Wednesday, December 14, 2011
An Open Letter To Brooklyn Tabernacle
But as I walked out of your doors, not filled with holiday cheer but filled with the super-pissed feeling of angst, I had one question for you: How do you do a Christmas show without your choir?
It's the one thing you're known for. The ONE thing. And yet, on the celebration of Jesus' birth, and your biggest outreach of the year, you don't bring your A Game? Rather, you bring a play that I could have written ten years ago? Furthermore, the songs you did sing, were prerecorded? Why was there never a single live instrument played over the course of the FAR TOO LONG night? I guess we just decided to skip over that whole bit in Psalms where they PLAYED INSTRUMENTS. And while I do believe that God is a fan of the synthesizer (as I also believe He is a fan of both the Muppets and Crystal Pepsi), I also believe that God is none-too-thrilled with the fact that you just used the track off the Natalie Grant album, rather than playing the music yourself with the musicians we all know you have.
So, while your building is beautiful and there was so much hope riding on you being the Christmas show of all Christmas shows, I left there thinking: How fast can you get me to Radio City to see an actual Christmas show that's done right? That's the wrong idea Brooklyn Tab. That's not what people should be thinking as they leave. You're supposed to be better than this. Actually, you're supposed to be the best at this. And you failed. Miserably. And I'm pissed. Super pissed. And full of questions. Such as this: Why is there more joy on stage at Sister Act than was on stage at your Christmas show? Shouldn't you be the epicenter of joy? Why did the manger scene at Radio City take my breath away but your little manger scene IN AN ACTUAL CHURCH looked like something I did in children's church? Your chairs may be the most comfortable theater chairs I've ever sat in, but I'm left wanting. Wanting something more. Wanting something polished. Wanting what you're known for. So next year, (not that I will be attending but still), bring your A Game. Bring out that choir and sing Mary Did You Know. And for the love of the God that you are supposed to be so joyful about, please play the instruments that are sitting next to the stage collecting Christmas dust.