Point with pride

The late Ernie Rapley was an old time newsman. He worked for the
San Francisco Examiner and the Oakland Tribune at a time when
those, and other Bay Area newspapers, were flourishing. He was the
kind of beat reporter who knew the local politicians and the cops
on the street and he had a million stories. From time to time, he
also had some advice for me.
Ernie and his wife Esther moved to Healdsburg in the late ‘70s
and Ernie became an active member of St. Paul’s Church. Not
infrequently I would drop in at Ernie’s house around 5 p.m. and
Ernie would greet me with, “Well, Good afternoon Father. I see the
sun is over the yardarm. Could I interest you in a glass of
scotch?” On one of these visits Ernie said to me, “You know,
Marvin, I was just a reporter. Just the facts. But it always seemed
to me that you could divide the op-ed pieces into two categories:
those that viewed with alarm, and those that pointed with pride. If
I may say so, I think the same is true of sermons. The last few
Sundays you’ve been doing quite a bit of viewing with alarm. How
about a couple of Sundays of pointing with pride.
Of course, for preachers and for the writers of editorial and
opinion pieces, there is no shortage of things to view with alarm.
The Great Litany in the Book of Common Prayer has the classic list
of alarming things: evil and wickedness; pride, vainglory and
hypocrisy; hatred and malice; inordinate and sinful affections;
earthquake, fire, and flood; plague, pestilence and famine;
oppression, violence, battle and murder. A couple of Saturdays ago,
I might have been tempted to add litter to the list. I was walking
along the banks of Foss Creek between Matheson Street and Mill
Street picking up litter: beer cans and bottles (mostly Bud Light),
plastic bags, food containers from various fast food restaurants, a
mattress, a bicycle frame. I’m thinking, litter is not only
literally an ugly mess, it’s a sign of a society that is socially
and morally an ugly mess, a society in which at least some of the
people feel that they are being thrown away. If society can throw
away people, those people are not going to have a second thought
about throwing away beer bottles. My thoughts were turning into one
of those sermons that Ernie Rapley described as viewing with
alarm.
When my bag was full and my partner and I had made arrangements
for a city truck to come pick up the mattress and the bicycle
frame, I headed back to the staging area of the Foss Creek cleanup
day, located in the park between the Bear Republic Brewery and the
Creek. There I joined other volunteer litter-picker-uppers: Boy
Scouts, Rotarians, Kiwanians, members of the City Council, and
assorted fellow citizens of Healdsburg. The Farmers’ Market was in
busy progress on the other side of the Creek. The atmosphere was
happy, almost playful. Several bicycle frames and other items
dragged out of the Creek were being displayed as if they were
trophies. I’m thinking, being here with these people makes me
happy, it makes me proud. What these volunteers are doing not only
makes our city literally look better, what they are doing is a
sign. It’s a sign of a society that picks up after itself, a
society that cares about the environment and cares about people. My
thoughts were turning into one of those sermons that Ernie Rapley
described as pointing with pride.
Walking back to my house, I passed through the Plaza. My boots,
pants and sweat shirt were covered with mud. Some young guys called
out, “Hey, Padre, ya estas trabajando?” (Hey, Father, you been
working?) They were teasing me a little, but maybe they were also
pointing with a little pride. Who knows?
Canon Marvin Bowers is a retired clergyman and may be
reached at fr************@gm***.com.