Backstage
Dave Faust
Last summer I taught for a couple of weeks at Haus Edelweiss, a training center for church leaders near Vienna, Austria. One day our schedule called for students and teachers to take a break and spend the day in Vienna, so a group of us piled into a bus and set out to see the sights.
Though I am not well-trained in art and architecture, I marveled at the beautiful gardens and sculptures visible at every turn in this historic city. A group of us toured the famous Vienna Opera House, where composers like Mozart and Beethoven performed their masterpieces in centuries past. The tour guide led us to the presidential box, five tiers up and directly facing center stage. After pausing for a moment so we could take in the view, our guide explained that the theatre is sold out for every performance, and its acoustics are so good that no electronic sound system is necessary.
I was even more impressed by what we saw backstage. Enormous pulleys and ropes lifted the largest curtains I've ever seen in my life. Big sections of the stage floor were fully portable, so the stage could be rearranged with new scenery in only a few minutes' time. As we watched, dozens of workers clad in blue jeans were milling around, moving pieces of the set into place in preparation for an upcoming performance. Most opera-goers would never see these people, but their work is essential for the show to go on.
I told the tour guide, "I'm surprised that the backstage area is so big."
"Oh, yes," she immediately replied. "The backstage is actually larger than the rest of the theatre."
I have preached in a lot of church buildings, and most of them have a small backstage that resembles a cluttered attic. Usually you can find an odd assortment of items there: dusty candelabra (pulled out occasionally for weddings), Christmas decorations that look like they haven't been used since 1957 but no one has the heart to throw them away, old music stands and coffee mugs, faded sheet music and tattered hymnals, a few well-worn baptismal robes.
Important things happen, though, in those cluttered quarters backstage. In some churches, that's where a group of elders put their hands on the minister's shoulder and pray for him before he preaches. Other times, happy friends or proud parents crowd backstage to watch a loved one emerge from the baptistery dripping with water and filled with joy.
In some ways, backstage has always been where the action is. The football team that wins on Saturday usually is the one that practiced well during the week. The sermon that touches hearts on Sunday was born in a preacher's study during hours of prayerful preparation. The rousing musical performance stirs the crowd only after the musician spent many hours practicing alone.
There is a spiritual backstage too—an invisible realm that nonetheless sets the stage for everything else. Even though Job's suffering took center stage, much was going on behind the scenes as Satan tried to bring him down and God used his troubles for good. When Jesus was crucified, the ugliness of betrayal, cruelty, and hatred took center stage. But backstage God was changing the scenery so a beautiful new drama could begin.
We can't always comprehend the ways of God, but one thing is clear. When we pray and serve and love and give, somehow we are joining the Lord where the most important work is done—backstage.
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Jan 16, 2000.
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