There are memories from my childhood that are so very vivid and clear. Waking up to the song of a Whip-poor-will on a Saturday morning at Grandma and Grandpa Keith’s house. Riding my bike around the farm to check on all of the pigs at Grandma and Grandpa Gordon’s house. Carrying firewood to the basement so we wouldn’t freeze in the winter; meticulous stacking was required. I remember sounds, smells, and textures attached to all of those and many more. But if I had to choose one thing (outside of parents, siblings, and Jesus) that holds precious territory in my mind, it might just be The Sound of Music. I’m sure to many of you that seems like the most ridiculous statement ever. I even talked to three friends today who have NEVER watched it. How is that even possible? (I’m currently reexamining my friend criteria.) I’m going to attempt to explain. Warning: this may take a few paragraphs.
From the opening scene of Maria on the mountains in Austria to the closing scene where the family is escaping the German occupation, mountains can represent life and the challenges that we find ourselves in. Psalm 121 says, “I look to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth”. The entire show ebbs and flows through good, evil, and all the in-betweens. That’s just how our fallen world works. It’s necessary to understand that the highs and the lows are all part of living. But whether we’re on the top of the mountain enjoying the view and the breeze or in the dark valley wondering if we’re ever going to climb out again, our eyes should be fixed on Jesus.
Maria was a bit of a “problem”. She was “unpredictable as weather” and “flighty as a feather”. She was a “darling” and a “demon” and a “lamb”. She was also a “headache” and an “angel”. She was complex. I was (am) a lot like Maria. I had the opportunity to play Maria in our community theater at the age of 19. The passion that I grew up with for this show was easily carried over to the stage. For the months of rehearsals and the two weekends of performances, I was able to escape the valley that was my life and live vicariously through Maria. She sang with confidence, spoke without reservation, and underneath it all she just wanted to do what God wanted her to do. It was actually a very magical or spiritual experience for me in so many ways.
Marcia Blair and Edna Moster were the greatest director/producer combination that our community had ever seen. I had worked under them in high school productions and found myself constantly in awe of their eye for detail. Their brilliance was always on display. But in retrospect, I think the greater gift was the confidence they had in me. Priceless! I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to those amazing women.
When I saw the announcement that the 60th anniversary of the show would be celebrated in theaters, I was thrilled. Initially, the plan was to find a time when all of the girls in my family could go watch it together. To know that group is to know how complicated that would be. When that plan failed, I texted a few friends. Sunday in Greenfield at 1 pm was the best option.
I arrived 30 minutes early to ensure I was able to sit in my preferred seat. Much to my surprise, both of my preferred seats were already occupied. I assessed the remaining scenarios and found one that seemed better than walking out. This is where my day was hijacked.
A person (I genuinely couldn’t have identified man versus woman at this point) walked in the theater and proceeded to sit with items that had already been placed in my preferred seats. Black shoes, black pants, black baggy hoodie sweatshirt (with the hood up), and sunglasses so large that they almost completely covered the face. (Did I mention it was 90 degrees on Sunday?) For the duration of the show (almost 3 hours), the sweatshirt stayed on, the hood stayed up, and the sunglasses covered. To add to my concern, two older women entered the theater who obviously knew this mystery person. However, after a brief interaction, he refused to move seats and sit with them and they refused to climb the stairs to his perch above everyone else. At least one family went to the theater staff and voiced concern. This was understandable, as everyone was still reeling from the events of the previous days (and even weeks). Unfortunately, no action was taken. At that point, I needed to make a decision; stay or go.
I’ve lived much of my life making decisions out of fear. At times, it was appropriate. But most of the time, it was disproportionate. I was looking at or to the wrong thing(s). I found myself angry about the recent loss that we had experienced with Charlie. Angry about the discord being sown by the enemy. Angry about the idea of being fearful to even sit in a movie theater and enjoy a viewing of my favorite movie of all time. Clearly, I had to stay.
As I remained situationally aware while also attempting to enjoy the show, I was reminded that this was just another scene in the spiritual battle that plays out in our lives. Mountains aren’t always safe. Valleys aren’t always dark. Throughout each and every day, we’re presented with choices. Those choices carry consequences. Various scenes in the show caught me by surprise with the level of emotion that I experienced even after all these years.
This seems like just a long rambling of disconnected thoughts. And maybe it is. But most of the time, I find that at least one other person finds at least one idea to resonate with. Instead of continuing to seek out more news outlets who only report garbage. Instead of looking to social media to further fuel our ideas (be they right or wrong). Let’s sit quietly with God and consider what He might be saying to us; individually and corporately.
This movie drew countless parallels to current day. What is the next right thing? Are we called to speak up? Is there a call for action? The answer is likely different for each of us. But I hope and pray that we sincerely seek it out. Even if we’re afraid.