Light on Silence: A podcast preview

Last September, I attended the wedding of friends in Morden, Manitoba. It was a picturesque prairie day as my wife and I drove the highways past beautiful crops ready for harvest and scattered farmhouses, some with children playing happily in the yard.

As we drove along, preparing to celebrate love, I thought for the first time about the complexity of the lives and loves that inhabited those houses, and how things may not be as perfect as they seem. 

Forty-eight hours before the wedding, I had been in Brooklyn, New York, mixing and mingling at a cast party with the artists of Silent Light, an opera that had just debuted at the National Sawdust theatre.

An hour before that, the artists had been wrapped in the turmoil of a story of a Mexican Mennonite father, his affair with a woman in the community, and its impacts on his wife, family and himself.

Based on the 2007 film directed by Carlos Raygadas, the opera is the latest example of the arts holding up a mirror  to Mennonite life, culture and morality. From Casey Plett’s book On Community to Wanda Koop’s paintings to the music of Victor Davies, artists from Mennonite backgrounds have long drawn on their cultural and faith backgrounds to create art.

In recent years, those artistic examinations have gained more prominence, with Miriam Toews’ critical eye toward the culture winning numerous literary awards, and the film adaptation of Women Talking earning an Academy Award.

Now, far away from northern Mexico (and from Morden, Manitoba, for that matter), it was Silent Light’s turn. As I embedded myself among the award-winning artistic team creating the opera—none of whom are Mennonite—I held curiosity and trepidation I hadn’t felt when enjoying works by Mennonites.

How will they see us? Will they think we’re a bunch of backward yokels? How much will they get right? How much does the world judge us? 

Worse yet, are we wrong for living the way we do? Does our moral code hold us back from addressing issues head on? What will we see when the performing arts hold up their artistic rendering of us? 

The responses I got to my silent questions in Brooklyn were nothing like what I expected. I’m excited to share them with you.