I reread Washington Irving’s folktale “Rip Van Winkle” after finding King’s interpretation in Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? In King’s interpretation the most important part of that story is that when Rip Van Winkle went up the mountain in Upstate New York, King George III was the leader, and when he fell asleep and woke up 20 years later, George Washington was the first president of the United States. So he slept through a revolution, which according to King was a precious opportunity to be alive that he missed out on.
Washington Irving’s inspiration for the story was the exact opposite of King’s. Irving was living in England, and was speaking with his brother-in-law who was an American expatriate who was reminiscing with nostalgia about what America was like before the revolution. Irving wrote Rip Van Winkle as a nostalgia piece, a wishful piece of literature for all the people who wished they had slept through the revolution, and missed out on war, death, and upheaval to their ordinary way of life. Irving saw in the aftermath of the revolution a new country being born that was energetic, vital, and obsessed with productivity. So he wrote about a listless fellow, Rip Van Winkle, a kind of lost soul in America who had no desire to do anything productive with his life. All he wants to do is sleep, go to the pub, smoke his pipe, play with his dog, and enjoy being in nature.
His wife Dame Van Winkle basically calls him good for nothing, because he’s unable to make a living, and he can’t support the family. Rip goes to great lengths to avoid responsibility, and this drive to avoid responsibility and do nothing leads him to being tempted by these apparitions, these ghosts who give him something to drink, and it’s the drink that puts him in a slumber for 20 years, causing him to miss the revolution. For me that is perhaps one of the most important parts of the story: that he took a drink from a ghost of the past, and this unwittingly put him in a slumber for 20 years. Rip Van Winkle, though criticized as lazy and irresponsible, never intended to sleep for 20 years and miss a large chunk of his life. It happened when he took a drink from a ghost, a presence that haunted the present, even though it really belonged in the past.
When Rip awakens 20 years later, his belongings have rusted and his beloved dog is gone. Irving thought many veterans wished they could have avoided combat, and instead spent the revolution somewhere else. When Rip goes back to his small upstate New York village along the Hudson River, it is unrecognizable. There are so many more houses, the population has tripled, and there are new names on all the buildings. Everyone gives him strange looks because in 20 years he has grown a long white beard, and looks out of step with the fashion and expectations of his day. My favorite part is when Rip goes to the pub, and seeing that he is an outsider, a group of people come up to him and demand to know who he voted for in the last election. He tells them in exasperation he has no idea what a vote is. They ask him pointedly which leader he gives his allegiance to, and to avoid further confrontation, Rip says in a loud voice for all to hear: Why King George III of course. I give my complete loyalty to him.” This upsets the crowd, and they shout: “He’s a loyalist!” But just in time someone recognizes who he is, and tells the rest of the crowd that this man belongs to another era, and has no idea what he’s talking about.
The story ends with Rip Van Winkle living in this strange new America, mostly keeping his mouth shut and doing nothing, just like he wanted. He’s watching the beginning of not just a new nation, but a new consciousness take shape around him: a new consciousness around personal rights as a citizen, a new consciousness about the government’s responsibility to its citizens and vice versa. He does nothing to participate directly in any of this, but instead takes his role as witness: in the same way he witnessed ghosts drinking in the hills, he now witnesses the energy of a new nation seeking to find itself without him.
Understandably I think many today have the same ambition as Rip Van Winkle: they don’t mean any harm or confrontation. They just want to enjoy their life, enjoy nature, time with their pets and loved ones, relax, and not have to worry themselves with political or social revolution. Many I think like Washington Irving have a secret wish they could sleep through all this misery and carnage, and wake up after it’s all over, and hopefully they can just resume their life in the way they once did. I think this is very understandable.
King referred to this way of life as a negative peace, which is seeking a life that is absent of tension. In “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” King writes: “First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Council-er or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can’t agree with your methods of direct action;” who paternalistically feels he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until a “more convenient season.”
Shallow understanding from people of goodwill is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.”
I tend to agree with King on this point. Our greatest impediment in the coming year I think will not be alt-right extremists who openly belong to hate groups. The greatest impediment I think will be people of good will who value a negative peace which is the absence of tension rather than a positive peace which is the presence of justice. I think the greatest impediment we need to watch out for is the understandable temptation to want to be comfortable, live with the illusion of less stress, and sleep our way through a revolution.
