Godspeed Charlie Baker. Thanks For Your Service.

“Whether it's the grind of the day to day, or a crisis, we all need to work together because that's what great public service is all about.”     --Massachusetts Governor Charlie Baker

Thanks, Charlie.

In less than a month, Governor Charlie Baker will step down and step away from public life after serving two full four-year terms as chief executive of the commonwealth of Massachusetts.  And I know for me, and perhaps for you, and I’d say for most Bay Staters: we will really miss Charlie.

For you see the Governor was that most rare of politicians. As far as I can tell, he was not in politics for the power, for the prestige, for his ego, or for financial gain.  He did not relish the campaign trail and often looked uncomfortable when forced to wade into partisan politics. Baker was not flighty, nor emotionally volatile, nor vitriolic in his words or his tweets, like one politician we’ve known all too well. Baker was not one to push to the front of the pack for the photo op and seemed ok with just being the tall guy in the back row.

So, again, thanks Charlie.

Baker was not perfect of course. What public servant is? I know I disagreed with him on several issues. I wish he had done a much better job on reforming and improving the “T.” Hoped he might have worked harder to prevent the COVID tragedy that unfolded at the Holyoke Soldiers Home.  I wish he’d pushed much harder to increase funding for state schools like my alma mater, UMass Amherst, so those places of higher learning might once again be affordable for more Massachusetts residents.

But who wants to elect a sycophant to office? One who does her or his best to appease and please as many people as possible, to be a “yes” man or woman, someone whose popularity matters the most to them? I know that’s not who I want in a public servant, whether a congressperson, a governor, or a local selectperson.

It was during the pandemic that Baker most powerfully shone through in his daily leadership. Day after day, for the better part of more than two years, Charlie stood up at a daily press conference, gave his fellow citizens updates and the latest news on efforts to battle COVID, and he always did so with calm, competence, and care.  We were incredibly blessed by his steering the ship of this state through a once every one-hundred-year public health emergency.

Truth be told, I think one of the big reasons Charlie looked so good in his soon to be finished eight years in office, is that he served in part, during the national administration of one of the most unpredictable, vindictive, partisan, and mean-spirited Presidents ever. Baker soars in status by comparison. Some might call him a policy wonk, one much more focused on getting things done and tackling problems in a serious and steady fashion, than preening for the cameras and to that I say, “Amen!”

And yes, at times, he was even a bit boring! I’ll take boring in my elected leaders! I’m just grateful for a leader, for any leader, who can lead the people with trust, hard work, and a sincere effort. Is that too much to ask out of those who govern us? I think not.  

Massachusetts will miss Baker’s steady stewardship of our beloved state and home.  During his time in office, I never once worried about him going off the deep end, or throwing a public hissy fit, or trying to steal an election.  He didn’t have time for that kind of political hackery and quackery. He just sought to do his job and to do it well.

All the best to you Charlie.

You can return home to Swampscott now and not worry about any protesters camping out in front of your home and disrupting your neighborhood. You’ll have a lot more time to spend with your loved ones and after all the work you’ve done, you deserve that. You won’t have to hold your nose or edit your words anymore when talking about your own political party. And even though many of us would love to see you seek higher office, you noted in a recent interview, “My wife is really looking forward to having me around a little more, so I don’t think I’ll be a candidate in 2024 for anything.”

Fair enough.  You did very well by the people you served in public service, and you left Massachusetts in good shape.  Governor-elect Maura Healey steps into an office with new challenges that no doubt will come down the pike, but I think it is safe to say that you will work with her on this transition and do so with class and bi-partisanship. You have made it clear in interviews that you are already rooting for her success. Not a surprise.

Thank you, Charlie. Job well done. Godspeed.

The Reverend John F. Hudson is Senior Pastor of the Pilgrim Church, United Church of Christ, in Sherborn, Massachusetts (pilgrimsherborn.org). He blogs at sherbornpastor.blogspot.com and is a resident scholar at the Collegeville Institute at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. For twenty-five years he was a columnist whose essays appeared in newspapers throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island. He has served churches in New England since 1989. For comments, please be in touch: pastorjohn@pilgrimsherborn.org.

 

                          

  

December Is Absolutely Here! Bring It On. Give Us Your Best.

“I prefer winter and fall when you feel the bone structure of the landscape – the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn’t show.” – Andrew Wyeth, artist

Some months of the year I actually look forward to with joy and anticipation. 

