What You Want and What You Need – Part 1: Beauty and Majesty

You don’t build it for yourself. You know what people want and you build it for them.

Walt Disney

My family and I have spent the last few days vacationing in the most elaborate and manipulative fantasy on the face of this earth, and I’d be a liar if I said I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed myself. After all, this is the happiest place on earth where everyone has the best day ever if the t-shirts are to be believed. Just don’t look too closely at how many people are wearing shirts that say “#Broke,” or “Most expensive day ever,” or my personal favorite, “Hakuna Nodolla: It means no money for the rest of your stay.”

Truly, Walt Disney was a genius when it comes to giving people exactly what they want… and convincing them that no cost is too high to get it. The evidence is pretty plain if you spend any time at one of Disney’s massive parks or resorts; there are people everywhere, wearing ears and licensed shirts and carrying toys and souvenirs, all while packing into one entertainment venue after another.

Look, if it sounds like I’m being critical, I want to be clear: this is a lot of fun. But it isn’t real. It’s a fantasy, an escape. Yet even this fantasy carries shades of reality. Over my next few posts, I want to share with you some stories of my time at Disney, and the heavenly reality I see lurking behind the fantasy.

* * * * * *

We’re standing in the hot sun on the edge of the sidewalk, pressed shoulder to shoulder with polite strangers who aren’t so polite so as to sacrifice a good viewing spot. The smells of cotton candy and funnel cake and popcorn fill the air. But not sweat; somehow Disney has figured out how to fill the air with such good scents that you can’t smell the people around you. Genius.

I think to myself how weird it is that there’s a sidewalk for a street that is intended primarily to be walked on by people. For now, it’s been cleared for an epic parade. To my right, the gold and pale blue of Cinderella’s castle towers above the crowd. Tens of thousands of people have gathered to watch costumed actors wave at them, and try to catch their attention. To cheer and shout and dance and cry as they watch their favorite animated characters come to life.

As the first floats appear past a gate, above the noise of the crowd, the ever-present speakers pump out a medley of Disney songs intermingled with lyrics specifically written for the Magic Kingdom parade. Lines that talk about fantasy, but also about beauty and majesty. Those two words catch my attention. Those are worship words. Their place in the music of my life is in praise to Jesus. Here, they’re in service to made-up princesses. To an anthropomorphized mouse.

Another thought comes unasked for: Could you get tens of thousands of people to pay in upwards of $100 a person to show up to a worship gathering and be this excited in anticipation of what was to come? I suppose maybe you could if along with it you could offer amazing Bible-themed rides and unique (and overpriced) food themed after Bible characters. But could you get them to do it every day?

This launches a new image in my head, a similar scene, but now it isn’t a float with costumed characters from animated movies. It’s a king, riding a white horse, and his entourage is made up of angels and heroes of faith. The streets are lined with onlookers, some cheering, some jeering, all bowing, whether out of joy or fear.

The reality is, this parade is already happening. It has been for two thousand years. It began the day Jesus cried out, “It is finished.” It burst forth from the grave three days later. Unseen, it has marched through time and all across the globe. The beauty and majesty of Jesus may be hidden, but every time you lift your voice in praise you bear witness to it.

Someday, it will no longer be hidden. The gate will open, the King will ride forth, and all creation will see him. Not tens of thousands.

Billions.

He will ride to a glittering city far more glorious than Cinderella’s castle. And unlike this parade at the Magic Kingdom, where the floats and characters pass and the music fades and everyone just sort of picks up and goes about their business, when the King parades into the New Jerusalem, it’s just the beginning. And the “happiest place on earth” has nothing on the New Earth.

Disney’s parade is done for the day. Tomorrow there will be another. And the next day. And the next. Probably until the very last day, knowing Disney. But then we’ll see a real show.