quirk in my character that goes against type.
But I watch for many reasons. I watch because, growing up, I watched All My Children with my mother and/or grandmother every lunch hour that I was home sick or on vacation from school. I watch because my grandmother still watches All My Children every day, and it's a area of conversation in which this amazing woman who claims she "don't know much of nothin" is still the expert and can school her overeducated grandaughter.
I watch because, by its very name (and the poem that used to be in the opening credits), All My Children presumes God as an omnipresent (if unseen) character, and it even occasionally engages the God stuff directly (usually around Christmastime, with the help of Father Clarence).
I watch because soaps get human sin and dysfunction. Certainly, they kick it up a notch. But honestly, after three years in the parish, it's only a notch or two beyond the kind of stuff that shakes down in real life. So it's - weirdly - kind of a relief and somewhat normalizing to watch and realize, this is just how people are. And oddly cathartic to see lives that are messy or melting down that I am no way responsible to help sort out.
I watch because soaps get tragedy and comedy, fall and redemption. I watch because All My Children, at its best, is true to its genre - it is operatic, dealing in archetypes, telling an epic story that is far greater than the sum of its parts. In the end, then, I love All My Children for the same reasons I love Harry Potter, the same reasons I love Star Wars - because I am a literary nerd and a well-told epic tale sucks me in every time.
Turns out, I am not the only one. Thanks to Mary's blog, I found out there is an MIT doctoral student actually writing their PhD dissertation on soaps, claiming they are one of the few "immersive story worlds" in our media culture right now (the other main two being DC or Marvel comics, and professional wrestling). Immersive story worlds, the author explains, are "narratives that are developed over time with a large volume of characters and text. Many of the reasons why people are attracted to these narratives deal with the depth and breadth of these stories and the feeling that these narratives are immortal."
In other words, in the face of our own fragility and finitude, we like to immerse ourselves in and yoke ourselves to stories that are bigger than ourselves, meta-narratives whose apparent immortality give us some sense of assurance that our story will carry on, even after we ourselves have returned to the dust from which we came.
I think this doctoral student is right on, and I think there are clear implications for the gospel in this line of thinking. After all, the great history of God's people, of God's desire to bring life and salvation to "all my children," is another immortal meta-narrative to which many of us yoke ourselves. But I'm not so sure we Christians, at least, immerse ourselves in that narrative in the same way.
I think our Jewish brothers and sisters do a much better job of this. I have admittedly limited experiences of observing Shabbat, but every time I have been overwhelmed by how alive the Scriptures seeemed to be within the worshipping community. It's not ancient history, it's immersive story world, it's ongoing meta-narrative of which they are very much a part.
By contrast, in much of the Christian worship I have experienced, the Scriptures feel like dead words on a page. Not that we don't take them seriously, not that we don't treat them reverently and read them with our slow, sober NPR voices. But they're just not alive in the same way among the body of worshippers. I'd like to blame it on the Joel Osteens and Joyce Meyers of the world, with their prosperity gospel and self-help sermons, turning the Bible into a glorified reference and rule book. But I think the problem predates them.
And while I'm not totally sure how to convince others to do this, how to get them to "get" it, I have a feeling in my gut that says re-immersing ourselves in the great story, reclaiming the living Word in our worship, is what we who call ourselves the Christian people of God ought to be up to. I have a feeling in my gut that says seeing ourselves as interconnected players in a story much bigger than our own might just change the way we live out our interactions with all of God's children today.
Peace,
Catrina
PS - I saw Juno tonight at The Campus. Some of the dialogue felt like it was trying a little too hard to be clever, but other than that, it was a well-done dark comedy. Bonus points for apparently taking place in Minnesota (never tells you where Juno actually lives, but based on the contextual references, I'm guessing the town is a stand-in for Elk River). Thumbs up.
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