Like July, when summer really, really begins for me and much of the rest of the world in these parts. Days are hot and long, and school is out the Sox are in full red bloom.  Or April, which, granted, can tease spring and not quite be there and yet…. that first warm spring day? Windows wide open. Sweater banished to the attic. Bike retrieved from the ceiling hooks in the garage and tires pumped up for a first long ride.  

Some months I’m basically ‘meh” about. March? Make up your mind! Mud or snow? October? Okay, there’s the leaves but what else? May—yes, it is getting springier and springier every day but there’s also the pollen and the packed school and graduation calendar, so, so busy with so many end commitments. I may like May.

Or May-be not.   

But, one month really brings out my calendar confusion, and my monthly meshugana! (That’s Yiddish for CRAZY!) December, the month that just began, the month that in some ways is more jam packed than any other month of the year, with more to do and enjoy I suppose. Holidays and holy days to celebrate and gifts to buy and to give and a first snow to marvel at and then a big blowout party on the 31^st as we say goodbye to another 365-day trip around the sun.

How do you experience December? Like December, or perhaps not?

Me? December is mixed at best, this last month of the year. First there’s the darkness, the diminishing light day after day after day.  The sunlight that changes angle and seems to get grayer as the month proceeds. The big day for us, at least in terms of this banishment of light, comes on December 24^th this year, the shortest day of the year, actually one of six days in a row when daylight is rare, and the sun barely makes it up in the morning and seems to rush and hide away when the afternoon is barely over. 

On the day before Christmas in this part of the northern hemisphere, the sun will rise at 7:10 am and set at 4:19 pm, resulting in a day just nine hours and eight minutes long.  Compare that to June 17^th, 2023, when the sun will peak over the horizon at 5:06 am and not descend at dusk until 8:25 pm! This will make for a 15 hour and 19-minute day, a difference of 6 hours and eleven minutes. That’s like we get practically one bonus day in the 6^th month but barely one real long day come the 12^th month.

So yes, I’m not a fan of the lack of light come December.

Nor the weather.  Even with the climate changing, it still gets mighty chilly in these parts and today the winds are gusting to 25 mph with a temperature a little above freezing.  I knew the cold was coming but still, every year it seems to take me by surprise somehow. Like it sneaks up and taps me on the shoulder and then gives me a chilly salute. “I’M BACK!” 

The snow’s a completely different story—I love those first few storms that can show up in December, coating the trees and the lights in a white dusting, bringing a sacred “hush” to all the world, making a winter wonderland that is truly wondrous.   

Yup. December is kind of a mixed bag. 

If you work Christmas and the holidays for a living, as I have for 35 years, it is tempting to view this month as a gauntlet to be run, a marathon to be survived, or an onslaught of activity to be endured. If I am not careful and if I do not take a more balanced view of December, with all its revelries and traditions, all its religious and spiritual significance, and all its natural beauty, I can get all Scroogey. Bah humbuggy.

Yet, I still love the work and December sacred stories. I create and lead more religious services than at any other time of the year and the services I do are such a gift. Watching the children jockey for position as little costumed shepherds and angels and stars, in the church pageant. Wrapping gifts at a local charity with the middle school youth group and laughing all the way. Turning the last light off on Christmas Eve near midnight and looking at a quiet and empty sanctuary lit only by the electric candles in the windows. Peace on earth and good will to all. That night it actually seems possible. Maybe. Just maybe.

Peace.

I’ll never be a winter aficionado like my friends from Vermont. They bike with temperatures in the forties and will probably kayak until the ice floes threaten to Titanic them. They are the rare breed: folks whose favorite season is winter. In a recent survey of 1,000 Americans from all fifty states, only two states ranked winter as the most wonderful time of the year. Vermont and Alaska. Massachusetts loves summer the best.

So do I.

But if we are going to be in December, we might as well have a good time and enjoy the ride through the end of 2022.  Here’s to hot chocolate, and cheesy holiday movies. (“Love Actually” is my current favorite). Raise a glass of eggnog to…EGGNOG! Yup, I am one of those weirdos that loves this over the top, uber fattening, yellow gelatinous concoction.  Goes in my coffee every single day this month.

Bring it on December. Bring on some holy and silent nights. Raise in us all a spirit of gratitude for whenever we find ourselves in this world. Even this final month of the year. 

Come, December, come. I’m ready.

