Last night Jon-Paul and I watched the PBS special on the 50th anniversary of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. I admit that I shed a few nostalgic tears. It even taught me something new. Michael Keaton was one of the flying Zucchini brothers... who knew? Mister Rogers' Neighborhood first came on when I was six or seven months old. Some of my earliest memories were of watching Mr. Rogers while my mom made dinner.
I loved Mr. Rogers. I loved his music so much that mom bought his song book for me, before I could even read, so that we could sing his songs together. When I started piano lessons at 5, I did my best to plunk them out on our piano. I admit that I probably watched him for quite a while after my friends were "too old" and "too cool" for a children's show. But when I was watching Mr. Rogers I felt loved and accepted for who I was, which was a big thing for a shy little girl who was often bullied for being to smart.
Eventually, I gave into the peer pressure and stopped watching. Oddly enough, when my brother went off to college at Carnegie Mellon, he discovered that Mr. Rogers was a hero to the local University. When Mr. Rogers came on all other activity would stop and all of the students would go to the dorm lounge and watch it together, and not to make fun of it. There was something about Mr. Rogers that appealed to those future engineers and actors.
When I was a senior in High School, the year book team thought it would be funny to caption my senior candid "Yes, I do date Mr. Rogers." Of course, at the time I was mortified, but I have come to love that caption. Even though it was poking fun, it implied that there was something about me that would fit well with Mr. Rogers. That is really high praise to me now.
When I was in Seminary studying to be a minister, I actually got to meet Fred Rogers. My childhood pastor from Pittsburgh was being installed as pastor at First Presbyterian in Atlanta. Jon-Paul and I went to his service to discover that he and Fred Rogers were good friends from Pittsburgh Presbytery. Mr. Rogers came to do the children's time during the service. That was where I learned that he was an ordained Presbyterian minister. As we were going out George Wirth, the pastor, introduced us to Mr. or should I say Rev. Rogers. I don't remember what I stammered, because I was as star struck as meeting any movie star or Star Trek actor. I do remember him saying, "It is very nice to meet you, Karen." in his wonderful, gentle voice.
My first 16 years as a Presbyterian minister, I was an associate for youth and children's ministry. After my very first children's sermon Jon-Paul came up and asked me if I was purposely channeling Mr. Rogers. I wasn't. I was trying to be kind, and gentle. I was trying to show love, acceptance, and respect to the preschoolers sitting on the steps around me. So, I guess sub-consciously in trying to communicate how much these little ones were worth in God's eyes, I pulled from the best example I had from my childhood. To this day, Jon-Paul still refers to the tone I use when talking to preschoolers as my Mr. Rogers voice.
When Mr. Rogers passed away I cried. I didn't cry for him, for I knew he had a special place waiting in heaven. I cried for his family. I cried for future children who wouldn't grow up knowing this loving, special, adult friend. I am glad that most PBS stations still show reruns.
But as I am beginning my journey to start a Geek Worshiping Community, I find myself thinking of Mr. Rogers again. As an ordained Presbyterian minister if you are not in a church you are supposed to seek what they call a "Validated Ministry." Mr. Rogers Neighborhood was the validated ministry of Rev. Fred Rogers. Pittsburgh Presbytery saw it as an outreach to children. Although he didn't speak of church or denominations, he made sure that each child knew that they were greatly loved and priceless. He modeled the love of Jesus as well as any disciple.
So, as I seek to reach out to the Geek community I pray that I will have the love, compassion, sense of justice and equality, and acceptance that I learned from Mr. Rogers. He was a living sermon. It is a sermon that is sorely needed in our society today. I miss you, Mr. Rogers. May I spread even half the love and light that you radiated.
Instead of just signing off "Grace and Peace", I think there is only one way to end a blog about Mr. Rogers: with his own words.
It's such a good feeling
To know you're alive.
It's such a happy feeling;
You're growing inside.
And when you wake up ready to say:
I think I'll make a snappy new day.
It's such a good feeling,
A very good feeling.
The feeling you know, that I'll be back
When the day is new.
And I'll have more ideas for you.
And you'll have things you'll want to talk about.
I will too.
