Recently, as both a massive surprise to
myself and with great loss of personal dignity, I developed a love of
the TV show The Bachelorette. Granted, I only watched two episodes, but those two
episodes, like crack, were more than enough to guarantee addiction.
In my defense, a significant amount of
my enjoyment is ironic. I mean what other show can support so many cliche story lines that it spawns both a drinking game and a fantasy
league. At the same time, I actually felt a little emotional when
quasi-Mormon Jeff With One F proposed to Emily the Blonde. Against my
own expectations I had actually invested emotionally in their
relationship. I like them. I hope they end up living happily ever
after.
It's easy to mock a show like the
Bachelor or the Bachelorette. It's easy to point out the insanity of
trying to find your “soul mate” on a nationally televised game
show. It's easy to be cynical, but I'm not convinced that the
cynicism is warranted. At least not all of it.
At its core, the show provides a proxy
for both our deepest desire and our deepest fear. We want to be
loved, but we're afraid that we'll end up alone. It's the same core
that spurs the success of paint-by-numbers romantic comedies. We want
to hear the story again because we want the story to be real. We want
the story to part of us. A show like this serves a purpose.
I've always been a hopeless romantic. I
love the Bachelorette for the same reason that I love When Harry Met
Sally or Definitely, Maybe. They're aspirational how-to guides about finding profound happiness. They're fairy tales.
We need fairy tales. We need escape and
we need dreams. Sometimes they even come true.
But we need other stories too or else we
run the risk of fairy tales dominating our reality to the extent that
we think of them as the rule and not the exception. We need stories
that tell us that happily ever after is just the beginning. We need
stories that show us that being single isn't synonymous with failure. We need
stories that remind us that we don't have to be rich or successful
to be valuable.
Churches need to learn how to tell
these stories. Please note that I did not say anecdotes or
illustrations. These are not points we need to prop up, but stories
we need to embody. In order to lead healthy, fulfilling lives we need
big, beautiful dreams, but we also need a deeply realized and
beautiful reality.
I try my best to be honest here. I've
told some of my friends that writing this blog is my form of therapy
and this post is no less than that. I love the fairytale, but my
pursuit of that fairytale has often left me feeling bitter and
lonely.
There are two possible reasons for
this. First, to quote from the movie High Fidelity, “Only people of
a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of
their lives at the age of 26.” I am certainly of that disposition.
Secondly, and I think more profoundly,
I have no idea what it looks like to be healthy, happy and single.
It's not a story I'm familiar with, yet when I look at the Bible or
Christian history it's quite apparent that this is a perfectly viable
option.
I don't have a pithy point to wrap all
this up. I love the stories we tell ourselves in popular culture,
it's why I like writing about it, but at the same time I think we've
gone too far. We know how to chase the dream, but it's become
increasingly harder to live the reality. Here's to figuring it out.
Peace,
Ben
You can follow me on Twitter
@BenHoward87 or leave a comment if you'd like to contact me.
I'm pretty sure Paul may have been the only one. Maybe that's why I'm not Paul's biggest fan (gasp! what? sacrilege!).
ReplyDeleteThe only happy single person? I think there have been others. And if you want sacrilege regarding Paul, oh, just wait for tomorrow.
ReplyDelete