Idols and Yellow Brick Roads
There is an unforgettable moment of grief in the Wizard of Oz, when the curtain is pulled back, and Dorothy and her friends bear witness to the fact that the Wizard of Oz is not great and powerful, but a pathetic old man turning knobs and pulling levers and barking through a microphone to amplify his voice. Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion all realize their hopes would not be realized through the power of the wizard.
This is what it feels like to be let down by a community. It’s a particularly stinging disappointment because most of us approach community with hope. We hope this is a place where we belong. An environment where we’re respected and given the opportunity to participate in a greater shared purpose. We also hope to enjoy the long-term benefits of community, including protection, camaraderie, and legacy. We hoped we’d find what we were looking for, only to be disappointed.
This kind of grief is the one felt by people of faith when they see pastors dedicating golden statues to the president of the United States. The front end of my reaction is anger, but grief is always lingering behind the bitterness. It’s a grief because many of us have known for a long time that religion is behind the curtain, turning knobs and convincing billions throughout the ages that it’s great and powerful. There’s no restorative power behind the curtain and no substance behind the show. That’s not the truth we hoped for. And yet, we still have a responsibility to see it and declare what’s true. James Baldwin once said that the responsibility of the artists is, “tell as much of the truth as one can bear…and then a little more.” It’s no easy task to be assigned the task of telling truth. There will always be voices barking back at us, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!” Or, in 2026, we hear,“It’s not an idol!”
But….
It also means the story is not over. The search continues, and the journey must go on. Not only must we tell the truth, but we must be the ones to help tell a better story. Recently, during the Easter season, I was reflecting on the part of the story where the Bible says the temple curtain was torn; perhaps a divine indication revealing that God would not be confined behind the veil of religion. That reality did not point to a dead hope; it unveiled a deep truth. In the words of Jewish philosopher Abraham Joshua Heschel, “Faith is not the clinging to a shrine but endless, tameless pilgrimage of hearts.”** A truth pointing us to keep exploring and discovering the joy that hope is not exclusive to one culture or ideology.
Fear doesn’t do well in the light. Light nourishes courage. And courage can give us the strength to confess we don’t have all the answers and that we’ll never find them all in this life. It’s ok to be disappointed, but take heart and look around to your companions on this yellow brick road of life; you’re not alone. Keep moving forward and be a part of a better story.
Notes:
*Incredibly grateful to visual artist David Hayward for graciously granting me permission to use one of his recent cartoons in this post. If you haven’t already, please check out his content. I’m the proud owner of a coffee mug from his store. Trust me, his mugs make coffee taste better. Treat yourself and pick one up!
**I’m currently reading “Reality in Ruins: How Conspiracy Theory Became an American Evangelical Crisis” . A book that I can only describe as cathartic. This isn’t the book for you if you’re seeking intellectual ammunition against those caught up in Alt-Right circles. This is a book to help clarify what it means to move the story of faith and community beyond the anger and grief that many of us are experiencing. A number of my ideas in this post have come from reading this book.