An Open Letter to the Cast & Crew of Pilgrim

Dear Cast & Crew of Pilgrim,

I attended the Friday evening showing of Pilgrim this weekend. I’m new to the area so I’ve never seen a Covenant Life production of this nature before, though I have heard from many about the dazzling successes of past years. I also heard from several friends among the cast throughout the rehearsal process, so I understand that the show I saw tonight came together only by the grace of God and the hard work of many, many people.

Regrettably, I was unable to attend either of the shows on opening weekend. As a result, my already-high expectations were boosted even higher by the rave reviews I heard from those who saw it first. I had purchased my ticket well in advance, and my personal anticipation had been long in building. I entered that auditorium expecting to see an incredible and entertaining musical put on by a cast of vivacious and talented young people. Being well familiar with John Bunyan’s timeless classic, I also expected to find some literary enjoyment in seeing a wonderful story depicted in a fresh and creative medium. All of these expectations were met, exceeded, and blown out of the proverbial water.

What I did not expect was that seeing Pilgrim would cause me to love Jesus more. But that is just what it did, and I am so grateful for that. It might be easy to attribute this effect solely to the power of the story and the genius of John Bunyan in his creation of it. But even if that were only the case, that would still be a strong credit to you all for preserving the heart and soul of his story.

But it was more than that. This musical adaptation of Pilgrim’s Progress did not simply succeed in communicating the heart of John Bunyan’s story; in my opinion you all have actually surpassed Bunyan and were able to communicate through various methods more of the Gospel, more of the Christian life, and more of the love of Jesus Christ, the King.

See, it’s one thing to read about Christian’s encounter with Christ on the cross. It is another thing entirely to see Christian fall to his knees in the shadow of the cross, see the King quietly lift the burden from his back and cast it down, and all the while to hear the simple words of the Gospel Song sung over top of it all. This was only the first scene that brought tears to my eyes. And may I take a moment to point out that this may be due not only to the picture of the Gospel but also this in tandem with the stunning power of Brett Jansen’s voice.

However, as powerful as that particular scene was, I must continue by saying that that is not the picture that will stick with me most. That claim must go to the Hands of the King. Chris Maresco did a superb job of portraying the character of the King. He was gentle and forceful. He was ever-present but never distracting. He was obvious enough that the audience always knew he was there, but he was subtle enough that the audience, like Christian, could easily forget. But I mentioned the Hands for a reason. The King was not only present every step of the way, but he constantly had his Hands on the shoulders of his pilgrims, of course particularly on Christian. In Christian’s worst moments of struggle or trial, the King was there holding him, with his hands upon him. It painted for me a beautiful image of being held in the hands of Christ. There’s something powerful about the human touch, and you utilized it perfectly. When I remember Christian locked in the dungeon of despair crying out to the King, “This isn’t what I bargained for!” I don’t just hear the King’s response. No, first I see the King with his hands upon Christian’s shoulders, holding him, caring for him. Only then does he reply gently, “We didn’t bargain.”

The writing of the script was excellent, funny in all the right places, with believable and honest dialogue throughout. The music was brilliant, not only in its composition but also in its delivery. Even the choreography was fantastic, and I know nothing about choreography. The stage crew, the lighting crew, the sound crew, and the musicians all fulfilled their roles with such skill and effectiveness that while it was obvious the show could not have happened without them, they were on the other hand not obvious at all because nothing went wrong to draw attention to them.

Still, it’s the images that will stick with me. Of the King reaching out to calm Evangelist’s anger without a word. Of Faithful being received into the Celestial City. Of Hopeful giving thanks to God in the midst of despair. These pictures will affect my own journey along the path, and I trust they will aid me in keeping to it.

I’ve gone on long enough and probably too long, but the point of all of this is that I want to say thank you for everything that each of you did in putting this production together. It has awakened my mind to new pictures of Christ that I pray will never leave me, and in the first several hours afterward it has already had a profound impact on my heart and my life. Thank you.

/Brian Whalen

The World I Know

I recognized myself the other day: the Brian I know, I mean. It was a good day.

In a very short period of time, I have made the transition from having nothing to do, to having something to do every night and day of the week. I have not spent more than a few hours at the house since last Thursday evening and I have plans for every remaining evening this week as well. I suppose the best answer is that your prayers have been effective, because otherwise I’m not at all sure how it happened.

