Excerpt: The Shy Stone Wall

“Responsibility,” Frank said, “is not something to be given away easily. When we were given free will, we received an exceptional gift: the choice to do, or not to do; to speak, or stay silent; to rail against adversity or lay quietly while it overcomes. And we were given the gift of shaping our own lives and knowing that no matter where we were, that was because of ourselves. Because of what we’d chosen, and how we’d acted, and what we’d said. Our accomplishments are our own. And we should thank God for them, of course we should, because He gave us this gift, but we do not need to divorce ourselves from them and say they weren’t our fault. We can own them as surely as we own our failures, the days when we can’t seem to do anything right, when even our most careful well-intentioned actions lead us to misunderstanding with each other, and tragedy.

“Misunderstanding is a terrible tragedy. Being unable to communicate with each other, unable to tell just how good we feel when we’re embraced by our family, how lonely it is when we miss our friends. The joy of discovering something new and wonderful in the world. The terror of the fear of loss. These things move through our lives every day and if we keep them close and never tell, we’re losing the balm of community. If we try to tell and we’re misunderstood, it is like holding up your heart and your audience seeing only meat.

“But even in misunderstanding there is a certain nobility, and we must own up to that, and take responsibility for what we’ve said and done to give the impression we’ve given. And we must, we absolutely must take responsibility for the intentions we had no matter how they were received. We all know the way we passively relate to someone close to us the gossip we’ve heard from a different source, revelling in the sensation of being the first to break the news, good or bad. What are our intentions? Do we really want to keep our friend in the know, or are we just enjoying the power of knowledge, and reliving the tragedy we relate over and over? We should understand the words we say, the effect they have, and know why we’ve chosen that course. We need to own it.”

As always partway through a sermon, Frank became mired in his own words and their meaning to his ears. He looked over the parishioners — and the church seemed well full that morning, every face rapt — and hoped that they weren’t confused. He examined his words and tried to see his way through to his intentions.

“I speak to you of responsibility today because it is a universal value, and because I have felt it acutely since I’ve moved into your wonderful town. At first I thought I could fit into your community as if I’d always been here, but that wasn’t going to happen. It doesn’t work that way. There’s a pattern already in place here, and I have a place in it, but I can’t use force. I will fit, or not. This is something that is out of my hands. Not my responsibility. And it’s been hard to accept that.

“With the passing of Father Peter right on our mountain ridge I’ve had to realize that there is more going on here than a little valley town and a parish to own. There are thousands of individuals making choices every day, interacting, telling, misunderstanding sometimes, and experiencing tragedies in their own way, and successes and joys as well. There are parts of this tapestry I may never understand. And I can’t take responsibility for every person’s free will. That isn’t my place.

“What I must take responsibility for is the way that I lead you here in this room, in the things I say, and how they must come across. The lives into which I am invited, and the truths I might learn. And I want you all to know that I am willing and feel absolutely honoured to have the chance to be here and affect your lives in a way that I hope will be overwhelmingly for the good.

“And this is what I want to communicate today: That no one here is any different from me, that we all have our circles of friends and family and acquaintances, co-workers and grocery store clerks and gas station attendants and teachers and librarians and doctors, we have all these people with whom we interact, and we all must take responsibility for the way we shape their lives as well as our own. If we are glad for it, we can be glad with light hearts. If we are sorry, we are allowed to be sorry. Most of the time we will be forgiven. And when we are not, we can own that too. When you go out into your town, know that every moment of your life is created by you, a gift from God and the beginning of everything that is going to come next. We have this moment and these words and we can make of them a beautiful place and a strong, vibrant place, the green valley of legends. We can do that. I hope that we will.”

There was a quiet after Frank had finished. He busied himself shaking hands and smiling and thanking his parishioners for their attention and their thanks. He knew there was a tipping point in every mind and soul: where they could hear, or not. It would be all right either way. As the church emptied and his words went outside into the town in the minds of those who had heard him, he felt lighter in himself. He felt true to himself. Because he had tried, and had not laid down in the way of adversity, to crumble beneath it. And he hoped that no one else would, either.