(SPOILER ALERT: If you are a fan of “Downton Abbey” but haven’t yet watched the recent season finale, stop reading right NOW, or I will surely ruin your day. Possibly even your whole weekend. I’m not kidding. ALSO NOTE: I am not endorsing the beliefs or behavior of any “Downton Abbey” characters, nor the liberal sociopolitical agendas sometimes subtly promoted on the show. I do, however, freely confess I enjoy the beautiful sets and excellent writing, and, of course, the perfectly written and delivered lines of the feisty Dowager Countess.)
I’m not much of a letter-writing fussbudget, but here’s one I’ve been drafting in my head to Julian Fellowes, “Downton Abbey’s” writer:
“Dear Mr. Fellowes,
Would you please stop killing off main characters willy-nilly? Especially the nice ones. Most of you Brits may suffer from seasonal affective disorder, but that is not a good excuse. Take a trip, get some sun, and remember what it means to ENTERTAIN people. If we wanted to be depressed, we’d watch the news.”
I don’t think I’ll actually send the letter, but I am distressed at the turn my favorite TV show has taken.
And I’m embarrassed to admit that I had to keep reminding myself, “These people are not real,” when I felt sad for days after watching the season finale of what has been a year of tumult and tragedy on “Downton Abbey.”
For those of you who may have been trapped in a mineshaft for the past three years, “Downton Abbey” is an award-winning, hugely popular British show broadcast in the U.S. as part of PBS’s “Masterpiece” series.
The program follows the lives of fictitious aristocrats and servants on a magnificent country estate in early 20th-century England.
Midway through this season, one of the main characters, Lady Sybil, died giving birth to the child she had with her oh-so-working-class, Irish hubby.
Our weary hearts needed time to adequately grieve that loss. After all, we’d already been through so much during the first two seasons—the sinking of the Titanic, miscarriage, World War I, financial disaster, unjust imprisonment, a cancer scare, and the endless devilish schemes of some servants who make CIA dark-op agents look like Brownie Scouts in comparison.
After poor Sybil bit the dust, we all tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but BAM!, that last episode knocked the breath right out of us again.
I know the actor playing Downton’s good-guy heir, Matthew, wanted to leave the show to head for the brighter lights of Hollywood, but was it really necessary to have him careen off the road while motoring home to tell the family the happy news of the birth of his and Lady Mary’s son?
He looked quite dead when the curtain dropped on season three. Have mercy.
When next season rolls around, everyone at Downton will no doubt again be sporting black armbands and mourning attire. Argggh.
What I wanted was to be transported, an hour at a time, to a place of beauty, nobility, grace, and happiness, where people are somehow safe from the common, excruciating pains of life.
What I got was a reminder that no such place exists…for now.
The good news is that I cannot be reminded of that hard reality without also remembering God’s promise that for those who believe in His Son, Jesus, such a place is indeed coming.
God says He will ultimately remake this fallen world into something wondrously beyond our imaginations. The glories of “Downton Abbey” multiplied by a zillion, minus all the pain and sin.
That’s the season I’m really waiting for.
“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” – 1 Corinthians 2:9