I knew things had changed when someone made the comment to me the other day: “You know everybody!” Talk about a wake-up call. I’m still not sure I believe that strong of a claim, but the fact is that I have somehow integrated myself into several different social circles and this is keeping me busy.

I had a similar wake-up call just this very afternoon when Rhoda the Receptionist knew I had gone to Chipotle for lunch because I walked back into the office singing. I’m not kidding; I am this predictable! Most people in the office by now know that though I don’t eat much, I am passionate about the foods that I do love… like cake.

Actually, they know I get passionate about anything I love, like good music, and good books. My The Little Prince conversion count is up to 6, which might seem low for two months, but I’m just getting started.

My friend Nolan and I went to get Thai food tonight before care group. I love Thai food, but this was far spicier than any Thai food I have ever had. And since I was introducing him to the wonders of Thai food, he got what I got. I’ve never tasted anything so fiery. We were both literally in tears over dinner. I imagine we looked quite a funny sight.

John David’s band Blackbird Lewis was one of the best shows I have ever attended, and I’ve been to a lot of shows. This weekend Headless Mantis and John Beavers’s band Mary and the Poor were also quite good. All of these took place at a nice little venue in northern Virginia called Jammin’ Java. I’m a fan. A few weeks ago I went to two Reilly concerts in one weekend which were both fantastic. It was nice also to see the band members again and get a chance to chat with some of them.

I discovered through Pandora a singer/songwriter named Peter Bradley Adams. If I haven’t told you about him yet, check out his albums Leavetaking and Gather Up. He’s made his way almost instantly into my all-time favorite artists.

Just over two weeks before I head home to Atlanta for a visit. Justin’s coming with me. It’s going to be epic.

The internship is still going exceedingly well. I’m learning more all the time. Someday soon I should probably start putting together the school portfolio that will be due in May.

The short of it is that life’s getting busier and life’s getting better. I figured I was far overdue for an update. Seriously can’t wait to see you all back home in a couple weeks.

Week Seven

Well, time has caught up with itself after dragging its feet for my first several weeks here and is now making up for itself on double-time. At last, days are beginning to blur into weeks. It's as much a shock to me as it may be to you, considering my track record so far, but tonight is the first time I've really been in the house since last Thursday night. On Friday night and Saturday night of this past weekend I finally found the people here who actually hang out. I was beginning to wonder whether they were real. I met a ton of people, had a decent time.

Now, you would think such excitement would be more than enough for one weekend, considering that my social muscle has perhaps atrophied a bit. But it was a three-day weekend, so naturally I had to go to Philadelphia. Drove up after church on Sunday and didn't return until the early hours of the morning Monday night. Naturally, Philadelphia was fantastic. So far I've been there every other weekend since the move and I have loved it every time.

I've started collecting dinner invites from families at the office. I suppose it was only a matter of time, and I can't say I'm complaining. If I'm not careful I might even end up being... busy... again. Now that would be weird.

This weekend I'm going to two concerts, about which I am terribly excited. Friday night will feature Reilly at Ebenezer's Coffee House and then Sunday afternoon is Blackbird Lewis, which is a couple of college guys here at Covenant Life (John David Maresco, Danny Mays, others), playing at Jammin' Java. I'm rather a fan of both bands, so there's surely some goodness in store for this weekend.

Further plans for the next few months are in the works; I'll fill you in on the details when confirmed. Suffice to say, I'm excited.

Pictures of Perfection

For my non-facebooked readers, here are some more pictures from the weekend, this time from Scott S's camera. I've included a few short captions to give an idea of what we did over the weekend. Did I mention it was wonderful?

This was inside of the Smithsonian Museum of American History on Saturday. We got through a few of the exhibits before needing to get outside to enjoy the beautiful weather.

On Sunday afternoon we went to Annapolis after church. We sat for awhile on the dock of the harbor, enjoying a second day of beautiful weather.

We spent a good deal of time in various Starbucks around the state, usually for coffee and the bathroom more than hanging out. This was also in Annapolis. I don't know what pictures Christina and I are looking at.

