Not To Us, O Lord

In Shakespeare's play, The Life of Henry the Fifth, Act 4, Scene 8, the British have just won an unexpected victory over the French at Agincourt. They have had relatively few casualties and his men would love to pat themselves on the back. King Harry says, "Come, go we in procession to the village, And be it death proclaimed through our host To boast of this, or take that praise from God which is his only." He then commands, "Do we all holy rites: Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum, The dead with charity enclosed in clay;..."

The movie version of the play (Henry V, 1989, directed by and starring Kenneth Branagh) portrays that command. While the tired, mud-soaked and bloody men slowly walk the field, a young soldier begins singing these words to a haunting melody:

Non nobis, Domine, sed nomine tua gloria.

Other voices join his, then an orchestra, so that the last notes ring over the battlefield and in our minds for long moments afterward.

My own knowledge of Catholic Church history and Shakespeare's words reminded me that King Harry's command would not have been unusual. "Te Deum" refers to an ancient prayer (To you, God) and "Non nobis" is shorthand for Psalm 115. Before English became an accepted sacred language, the Bible was read widely in Latin. Most people couldn't read, so prayers and Psalms were memorized. The first line of each Psalm, in Latin, became a title for that Psalm and a memory jog so people would know which psalm to pray--or to sing as in this depiction in Henry V. "Non nobis, Domine" becomes in English:

Not to us, O Lord, not to us,
but to your Name give glory;
because of your love and because of your faithfulness.

To me, Psalm 115 is a prayer of mindfulness, of awareness that we have been blessed with powerful senses, and we don't use them. We can become like stone and metal idols that just sit on a shelf, uninvolved, uncommunicative. The last two verses of this psalm really stick with me:

The dead do not praise the Lord,
nor all those who go down into silence;
But we [emphasis mine] will bless the Lord, from this time forth for evermore.
Hallelujah!

If anyone is going to look around this earth and give thanks and praise for all that we've been given, it's not going to be the dead. This is a job for the living.

When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the morning light, for your life and strength. Give thanks for your food, and the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies with yourself.--Chief Tecumseh

I'm with the Chief, King Harry and Psalm 115. How about you?

Jesus Goes to the Movies

The Unitarian Universalist Christian Fellowship (UUCF) Revival 2009 began on a stormy Thursday in Tulsa, OK. After flying through dark, angry clouds that were hurling lightning bolts and rain with equal ferocity, a safe landing drew my fervant prayers of gratitude. I think God wanted me to remember the opening scene.

I made my way to the Twilight Zone Cinema Room, an intimate movie theater on the lower floor of All Souls Unitarian Church and dropped into a series of film clips selected by Rev. Ron Robinson to show portrayals of Jesus through the years. From silent movies like "King of Kings" through talkies like "The Greatest Story Ever Told" (Charleton Heston as John the Baptist), Jesus is Brother Alien (thanks, Ron, for this phrase), a mystical pale ghost, brooding, intense, set apart. Light skin, light eyes (usually blue!), long medium brown hair and wearing a spotless, long white garment (how does he keep that clean?!). The retelling of his story is a mixture from all the Gospels and sticks closely to traditional Biblical interpretations. With only one or two exceptions, this other worldly image dominates the screen.

Until...

1973. Two films burst on the scene.

The first was "Godspell", a musical that opened off Broadway on May 17, 1971 and was translated to film in 1973. Riotous, joyous, shimmering with energy, the film is based on a series of parables lifted from the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus is a young man with a large afro, baggy pants with suspenders and sometimes dons the makeup of a clown. The music has many styles--vaudeville, rock, folk, pop--and lyrics not written by Stephen Schwartz were taken largely from the Episcopal hymnal. The setting is New York City and the cast plays an acting troupe.

The second was "Jesus Christ Superstar", a rock opera created by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice which was staged on Broadway in 1971 and hit the theaters the same year as "Godspell". In the film, the setting is modern Israel (the scenery is glorious) and the cast portrays a movie company going on location to make a movie about Jesus. Although Jesus is shown as being touched by Divinity, this Jesus is totally human--tender, angry, frustrated, questioning, prodding, loving, hurting. The rock music underlines the emotions and the lyrics, punctuated with modern language and idioms, mirror the Gospel stories.

After these two films, the doors are open for work such as Zefirelli's "Jesus of Nazareth", "The Last Temptation of Christ", "Jesus" (The Mini Series), "Color of the Cross" and "The Passion", working with a more human Jesus, new interpretations and attempting to bring historical authenticity to setting and context. But even with these portrayals, the storyline remains fairly traditional.

I was in high school when "Godspell" and "Jesus Christ Superstar" arrived. I have to admit the Brother Alien image of the past left me cold. The Jesus of these two movies roared into my blood like Spirit fire. I saw, no felt, through music and images that here was a Jesus to whom I could relate, who really did know what life on earth was like, who at times argued with God about His purpose for him, but pushed on with his ministry, knowing ultimately that God was with him. I still hum and sing the music of "Godspell" when I need a lift, and I watch "Jesus Christ Superstar" every Good Friday.

Close your eyes. What image of Jesus comes to mind? Is that an image that will propel you to live his teachings? If not, maybe you need a different image.