Sermon for the Unitarian Universalist Church of
Winchendon,
Massachusetts
28 January 2007
the Rev. Jennie Ann
Barrington
"First
they came for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up, because I wasn't a Communists.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists,
and I didn't speak up, because I wasn't a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the sick, the so-called incurables,
and I didn't speak up, because I wasn't mentally ill.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up, because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for the Catholics,
and I didn't speak up, because I was a Protestant.
Then they came for me,
Sermon:
There were these two prominent families, see-- back there in Salem, Massachusetts-- back then in the late sixteen hundreds-- The Putnams and the Porters. We now know that our labels "Red State" and "Blue State" are stereotypes-- We know that any geographic area in our nation is so mixed in its population's backgrounds and values that it's actually more "purple" than one-dimensionally "Red" or "Blue." But, even so, back in Salem in the 1690s, the Putnams and the Porters probably would have felt pleased and proud to don the labels "Red Puritan" and "Blue Puritan" respectively-- The Putnams' deeply-held commitment was to the pastoral Salem Village, and its agrarian way of life, and its conservatively Calvinistic minister, Samuel Parris, and to trying to keep everything the same as it had been in the old days-- a quiet country farming life, isolated from new people, new ideas, and new enterprises; a way of life in which everyone knew their place and stayed put in it; a way of life that was, above all else, stable and predictable. Those were the Putnams' values (and I can understand the appeal of that ideal).
The Porters, on the other hand, were committed to, not the pastoral Salem Village, but to Salem Town, with its new industries, its easy access to the peoples and commerce of other countries, and its rapid fluctuations of status and fortunes. And the Porter family profited greatly from all these things-- sometimes just because they were in the right place at the right time-- sometimes just because of random luck. The Porter family's religious and social allegiance was to the church in Salem Town, not the one in Salem Village. The Porters became more prosperous, powerful, and satisfied with life. Simultaneously, the Putnams became less prosperous-- With each generation, the family land was divided up into smaller and smaller parcels for more and more of the descendants, and farming was less and less cost-effective. And the Putnam family patriarch re-married and had a child much younger than the original Putnam siblings. That patriarch left most of his fortune to his second wife and their child, Joseph. Those original siblings felt angry and bitter. Yet they did not resolve their dispute directly with their step-mother and step-brother. If they had been able to do so, the Salem Witch Trials may never have caught fire. But it can be very hard for a person to bring their concerns directly to someone to whom they are close-knit. It takes being brave and realistic, responsible and mature, and willing to admit that there are aspects of the conflict you'll just have to let go of. Instead, the Putnam family found a scapegoat. That was easier-- Perhaps it really was the best they could do given who they were, the strident and uncompromising times in which they lived, and the utter lack of legal and professional assistance from outside the sphere of Salem during that crucial period. The Putnams found a scapegoat, and then another, and then another, until 150 women and men were accused of the practice of witchcraft, a crime punishable by death in seventeenth century New England. Nineteen women and men were hanged, one man was pressed to death, several others died in prison, and the lives of many were irreversibly changed. [This basic summary of the facts is from the Salem Witch Museum's pamphlet, "Miscellany:"]
"To understand the events of the Salem witch trials, it is necessary to examine the times in which accusations of witchcraft occurred… A strong belief in the devil, factions among Salem Village families and rivalry with nearby Salem Town combined with a recent smallpox epidemic and the threat of attack by warring tribes created fertile ground for fear and suspicion…" "In 1689, Governor Edmund Andros, appointed by James II of England, had been overthrown and the charter between Massachusetts Bay Colony and the crown had been revoked. Salem, politically unstable, was unable to form a court to try those accused of witchcraft until the new charter and governor were installed in May of 1692." The court that heard the cases during the Salem Witch Trials entertained "spectral" or invisible evidence. "This belief in the power of the accused to use their invisible shapes or spectres to torture their victims had sealed the fates of those tried by [that make-shift court]. The Superior Court of Judicature, formed to replace the 'witchcraft court,' did not allow spectral or invisible evidence. The new court released those awaiting trial, and the governor pardoned those awaiting execution. In effect, the Salem witch trials were over."