This was at the foot of the Washington Monument and in front of the White House, but you can't see either. So it's just us.

We walked pretty much the entire length of the National Mall and back on Saturday. It was warm and sunny for the afternoon, but got cold on the walk back, especially for those of us who decided not to bring a jacket. This is on the way back from the Lincoln Memorial alongside the reflecting pool.

We had quite a bit of fun taking pictures on these short stone... pillar... things. I love how all the people in the background are watching.

This may not look like much, but we squished four people on top of a small square stone pillar in front of the reflecting pool. And then of course took pictures.

Seriously, don't they look so good? It's kind of sick.

We got pretty lucky with group photos. Everyone we asked did a really good job on the first try. This one I will frame.

Why I Am The Luckiest

I hereby publicly challenge Mr. Ben Folds for the title of The Luckiest. Because I have the honor of calling these four beautiful and intelligent people my dearest friends, and he does not. And for three wonderful days I had the privilege of their constant company here in Maryland, aka the Wasteland. If I have any Maryland readers (I don't), you will have to pardon the nickname. It is not and is not meant to be endearing. But for a weekend the wasteland flourished.


It was a perfect weekend. With an even balance of sightseeing and simple hanging out, the weekend left absolutely nothing to be desired. It was everything I could have hoped for and more, and I mean that most literally. It was also needed. Five weeks is far too long to go without seeing people who mean as much to me as they do. And that they would sacrifice so much to be here, for my sake, means more than my words can capture. But maybe if I say it enough they'll get a glimpse of just how great this feeling of appreciation is inside of me. I'm telling you, friends just don't come better than these.


I don't have the strength right now to relate a full account of the weekend's activities, but there will be many pictures on Facebook in the near future I am sure. For now I'll provide a few highlights. Most of the pictures in this post come from Scott K's camera. Our one good whole group photo is on Scott S's camera, so I'll have to post that when I get it.

Gatsby & Spontaneity

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

So reads the epitaph on the top slab of the grave of F. Scott Fitzgerald, a quote from his most wonderful and renowned work, The Great Gatsby. Most of the quote, however, presently rests obscured beneath a shard of frosted glass. There's nothing quite like a cemetery draped in a contiguous blanket of ice, each tombstone a pinnacle of stone piercing through the encompassing tundra. Nor is there anything quite like sitting beneath a winter pine, observing in quiet contemplation said gravestone, framed by a sunset pale orange.


I had only just settled into such a picturesque reverie as this, one Saturday evening recently past, when my phone rang. It was Justin in Philadelphia. Fast forward half an hour of conversation and find me on the interstate to Pennsylvania with naught but the camera in my hand and the clothes on my back. People do funny things when their nearest friend lives a measly two and a half hours away. Funny, yes. Spontaneous, yes. But you only live twice, and this life is far more fleeting than the next.

Philadelphia was good to me yet again. I had a wonderful weekend of movies, conversations born from and about movies, friends with which to partake in conversations, good food to eat with friends, and about twenty-four hours in which to do it all. And after the simultaneously most subdued and most exuberant Superbowl party I have ever attended, we smoked a few celebratory cigars and made plans late into the night. I arrived back in Maryland around 3 AM and woke up four hours later to prepare for the day ahead.

Next

So, today was a big day. This morning the announcement was made about New Attitude's new name. Most of the past three and a half weeks of my life have been spent working on Next, and now the rest of the world knows what Next is. Or if you don't, go here: This Is Next.

If you make your way towards the blog section, or actually just the main page presently, you may recognize someone you know. Yes, friends, it's true. This zealously endeavoring boy has a new platform, and I think probably a few more readers over there. But do not worry, I will not abandon you to reading only about my work life on some foreign blog. This blog is still my home. Georgia is still my home.

I've been meaning to take some pictures around the office to run a post about where I work. But I haven't done that yet.

I also meant to write a poetic description of the way I carved out my car from a block of ice the other morning, as a master sculptor unveiling his masterpiece to the world's ignorant eyes, all so that I could drive to work. Yes, I am that dedicated. Actually, if I don't go to work I sincerely have nothing to do all day, so a day without work is a thing to be dreaded.

I'll write more this weekend during all my immense free time. In the mean time, check out Next. That's my job.