September 16, 2006
more sermon thinking...
Follow the extended link for the morass that is my sermon thinking thus far...
I am thinking a lot about Prospero's words from Shakespeare's The Tempest
You do look, my son, in a moved sort,This is not the whole of the speech, but it is the beginning of what I think is Prospero's shift in thinking. He is beginning to fear his own death at the hands of Caliban, Trinculo, and Stephano. Is this the beginning of Prospero's disillusionment?
As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
- Prospero Act 4 Scene 1, The Tempest
Now my charms are all o'erthrown,Here good ol' Prospero has left illusion behind him. The spirits are no longer in his thrall. And yet now he has let bitterness and rage go. His dukedom is restored. And he is finally at liberty. Prayer...lovely. He has left bitterness behind him. He has fogiven those who wanted him dead...his sister and those who believed him dead, and Caliban and those who desired his death on the island.
And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.
- Prospero, Epilogue, The Tempest
Disillusionment is a gift. Facing our mortality and other events that compell such honesty often bring about disillusionment. And it is far from being some curse. It is always the precursor to liberty.
The lyrics from Grand Illusion by Styx are fun as well and will likely get a mention in the sermon as well. We often get caught up in worldly illusion. "America spells competition. Join us in our blind ambition. Get yourself a brand new motor car." In the 1970's Dennis DeYoung was all about getting us to see our materialism as falling prey to illusion. I guess Dennis was the first Emergent! Anyway, this is the work of illusion.
Though my sermon does not really seem to be going in this direction, I am also thinking that utopianism is simply an illusion. Prospero creates an ideal life. Styx reminds us of what we think of as ideal. Perhaps the disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane are also imagining a perfect world where their savior rids them of Rome.
The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Jesus sees his path clearly. And he sees his friends in their weakness. Nonetheless, salvation is to come in spite of the weakness of those whom Jesus calls friends.
This is the kind of garden that Gethsemane is.
Posted by tripp at September 16, 2006 09:41 PM