The other night I saw "Everyman," a 500-year-old Christian morality play being mounted locally by the Meat & Potatoes theater troupe.
The play had been brought into the 21st century — complete with geeky in-laws, a Texas cattle baron and the Everyman character portrayed as a woman — but when the trappings were all trimmed away, it was the same, ancient story inside: When a messenger from God comes to call Everyman home, he tries to get other folks to come along to keep him company. His friends, his goods and his family members all have better things to do. The only one who agrees to travel with him into the great beyond is the figure who represents his deeds on earth.
It's not a message that warms the hearts of evangelical Christians — all that focus on works — but it's a message I take to heart. All we have going for us in life are the things we do. It's the message at the center of the book of Ecclesiastes. Everything under the sun is vanity, the Preacher tells us, except: "I perceive there is nothing better than that a man should rejoice in his own works, for that is his portion." (Ecc. 3:22).
Doing good on earth. That's what made St. Therese of Lisseux a true saint, I think. When asked what she planned to do in heaven, she said she hoped to spend her heaven "doing good on earth."
I like that.
And I like what Nobel novelist I.B. Singer had to say. Someone suggested to him that if we have free will and we don't believe in God, why not spend our lives indulging in pleasures and personal gain? Singer turned the thought on its head. If there is no God and we have free will, he replied, why not choose to help others and be good people?
I've looked at such things a dozen ways. And the only thing that seems to transcend our gritty world — whether heaven awaits or not — is to sacrifice personally so that others don't suffer. Anything else, as the old TV commercial had it, would be uncivilized.
And so, with all its updating and theatrical license, the little "Everyman" play I saw ended up striking a chord not only with me, but with others as well.
People have argued against its ideas, its assumptions and its value as a piece of theater for 500 years now. But just the fact that the play's still with us after 500 years says more about it than anything the critics offer.
Time not only tugs us toward the grave — like Everyman — it also sifts and saves things that deserve to be preserved.
And when today's naysayers have been pushing up daisies for a century, I have a feeling Everyman and his message will still be with us, telling us things we need to hear.
e-mail: jerjohn@desnews.com