THE MASS APPEAL OF GAVIN MACLEOD [Su, 6-20-21]

 CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter

THE MASS APPEAL OF GAVIN MACLEOD   [Su, 6-20-21]

 

In our house, Gavin MacLeod wasn’t the captain of “The Love Boat.” He was the wistful Murray of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.” The news of his death on May 29 brought to mind a conversation I had with him in an alley in Sullivan, IL. Yes, it was in an alley, but no, it wasn’t a gang fight.

I’ve talked with some well-known people in my time—Marcus Borg, Dave Barry, Bob Hammel, Jim Smith, of The Jim Smith Society—but I think MacLeod is the only professional actor with whom I’ve ever had a real conversation.

He was in appearing in the two-man play, “Mass Appeal,” by Bill C. Davis, at the Little Theater in Sullivan, IL, named for its owner, Guy Little, and not for its size.

I was pastoring Wesley UMC in Charleston, IL, about thirty miles from Sullivan. [Twenty? Okay, I looked it up. 27.9 miles.] A pleasant evening’s drive.

That’s not why Maggie Hollowell took Helen and me to the play, though. She was one of my church members, and on the board of the theater. I suspect she thought I needed to learn from both characters in the play. If so, she was right.

The play was about an older, complacent, popular, go-along-to-get-along priest, who was assigned a newly ordained young whipper-snapper as an assistant, a young guy who thought priests, and their parishioners, should act like committed Jesus Christians instead of Rotarians with some religious language added on. Priests were to be moral leaders, not liturgical entertainers.

I guess there wasn’t much backstage area, because after the play was over, Maggie took us to the alley behind the theater to meet MacLeod. He was generally friendly and pleasant, very reminiscent of Mary Tyler Moore’s Murray. But when he learned that I was a clergy, he became quite interested and questioned me about whether he had played the role of the older priest convincingly, and in general about the play’s authenticity

Yes, it was authentic! At that point, I was almost to the age of that older priest, the role MacLeod played, but when I started, I was that young firebrand priest, mounting the barricades to protest the injustices of racism and war, Civil Rights and Viet Nam.

My first appointment after seminary was as campus minister at Indiana State University and Rose Polytechnic Institute [now Rose-Hulman University] in Terre Haute. The Wesley Foundation building was next door to Centenary Methodist Church. In the pattern of that day, since campus ministers were not trusted to go along to get along, the pastor of Centenary Church, Bob, was the Director [top guy] of The Wesley Foundation, and I was just the campus minister [low guy].

My very first day on the job, Bob called me in and said, almost word for word, “Let’s talk about the philosophy of campus ministry. I’ll go first. I believe in staying on top of things at all times to be sure nothing happens.” If anyone could do it…

I, of course, was the young priest in “Mass Appeal,” the one who wanted to be sure something happened, regardless of what it was.

The whole time Bob and I worked together, we did not work together. I’m sure it was as frustrating for him as it was for me. But by grace, I had a Bishop, Richard Raines, and a District Superintendent, Ralph Steele, who understood who Bob was and who I was trying to become. They patiently listened to me and waited for me to figure it out.

From them I learned that pastors can’t be only rabble-rousers. We are also leaders. You can’t lead if you are back behind the action, the way Bob wanted to be, but neither can you lead if you are so far out in front that folks cannot see you anymore. That’s true not just with preachers, but every leader.

I also learned to be patient with young people who challenged me when I became the old guy, for sometimes, as in “Mass Appeal,” young folks and old folks can learn from one another.

John Robert McFarland