Unlike King though I think Washington Irving’s initial inspiration is real and must be included in our understanding. I think it is a very real thing to not want to be traumatized by violence, war, and social unrest. I think this is understandable, and our enjoyment of time with loved ones and with the earth can and should give us different viewpoints on the human cost of what is happening now. But I think the next step can be tricky. I think wishing we can get back to normal, to a life we knew before March 2020, is very much like taking a strange drink from a ghost of the past. It may feel right at the moment, but I don’t think we want to sleep for 20 years. We don’t want to sleep through our life. But I think a strong part of us may want to.
I think something that is obvious in the story of Rip Van Winkle is that we can think on the surface that our life will be easier if we can avoid work, responsibility, and participation in society. But actually it’s very stressful and discombobulating in the long run. It’s discombobulating to find yourself in a world where you longer have your bearings, and where you don’t know what’s going on. It can feel on the surface nice to get away from it all, and shut everything and everyone out. Short times of this may be helpful. But if we make a habit of this, we don’t just miss the parts we want to avoid, we miss so much more. Rip missed the opportunity to see his children grow up, he missed time being present with friends, he missed the opportunity to reconcile with his wife. Rip missed more than a political and social revolution, he missed his entire life.
And that is the main point of my message this morning. If we don’t have a community that supports our commitment to staying awake in our lives, we’re bound to miss our life. We may think we’re just trying to avoid the incessant tension of social and political revolution, but we are actually missing our entire life. They can’t be separated. You can’t be asleep to revolution without being asleep to the rest of your life. In warfare there is a medical term that usually applies to veterans called moral injury. Moral injury is when you do something that goes against your sense of morality, and then you are injured on a spiritual, psychological, and even physical level. Many have said this last year has been a year of collective trauma, but I would also say more specifically it has been a year of moral injury.
In another section of the book Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community?, King writes that it is a mistake to blame protesters for bringing about social unrest on our city streets. King wrote that protests don’t bring tension, they expose tension that has been there brewing for a very long time. He said instead of blaming the doctor who notifies you of a disease, we should be grateful that we clearly see we have a disease. Many of us were living as if we were healthy, and that our nation was healthy. What we are witnessing is the reality that we are sick as a nation, maybe more sick than people thought. It would be tempting to want to avoid this being true, but this won’t help us much in the long run. I think the question is how do we live in our illness, and how do we do what we can do to bring about potential healing, a new revolution of values.
At the end of the story Rip Van Winkle is a changed person, though his change is subtle and might be easily missed. The change is there is no more mention of him ever falling asleep again. He doesn’t go back up to the hill to try to take another drink even after he’s confronted with a world he doesn’t understand, a world that looks to him like chaos. He stays awake the rest of his life, and does his best to live the life he has been given in this new era he finds himself in.
I think many of us are like Rip Van Winkle who awoke from a slumber, and realized that the world is contrary to our expectations. But in this new era, there is opportunity for health and life, if we can stay awake to it. It won’t be easy. It will take everything we’ve got to not fall asleep, and settle for a negative peace which is the absence of tension. It will take everything we’ve got to keep alive the possibility of a real peace which is the presence of justice. I don’t think anybody can stay awake on their own. I know I can’t. Which is why I’m so grateful for all of you.
We need each other to stay awake to our lives. We need each other to not sleep through a revolution, but do our part to keep alive the possibility of health and well being. This is definitely possible in a community like this. We will be having our annual meeting immediately following service, and I want to take a moment to recognize the leadership that has kept us awake and nourished this past year. Andy Crabb will be ending his presidency after today, having served for six years. He was board president when I first came to this church, and I’m grateful for his calm, steady, and effective leadership during those years and especially this past year. He’s been a great president. This last year in many ways may have been one of the most challenging years this church has faced in 125 years. We would not have been able to stay awake to these changes and be so responsive without the superb leadership of our board who met regularly to navigate these changes with commitment, perseverance, and wisdom. I am grateful to Marguerite Felice and Diana Shaheen who are ending their term. And to all of you who have offered your talents and presence during this time – thank you. Staying awake thanks to all of you has been the answer to King’s question: Where do we go from here: Chaos or Community? I just noticed that the question that King asked is not Where are we now, but where do we go from here? Even if we find ourselves in momentary chaos, thanks to all of you, we are continually finding ways to go toward community, staying awake to the revolution that is happening right now.