A LONG DAY IN SCHOOL
by George Dorsey
January 25, 2004
According to my New Oxford Dictionary, a sermon is a “talk on a religious or moral subject”. I am singularly unqualified to do that Another definition describes a sermon as a “long, tedious piece of admonition or reproof.” I’m good at that but it would not be appropriate. It occurs to me that it is risky to allow a man about to enter the 78th year of an eventful life to give his first --and last--sermon. When I asked my friend Frank Patton what he would like to do this Sunday he offered to close the service with an explanation and rebuttal of the sermon -- A good thought, but it might set a troublesome precedent.The history booklet of a historic Unitarian Universalist church on the West Coast describes a period of “highly autobiographical” sermons during the five year ministry there of one of the better known UU ministers of the last 40 years. The comment had a bit of an edge. The bulletin board outside the church announces that I am “preaching” today.
At this age I am trying to avoid preaching and try to just share experience. So, if I am going to say anything from the heart I have to risk being a bit autobiographical, at least to share some experiences and things I hope have learned.
Years ago, two close friends – who never met each other – told me I was trying to live as though I were a character in a Joseph Conrad novel. I did not ask them which book, but hoped they did not mean Heart of Darkness. They may have meant The Outcast of the Islands -- a role I’ve enjoyed playing from time to time. My friend’s comments got my attention. As a youth I loved Conrad’s novels, particularly the stories of the sea and the colonial Far East of a century ago. There was something in those old yarns that resonated with my callow romanticism: the insights into both the darker angels as well as the brighter angels of human nature – the moral intelligence – and the recurring theme of redemption resulting from commitment They have meaning to me still. There have been so many people and incidents that reminded me of Conrad. Ordinary people – who at some point did something – perhaps unimportant – but in some way extraordinary.
Conrad’s protagonists generally come to an outwardly tragic end. At the end of one such story the hero and heroine die at the hands of the bad guys. The book is titled VICTORY. The victory, of course is the triumph that results from finding love and commitment. The heroine believes that she is giving her life to save that of the man who had rescued her from enslavement and degradation. The hero had turned his back on humanity, thinking he could avoid suffering by cutting himself off from others. The recognition of his ability to love another person allowed him to die with a faith in life that he had never known.
What does constitute victory?
Last June I attended the Interweave (Gay/Lesbian) banquet at the UU General Assembly in Boston... I arrived late and was seated at the table with the speakers. They were two men comprising one of the seven couples bringing suit against the Commonwealth of Massachusetts asserting their right to be married. As a product of my generation, and a gay man very happy in a 37 year relationship without benefit of ceremony or certificate , I have some degree of ambivalence on the issue. This story is not about the issue.
The group that selected the plaintiffs for this legal action knew what they were doing. The speakers were men in their fifties, both professionals. Between them they had five children and three grandchildren. They had never before been involved in gay rights activity. They projected an image of solid, middle aged, middle class conservatism. One was a self described introvert, never having expected to have microphones thrust in his face as he left a courtroom, or to see himself on television and in Newsweek. They told us they had the full support of their ex wives and grown children.
They were: A poster couple.
It is difficult to understand how they could offend or frighten anyone.
Each told his personal story and together they explained the reasons for doing something so out of character. It could not have been an easy decision. I was profoundly moved. After their talk a number of us remained at the table for what turned into an intense discussion. Most of those present focused intensely on the legal issues and the importance of the outcome. At some point one of the speakers responded, very mildly, that he hoped they would win, but in any event the struggle would go on for a long time. Trying to get his attention but not sure that he heard me, I said: “Don’t you realize you have already won”? His head spun around – he leaned across the table – looked me squarely in the eye – smiled -- and said “ YES - I KNOW – I KNOW “.I believe we understood each other completely. Now that was right out of Conrad.
There is a great passage in Conrad’s best known novel, Lord Jim, in which two old colonials in the Dutch East Indies discuss the title character. “Jim” was an idealistic youth who had been intent on doing great things, heroic deeds, but was haunted by an act of cowardice. He was drifting from port to port, able to survive – but never content – always moving on – looking for some opportunity to regain something lost – find forgiveness. The narrator, who had tried to help him, seeks an explanation for his behavior --.a diagnosis. After listening to the long story, his companion, an old Dutch trader responds ------ “ I understand very well – he is romantic”.
