THIS IS ME: WHEN THE SIDESHOW BECOMES THE SANCTUARY
“No one ever made a difference by being like everyone else.”
A bearded lady. A man seven feet tall. A boy with a dog’s face. Brothers on a trapeze, their skin the wrong color for the front row. The Greatest Showman gathers the people the nineteenth century hid in back rooms and puts them under lights, and the film’s best moment belongs to them: turned away from a society party, they sing anyway. This Is Me is a hymn, whether the studio meant it as one or not. It is the sound of people deciding they will no longer apologize for existing. We will sing it with them. We will also tell the truth the film softens: the real Barnum profited from the people he displayed, and even the movie’s Barnum abandons his troupe the moment respectability comes calling. So the question for the morning is an old theological question. Who is the tent for? And who do we welcome only as long as they make us money, or make us look good?
Join us live in the sanctuary or Live Stream on our YouTube Channel.
