"I have bought your soul for God"

If you know me at all, you know I like musicals. If you like musicals enough to have bothered even a passing conversation with me about them (or if I have subjected you to it whether you like them or not), you know that "Les Miserables" is my favorite. This afternoon, I attended a matinee performance of said show at the Queen's Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue. It was the third time I had seen the show live but the first professional performance.

I have to confess I have been on a non-Les-Mis phase recently. I mean, at one point or another, I could have probably recited the whole show. I know all the songs. I can explicate its merits at the top of the hat. But I have not been as interested in it recently--maybe it was getting a little stale?
Suffice it to say, this rendition reminded me of exactly why I believe this show is the greatest ever to play on Broadway. Just seeing it in a huge theatre, a professional orchestra filling the space with the score's throbbing intensity, a full cast of magnificent singers belting their solos to the back wall, constituted a glorious experience. But it was the message that struck me afresh and left me so delighted with it once again.
The most amazing thing about Les Mis is the fact that most every night for the past 25 years, crowds have shown up to hear a story that speaks truth about grace and faith and salvation. I must assume that this story doesn't mean the same things to them as it does to me--perhaps they just show up to feel sad over Eponine or listen to Valjean and Javert's magnificent solos. No doubt Les Mis is artistically exceptional, but the story itself is the power behind that--the story, communicated through breath-taking lyrics that speak frankly of the Christian faith of the characters. In the opening, the priest tells Valjean: "By the witness of the martyrs / by the passion and the blood / God has raised you out of darkness / I have bought your soul for God." Does that ever happen on Broadway? Later, Valjean begins the closing number of Act 1 by singing, "One day more / another day, another destiny / this neverending road to calvary." The power of that idea sneaks up on you--it is an integral part of the piece. Or how about in Act 2, when Valjean kneels by the sleeping Marius and prays, "God on high / hear my prayer / in my need / You have always been there." Does the secular audience merely applaud because the actor can reach very high notes? Or do they completely miss it when the dying Valjean kneels before his crucifix to pray, or when Fantine tells him, "Come with me / where chains will never bind you / all your grief / at last, at last behind you. / God in heaven / look down on him in mercy," and he responds, "Forgive me all my trespasses and take me to your glory."
Maybe they miss it. Maybe they think it's a lovely show in spite of all that religious nonsense. But perhaps not. Perhaps the human soul inately longs for the beauty of the gospel.
In any case, I don't care why they come--but I am glad that when they come, they hear these words, and I hope the words remain in the hearts of all present when the music is hushed and the theatre is finally empty. I love that this musical exists.
As a side note, seeing it this time around, I really appreciated the multiple levels of parallelism in the plot, which are beautifully highlighted by placement and recycling of musical themes. Let's look at a few, and then I will call it quits on the raving. For starters, there's sort of the organizing contrast of the plot, which is the effects of grace on Valjean and Javert. Valjean's confrontation with divine grace begins the play and results in his conversion and recreation, Javert's ends the play and results in his destruction. Fantine and Eponine are actually strongly parallel characters--both live with unrequited love, both sing very significant solos about those experiences, and both die in parallel positions: Fantine towards the beginning of Act 1, Eponine towards that of Act 2. This is enforced when the two appear as Valjean dies, eventually singing in unison and stand on either side of him throughout the finale. Cossette's story contrasts with both that of Fantine and Eponine--she should have ended up miserably as both of them did, but actually gains the love she desires and lives out a happy life because of Valjean's care and sacrifice.
I could easily produce more, but for now, those will suffice. It was just a wonderful piece of the play's artistry that struck me for the first time this afternoon.
As I snuffled through the end of the play, what really struck me was the powerof the grace illustrated in this story. To see all the characters standing together, singing of hope for the future, truly brings home how much their lives were different because a poor priest chose to give away his candlesticks to spare a man being sent back to jail. Isn't it amazing that one life could have so great an impact? I hope and pray that I and all Christ's followers would live out his grace in such a courageous way to make a tangible impact on those around them.
On a side note, I'm leaving London tomorrow. I am so excited to see the countryside! But this trip has been a blessing.