As I sat down in my office to write for this month’s newsletter, I noticed the time – and instead of writing, I paused. It was 2:58pm. About a minute later, I began to hum along to the chimes emerging from our church’s carillon: it was “The Old Rugged Cross,” George Bennard’s beloved devotional song. Amidst the crispness of an early autumn afternoon, Slatersville Congregational Church – and the Common, and the streets surrounding our house of worship – were all immersed in that beautiful Christian message.

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross, the emblem of suffering and shame;
and I love that old cross where the dearest and best, for a world of lost sinners was slain.
So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross, till my trophies at last I lie down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross, and exchange it someday for a crown.

Melodic and sentimental, carillons are multi-belled percussion instruments often housed in a church’s belltower or belfry: they’re tall, expensive, and often one of the the first things that a church will stop maintaining when money gets tight. Typically, carillons are also a point of debate with those who might live alongside a church – especially if those who live nearby don’t attend worship. But for a new or visiting pastor, a working carillon – one that is automated to chime on the hour, for instance – often acts as a testament to the congregation’s ability to continue to care for itself: to continue to maintain its history, its commitment to presence and engagement with the outside world, and (of course) its ability to share a musical, soul-stirring Christianity to which no preacher can compare.

Our church’s carillon was (per a board of dedication in Globe Hall) “given to the Glory of God and to the Slatersville Congregational Church” in October of 2004 by the Kenoian Family – by Harold, Lillian, Chuck, and Robin Kenoian with additional support from Kevin and Janet Hartman as well as Michael and Kristen Brissette. Of all those mentioned on dedication board, I have only had the pleasure of meeting Lillian – and what a spritely, engaging person she is to this day! The story of the carillon is an interesting one, and I highly advise that you reach out to Lillian to hear it – it’s hers to tell, after all. From my perspective, our carillon acts as evidence of the profound impact one person (or one family) can make in a community – an impact we all hear at the end of church service, not to mention the end of every hour. For twenty years, the Kenoian carillon has tickled the ears – and hearts, and minds – of our wider community.

Having spent many hours at the church (with many more to come), the carillon has become one of my many “Slatersville friends”: it greets me upon my entry to the church during the week, reminds me when we should be wrapping up service, and never fails to cause me to stop what I’m doing – putting down my hands, resting my fingers away from my laptop, closing whatever book from which I’m taking notes – so that I can listen and reflect. During this period of reflection, my mind wandered to the Kenoians and to Lillian – to members of our congregation, to contributors to the history of Slatersville, who are either no longer in our midst or no longer capable of being with us and yet continue to enrich and inform us. Our church acts as testament to these legacies. In Globe Hall, for instance, one can view a small plaque memorializing those members of our choir who have since passed: those whose voices we might still hear, whose contributions to our church are still felt through memory and history. Folks here don’t forget, and rightfully so: your history is beautiful.

And what delights me, as both a pastor and a churchgoer, is how firmly this congregation wields its own story as it moves forward: how often congregants speak about the church’s history when talking about its future, how willing the congregation is to reflect upon what it has been in determining what it will be. And during these times of delight, my mind turns to our carillon and its upcoming ‘birthday.’ Slatersville, is there any part of our history that you feel deserves more attention – any part of our history that you think we might gain from discussing, gain from reflecting upon? Let’s honor our history by keeping it alive, Slatersville, so that it might enrich the next generation of churchgoers. Joyous carillons, special pews, little plaques, big histories, sheafs of paper and historical Bibles: I urge you (yes, you) to reflect upon not just the past of this church, but how we might utilize the past to make the most of the future.

What part of your time here has been the most enriching, and who might deserve appreciation for having contributed to it? Has your family contributed to the legacy of this place – and if so, how might you hope to be memorialized? As we venture through this new season together, I urge you to reflect: what part of this church do you love…and how might we maintain those parts for who comes next? What will Slatersville ‘be’ for the next generation?

Let’s start to talk about it, friends. In the meantime, I’ll be basking in the music of the Kenoian carillon.

Pastor Sean Amato