You might think I am obsessed with Mr. Rogers, and you’d be right. My obsession isn’t pathological but spiritual—something this secular world might consider pathological anyway.
My “Rogerian” focus is broad and deep, perhaps global. I think the late Fred Rogers is an icon for our time. An icon is an image through which we see the glory of God, aka divinity. It’s only a glimpse, but when you see it you recognize it. The early Christian bishop, Irenaeus of Lyons (130-202 CE), pictured below, best summarized such spirituality this way:
The Glory of God is the human person fully alive.
But this post isn’t about Irenaeus; it is about Fred McFeely Rogers (b.1928, Latrobe, PA.) who embodied Irenaeus’s theology:
-not because he happened to be an ordained Presbyterian minister who had attended Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, spoke Greek and Hebrew, and in time graduated magna cum laude with a specialty in musical composition from the University of Pittsburgh
-not because he was strictly religious or doctrinaire: You don’t have to speak overtly about religion in order to get a message across. He knew there were “terrifying ideas in all religions.”
-not because he loved children so much
-not because he became famous for his work in public television for children, won many awards and honorary degrees including the Presidential Medal of Freedom, awarded by President George W. Bush in 2002
-not because he took daily naps, stayed fit, maintaining his weight at 143 all his 74 years
-not because he never smoked or drank
-not because he was a registered Republican, which some folks think is godly these days
-not even because he was a vegetarian: I couldn’t eat anything that had had a mother, he'd say.
Rogers reflected the glory of God because he was a person fully alive—and imperfect:
-because he had a difficult childhood, spending many hours at home because of asthma
-because he had many stuffed animals who helped him make friends with himself
-because he learned to play the piano at age 5, and followed this passion to get a degree
-because his personality was introverted and shy
-because he was bullied in early school for being overweight, called Fat Freddy, and made to feel “very sad”
-because he was resilient and blossomed in high school to pursue his early passion for music, eventually marrying a fellow student Sara Joanne Byrd with whom he played dual pianos and who became the puppet Sara Saturday on Mr. Rogers’s Neighborhood
-because he would get perfectionistic about his show and cranky, as he did over the arrival of the educational television show for children called Sesame Street. It was competition and he didn’t like it, probably because it was too teacherish.
-because he struggled all his life with anger and self-hate
-because he hated television, yet when he discovered an old television at his parents’ home in 1951, he exclaimed: There must be some way to use this fabulous instrument to nurture those who would watch and listen.” This “aha!” moment shaped his career in public television.
-because he insisted on a private funeral in 2003 in a chapel in Latrobe for family and friends to have some protected time for their own grief. There was a public ceremony later at which violinist Yitzkak Rabin, cellist Yoyo Ma, and organist Alan Morrison played, for 2700 people who mourned this humble hero fully alive in their hearts
-because his mother knitted all his sweaters, including the famous red, front-zippered one he wore on his daily television show, Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. Tom Hanks, who played Mr. Rogers in the current movie, “It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,” had difficulty managing Rogers’s nightly entrance into his “neighborhood”—grabbing the red sweater, zipping it up, spit spat like that, removing his shoes, flipping one shoe into his free hand, then donning sneakers, ready to play with puppets and charm his young audience, nightly from 1968 to 2001.
-because he was an avid swimmer of laps, saying that this and the piano gave him a chance to feel capable and in charge. Swimming was his most important self-discipline.
-because as a boy Fred Rogers saw scary things in the news and never forgot the advice his mother gave him: Look for the helpers. you will always find people who are helping.
-because, despite his lifelong dedication to the psychological and moral well-being of children’s emotions about painful life challenges like divorce, sibling rivalry, death, Rogers ably directed his energy to adult politicians when he testified before the U.S. Senate Subcommittee on Communications on May 1, 1969. His testimony enchanted the Senators charged with eliminating government funding for public television for children. He closed his testimony singing a song he wrote for his own show: “What Do You Do With The Mad That You Feel?”
Guess who got the funding? And guess who left the hearing feeling fully alive—divinely so?
I think Rogers is an icon for this time, this 2020 year,
-because he listened attentively—present physically and emotionally to every single child, kneeling to be on their level,
-because he said over and over: “I like you just the way you are.”
-because he prayed— regularly and no matter what
-because journalist Tom Junod said of Rogers: “It was very hard to interview him because he just wanted to focus on me and who I was and my feelings.”
-because when asked what he thought Mr. Rogers wanted him to do, Junod said: “Oh, I think he wanted me to pray.”
* * * *
Tomorrow is the 34th anniversary of my marriage to Richard J. Simeone, brother priest, mentor, friend and companion-in-cranky. Above our sleeping bed hangs the wisdom of old Irenaeus.
The Glory of God is the human person fully alive.
I like you, Dick, just the way you are—whether asleep or awake. Some days I don’t love your every way, but I always like you just the way you are.
And to us all: Let’s try to be a little bit like Mr. Rogers in our own neighborhoods—every day.
