In the front of the sanctuary, each Sunday, either Larry or
I preach from a somewhat ornate pulpit made of cherry wood. I love that old pulpit. It was the new, modern, pulpit in 1885. At that time, all of the current furnishings
and pews in the sanctuary were introduced.
I don’t know who made it, but it is exquisitely made. When I stand there on Sunday, sometimes I
like to imagine other ministers standing behind it down through the years.
There are two somewhat worn and discolored areas on the
pulpit; on the rear outside corners where the preacher might put his hands as
he leans in toward the congregation to say something particularly important or
to pray. I imagine Rev. Henry Huntington
placing his hands there for the first time in 1885. The dynamic Rev. George Reynolds (another
Union Seminary man) placed his hands there when he explained to the
congregation how the entire Board of Deacons had resigned to protest his “highhanded
ways.” Rev. James Gregory laid his hands
there to offer a prayer for President William McKinley the Sunday after he was
assassinated. Rev. Carnes leaned on
those spots to pray for the soldiers from Gorham who dies in the Great War and
Rev. Harrison Dubbs prayed the church through the terrors of World War II. I had my hands on those two places on the
pulpit as we prayed for the victims of 9/11.
As we begin another church season, I always like to remember
that when we gather here, we do so as part of a long and wonderful tradition
that connects us in one community to the pioneer settlers here in the early
1700’s, the family farmers of the 1800’s, and the small town folk of the
1900’s. The town has changed, the nation
has been transformed and the church is not quite what they would recognize, but
has all been one continuous journey. We
are still the same community of worshippers that started here 263 years ago. We owe them everything that we have and
everything that we are.
Our own individual journeys of faith are simply parts of
that bigger picture and legs of that longer trek. If social justice and equality are important
to us today, it is because of the seeds sown in the thinking of those
abolitionists of the 1850’s and those campaigners for women’s suffrage of the
1890’s. If we live out a faith in a God
of love and a Jesus of compassion, it is the blossoming of a faith preached
here two hundred years ago that moved beyond the judgmental Puritanism of its
time. If we can open our hearts and minds
to broader truths and other ways of finding and experiencing God, it is also
because of the lessons of tolerance and acceptance that sprang out of the
democratic, covenantal heart of the faith of our forbearers. It is magnificent and humbling to contemplate
the whole saga of which we are only the latest little chapter.
This fall, we will begin our new “Beyond Worship” program
with three classes exploring and celebrating the history of this
congregation. This is an opportunity to
get to know the spirits and souls with whom we share this building and whose
stories lead directly to our own. This
church has been a community growing, adapting, innovating and leading for over
two hundred and sixty years. It is
important, as we try to both adapt and lead in our time, to learn how we have
done it before. Karl Barth once said
that it is the impulse toward faith that makes us human. Part of that impulse is the need to see
ourselves as a part of some larger whole, the need to connect to the meaning at
the heart of all that is. Right here, in
our little church community, we also need to connect to the larger whole of our
faith story as a community. It is
complex, difficult, but also inspiring.
Come and be a part of it.
