More Than a Movie, More Than a Song

Two Unlikely Reminders That We’re Not So Divided After All

About once a year, we go to the Artcraft Theatre in Franklin, Indiana. It’s an old-school movie theater that has been remodeled and now shows classic films year-round. For a kid from the 1970s and ’80s, the experience is overwhelmingly nostalgic—popcorn, candy, old folding seats, ushers, an emcee introducing the movie, and a recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance before the film.

Watching A Christmas Story on television each year during its marathon run around Christmas is one thing. But watching it with several hundred other people was something else entirely. I tried to take it all in—not just the movie, but the experience. There was a shared sense of excitement during the opening credits. The audience laughed together at every punchline. And, quite remarkably, an ovation erupted as the movie concluded. If that weren’t enough, everyone stood outside afterward, smiling, laughing, and talking about the film.

I thought about how rare these kinds of shared, communal events are these days. There was something quaint and special about that moment. In all the ways I’ve believed that we are culturally losing our humanity to technological isolation and political division, humanity triumphed that day.

Well, and one other day.

We were at one of Will’s seventh-grade home basketball games. The bleachers were packed with adults and kids, all anticipating the start of the game. As the clock ticked down to zero, everyone automatically stood for the national anthem. A hush fell over the gym. And it remained quiet. For almost a full minute. Everyone looked toward the scorer’s table and realized there was an issue playing the song. As a side note, in previous weeks, they had attempted to play The Star-Spangled Banner from YouTube, only for it to start with a 15-second ad. But on this particular night, the person who had the song queued up on his phone had evidently left the gym, and there was no music to be played.

That’s when everyone started singing a cappella together.

Deep Calls to Deep by Brandon Andress

Yeah, it was weird. It’s not my favorite thing to do. But again, humanity triumphed. Rather than listlessly and robotically going through the motions while playing another YouTube video, every voice joined together in unison. The moment reminded me—and likely others—how we can come together for something beautiful despite our differences. Rather than looking at the flag, I surveyed the faces around me and felt convinced that in a world that often seems divided and disconnected, there are still moments when we break the programming and remember how to be a community. For a brief moment, we were no longer strangers but people sharing in something meaningful together.

My hope in the coming days, weeks, and years is that we can recover what we have collectively lost—our ability to come together as fellow travelers with a common purpose, while respecting one another as human beings.

Question

When was the last time I truly felt connected to the people around me? What can I do to create or embrace more of these moments in my daily life?

Peace,

Brandon

---