What We Remember
the trees which once stood
On my way home from teaching preschool music classes in the place my now-grown kids attended their toddler playgroups, I noticed a large tree-removal operation near their old playground. When they were small, this was the playground we chose, though it was a whole town and a car ride away. This playground wasn’t fancy. It had a tall metal slide which burned hot in the summer and a big open space at the top which was nightmare fuel for the mothers who could readily picture their preschoolers falling out and crashing onto the ground eight feet below. But the space was fenced in, next to a sweet library with bathroom access, and the whole thing was centered around a gorgeous leafy shade tree.
We met so many sweet kiddos there, had so many playdates, and we consumed quite a few munchkins there while I sipped my coffee with the other parents. The shade of the tree made it a perfect destination for a sunny day and the library next door provided the respite of both unlimited books and air conditioning. Those were sweet days.
A few years back, the town moved the footprint of the playground back about twenty feet on the grass, further away from the street, and installed new equipment. Gone was the tall metal slide and the monkey bars my then four-year old boy conquered just like Spider-Man would have. Gone were the bucket swings my bundled-up baby girl gleefully used in her first winter. Time had moved on and with it, their playground. This is the way of things. But the recent removal of the large tree, and the pain it caused in my spirit – that was something I did not see coming.
Parents who use the new playground today will not remember the old one, or its center leafy tree. The new playground has its own tree, though it’s much smaller and far less magical in comparison to the one we had that rivaled those in Pooh’s Hundred Acre Wood1. And they might say, “well, it’s still a playground and we still have a tree, and this is the one we know so why does it matter?”
But some will remember the way it once was. I will.
Today time is moving on and with it so many of the things we took for granted. In my past, I have experiences of a church which would’ve shuddered at the thought of aligning with political and worldly power for its own gain, or at least it would have preached from its pulpits a Kingdom that was not of this world, one in which we die to self in service to one another. That would have been our stated ideal then, I think. Yet today we have an open embrace of Christian nationalism, a muted response to the very real needs of the least of these among us, stark judgment of the ‘other’ as less-than, a tribal, clericalist faith that in many places has lost the smell of the sheep.
That wasn’t the faith I taught to my kids, but somewhere along the way the whole thing has shifted under our feet, and now even the central, essential parts are being disassembled in many places in such a way that many won’t even remember the way it used to be, the common values that most of us held.
In my history I have experience of a country that proclaimed values of honesty, hard work, service, and community. But somewhere along the line, the whole thing has shifted to embrace leaders who brazenly lie, who grift, who sell Bibles with their name on it, who grab for power at the expense of honesty, work, service and community. Many of its citizens, overwhelmed by mis- and disinformation brought to them from tech oligarchs, pledge loyalty to a person over what’s best for the country, even against their own self-interest. It’s still a government and still a country, some might say. We still have a tree and a swing set, and this is the one we know so why complain? Things change. Get over it.
The playground tree that offered shade and respite and community for so many of us is gone, methodically disassembled, and it grieved me to watch it because it was such a clear metaphor for what we are watching take place in our church and country today. We’re looking at grim, greedy, mocking, smirking counterfeits to the things which we know can be good, true, and holy even in their imperfection. And we know this is so because it was our experience. We remember.
It’s the shared ideals that we’re losing and have lost. We can no longer gather under the same tree with our families and call it our center. We’re far less open to sharing ourselves, our laughter, our stories, our worries and even our munchkins. (You get that this is a metaphor, right?) We’re more callous now. More protective of our stuff. The value we once placed on beauty, truth, goodness, self-sacrifice, or at least the pretense around how we professed these values is now called outdated, obsolete, a game for suckers and losers, not how the real world works. In this world among many professed Christians, even the teachings of Jesus are questioned as ‘too soft.' In our new metaphorical playground, what seems like truth or what people will readily believe is now what rules the day. The ground we thought was solid has shifted under our feet.
A few weeks back, I wrote about tent poles, the values and beliefs which straighten our spines, the things that drive us as we live out our one precious life. These will be important to identify, nurture and strengthen in these days to be sure, but so too are the memories of the common trees which once stood. The shared values we once held, the things we gathered around, the decency, joy and thriving they brought to us and to those around us.
Because there’s still a playground and there’s still a tree, that’s true, but the whole thing has shifted under our feet and to pretend it hasn’t is no way to live.
I remember the way it was. Do you?
Raised Catholic rewind:
Raised Catholic 181 - How It Used to Be - transcript and link to episode
Raised Catholic 133 - Digging in the Past to Build Something Better - transcript and link to episode
Things I’m watching/hearing/reading/recommending:
Song: By Our Love, by Christy Nockels
Bluesky social media app - find me there: kcampbellwrites.bsky.social
Movie: Surprised by Oxford
Book: Surprised by Joy, by C.S. Lewis
Find me: kerrycampbell.org - IG kerrycampbellwrites
Prayer:
O God we’re reaching forward in the hope that we will remember what is true, what is beautiful and what is good and to have the bravery to walk that out in the light with you. Protect those who are least among us and help us to remember that we belong to each other. For us and our dear ones, we pray in the name of Jesus and wrapped in the mantle of our Mother Mary, amen.
Thanks for the Bluesky recco Kerry - I hadn’t come across it.