Greetings from Pastor Chris....    

As many of you may remember, the month of October includes my favorite holiday of all–Halloween.  As I explained in this column last year, it is a holiday I think every Christian should celebrate as it is grounded in poking fun at the forces of fear and death.  With its spooky imagery as recreation, its message is the epitome of “fearing not.”

     But among this same spooky imagery is a figure very much connected to the history of Congregationalism in North America:  the witch.  Whenever we hear about the Puritans of New England, please understand that Congregationalism came from that movement.  In fact, even the very church that started the witchcraft crisis in Salem Village (now Danvers), Massachusetts was a Congregationalist (and then a UCC) church.  Almost everyone involved was a Congregationalist, as Congregationalism remained the established church of Massachusetts and much of New England throughout the colonial period.  In other words, the Salem Witchcraft Trials serve as one of the worst times in our own church history.

     Let’s allow that to sink in.  We’re talking about a time when “our” version of Christianity was the official religion, when ethnic strife was at a minimum, when diversity and equality were not part of our community practices, when those who were different were excluded from our social circles, when traditional values went unquestioned.

     And yet, this time is considered anything but great.  A social panic ignited in the Congregationalist parsonage when an enslaved foreign woman was blamed for grooming young people for the devil.  The entire community found itself in the grips of acting out of fear.  Scientific findings were received with suspicion.  Neighbors turned on each other.  Those with wealth took advantage of those with less, accusing them of witchcraft, and taking over their property.  Childless women and other outcasts were targeted for bullying, harassment, and violence.  Nineteen people were hanged.  One was crushed to death.  Five died while incarcerated.

     It should be obvious that these were terrible times.  And yet, these circumstances are the closest in our history to a time when one version of Christianity reigned supreme, when diversity was guarded against as a threat, and when fear ruled the relationships between neighbors.

     May we learn from our own history and seek truly to follow Jesus’ call to be that shining city on the hill–where we love our neighbors, the last are first, the poor are blessed, we fear not, strangers and foreigners are welcomed, outcasts share the table with us, and we see diversity as God’s gift of creation in God’s own image.  Those are the biblical Christian values to which we are called in every season and in every choice.

--Chris