There’s something captivating about a good performance. The lights dim, the music swells, and suddenly we’re transported into someone else’s story. For nearly 50 years, audiences have experienced the dazzling world of “Chicago: The Musical,” currently performed by our own McPherson Community Theatre. This Tony Award-winning show continues to pack theaters because it brilliantly reveals something true about all of us—our tendency to manage how others see us rather than examining who we really are.
I’ve been thrilled to prepare and play Billy Flynn alongside an incredibly talented cast, director, and crew. Working with this amazing McPherson theater community has been an honor—their dedication and skill bring this show to life in spectacular fashion. Part of the genius of the show is how it holds up a mirror to our common human experience. We all edit social media posts to highlight our best moments. We rehearse difficult conversations. We put on brave faces when struggling inside. The musical doesn’t judge this—it simply shows us ourselves with wit, music, and choreography.
This universal human tension between performance and authentic change connects Chicago with today’s scripture from Jeremiah 18. The musical’s brilliance lies in how honestly it portrays our instinct for self-preservation and image management. Meanwhile, Jeremiah’s image of a potter working with clay invites us to consider what deeper transformation might look like—not as condemnation of our performances, but as an invitation to something more.
Today we launch our new worship series, “The Gospel on Stage and Screen,” exploring how God’s message appears in entertainment. Over the coming weeks, we’ll connect ancient texts with McPherson Community Theatre’s Chicago and the film How to Train Your Dragon. Whether you enjoy movies, theater, or good stories, I hope this series will offer fresh insights about staying strong, speaking truth, finding hope, and changing for the better.
Chicago makes us laugh and tap our feet while showing us ourselves with stunning clarity. Today, I’ll connect four musical numbers—“Cell Block Tango,” “When You’re Good to Mama,” “Roxie,” and “Razzle Dazzle”—with insights from Jeremiah 18. Next week, we’ll explore “All that Jazz,” “Funny Honey,” “We Both Reached for the Gun,” and “Mr. Cellophane” alongside scripture to see how truth survives attempts to silence it. If you haven’t gotten tickets yet, you should—this production is excellent! But now, let’s discover how Jeremiah’s ancient potter metaphor offers profound possibilities beyond performance: the chance for genuine transformation when we yield to God’s reshaping hands.
Our journey begins with one of musical theater’s most iconic numbers. In “Cell Block Tango,” six women take the stage, each telling her story with the unforgettable refrain “He had it coming.” The choreography of sharp, defensive movements mirrors emotional walls, each woman isolated in her own spotlight yet united in their shared experience. Part of what makes this number so powerful is how it captures something we all do: explain our actions by pointing to what others did first. These women who’ve done the unthinkable become uncomfortably relatable—they’re mirrors of our own tendency to justify ourselves.
This connects to Jeremiah 18:11 where God calls:
“Turn from your evil ways; reform your ways and your actions.”
Like these characters, we often focus on others’ faults rather than our own growth. God invites us toward authentic transformation—a complete turning that goes beyond explanations to real change.
Jesus demonstrated this in Luke 19 when he met Zacchaeus, a tax collector everyone despised. Zacchaeus didn’t just explain why the system made him corrupt—he transformed his entire life, giving half his possessions to the poor and repaying those he’d cheated four times over. Real change means moving beyond explanations to new actions. The women of “Cell Block Tango” show us our starting point; Jesus shows us where we can go from there.
We all know this pattern. When conflicts arise at work, we point to unreasonable bosses. When marriages struggle, we start to list our spouse’s faults. When children act out, we blame their friends. Chicago captures this human reality—holding up a mirror with humor and honesty. And that recognition is the first step toward growth.
As the scene shifts, we meet another of Chicago’s memorable characters. Matron “Mama” Morton commands the stage in “When You’re Good to Mama,” explaining with knowing winks and comfortable swagger how her world works: “When you’re good to Mama, Mama’s good to you.” This number is how it reveals systems we all recognize—places where relationships become transactions and favors are currency.
This contrasts with Jeremiah 18:6:
“House of Israel, can’t I deal with you like this potter, declares the Lord? Like clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in mine, house of Israel!”
While Mama’s system is one we all know and navigate, God offers something different. The potter doesn’t make deals with clay; the potter lovingly shapes it. Chicago shows us the world as it often is; Jeremiah shows us what else is possible.
Jesus taught this alternative in Matthew 5, calling us to love even enemies—not for what we get back, but because God’s love transforms us to love freely. We all live in Mama’s world of transactions, but Jesus invites us to imagine relationships built on grace. Chicago helps us recognize the system; the gospel offers us another way.
Think about how naturally we fall into Mama’s patterns. We volunteer expecting recognition. We give gifts anticipating equal returns. We show kindness to those who can reciprocate. Chicago doesn’t condemn this—it simply shows us what we already know: this is how the world works. But what if there’s another possibility?
