Charles Dickens is the dude who made me want to major in English literature. More specifically, the novel “David Copperfield” rocked my world back in high school. As I read through its pages, it became clearer and clearer to me that I was experiencing the craft of a literary genius who was doing things with words, phrases, and images that I didn’t know were possible. Reading Dickens awakened me to the power of literature and the potential of linguistic artistry.
You can imagine my chuckles, then, when I read about the Charles Dickens theme park that is scheduled to open in Chatham, England on April 20th. Called DICKENS WORLD, this theme park will include rides, novelty stores, a “Great Expectations” boat trip, and a “Ye Olde Curiosity” gift shop. The 120 million dollar complex expects to see over 300,000 fun-seeking visitors per year.
Literary purists, of course, are livid. “There is a lot to fear here,” proclaimed a recent New York Times article on DICKENS WORLD. “There is the prospect that characters from Dickens’ novels — Mr. Pecksniff and the Artful Dodger, Mr. Pickwick and Uriah Heep — will wander through Dickens World the way Goofy and Mickey walk the streets of Disneyland.”
On the other side of the argument is Ross Hutchins, manager of DICKENS WORLD. Hutchins believes that Dickens himself would have approved of the endeavor: “If Dickens were alive today, he would probably have built the place himself, ” Hutchins said of the theme park. “In fact, if Dickens were alive today, he would probably have been working for television as a scriptwriter. He was very much a populist.” (Hutchins’ remarks remind me of an old David Letterman multiple choice joke: “If Charles Dickens were alive today would he….a) be writing his memoirs; b) be teaching at a university; or c) be desperately clawing at the inside of his casket?!”)
The whole DICKENS WORLD controversy is yet another manifestation of an all-too-common penchant in the human pilgrimage. The penchant to which I am making reference has to do with the desire to take hold of that which is respected, even revered, for the purpose of reducing it to something manageable and marketable. A good portion of this penchant is grounded in commerce, to be sure. But I believe it to be deeper than that. There seem to be spiritual issues at stake. What does it say about our spiritual condition when we are regularly about the business of reducing everything to its lowest common denominator? And what compels us to want to take something significant (like the legacy of a literary giant) and reduce it to theme park status for the purpose of mass consumption?
Scripture, of course, is replete with the very penchant that I am describing. We don’t have to get very far into the biblical narrative to find ourselves confronted with folks who are eager to cheapen the sacred. Throughout the pages of scripture, we find a birthright surrendered in exchange for a bowl of stew. We find Peter attempting to reduce the Transfiguration to a mountain top tent party. We find the disciples truncating the meaning of God’s kingdom to such an extent that it becomes nothing more than an argument about who gets the best seat in heaven.
There is nothing new, in other words, about our penchant for cheapening the holy.
I wonder, where is it that yours truly is guilty of nurturing this penchant? How often have I reduced the worship of a holy and transcendent God to nothing more than gimmickry for the purpose of increasing the numbers? How often have I cheapened God’s salvation by making it into nothing more than a predictable formula for getting into heaven? How often have I besmirched the covenant of ordained ministry by putting the emphasis upon my vocational preferences instead of submitting to the yoke of obedience? How often have I substituted self-righteousness for cross-carrying?
Anyway, I’ll sign off now. I have to meet Tara at Bill Shakespeare’s Bar and Grille!