Auditions and the return of theatre

When the ancient Greek culture disappeared, so did theatre.

As we learned in the second week of class, it was centuries before formal theatre returned, even then it wasn't fully embraced again until Shakespeare's time. As Prof. Coogan said: "That's a long time with no theatre."

Which is not to say the world was without drama. Life is drama.

The early church was opposed to theatre, which helps explain why there was not a rapid rebirth. Yet the church kept drama alive. As our BBC documentary noted, the church, each day, kept theatre alive in "the mystery and drama of holy communion." The Mass itself was religious drama.

Over time, the church began to tell its most sacred stories in drama -- the story of the nativity, the story of Christ's passion, death and resurrection. Those dramas were told on the church steps, but soon the religious dramas left the church. They became the province of the people and theatre was reborn.

With that backdrop -- and with the admonition from Prof. Coogan that he could point to 19th century documents warning us Methodists to steer clear of the evil influences of theatre -- we launched into production planning and auditions for the medieval mystery play we will stage this semester from Noah's story.

My friend Melinda Teter is the director. Melinda entered seminary when I did, leaving a career in production with the LA Opera. It was a joy to see Melinda drawing on her gifts and expertise from her former vocation in service to her new path.

In our first year, I think many of us who came from other professions thought we needed to submerge those talents or distance ourselves from them. I delight now as I watch each of us acknowledge those past crafts and learn how to use them in seminary and in ministry.

It was fun, too, to watch Melinda direct each person who auditioned. Offering encouragement and praise while seeking to draw more energy and passion from each performance. (I also got the sense that she was also testing how well each person responds to direction.)

It had been years since I had auditioned for a play. I felt a wonderful sense of freedom in realizing that I truly didn't care what part I got or whether I got a part at all. In fact, I told Melinda I would happily just be a part of the menagerie.

We each read speeches from the voice of God and from the wife of Noah. And I had fun reading both. I had fun considering "God's motivation". And I had fun as Noah's wife scoffing at Noah and his little boat.

I realized anew the power of story, the power of words, and the power of drama to bring story and words to life.

I had forgotten what it feels like to walk onto a stage and, for a time, become someone else. I had forgotten both the freedom and the sense of responsibility to be true to character.

But I have never forgotten that "all the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players."