QUEST

November 1999

From Your Minister, by Rev. Jane Rzepka
REsources for Living by Betsy Williams

The Reverend Jane Rzepka From Your Minister
by Rev. Jane Ranney Rzepka, minister, CLF

I got the full Pilgrim treatment in elementary school: construction paper Pilgrims in the windows of the school—their little faces made from the stack of pink paper, the shoes from the black pile, and the buckles made out of the yellow-colored paper. We made Pilgrim hats for ourselves, too—black paper hats complete with the now familiar yellow buckles. Finally, for our last artistic history project, we'd trace our hands, color the fingers to look like feathers, and call the result a turkey.

So I knew about Pilgrims from school: Pilgrims crowded together on the Mayflower, they landed, said hello to the Indians, and they all ate one heck of a Thanksgiving dinner. That was the basic deal on Pilgrims when I was growing up.

From The Pilgrim Story, by William Atwood

"The Mayflower, ...now numbering one hundred and two souls, left Plymouth September 16th, 1620, and began its historic journey westward. For a goodly part of the voyage of over two months' duration the ship was buffeted by equinoctial winds and high seas... After a long beating at sea they fell with that land which is called Cape Cod, ...and they were not a little joyful..."

"It was the 21st of November when the Mayflower dropped anchor in the sheltered and quiet waters of Provincetown Harbor and one may well imagine the happiness and gratitude of these weary voyagers when they sighted this haven of refuge and were once more able to place their feet upon dry land. As Bradford records: "Being thus arrived in a good harbor and brought safe to land, they fell upon their knees and blessed the God of heaven who had brought them over the vast and furious ocean, and delivered them from all the perils and miseries thereof, again to set their feet on the firm and stable earth, their proper element."

Somehow all this loses its appeal once you know the true history. We grow up, we stop tracing our hands to make the holiday turkeys, we go for years without giving the Pilgrims a thought, we leave it all behind.

So this year I thought I'd go another round with the Pilgrims.

A pilgrim is a person who travels from place to place, a person who journeys. A wanderer. The 19th century poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti defined "pilgrim" as anyone who "leaveth the place" of his or her birth.

I had always thought that a pilgrim was on some kind of a religious trip, or that the word was used as a metaphor for an important quest of the sort I myself would never think of embarking upon. The word pilgrim was used by pious types who knew about higher purposes than mine. But really, dictionary-definition pilgrims, pilgrims without the capital "P," are just folks like me, like most of us. Folks who once were born and from that point on, began wandering through life.

Most of the time we put one foot in front of the other just fine. But now and then, like the famous Pilgrims in the sidebar, we step onto a boat that does get "buffeted by equinoctial winds and high seas," and then as weary voyagers we, like them, sight our haven of refuge and put our feet upon dry land once more. As Governor Bradford said, "again we set our feet on the firm and stable earth, their proper element."

We do wander through life. I guess that makes us pilgrims. We're moving along and boom. The measles. Boom. A home run. Boom. We're in love. Boom. Somebody dies. Boom. We get what we thought we wanted. Boom. That wasn't quite it. Boom. Life is clear. Boom. No it isn't. We are pilgrims. We travel from place to place.

In a poem by Galway Kinnell called "Middle of the Way," the narrator wanders around in the snow, loses the trail, finds it, stumbles around in the dark, eventually relies on a map and compass, and finally warms himself by a comforting fire. He says,"All I see is we float out /Into the emptiness, among the great stars, /On this little vessel without lights... /Half my life belongs to the wild darkness."

I find that enormously comforting. I like knowing that we pilgrims don't always have to have a New World ahead, or even a destination. Pilgrims can, if we want to, just float out into the emptiness, among the great stars, on a little vessel without lights. I like knowing that floating around in the "wild darkness" is a legitimate game plan.

I understand that most of us pilgrims do our best to keep gas in the car and breakfast cereal lined up on the shelf; we try to get the trash out on the right day, have a matched pair of clean socks in the drawer, and know where our keys are. We don't notice the floating so much that way, or the darkness. We are pilgrims, short on buckle shoes perhaps, but pilgrims. The truth is, we don't know the route exactly—even though we do our best to map it out. We're going to have to wander and float. Those equinoctial winds are going to get us sometimes, but most of the time, the firm and stable earth is right there up ahead. We are pilgrims, traveling from place to place. And I, for one, am going to enjoy the trip.

So may it be for us all.

Jane Rzepka, Minister

Quest November 1999 Contents

Betsy Williams REsources for Living
Betsy Hill Williams, Religious Education Director, CLF

We're in the midst of the fall line-up—and I'm not talking about the new TV season. I'm talking about the line-up of fall holidays: Columbus Day, Halloween, Veteran's Day, and Thanksgiving. One after another these holidays descend on us, and though many of my favorite family memories are wrapped in them, I'm also aware that the moral challenges they present are significant.

On Columbus Day we New Englanders (among others) celebrate the landing of Europeans on American soil, an event that led to the near annihilation of indigenous peoples through the spread of new and incurable diseases. Halloween, originally a seasonal New Year celebration (Samhain) for Pagan Celts, was later made into All Hallows or All Saint's Day by early Christians to honor those among the dead who were made holy or "hallowed" by obedience to God. It has evolved into an opportunity to hoard as much candy as you can, or to deface or destroy property in the name of innocent mischief. No one would question the call to honor those who gave their lives in America's wars on Veteran's Day, but the wars themselves give many moral pause. Vietnam veterans discovered this when they received a less-than-heroic welcome on their return. And finally comes Thanksgiving, another celebration based on a European invasion that led to conquest over native peoples.

I struggle with how to balance the difficult realities these holidays present with the equally valid opportunities for spiritual and communal celebration that they provide. And "balance" is the key word. I agree completely with Stephanie Nichols (p. 1) that we should not be lured into the "false dilemma" of Thanksgiving where "either you protest Thanksgiving because it is a holiday grounded in genocide; or you live in denial of the sins of your ancestors." Spiritual health suggests that we embrace both the harsh and beautiful realities of life. And personal integrity requires that we face honestly the conflict of values that some holidays present and try to develop responses to strengthen, not diminish, our self-understan-ding and respect.

This reading is offered to help you and your family open the discussion, welcome the full truth as part of a wholeness that will render your celebrations more meaningful and fulfilling. You and your family may want to designate a special night to learn more about these holidays. You could use this litany (read in two or more voices) and light candles after each segment for the good and the bad that comes with each. Family members could research the holidays and bring their findings back to share. Finally, a commitment to action could conclude your celebration, such as learning more about native or veteran concerns in your area, learning more about your ancestors and your own roots in America, or simply committing to include the more difficult lessons of these events in all future celebrations.

Reader 1: Time to celebrate! A day off at last!

Reader 2: But what really happened on this day? Who are those we celebrate? We need the truth. We do care.