The Reverend John F. Hudson is Senior Pastor of the Pilgrim Church, United Church of Christ, in Sherborn, Massachusetts (pilgrimsherborn.org). He blogs at sherbornpastor.blogspot.com and is a resident scholar at the Collegeville Institute at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. For twenty-five years he was a columnist whose essays appeared in newspapers throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island. He has served churches in New England since 1989. For comments, please be in touch: pastorjohn@pilgrimsherborn.org.

 

Thanksgiving Thoughts on Gratitude: Where Do You Stand?

“There are always flowers for those who want to see them.” – Henri Matisse

Where are you standing today, in this week of thanksgiving? Are you in a place of gratitude for what you have in your life or are you in a place of grasping for more, of unfulfilled desire?

It’s all about perspective.

His name was Manley and for ten years he was one of my best friends, an important spiritual teacher. Almost every week for a decade we would meet over coffee, sometimes sitting in Adirondack chairs at the top of my long driveway or in the front yard of the comfortable house I call home, in a suburb of Boston.  Inevitably, every few weeks, this is how our conversation about God and life would go.

I’d complain about some thing going on in my life. A particularly difficult person or situation to deal with at work.  A family member I was having trouble forgiving. A bill out of the blue I hadn’t expected and now needed to pay. A new ache or a pain I’d discovered that week.

Manley would patiently listen, and then look around at the setting we were meeting within.  A big house with a nice car in the driveway, surrounded by the green grass and the soaring trees and the sun beaming down upon us, each of us healthy and well fed and overall, doing ok. Then Manley would say to me, half seriously, half mockingly.

“Yup…you got a hard life, John. Just look at this house and this yard. You have a safe place to call home and a job that takes good care of you and stuff like health insurance and enough food and lots of family and friends who love you.”

He’d wait a beat or two and then declare….

“Yes, you sure have it hard!”

And then he’d smile, and I’d grin too, maybe even chuckle and realize how right he was about my one life.  How by focusing on the few things in life that were a challenge, rather than the many things in life that were a blessing, I’d forgotten how to be grateful. Grateful to God for all the good gifts of life. Grateful for a job in which I got to make a difference for the good every single day. Grateful for his friendship and how much we each loved one another and taught each other. Grateful for sunlight and hot coffee and one more day as a gift from God.

Manley did not ignore the hard stuff of life, mine or his.  We both had lots of life baggage. We came from families that had gone through hard emotional times. We both faced into addictions and recovery, both had the ups and downs you expect from any human life. Gratitude doesn’t deny human suffering. Instead, gratitude acknowledges that all of us walk down into deep valleys, all of us hurt, and all of us lose people we love and yet, we can still make the courageous choice to look for the good. To see the good. To thank God or the universe for that good.

Manley’s wisdom about gratitude was always clear and simple.

Gratitude is often about the perspective, the attitude we adopt each day, each moment. Where are we standing, in a way, and what are we choosing to see in this life?  Do we see and give thanks for all that we have, all those precious things and beloved people? Or do we see and worry about what we do not have. What we lack. What is hard. What we have yet to realize or achieve.  

Gratitude intentionally chooses to focus upon the gracious. The beautiful. The kind. The hopeful. Places where our hearts are full and our lives are abundant and rich in the deepest way, beyond mere money or material goods. Gratitude revels in the simplest of gifts.  A beautiful sunrise or sunset. A big bear hug from a friend.  A thank you card from a grateful grandchild. A full plate on Thanksgiving. A slew of football games to watch from the couch. The yearly game of Thanksgiving Scrabble where everyone laughs so hard and plays, plays a game. For fun.

This is the second Thanksgiving I haven’t had my friend Manley around and that is sad, and I still miss him so. I could focus on that grief and would be excused for this but instead, today, I remember him with deep and profound gratitude.  I remember all the time we sat and talked about life and God.

And then I thank God in gratitude for Manley. For everything. From where I stand today, it is a very good life. I pray you might know this gratitude too.

Happy Thanksgiving Day. Every day.

The Reverend John F. Hudson is Senior Pastor of the Pilgrim Church, United Church of Christ, in Sherborn, Massachusetts (pilgrimsherborn.org). He blogs at sherbornpastor.blogspot.com and is a resident scholar at the Collegeville Institute at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. For twenty-five years he was a columnist whose essays appeared in newspapers throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island. He has served churches in New England since 1989. For comments, please be in touch: pastorjohn@pilgrimsherborn.org.