Guest commentary by William Saum
As I read the extensive and appreciative obituaries and warmly favorable editorial comments, I began to wonder if there were some things that we in the church might learn from this beloved and effective servant. What was it about his ministry and the way that he carried it out that might help or inspire us as we seek to share God’s love with a hungry and searching world.
I’m not suggesting that any of us should or could replicate his unique career. I never met Fred Rogers, though I know many of you have, but I see him as a singular figure in American history. He certainly had a hand in raising and entertaining my children. I think it might be useful to explore the qualities that made Mr. Rogers such an important part of American culture and such a powerful influence on the lives of millions of people. What might we in the Presbyterian Church learn from him?
First of all, Mr. Rogers was a gentle, humble man. He was a Christian in thought, word and deed. His was not a false modesty or low self-esteem or a naïve affectation. He was gentle. He spoke softly. He moved comfortably. He knew his gifts and he offered them generously and graciously. That gentleness, that humility, that “sweetness” is a rare quality these days — even in the church.
Mr. Rogers was filled with respect for others, especially the children. He didn’t tease or accuse or in any way demean other persons. He didn’t call names or spread rumors. He genuinely valued each person and did not stand in judgment of others. Most importantly, he respected others enough to tell them the truth. Among the things I read after his death, I saw numerous references to his ability to talk openly and frankly to children about very difficult subjects. Mentioned most often were things he said about divorce and death. He didn’t talk down to the children. He didn’t patronize or scare them. He told them the truth in terms they could understand.
Here’s an odd one to mention. He made appropriate use of technology. He discovered new ways to use the medium of television. Because he didn’t go in for whiz-bang, frenetic fireworks; we think of him as old-fashioned. But in fact he was a pioneer. He somehow combined the modern and the old-fashioned and helped shape generations of those young adults we now call post-modern.
Most of all Mr. Rogers cared. He cared deeply. He cared expressively. He cared intentionally and explicitly. He cared particularly.
What would a church patterned after Fred Rogers’ ministry look like? It would be seeking peaceful solutions to problems and conflicts. It would be a humble and effective presence in its community. It would show the love of Jesus in every aspect of its life. It would be a place where the imagination ran free — where there were good stories and caring neighbors. Oh, and it would be fun, playful and sensitive. Everybody would be welcome and they would know they were welcome. No snobs — no self righteousness — no backbiting — not even very much gossip. People would tell the truth and then help one another deal with the consequences. It would be a place of strong convictions, humbly held.
And here’s a hunch — a risky one to be sure. I believe that if our post-modern young people — the late boomers and the busters and the generation X’ers and millennial teens and twenties — could find a church that showed them the same love, acceptance and respect they saw in Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, they might respond. It probably would not be as quiet as his house. The music might be louder — the puppet shows replaced by other dramas. But if they felt accepted, valued, “just the way they are.” I wonder.
Joyce Millman, TV critic for the Boston Phoenix, who wrote the article in the SundayTimes, said this: “Fred Rogers undertook his life’s work with extraordinary integrity and grace. He never preached (though he was an ordained Presbyterian minister), but then he didn’t need to: his open demeanor and gentle drawl carried greater moral authority than a thousand pulpits.”
Isn’t it ironic? While churches are trying desperately to reach young Americans, we have had in our midst a Presbyterian saint who was doing that on a grand scale every day. Maybe it’s not too late to learn from his compelling example. The world right now is a grim and ugly place, filled with anxious people asking in a million ways, “Would you be my . . . could you be my neighbor?” How do we answer?
William P. Saum is executive presbyter of Newton Presbytery.
