Humbled, and in love with this town of Oak Ridge
When I first read Katori Hall’s “The Mountaintop,” I fell in the love with the play. As a pastor, I could point to a dozen things that made me cringe theologically. As a pastor who has kept Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s final speech taped above my office computer for 12 years, I could point to a dozen things that made me cheer. And as a pretty simple human being, who understands fear, anxiety, courage, and what it’s like to have a 39-year-old heart that has worn itself out to about age 70, there were a dozen places that made me cry.
“Workers are gunna work…” that’s how I was raised. When we got off the bus at 3:30 PM on school days, I cannot remember a time we didn’t have chores. I remember on some days, my chore was to pick Japanese beetles off of our crops. Dad would inspect my jars when he got home from work to see how many I peeled off. I didn’t dread that work, I actually loved it. Mostly because I loved to eat what we grew, and I was able early on to connect the work to the reward.
Fast forward 45-years and I have no idea what the rewards are for the work I do in ministry. I’ve gone long enough without seeing them to even stop looking for rewards. When you work with people in the long term, sometimes you never get to know what good you did – if any. Results go largely unseen; they stay in hidden places, or show themselves years past the time you said, or did, whatever it was you did. It’s harder than farming because it doesn’t truly move in seasons, but the time passes in seasons of seasons.
On the morning of the play, Wednesday March 1st, I woke at 4:00 AM and I started praying. That’s how I manage anxiety, your mileage may vary. By the end of the day, Wednesday March 1st, I still wasn’t sure how the play landed although I had some good feedback. What I was sure of were the many people who love me, love what we are doing together, and who worked alongside me, and walked out on a very shaky limb with me. Something spiritual happened for me that night that extended beyond the play itself.
For the first time, in a great long while, I looked around and didn’t feel alone. People were baking brownies, making coffee, setting up table-cloths, washing dishes, printing playbills, opening doors, having conversations, and sharing love.
It was like an orchestra was playing out right before my eyes, and for the first time since I can remember, I felt like I could disappear……. and I felt the party, preparations, and postludes would all carry on without me. Synergy in community. It was so thick that I could smell it in the room. It oozed from the wallpaper.
I took a deep breath, and in an instant, it hit me – this thing is happening. We’re going to level up in Oak Ridge. And it’s going to be sweet.
Thank you for coming out to a play that maybe gave us all a reason to separate apart. Thank you for showing up with larger souls and being able to see the bigger picture that is brewing like grandma’s best soup in the most fragrant kitchen imaginable. Thank you for having my back and sharing my joy.
I feel so lucky to have been a part of such a wonderful night. I owe so much to so many.
It’s humbling. I am in love with this town, deep down. Deep down in love.
David