Where did Philip meet the Ethiopian eunuch?

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Progressive Christian

Last updated on: February 23, 2007 at 2:28 pm by Cathleen Falsani

2007-02-23T14:28:00-07:00 Cathleen Falsani

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

GODSTUFF:

FEAR AND LOATHING IN LE PRIORIE: DON’T DROP THE BABY JESUS

I do not wish to be a martyr.

First of all, I don’t like to be uncomfortable, so stake-burning, iron maidens and coach class for longer than six hours are right out.

And then there’s the fact that I’m a coward.

Woody Allen once said that during the Vietnam War he was classified as 4P — “In case of war, I’m a hostage.”

That’s me. My brother the Air Force bomber pilot got the feats-of-derring-do genes in our family.

If ever caught in a martyrdom/hostagery-type situation, all my captors would need to do to crack me is over-soy my food. I’d bloat and whatever modicum of bravery I might reserve would go straight out the window.

So, you might imagine my discomfort earlier this week as I sat through a three-hour production of “Dialogues of the Carmelites” at Chicago’s Lyric Opera. The French opera, written in 1957 by Francis Poulenc, recounts the story, based on actual events, of the persecution and eventual executions of 16 Carmelite nuns during the very last days of the French Revolution’s “Reign of Terror” in 1794.

The basic story arc of the opera, which was starkly and splendidly produced by the Lyric, was to venerate the selfless actions of the nuns, while also making the point that all life is sacred and when we — as humans, nations or corporations — forget that, what ensues is inhumanity.

In the second act, an angry mob of revolutionaries comes to evict the Carmelites from their convent. Mother Marie, the superior, tells one of the tormentors that the nuns are essentially servants, no matter what costume they might be wearing.

“The people don’t need servants,” the tormentor mocks.

“They have a great need for martyrs, and that is a service that we can provide,” Mother Marie answers.

“In times like these, to die is meaningless,” he retorts.

“To live is meaningless, when life is devalued to the point of absurdity,” she retorts scornfully.

Bold stuff, indeed. Noble, really. I suppose the purpose of such dialogue is to raise consciousness, for the audience to examine itself, and, perhaps for a few of us at least, to indulge self-delusion and convince ourselves we’d do the same thing as the valorous Mother Marie and her sisters willing to sacrifice their lives so that others might live, spiritually speaking.

I tried. But I couldn’t get past another character with whom I deeply identified: Sister Blanche of the Agony of Christ. A nervous poodle of a woman, Blanche is a huge coward. Literally afraid of shadows. And loud noises. At one point a bang startles her and she drops the nuns’ precious porcelain figurine of Baby Jesus, shattering it.

Sister Blanche joins the convent because she is afraid of life. Everything frightens her. Life seems like one big threat. She has no idea the sheltering walls of the convent would become anything but a safe haven. To their credit, the Carmelites try to warn her. A convent is no place to hide from the world, they tell her.

When the mob arrives to strip the sisters of their habits and, eventually, throw them in jail to await their executions, Sister Blanche runs away and hides at her family’s ruined estate where she occupies her time feeling guilty and worrying about burning a sad-looking pot of stew.

Earlier in the story, Sister Blanche was assigned, with another novice nun, Sister Constance (portrayed with infectious charm and grace by the wonderful soprano Anna Christy), to stand vigil over the body of their prioress, Madame de Croissy, in the convent’s chapel.

It was night. Madame de Croissy had been pretty spooky in life, and was fiercely so in death. When Sister Constance leaves her alone to go look for their replacements, skittish Sister Blanche tries to pray, panics and then begins to flee. But Mother Marie catches her and scolds the young nun for her cowardice.

When Sister Blanche tries to return to the coffin, Mother Marie stops her.

“An unfinished task is best forgotten,” the superior says.

That line gave me pause, and apparently I wasn’t alone. The two dapper men in front of me as we exited the Lyric after Tuesday’s performance were discussing Mother Marie’s comment. “What do you think that was supposed to mean?” one said to the other.

I wondered the same thing, especially when, at the end of the third act, as the guillotine is cutting down the Carmelites one by one while they sing a soul-stirring “Salve Regina,” Sister Blanche reappears.

Just in time to be beheaded.

Maybe that wasn’t the best move on her part. I don’t mean that flippantly. Perhaps she should have heeded Mother Marie’s sage words, that sometimes unfinished business should remain just that.

I couldn’t help but think it was Sister Blanche’s fear that drove her to the guillotine. Fear of not doing the right thing. Fear of breaking a vow, of death, of not being a martyr.

Or perhaps it was her fear of life — the solitary life of one paralyzed by fear and left behind — that led to her demise.

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