Cabaret

No, the title really doesn't have anything to do with what I'm writing, but it's the musical I'm listening to at the moment... :) I found out that Pandora does genre stations, so I typed in "showtunes", and discovered a fount of happiness.

So, returning to last night and the update I was supposed to give after the auditions--but didn't because I forgot to take my laptop with me--I discovered something interesting.

I am an actor. I kind of had an inkling before that every time I was backstage in all black I was just masquerading as something else, but I really am an actor. Last night I was in a pole-barn that was not yet finished being renovated, with a bunch of people who haven't the faintest idea how to do either a French or a British accent (I think I heard Russian though... oddly enough), it was dusty, and there weren't many people there--but I was loving every minute of it. Did I mention the play is a melodrama? I think it's going to be fun... if I make it.

I really do hope I make it.

In other news, I met with my pastor today to talk about making some drama. I love how much he wants to bring theatre into the church, he's got a kind of catching enthusiasm about it. The topic of the next couple of months is going to be grace. Grace that heals, forgives, frees, and more. The sermon series began this last Sunday, and will continue through ... November... I think... :)

It's odd, really, the themes that I see in the Church of today. There seems to be a kind of quiet revolution in the thinking of the church that's happening lately. It makes me wonder, has this begun only lately, or is it just that I finally started paying attention? I'm rather inclined to believe the latter, but to hear older church leaders talk makes me wonder if it isn't actually the former.

But grace is what I was thinking of today... specifically stories of grace. It's such a mystery, this grace. It's a product of an unfailing and immeasurable love, and it tends to evoke a like love in return. It is not forced, but can only be offered and received by faith--a faith that does not understand, but trusts the Giver anyway. The angels themselves cannot comprehend it. If the Satan could, the great War of Souls would be finished and he would again enter Heaven's gates. It's strange, that these beings so superior to humanity in so many ways should be outside this mystery--understanding is reserved for God, the accepting and acting upon it is given only to the weak sons and daugters of Adam and Eve.

But what is it? As a church-kid the definition taught to me as a child was "a gift I don't deserve", but surely it's so much more than that. Grace says "I love you" before the receiver is even able to hear, let alone willing. It whispers in the darkness of despair "I am here". Grace says that I don't deserve it, but should accept it anyway.

God, You are truly amazing.

Am I making this more difficult than it should be? He makes the simple to confound the wise. Grace is blue skies and a gentle breeze. It is a warm fall rain that brings a breath of clean heavenly spring to a world falling asleep in its winter. It is a shoulder and a tissue where some would offer rebukes for foolishness. It is the music of the saints through the ages--a song that none else know how to sing. The stars sing of Glory, the angels of honor, but only the fallen race of Adam can sing of the fiercely beautiful Grace.

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen.

But Grace?

Grace. Grace is the cause of whatever hope we have. Grace is what gives us the knowledge of the unseen. It is not content with indifference, this grace. Unmatched in gentleness, it is yet fierce in its demands. It will not be ignored, it will not be brushed aside. Either accepted or rejected, it must have something done with it.

Crap.

How am I supposed to write a 5-minute sketch on that?