The story continues with another of the show’s entertaining numbers. Roxie Hart takes center stage in “Roxie,” transforming herself into a star before our eyes. She sings: “They’re gonna recognize my eyes, my hair, my teeth…” It’s a show-stopping number that captures our social media age before social media existed—the desire to be seen, admired, known for our image rather than our substance. Roxie isn’t a villain; she’s us, scrolling through filters to find the perfect selfie.
This contrasts with Jeremiah 18:4:
“But the piece he was making was flawed while still in his hands, so the potter started on another, as seemed best to him.”
While Roxie’s reinvention stays surface-level, God offers deeper transformation. Chicago shows us our instinct for image management; Jeremiah suggests something more profound is possible.
Jesus addressed this in Matthew 23 when he challenged religious leaders focused on appearances. In John 4, when Jesus met the woman at the well, he didn’t help her manage her reputation—he offered living water for inner transformation. Roxie’s dream of fame resonates because we all want to be seen and valued. The gospel says we already are, which frees us for authentic change.
Later comes the revealing “Razzle Dazzle.” Billy Flynn shares his courtroom philosophy: “Give ‘em the old razzle dazzle… How can they see with sequins in their eyes?” The lyrics are devastatingly honest: “Razzle dazzle ‘em and they’ll make you a star.” For Billy, truth matters less than presentation, substance less than style. It’s a number that exposes a strategy we all recognize: when in trouble, distract and deflect. Flynn isn’t a villain; he’s surviving the best way he knows how.
This contrasts with God’s invitation in Jeremiah 18:7-8:
“At any time I may announce that I will dig up, pull down, and destroy a nation or kingdom; but if that nation I warned turns from its evil, then I’ll relent and not carry out the harm I intended for it.”
Flynn masters the art of distraction, while God opens a door to genuine change.
To understand why these contrasts matter, let’s explore Jeremiah’s context. He lived around 600 BCE during national crisis—corruption, false worship, and threats of invasion. God sent him to a potter’s workshop, where transformation happened through patient, skillful hands. This wasn’t theater but reality—clay yielding to become something useful and beautiful.
The passage teaches us that God works with us, not against us. Unlike manipulative relationships, God’s reshaping responds to our choices. Transformation requires vulnerability—clay must yield to the potter’s hands. And God desires genuine relationship, not performance.
John Wesley, Methodism’s founder, called this “prevenient grace”—God already working in our lives like the potter preparing clay. Chicago can help show us where we are; grace shows us where we can go. Wesley taught that transformation happens gradually through our whole lives. While the characters in the show find quick fixes, real change takes time and trust.
These insights matter for our daily lives. In personal struggles, we all manage appearances. We seek to create perfect social media profiles, announce big life changes that never materialize, collect inspirational quotes we don’t live by. Jeremiah’s potter invites us to try something different—patient, genuine transformation from within.
In families, we sometimes keep score like Mama’s prison. Parents use guilt, couples withhold affection, siblings compete for favor. What if we tried grace instead? Chicago shows us these patterns clearly; the gospel offers an alternative.
In communities, we see “razzle dazzle” everywhere—in politics, business, even churches. Chicago helps us recognize these patterns. Once we see them, we can choose differently.
The good news is that God offers transformation to us right where we are. Chicago finds us seeking approval through our best performances. Jesus shows us the way forward. He doesn’t polish our performances, but promises new creation from within. So how do we cooperate with this transforming work? I want to share with you a few practices that you could experiment with this week.
First, name one area needing real change in your life. Where do you manage appearances rather than address problems? You might try to identify something specific and spend a few minutes each day asking God for help in this area. Make it real, not just another performance.
Second, practice authenticity in one relationship. Share a struggle, ask for help, be known rather than just impressive. Let someone see you without your costume and choreography.
Third, when you spot “razzle dazzle” in your community, respond with gentle honesty. Ask real questions, support substance over style, redirect gossip toward understanding.These steps can help us move from the spotlight’s glare to the potter’s gentle hands, where real transformation happens.
Chicago is brilliant theater because it shows us ourselves with honesty, humor, and heart. Roxie and Velma aren’t bad people—they’re us, doing our best to survive and succeed in a world that often rewards looking good over being real. Billy Flynn’s smooth talking and Mama Morton’s deal-making reflect our own attempts to handle life’s challenges. Jeremiah’s potter offers something more: not just getting by but real transformation, not just putting on a show but genuine change.
I hope you’ll come see Chicago—it’s great entertainment that mixes laughs with surprising depth. And there’s something more—I invite you to say yes to Jesus’ offer: to be known and loved exactly as you are while becoming who God created you to be.
Will you pray with me?
God, put us on your potter’s wheel today. Give us courage to trust your reshaping Spirit, choosing real transformation over fake performance in every part of our lives. Amen.
In crafting today’s sermon, I employed AI assistants like Claude and Apple Intelligence, yet the ultimate responsibility for its content rests with me. These tools offered valuable perspectives, but the most influential sermon preparation hinges on biblical study, theological insight, personal reflection, and divine guidance. I see AI as a supportive aid to enrich the sermon process while ensuring my own voice in proclaiming the Word of God.
Rev. Andrew Conard 