In addition to all those elements that contributed to Salem's witch hysteria, the minister of Salem Village, Samuel Parris, was a significant factor-- concrete things he did and said, as well as the spirit he perpetuated and encouraged in his home, in the church, and in Salem Village. Parris was a bitter, even self-contemptuous man. He had been unsuccessful in his other careers before becoming the minister in Salem. He arrived there with a sense of entitlement and he felt great deference was due to him. He had continual squabbles with some of the church members about compensation, including firewood, real estate he felt he deserved, and the details of his contract. The two "afflicted girls" who initially became mysteriously ill and seemed to be possessed by evil spirits were Parris's daughter and niece. Parris, the Putnam family who were his supporters, and the family doctor – William Griggs, in their scapegoating fashion, tried to locate those "evil spirits" somewhere outside of Parris, his home, the church he served, and the heart of their beloved Salem Village. Eventually, Parris had to admit, through his sermons, that any and all of us have the potential to act in manipulative or corrupt ways. Parris felt second-rate when he compared himself to other men who had more money, property, and status than he did. Parris's supporters in Salem Village felt second-rate when they compared themselves to the more prosperous, worldly and powerful residents of Salem Town. Parris and his parishioners in Salem Village were in a pity party together in which they kept egging each other on, in which the scope of other people they blamed for their lot in life got increasingly larger.
In a separate sermon, at a later date, I want to look at what was really going on with those "afflicted girls," as they are generally called. No one knows for sure what afflicted them, I'm sure it was complicated, and scholars have several fascinating theories. But for this morning, I want us to stay focused on the phenomenon of scapegoating. I think we, in this congregation, are in pretty good shape as regards not scapegoating individuals or groups. And a time when bad behavior is not happening is the best time to establish some safeguards to try to prevent it from happening. My hope is that knowing more about what scapegoating is and why it occurs will help us steer clear of the trap of it in the future. …because scapegoating is destructive-- It hurts innocent individuals and groups, all the while the original underlying conflict remains unresolved and festers to resurface another day.
The best explanation of scapegoating I have seen is by a scholar named Rene Girard. My colleague the Rev. Tom Schade [co-minister of the First Unitarian Church of Worcester] sums up Girard's explanation of scapegoating in his paper, "The Odyssey of Theodicy," [which I'll be happy to share with you if you'd like to read it for yourself]. Rev. Schade writes:
"People want what other people want… We imitate each other's desires, and so therefore, other people are both our models, and our rivals. Most parents have observed that two children sitting in a room full of toys will often end up fighting over the same [toy]. Girard reflected on the mimesis [or imitation] of desire and concluded that it inevitably led to conflicts in the small groups of human beings that existed before human culture developed. Potentially, these conflicts would lead to occasions in which all battled all. But the same mimesis [or imitation] that would lead a small band of humans into a conflict of all against all also contains the possibility of resolving that conflict. When the conflict was at its height, someone would point to one person as the cause of the conflict. Through the very same process of imitation, that gesture of blame and rejection would be instantly communicated throughout the group. The violence of the group would be directed at a single victim, a scapegoat. The internal process of the group turns in a flash from all-against-all to all-against-one, and the scapegoat is expelled, often murdered, in mob violence. Peace would be temporarily restored to the group. [But as I said a minute ago, the scapegoating is ultimately destructive, not healing, to the group. Innocent individuals and groups have been harmed, and the original underlying conflict remains unresolved to fester and resurface another day. The Rev. Schade goes on to write that:] "Girard argues that the process of creating a peace through the process of the expulsion of the scapegoat victim also includes the creation of a myth. When the scapegoat is expelled, the group needs to believe that it was a righteous action. Since it was not, a myth is needed, an explanation that assigns all of the blame for the violence to the victim, and assigns nobility to the actions of the mob. In these moments of mob murder, gods and monsters are created." That's a scenario in which the truths about blame and responsibility have been masked. In order for an original underlying conflict to be resolved and the community healed, the truth must come out. The Rev. Schade emphasizes, at the end of his paper, Girard's conclusion that "no event can be fully assessed until its victims have been heard from," and that real progress of humanity will come to pass when "all of humanity's institutions, systems, and ideologies will be examined from the point of view of their potential victims."
