In
medieval times, the Church's theologians argued about the nature of the
catholic mass. Was it a symbolic act or a miracle, a magical act? Did
the wafer and the wine truly became the flesh and blood of Christ? It
is a true miracle, they claimed. Even though the wine tastes like wine,
looks like wine, and smells like wine, it has now become blood.
How? Well, the medieval philosophers made a distinction between primary
and secondary characteristics. The primary characteristic is the
essence of something, while the secondary characteristics are those
phenomenal manifestations that we use to recognize something but it is
not part of its essence. For example, the soul of a person would be
their essence, unchanged and the true meassure of who they are.
Everything else would be a secondary characteristic: external
appearance, color of the skin, or even the particular life story. In
the case of the wine, the transformation into "the blood of Christ,"
according to the Catholic theologian allows it to retain all the
secondary characteristics it used to: the signal to the senses remained
unchanged, but the substance had been transformed. It is, in the eyes
of these theologians, the type of miracle that affects the essence, not
the outward and secondary characteristics. Similarly, they would argue,
prayer and the sacraments affect the soul, but not the body of the
supplicant. This effect of changing the essence of something was called
"transubstantiation."
Now,
look at the traditions that seek to preserve the past. Take a dance,
any dance, performed thousands of years ago perhaps to prepare for the
hunt. It was a preparation for the one act that could mean survival or
death for the tribe. Now, you go to park in your vehicle, you see
people dress in a way that is not relevant any longer.
They
dance. They follow the same external steps. They play, perhaps, to the
similar tunes. But what was a dance of survival is now entertainment.
What was sacred in a raw sense is now to educate and entertain. The
audience, and the performers, do not have now the same experience that
the ancient artists had. They've preserved the external manifestations
but not the essence.
The
Telling is an experiment in cultural transubstantiation. It seeks to
bring in the essence of something live and potent from a different time
and make it do what it did, make it come to life in a context that
delivers the essence. It does not seek to retain the externals, but
delivers the true substance and the audience knows that something
happened that is not part of the known.