What, this old thing?

One night last week, I sat in the beautiful Paramount Theater, waiting for a movie to begin. It wasn't the premiere of some new Hollywood blockbuster; it was a showing of the 1940 comedy The Philadephia Story. I've seen the movie a few times, but it's always great to see classic films in a classic theater, on a giant screen, the way they were meant to be seen. I was pleasantly surprised that several hundred people were in the audience, eating popcorn, chatting, waiting. I overheard a conversation behind me: A man said, "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" A woman replied, "I'm 90 years old."
"Wow," said the man, "did you see The Philadelphia Story when it first came out?" She said yes.
The lights dimmed, we saw a couple of previews for upcoming shows and then the familiar Looney Tunes/Merrie Melody music began. A Pepe LePew cartoon!
As the MGM lion roared, The Philadelphia Story began, in glorious black and white. It stars Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart; they don't make 'em like that anymore. I was struck repeatedly by how much the audience was enjoying the movie. The roars of the lion were overshadowed by huge roars of laughter which burst out so many times that some of the film's funniest lines were completely lost. And the laughs sounded so comfortable, so free. It was not the sort of laughs you hear at the new breed of comedies, where the laughter is mixed with uneasy cringes over what shocking image or taboo event has been exploited. These were joyful laughs, totally free of guilt.
It was the best time I've had at a movie in a long time. And yet, I know many people who say, "I don't watch those old black and white movies." I can sort of understand why a teenager might say that. But for an adult to believe that any movie without Technicolor has nothing to say is simply wrongheaded.
We live in a culture which frequently contends that anything older than yesterday is worthless. I feel sorry for anyone who skips the music of the Beatles or Bob Wills or Benny Goodman or the Boswell Sisters because it's not current. I want everyone to see the movies of Preston Sturges and Jean Arthur and Buster Keaton. There are treasures buried, none too deeply, for those who care to scratch the surface a bit.
It's much the same at church. There's always an "emergent" movement or a new trend in "praise music" that causes us to toss out beautiful hymns, timeless traditions and meaningful messages. Lest I sound like an old fogey, let me assure you that I love new music, new books, new movies. But we don't have to choose between "all-new" and "all vintage" when we can appreciate both.
Good stories are timeless, particularly the "Old, Old Story" mentioned in one hymn. Stories are just like songs, movies, books…and people. There's something to be learned from the newest, and great rewards for those who don't forget the oldest.
There couldn't be a New Testament unless there was an Old one.