Remember this?
“Here is the church”?? No, not really. The lesson that distinguishes “church” from the building is one I’ve heard for so long that I can’t remember the first time. “We are the church.” This is why I still, almost to a fault, I always say “church building” when referring to the physical structure, no matter who I’m talking with. I don’t use the expression “go to church” very often, either.
So what is church? Where is church? Voices from my past come to mind, but a new-to-me voice has just resounded with a similar message. I have just watched the classic movie “On the Waterfront” for the first time.
The movie’s musical underscoring—at a few points, appropriately prominent—struck me as masterful, and no wonder, since it was composed by Maestro Leonard Bernstein. But the acting and the dramatic story line would have been compelling even without musical support. Here is a famous monologue (omitting the interruptions), spoken by a priest to the stevedores, after a mob-directed death of one of them:
Boys, this is my church! And if you don’t think Christ is down here on the waterfront, you’ve got another guess coming.
Every morning when the hiring boss blows his whistle, Jesus stands alongside you in the shape-up. He sees why some of you get picked and some of you get passed over. He sees the family men worrying about getting the rent and getting food in the house for the wife and the kids. He sees you selling your souls to the mob for a day’s pay. What does Christ think of the easy-money boys who do none of the work and take all of the gravy? And how does he feel about the fellas who wear a hundred-and-fifty dollar suits and diamond rings on your union dues and your kickback money? And how does he, who spoke up without fear against every evil, feel about your silence?
You want to know what’s wrong with our waterfront? It’s the love of a lousy buck. It’s making love of a buck, the cushy job, more important than the love of man! It’s forgetting that every fella down here is your brother in Christ. But remember, Christ is always with you. Christ is in the shape-up, he’s in the hatch, he’s in the union hall, he’s kneeling right here beside Dugan. And he’s saying with all of you, “if you do it to the least of mine you do it to me.” And what they did to Joey and what they did to Dugan they’re doing to you. And you, you, all of you! And only you, only you with God’s help have the power to knock ‘em out for good.
Here is a link to the entire speech, which occurs after a mob-directed death.
Truly, if we Christians don’t think we are the church everywhere, we are to be pitied. (I’ll pass over the obvious issue with who in the movie is really a “brother in Christ.”) As go the people, so goes the church.
Beyond the location of church and the identities of the people, the priest’s call for redemptive, purifying action is heard in this monologue like a trumpet. And I, today in the real world, must hear that call.
Earnestly Speaking 