I had a great friend – Fran – a gentle, enthusiastic, outgoing, slightly eccentric literature professor at a Jesuit University in the West. In 1986, for financial reasons, Fran took a two-year sabbatical and accepted a contract to teach English in Timisoura, Romania. His wife and two teen-agers were with him for the first three months and then he was alone. After the family left, under circumstances that sound like something out of John Le Carre’, Fran and a Romanian woman attempted to organize an Alcoholic’s Anonymous group – the first in Romania. Of course, this was a non-political effort, but it was the era of Ceacescu and the Securitate. – the most vicious regime behind the iron curtain. People were not permitted to meet in unsupervised groups. The little group of 2 to 8 met in parks, railroad stations and a secluded room in an ancient church. Fran’s rooms and phone were bugged. I called him twice and was shocked by his unspoken fear of what I might say -- the palpable paranoia on the part of this open, trusting man. Securitate agents were watching the group…..As he left the country, Fran was taken off the train at the Hungarian border and detained under guard for 12 hours…
The following day three of his friends and the priest who had provided the secret meeting place were arrested and held for several days.
Fran and I had a long visit shortly after he came home. He was consumed by the experience. He told me that the night before he left Timisoara, coming home from a meeting with the little group, walking through the old city with it’s medieval alleys and archways -- he was overcome with a powerful feeling that he did not want to leave – did not want to go back to the family he loved dearly and the profession to which he was dedicated.He loved Romania ---- he FELT SO ALIVE.
Now what on earth was the matter with this man? Echoing Conrad’s old Dutchman:
It is very simple – he was romantic.
Fran’s seems a reckless, foolish romanticism. And yet --I have been to Romania. What Fran began has, in a freer climate, spread to 25 other cities and is saving and salvaging lives throughout the country. The story of what happened in Timisoura 17 years ago has become a legend in Romania. Fran is revered – and will be for a long time. Fran died last year and received a Mr. Chips send off from his university. Foolish, .romantic – perhaps. I would settle for his legacy.
One more little memory . . .
It was a Sunday afternoon during the third week of August 1945. A group of sailors were sunbathing on the deck of an LST (Landing Ship Tank} anchored in the lagoon at Eniwetok Atoll in the Marshall Islands. I don’t know who was responsible, since most of the sailors liked big band and country music, but the opulent strains of Rachmoninoff’s 2nd Symphony washed over the deck from a loudspeaker. The atomic bomb had exploded over Hiroshima August 6th. Japan had surrendered. The war was over. We would not take part in an invasion of Japan. We were going home. I remember that as we lay in the sun we talked about our plans and our dreams. Most of us had enlisted at 17 – and -- We were romantic.
That was nearly 60 years ago. I do not know what life held for this group of my shipmates. According to Tom Brokaw, most members of my generation are pleased with the way their lives turned out. That is surely true for me.
With so much experience, I would hope for more wisdom – but I doubt they equate. Whenever I believe I have a little wisdom it seems as banal as a bumper sticker. A member of All Souls told me a few days ago that you cannot have wisdom without humility. This seems Catch 22, since if you think you have humility, I suspect you probably do not.
As I look back, the accomplishments, the CEO t-shirts, the little victories, do not provide my most satisfying memories. These come from the occasions when I chose the right course or the right side – and I have not always done that – that I worked with the good guys and gave it the best I had – that I made and kept a tough and meaningful commitment. How things turned out is secondary. I have acquired far greater strength and spiritual growth from disappointments and defeats than from successes. From defeats and disappointments I have learned that the important thing is to find hope…and love… and trust in life…….
And, I’ve learned that like a lowly turtle I can’t make much progress unless my neck is stuck out.When I became a member of All Souls 10 years ago I was not seeking to be comforted or nourished. I wanted to be challenged – intellectually and spiritually. All Souls has met that need beyond my expectations. And you all have given me so much more. You have challenged me to action in areas and in ways that I would not have considered. So many of you are my kind of people – willing to commit – sometimes to causes that may seem lost. (Listening to Mary Ella’s and Tom’s reading “the younger ministers were not daunted” I guess UU’s have always been willing to commit.} ….
I think we UU’s are romantic.
That’s about it:
Someone I met just once but who had a great influence on my life used to say something like this:
“ This whole deal is just a long day in school. Sometimes good things happen and sometimes bad things happen What matters is simply how we deal with what life sends us, what we learn and whether we are willing to pass on what we learn”.
Amen ----God bless us all.