While I was vacationing in Los Angeles recently, inspiration jumped up and bit me.
I didn't recognize it at first - I feel it so seldom. But eventually I gave in.I decided to visit Disneyland, then visit the old mission at San Juan Capistrano and contrast the two.
The plan was to show that Disneyland was superficially created FOR people while Capistrano was carefully created BY people.
I planned to show that Disneyland was fun, but Capistrano was fundamental.
Then I'd contrast Capistrano's depth and stability with the changing surfaces of Disneyland.
But it didn't work out that way. After visiting both places, I didn't see much difference between them at all. In fact, there was a family resemblance.
Walt's World and the old mission had met at Middle-America - where amusement and ideals now blend together like the Everly Brothers.
At San Juan Capistrano, I took in the 17th-century blacksmith shop with its forges and tongs. I strolled the gorgeous gardens and gawked at the period dress. I bought trinkets and toys in the gift shop.
At Disneyland I watched good battle evil in a sound-and-light show full of sin and the supernatural. I bowed at door #33 - Walt's shrine. Then I bought souvenirs emblazoned with Disney's celluloid saints.
I left California thinking all America was now following the prescription of Mary Poppins: A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.
Give people "lessons in good," such thinking goes, but also give them a "good time."
And I thought that was unfortunate. I returned to Utah armed with inspiration for another column. Instead of contrasting Disney's silly birds with the Capistrano spiritual swallows, I'd show how similar the two places had become
Then I'd sound the Voice of Warning:
Beware of religion that gets too amusing.
Beware of amusement that tells you how to live.
But my heart just wasn't in it. I didn't really feel that way. The truth was I'd enjoyed myself at both places and - amid the glitz and heavy-handed marketing - I'd actually left feeling fulfilled.
Capistrano - a Christian shrine - had become buoyant and fun. Disney gave me a chance to mull over some thoughts about good and evil in American culture.
Spiritual food, I finally decided, was actually a buffet. What you choose to nourish you, what you choose to avoid, is a matter of taste.
The key is to select carefully and not just mindlessly down what's before you.
Purists look at Capistrano and see only the empty calories there. They feel the same about Disney. But there's also wheat bread to be had at both places if you look.
Once back in Utah, I kept wanting to link Capistrano and Disney to another personal experience, but I couldn't put a finger on it.
Then it hit me.
Four years ago I flew to Denver to cover the visit of John Paul II. And Colorado was a carnival atmosphere - literally. Billboards showed the Pontiff wearing in-line skates ("The Holy Roller Arrives!"). Pitchmen hocked everything from posters to pope mugs. I saw foam-rubber miters and watched people eat pope-sickles.
It was a sideshow. And I wrote the whole event off as a loss. There was just too much hucksterism for anything real to occur.
Then the pope stood before the crowds and began to speak. His words cut through it all. Amid all that junk food he offered spiritual loaves and fishes. And the people gobbled it up.
That's how I felt at Capistrano. Amid the candy and ice cream, the place still served spiritual food. You could even find it at Disneyland amid the midway atmosphere. You just had to look carefully.
If you patiently read the menu, the good stuff was there.