Slow Faith in the Fast Lane

Amy Hollingsworth has written a need-to-read book, The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers. Early in the book, this comment from Fred Rogers himself: "For me, being quiet and slow is being myself, and that is my gift."

One expression of that gift came when Mister Rogers stood before 5,000 cheering graduates at the Boston University commencement in 1992, and said very quietly, "You wanna sing with me?" Then motioning them to be seated he spoke again: "Why don't you just sit down, and we'll sing this song together." And then he led all 5,000 in a rendition of It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood. One observer said that everyone knew the song, and "waves of red robes swayed side to side, arms intertwined, subdued by the sense of security and ritual that Mister Rogers had always given them." Graduates, singing what they learned from Mister Rogers when they were two or three. It gives you an idea of what a good song can do.

The other day while driving to Concord, I was musing on Mister Roger's comment about being quiet and slow and the fact that he always talked with an almost exaggerated calmness. I found myself turning off the radio and slowing down as I thought how I would like to live more in the "Mister Rogers way." For a few moments, thanks to Mister Rogers's influence, I actually began to feel very centered, at peace with myself, with God, with things in general.

Then I turned on to Route 106—the main road to Concord—and immediately fell in with the 65-m.p.h rush-hour traffic. The inspiration of Mister Rogers's gift was quickly forgotten. I don't think Mister Rogers ever drove Route 106.

A minute later I saw the state patrol car hidden off to one side of the road, its officer pointing a radar gun at me as if to say, "slow down, or you're toast."

I live near the center of these extremes: on one side, the inspiration which grows in the heart from an example of someone like Mister Rogers and, on the other side, the external re-enforcement of threatened consequences if I exceed the limits. Put a second way: if I do not live out of the soul, I will be forced to live by the law and its penalties.

In the Warrack Lectures of 1958 delivered in Scotland (and published under the title The Preacher's Calling to be a Servant, D. T. Niles offered these words: "Hurry means that we gather impressions but have no experiences, that we collect acquaintances but make no friends, that we attend meetings but experience no encounter. We must recover eternity if we are to find time, and eternity is what Jesus came to restore. For without it, there can be no charity."

To which I say, "Whoa!"

I can even think pious thoughts while watching TV: Seeing Ty—the guy who team-leads on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition—shout "move that bus!" makes me think of St. Paul who cried out (by pen), "I tell you a mystery: we will not all sleep, but we will all be changed." Or try this idea. Can you imagine Jesus readying the faithful for a first-time glimpse of Heaven and shouting his version of "move that bus!"? (Note to preachers: you can use this idea if you live more than 100 miles from where I preach).

EU: It occurs to me that French President Jacques Chirac now knows what it's like to be a Baptist pastor on the night of a congregational business meeting when the congregation votes 55-45% against the annual budget proposal.

When I think of people in need of reconciling with each other, my mind turns to the words of John Adams to Thomas Jefferson just a short while before the two men died. They had been at odds with each other for some time. Adams writes to Jefferson: "You and I ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to each other."

What's in a name? The church where my wife and I worship is thinking of changing its name. Some of us don't think the old one works any more. We've had the same name for 180 years (it's a New England not a California church), and, in my opinion anyway, it's a dull, boring, and probably pejorative name (meaning that it scares some people away). So we're toying with a new identifier.

We ask ourselves, Should the name be designed to please the folks inside or those on the outside who might be drawn into our circle? Should it be a name that describes the spiritual aspirations of the church? The building's location? A dreamy, postmodern kind of name? Or a name that employs biblical words or Christians themes like hope, peace, or grace.

Anyone have an opinion? Write me.

Pastor and author Gordon MacDonald is also chair of World Relief and editor at large for Leadership.

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