Reflection, April 2002 (as published in First Days Record)
By Jennie A. Barrington, Minister,
the Church of the Unity, Unitarian Universalist, Winchendon, MA
“to Live and Dwell Among Us”
“Any ordinary city is in fact two cities, one the city of the
poor and the other the city of the rich, each at war with the
other.” [Plato, The Republic, 4th century B.C.]
Seven months ago, the Church of the Unity, Unitarian Universalist, of
Winchendon, Massachusetts, sent me a contract which begins:
“We invite you to come and dwell among us and be our
minister…”
Their ideal was that the new minister would live in the same town as
our church. And that is my ideal, as well. I have found that when I
don’t, I am in the dark about so many concerns and joys, that I
cannot minister as well as I want to, in my preaching, prayers, social
justice work, nor when leading rite of passage ceremonies. It has been
my pleasure “to dwell among us.” I have now seen our town
in summer, autumn, and winter. I am looking forward to seeing it in
spring, and to our beginning a new church year together next autumn. By
now I can honestly say that I love this town.
“To dwell” means [1] to live or reside; [2] to be present
or exist; [3] to linger over or emphasize in thought, speech, or
writing. In short, it means to stay awhile. In our chaplaincy training,
we learn that seldom should we try to advise, fix, or do for others.
Rather, our work is to be a non-anxious, supportive presence, a
listening ear, a representative of a gracious and justice-seeking god.
In the hours and weeks following September 11th, some ministers went to
Manhattan, some wrote to their newspapers and legislators. I went to
the phone, to our church, and out into the streets, in order to hear
from people directly their concerns, questions, fears, opinions, and
beliefs. Though much of the sense of emergency has passed, I continue
to do that chaplaincy work for our congregation and our town, staying
awhile as people do the work of their souls. I will always be grateful
that, during this turbulent autumn, I had this ministry to do, this
town to live in, and these townspeople to dwell among.
As ministers, we are also charged to preach and teach the truth as we
see it, without fear of any person and with respect for all persons.
When at my best, I name well the highs and lows of this place in which
we dwell, and timely so. I am still new here. But some things are
already clear to me, and, even at first meeting, this town and I have
felt familiar to each other.
And so, when talking with the Town Manager the other day I dared to
say, “It seems to me that Winchendon cannot figure out if it is a
blue collar town or an old money town. There’s a chasm in
between, and it’s growing. Since I come from people who struggle
economically, I am determined not to alienate the working people. It is
deeply important to me that I not forget where I come from. Yet I
don’t want to alienate the higher income people either.”
If we alienate people at first meeting -in our speech, manner of dress,
education level, or cultural references- then we lose any possible
opportunity to minister well with and for them.
The Town Manager said, “You are right in your description of the
two groups of people here-- That’s very accurate. But there are
also new money people moving in, from east of here, from the 495
belt.” “And that” (I thought) “is where the new
members of our church are going to come from.” (But I
didn’t say that.) “So there are three groups,” I said
to him. He nodded and said, “What I tell people is that I’m
a Blue Collar guy with a Blue Blood education.”
It’s a good honest answer, but it doesn’t erase my feeling
that, regarding economic class, I’m neither here nor there,
always “passing” for one group or the other. I think of
what a lawyer once said, about when arbitration doesn’t work.
“Say that there’s a couple who wants to get a dog-- But he
really wants a large dog, and she really wants a small dog-- Then
getting a middle-sized dog won’t help, and will even make things
worse.”
Am I a middle-sized dog in this town, now that I have a graduate degree
in theology? Or are the Town Manager and I just what a place like this
needs: people who are committed to serving everyone in this town, with
the expertise and experience needed to bring it into the future well?
Is it possible to preach and teach the truth as I see it to (at least)
three separate groups of people?
Shakespeare did. What made his plays so fine was that every scene
included language and imagery in a variety of dialects, costumes,
education levels, and cultural references. What makes them even finer
is that, in every class, there is trickery and integrity, ugliness and
beauty, sloppiness and artistry, dullness and intelligence. In the end,
no one is who they appeared to be in Act One. Everyone was just
passing. And the lasting wisdom comes from the wise Fool, who stands by
it all, listens watchfully, then preaches and teaches the truth,
without fear of any person and with respect for all persons. (I always
wanted to play Cordelia and the Fool in King Lear. There’s a
theory that they were originally both the same actor, since they are
never on stage at the same time.)
We dwell at the base of Mounts Monadnock and Wachusett;
We scurry, drive bad roads, pace hallways, break in clusters;
We spell each other respite with a ride, or extra hands to lift a heavy
load;
We say we need more businesses and rain.
Startled at the sight of Mounts Monadnock and Wachusett,
We are hearkened to the peoples, customs, ages, ways and times
beyond our fading rural town; we seethe with
uncivilized rebellions and salvific acts of decent, selfless grace;
a place so many others left behind.
We raise our eyes to light above us, our children to outlive us,
Our homes to hold the remnants of our lives; our hopes
That this, our march of days is not in vain;
that they will say of us we dwelt here well;
enhanced the common good; knew the sublime.
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