A Lesson from the Experience of Community Theatre
A few summers ago, my son, Mason, was in a community theatre rendition of Into the Woods. It was an enormous commitment, and meant half of his summer was spent in rehearsals. Despite his small role, he was all in and loved every minute of it. During production week, he was like a kid at Christmas—bursting at the seams with excitement to have me see it.
The second I saw him after Friday’s show, he pounced on me, asking: “What was your favorite part? Who was your favorite character? What was your favorite song?’ All that night and the next day, he peppered me with more questions, making me dissect the show almost scene by scene. The thing is, I didn’t do very well answering his questions. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy the show; it’s that I wasn’t as invested as he was. I was a passive audience member; he was active. He knew most of the other actors’ lines and could recite them verbatim. He was a bit disappointed that I couldn’t.
Once I knew his expectation, I watched Sunday’s performance far differently than Friday’s. Having a better handle on the complicated plot of the play, I paid attention to the details so I’d be ready for Mason’s questions after. I was surprised to find that involving myself so much gave me an enhanced appreciation of every aspect of the show, to the point where I was blown away by the talent on that stage.
As I reflected on that experience, I saw a connection with my involvement in the Mass.
Applying the Lesson
When I passively attend, I don’t walk away with as much. Sure, I’ve checked it off my list of responsibilities, but I don’t leave with a deep appreciation for what I just experienced. On the other hand, when I actively participate, fully aware of the structure and ritual of the Mass, I dig deeper into the “why” of the details. I listen harder to the prayers that change, and I find a new layer of meaning in the ones that don’t. That’s when I’m blown away by the grace tucked inside the different aspects of the Mass. I also feel that grace touch my heart and soul, changing and refilling me in all the ways I need.
Constantly on the lookout for ways to inspire my kids to invest themselves in the Mass, I decided to try the technique Mason used with me for his play. On the car ride home from Mass each week, I began asking my kids “What is your takeaway?” That was years ago, and I’ve been asking them that same question ever since. It’s amazing how it has successfully challenged my kids to become active members of the Mass so they fully receive all the grace tucked within.
For Reflection: If I knew I were going to be asked “What is your takeaway?” after every Mass, what would I discover?
