Mr. Rogers and the Practice of Thankfulness
When I was a child, I was the beneficiary of a stay-at-home mom. That was pretty normal in the late 1970s and 1980s. Watching her, I learned a lot about life. There was another person in my world though that I watched every day on the television who had significant influence on me. Every morning on PBS, Mr. Rogers would invite me to his neighborhood and as a scrawny little kid, his voice and his show always made me feel that everything was okay.
As I child, I loved Mr. Rogers. So, as I was flipping through my entertainment options this week and came across the 2019 biopic, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, I had to watch it. Tom Hanks plays the role of Mr. Rogers in a very good performance. I found myself emotional through much of the film, realizing that the film was unlocking childhood emotions and memories. Even now at 47, I can feel the extent of how deeply I did and still have a connection to the real Mr. Rodgers.
The film revolves around the writer Lloyd Vogel, played by Matthew Rhys. It is inspired by the 1998 article “Can You Say…Hero?” by Tom Junod and published by Esquire. At a pivotal moment in the movie, Vogel and Rogers are sitting together in a restaurant, when Mr. Rodgers asks Lloyd to take a moment of silence “to think about the ones who have loved us into being.” As the moment of silence begins, the other diners in the restaurant notice. Everyone pauses what they are doing or talking about, and with seriousness and thought in their faces, the restaurant becomes quiet. The movie literally transports you there. It’s powerful stuff.
The scene is derived from Mr. Rogers’ practice of this very thing. He famously did it at the 1997 Emmy Awards when he accepted the Lifetime Achievement Award. You can relive the moment at the following link: https://youtu.be/Upm9LnuCBUM?si=OgGDP7exRq0rdRkJ
Inspired, I’ve been doing the practice, and I surprise myself in that minute of reflection with all of the people that come to mind – family, childhood neighbors, my kindergarten teacher Mrs. Jones, my piano teacher Mrs. Shaw, certain college professors, members of this parish, people I have worked with, and people who have treated me with kindness.
One of the main themes in the movie revolves around Vogel’s cynicism and incredulousness about Mr. Rogers’ personality. He simply cannot believe that a human could share such kindness and love with everyone he met. Yet, in those moments in the film, the viewer learns that all of what Mr. Rogers does, the way he approaches life, the way he treats people, the way he makes choices, is all a practice. Kindness is a practice. Love is a practice. Hospitality is a practice. Respect is a practice. Compassion is a practice. Patience is a practice. Generosity is a practice. Prayer is a practice. Worship is a practice.
This Thanksgiving Amanda and I will have more than 20 guests around the table. Before the blessing, I’ve often come up with some little moment to engage everyone. One year, for example, I set out slips of paper and pencils and had people write the things that they were thankful. Ella collected them and read them aloud and then we prayed together. This year, I’m going to adopt a practice of Mr. Rogers. Before the blessing, I’ll ask everyone to stop for a minute, and think of the ones that have loved us into being. The way I see it, it’s just another way of saying thanks.
As I have engaged in the practice of thinking of the ones that have loved me into being, sifting through nearly five decades of memories, moments (good and bad), and faces, I’ve realized two things. First, the ones who love us into being continue to enter and exit our lives. There is no limitation to accepting that kind of love. Secondly, after thinking about the many people I’ve been blessed with in my life, in time, I found myself remembering the one who loved all of us into being. God.
It is God that loved us all into being. And in that great love, He redeemed us all.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
So, this thanksgiving, I invite you to stop and remember. Put down the phones. Turn off the television. Let yourself be surrounded by thoughts of love and thankfulness. As my guests and I come to the end of our moment of silence, I’ll conclude with the blessing my family sings almost every evening we gather around the table: O come Lord Jesus, be our guest, and let thy gifts to us be blessed, and may there be a goodly share, on every table everywhere. Amen.
Happy Thanksgiving.