I was going through my social media feeds this morning and realized that it was just a bunch of disconnected thoughts with no coherence. I wondered why I even bothered. Then I remembered posting about seeing a movie last weekend and the ensuing conversation on Micro.blog and I had my answer. There is value in bonding over a shared appreciation for certain media.
I’ve continued to be fascinated by The Shakers this week after viewing The Testament of Ann Lee. Not only have I been listening to the soundtrack (mostly because “Beautiful Treasures” gives me goosebumps), but I’ve been reading pieces about the movement and what is left of it. This article in Commonwealth Magazine, in particular, was interesting. It focuses on the two Shakers still left at Sabbathday Lake, in Maine.
On any given day, there are plenty of other people at the village. Staff and volunteers from nearby towns work at Sabbathday Lake: giving tours, overseeing gift shops, posting on Facebook, raking leaves, raising money, and tending the gardens. They help organize the Harvest Festival and Christmas bazaar. They teach soapmaking, bookbinding, and broomweaving, courses that generate revenue for the village. These workers are often also congregants. They attend Shaker meetings on Sunday mornings, then stick around for coffee hour. And yet, they are not Shakers. They don’t divest of their property. They don’t swear off sex. They don’t join.
The story is told mostly through the experiences of one of the Sabbathday Lake residents, a splenetic older man named Arnold. Unlike the sunny tour guides who lead visitors around the property, Arnold has plenty of complaints. His has been, and continues to be, a hard existence. If you have any romantic notion of Shaker life, his testimony will do much to dispel your fantasies.
