Stink and Learn

(For the audio version of this blog, please visit: https://brothersinchristcmf.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/Mass-Blog-forThe-Solemnity-of-Our-Lord-Jesus-Christ-King-of-the-Universet-2025.mp3)

To non-believers, “Jesus Christ King of the Universe” sounds like a Vaudeville act. Vaudeville was the preeminent performance art in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries. It was where jugglers joined actors, comedians, clowns, dancers, acrobats, speed-typists, and mentalists to capture the love of an audience. Given Vaudeville’s reliance on such wild diversity, it’s not surprising most of those folks survived in the business. But a few stunk by any standard. Then disappeared.

Two-thousand years ago, non-believers in positions of power equated Jesus’ acts with that standard of showbiz. He may even have entertained them. But others who came to believe he represented something more were amazed, touched and changed.

Then there were the believers who were scared by what Jesus did and said. Twentieth Century Broadway producers used some of Vaudeville’s forms in a show called Godspell to skewer those fearful but powerful forces as depicted in Matthew’s gospel. Because those who considered themselves powerful couldn’t compete with Christ’s ability to tell the truth in varied and powerful ways, they made a show of crucifying him under a sign mockingly billing him as the little people’s “King.” 

The gospel writers showed that non-believers couldn’t resist getting caught up in that spectacle and becoming part of Pontius Pilate’s display of artificial power. Many took part in the chorus of “Crucify him!” One of the criminals crucified next to Jesus even tried stealing center stage by interjecting, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us.”

But the criminal crucified on Jesus’ other side knew he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near this King. “The good thief” misspent his life trying to succeed by seeking shortcuts, just as some of the bad Vaudevillians of the early 20^th Century did. He didn’t find the truth that would save him until his final act. He put his newly discovered talent on display for Jesus with his last breaths:

“We have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal,” the good thief told the bad one. Then he added a grand finale: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Luke 23:35-43)

Vaudeville may be dead, but many of us Superstar wannabes will ultimately be remembered for the same things this genre’s stars still are: the truths learned on the humblest stages of our lives. These include the kinds of mistakes those performers shared with each other over a pint at a pub.

A new book tells the story of a Cleveland pub frequented by Vaudeville acts working to headline the stages of their dreams in the early 20^th Century. Mr. Moser’s Neighborhood: The Intersection of Cleveland and Vaudeville is about Otto Moser’s, located in the heart of the city’s theater district. On that tavern’s walls, big stars and lesser known performers hung their autographed photographs. What were they saying by doing that while sharing their truths with each other? The same thing the good thief said to Jesus: “Remember me.”

The answer to that prayer requires an examination of conscience formed by a life of making mistakes and learning from them. The book concludes with a quote from George Burns, comic superstar, who (self-deprecatingly) mourned the loss of Vaudeville and what it offered to all artists:

“With the collapse of Vaudeville, new talent has no place to stink.”

While working your way up to the standard of Truth set by Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, take every opportunity to stink and learn on this earthly stage. Your inevitable improvements will get you closer and closer to that Universe where everybody knows your name.

–Tom Andel