FORT FRANCES, ON/CHICAGO REFLECTION: The chickens have come home to roost
April 19th, 2008
in:
CPTnet
19 April 2008
FORT FRANCES, ON REFLECTION: The chickens have come home to roost
[The following reflection by CPT Director Emeritus Gene Stoltzfus has been edited for length and clarity. People wishing to see the original piece will find it at http://www.gstoltzfus.blogspot.com/]
For twenty-five years, I lived in Chicago. Much of that time was in the African American community. For the last several years, I lived on the South Side about twenty blocks from Trinity United Church of Christ whose former pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright has been under fire for his sermon after 9/11. I experienced its welcoming style and was tempted to attend Trinity regularly because so much about its community fed my thirst for integrity of life, engaged social action, faith and hope that I wanted to bring to the work of Christian Peacemaker Teams. I never left the preaching of Jeremiah Wright without feeling energized for the week ahead.
On the morning of 9/11, my mind shuttled between the horror and tragedy of the moment and my understanding of the newly minted old world order that had brought the tragedy to us. On that day, the words uttered by Jeremiah Wright and frequently used in the English language going back to Chaucer’s “Parson’s Tales” (1390) also flashed in my mind: “the chickens have come home to roost”.
I remembered our chicken house on the farm. During the day, the chickens wandered through the yard, scratching the dirt, but every night they all returned to roost. Sick chickens, healthy chickens, young chickens, old chicken, good layers, poor layers - they all came back.
It occurred to me that morning, that had I used my seminary degree to become a pastor, I, too, might have been called to interpret with the eyes of faith the horrendous event of 9/11. I knew that the anger and frustration that culminated in 9/11 was an unavoidable sign for our times. Would I, like Wright, have had the courage to say to my congregation that the American chickens are coming home to roost and that the turbulence in the chicken house may not over?
On that morning of 9/11, I remembered how much I hated going to that scary chicken house as night began to close the doors and prevent predators from stealing and eating the chickens. Even today, I can feel my ghostly fear in that dark chicken house. A few times, I just avoided carrying out my childhood duty of closing the door only to be found out the next morning. But morning was too late because the unwelcome guest already had done his damage.
I thought I had left the frightening dank darkness of the chicken house behind long ago. But it keeps coming up. I realize that I live in it and have to figure out a way to make it safe.
19 April 2008
FORT FRANCES, ON REFLECTION: The chickens have come home to roost
[The following reflection by CPT Director Emeritus Gene Stoltzfus has been edited for length and clarity. People wishing to see the original piece will find it at http://www.gstoltzfus.blogspot.com/]
For twenty-five years, I lived in Chicago. Much of that time was in the African American community. For the last several years, I lived on the South Side about twenty blocks from Trinity United Church of Christ whose former pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright has been under fire for his sermon after 9/11. I experienced its welcoming style and was tempted to attend Trinity regularly because so much about its community fed my thirst for integrity of life, engaged social action, faith and hope that I wanted to bring to the work of Christian Peacemaker Teams. I never left the preaching of Jeremiah Wright without feeling energized for the week ahead.
On the morning of 9/11, my mind shuttled between the horror and tragedy of the moment and my understanding of the newly minted old world order that had brought the tragedy to us. On that day, the words uttered by Jeremiah Wright and frequently used in the English language going back to Chaucer’s “Parson’s Tales” (1390) also flashed in my mind: “the chickens have come home to roost”.
I remembered our chicken house on the farm. During the day, the chickens wandered through the yard, scratching the dirt, but every night they all returned to roost. Sick chickens, healthy chickens, young chickens, old chicken, good layers, poor layers - they all came back.
It occurred to me that morning, that had I used my seminary degree to become a pastor, I, too, might have been called to interpret with the eyes of faith the horrendous event of 9/11. I knew that the anger and frustration that culminated in 9/11 was an unavoidable sign for our times. Would I, like Wright, have had the courage to say to my congregation that the American chickens are coming home to roost and that the turbulence in the chicken house may not over?
On that morning of 9/11, I remembered how much I hated going to that scary chicken house as night began to close the doors and prevent predators from stealing and eating the chickens. Even today, I can feel my ghostly fear in that dark chicken house. A few times, I just avoided carrying out my childhood duty of closing the door only to be found out the next morning. But morning was too late because the unwelcome guest already had done his damage.
I thought I had left the frightening dank darkness of the chicken house behind long ago. But it keeps coming up. I realize that I live in it and have to figure out a way to make it safe.