Tag: religion

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A state of imperfect perfection

On Thursdays, I go to the Green Mill in Lakeville for Trivia Night because some of my fellow cast members from Mind Over Matt were part of the team “Just For Fun” (which is kind of a misnomer since some of them are ultra-competitive) and they invited me to join them after Thursday night rehearsals. But most of the team came together because they’re members of the same church. They’re not Bible-thumpers by any means, but sometimes religion will come up in conversation.

There was one time I mentioned something about how some person or people were perfect—I don’t think I was referring to myself because I’m way too humble to say that out loud—and one of them commented that no one is perfect, that God created us all as flawed human beings. Something along those lines, anyway. I can dig that: we’re all sinners, Christ died for our sins, God loves us anyway, etc. (I don’t mean to belittle religion, but I don’t want to do any research to find biblical quotes for the lead-in to this blog entry.)

My question is this: even though God created us as imperfect beings, aren’t we still perfect in some sense?

The universe was created. *BOOM!* And then there was light and oceans and Elvis and a bunch of other stuff. From that point, everything that has ever happened was based on a cause-and-effect relationship. What happened only a second ago led to this moment in time, exactly the way it should have. Cause and effect.

Couldn’t that be considered perfection? We’re all in our current state of existence because of all of the events that occurred prior to this moment. I snore, I sometimes drool in my sleep, I probably don’t shower often enough… I’m a flawed human being, but everything that’s happened before now has led up to my snoring and drooling and lack of showering.

There’s no one else like me. No events that have occurred in the past or that will occur in the future will result in another me. (That’s probably for the best: it saves me the time and effort I’d need to hunt down and kill the other one.) I am the one and only Shawn Clarke Bakken. I’m just the way I’m supposed to be, a state of existence that includes all my flaws. I exist in a state of imperfect perfection.

And having written all of that, I wonder if God sounds anything like Billy Joel as He sits up in Heaven singing, “I love you just the way you are.”

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Jesus saves, passes to Moses, Moses scores!

That title may be thoroughly misleading, but I like the sound of it anyway. Plus this post is related to religion and Jesus and stuff along those lines, so I make no apologies.

I thought it might be a good idea to delay this post for a day or two after writing about Scrooge because I didn’t want it to sound like I’m going to back out of my offer to help with the show. I said I would, so I’m gonna. However, when I got home after that first rehearsal… part of me had misgivings and I’m not really sure why.

It’s not like it was a bad experience. It didn’t last long enough to be a bad experience. I was at the church for maybe three hours and not all of it was dancing and singing (I spent the first chunk of time finding a jacket and pants for my costume). Besides, I was in a musical theater revue group at college for two years—I’ve done this stuff before—so it’s not like the experience is going to leave an eternal scar on my soul.

The only thing that I could think of after getting home was what happened when we wrapped for the afternoon. The latter portion of rehearsal was singing; given that I didn’t know any of the songs, let alone the lyrics, I was reading everything off a sheet of paper and kinda humming and singing quietly. Consequently, the other three guys’ voices were getting smothered by the females. Not that I’ll make that much of a difference, but four is better than three. Or at least louder than three.

Incidentally, the person typing out the lyrics either didn’t proofread his/her work very carefully or just didn’t care, but whatever the case, some of the typos are pretty awesome. Aside from people telling each other to “Marry Christmas”, the females were supposed to sing “Gory to the newborn King.” I’m told the show has some really impressive special effects, but I doubt any of them involve fake blood.

After we finished, Pastor Vickie (the person leading the singing) had us gather around into a prayer circle. Not a big deal, I’m cool with holding hands and bowing my head. However, as she talked more and more about how we were doing it all for the sake of the church, bringing people in so they could experience God’s love… I don’t want to misrepresent the message she was sending, but it was a fairly long prayer and for most of the time she was talking, I kept thinking “Not true, not true, not true…”

I’m not saying I have no sense of faith or religion or spirituality. It was that message in particular. I didn’t agree to do this for the church. Screw the church, I’m doing this for my friend. Screw the church, I’m doing this for the audience. Screw the church, I’m doing this for me.

Just a second… nope, didn’t burst into flames. I thought I should wait for a moment, just in case. But here’s my thoughts on the matter: my understanding is that within the Christian belief system, we all have a direct relationship with God. He’s all-powerful, so He’s hugging me everywhere I go. I can stand anywhere and give a high-five to Jesus. For me, churches are unnecessary. I don’t need a conduit between me and the Big Guy Upstairs. Doing something for the church? Forget it.

I’m trying to make the world a better place. Helping my friend: another male townsperson will make her job as the director easier, give her a little more peace of mind. Helping the audience: making Scrooge a good show will put a smile on their faces (even if they aren’t visited by the Holy Spirit during the performance). Helping me: I’m helping other people. I’m trying to make the world a better place.

If that involves being onstage inside a church, no problem. If someone thinks the church is a required part of the equation and says so on my behalf, well, that might be what pushed the wrong buttons for me last weekend. I’m hoping it doesn’t happen again. I’m hoping I can keep going to rehearsal on Saturdays, work on my singing and dancing and eventually give the audience a great show. And if I do a really good job, who knows? Maybe I’ll be walking out to the parking lot after a performance one night and get a high-five from Jesus.