Sadly, each of you can probably recall a time when you were scapegoated. My personal interest in the Salem Witch Trial is that I'd always heard that the accused women tended to be independent-minded and book-loving; creative, imaginative, and sharp-tongued; and managed their own household and finances. In addition to all those things, my cat has a name –Sidney- and I talk about him as if he is a person. So, yes, from time to time, it occurs to me that, in another century, I probably would have been hanged as a witch. And it is my empathy with the people harmed and murdered as witches in Salem-- my empathy for them as individuals, each with their own inherent dignity and worth, that is the answer to the tragedy of scapegoating. Empathy comes from understanding, which comes from knowledge of the true facts and circumstances-- knowledge of others as well as knowledge of oneself.
As research for this sermon, I went to Salem a couple weeks ago-- What a charming little city! The ocean, the shops with souvenirs and curios, the bookstores, the lovely architecture-- I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Yet everywhere you turn, you're faced with reminders of the horrible events of 1692. Yet the people who live and work there were all so friendly and cheerful toward me-- merry, even! I think the two are connected. If a community has intentionally looked at the violations of its past, and continues to acknowledge them out in the open air, they are then able to be more authentic, open, and caring. And they are free to keep progressing, learning new things, and meeting new people, unencumbered by festering shame. Americans, particularly public figures, need to be as open and honest about the many other tragedies of scapegoating in our nation's history. America's demonizing of groups perceived as threatening did not end in Salem in 1692. While in Salem, I went to the Witch Museum-- The presentation in the main room comes off as kind of tacky-- The lights are dimmed, mannequins dressed in Puritan garb are spot-lit, and a recorded message sort of preaches at us… But there were a few other presentations in the rooms following that one-- The exhibits actually got better and better as you went along. So it was the final one --just before the gift shop where we were supposed to spend gobs of money-- that we all found so stunning as to be profound. An entire wall was taken up by enormous letters spelling out:
FEAR + TRIGGER = SCAPEGOAT
JAPAN + PEARL HARBOR = JAPANESE AMERICANS
COMMUNISM + HUAC/JOE McCARTHY = BLACK-LISTED CITIZENS
INFECTION + AIDS = GAY COMMUNITY
Behind the letters are soft but clear black and white photographs, including one of Joseph McCarthy's angry and fearful anti-Communist tirades…
Just as America's scapegoating of particular groups did not end in Salem in 1692, the Salem Witch Trials took awhile to run their course. The Rev. Samuel Parris's successor had his work cut out for him. There was still more healing needed into the eighteenth century. But the Rev. Joseph Green was the perfect minister for the job. He was not strident in his ideology nor confused and conflicted in his theology. He was a happy, centered, helpful person, able to differentiate himself from squabbles of individuals, groups, and the wider community. He loved rainbows, frogs, insects, and bird songs! [And he was also financially independent, so he did not have reason to clash with parishioners about his compensation.] Very shortly after he arrived in Salem, he began helping accusers and accused reconcile with one another, and also pacified conflict between Salem Village and Salem Town. He helped the congregation build a new meeting house. Then, as the authors of Salem Possessed, Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum, wrote: "Green turned his attention to devising civic projects to which no reasonable person could well object… he proposed to the Village meeting the building of a school and the hiring of a person 'to teach their children to read and write and cypher and everything that is good.'…Another of his projects had to do with the Village poor.
Under his leadership, the Villagers began to collect an annual Thanksgiving offering for distribution to the needy… With these two strokes --the founding of the school and the systematization of charity-- Green had moved to bring under institutional control two groups whose ill-defined status had contributed so significantly to the breakdown of 1692: young people and indigents… Joseph Green also played a strategic role in helping reshape the Village's response to the world beyond. The minister himself accepted wholeheartedly the emerging world of eighteenth century Boston and Salem –urbane, commercial, secular- and he helped the farmers of Salem Village accept that world as well."
The villagers of old Salem felt the threat of war, political turmoil, and historical change too rapid to fully comprehend. We, here, this morning, tremble at those looming threats, too. The lesson from those villagers to us is exquisitely simple: we must not make rivals of one another. For if we each have, within us, the littleness to get stuck in blaming, then we each also have the nobleness to strengthen our neighbor in need-- that none need perish in the storms of changing times.
Let it be and, Amen.