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| Appalachian beauty |
Way back on Independence Day, in my homily I emphasized two aspects of our republic that were manifestations of the truth revealed in Christian doctrine; one of them was the immeasurable value and impact of a single human life. The lofty example that day was none other than George Washington, the sine qua non of the American experiment, the unique and indispensable man.
That life is a historical reality I have long contemplated and admired, studied and discussed. Washington’s broad shoulders bear such scrutiny and his profile fits well into that frame. Suddenly this week I was caught off guard by a very different profile whose very familiarity disguised its significance, but nonetheless another demonstration of the marvel of incarnation.
After a few days of searching, I cannot find memory of a day or time when I did not know who Dolly Parton was. Her public life coincided almost exactly with my entire life up to this week when her death startled me and many with me. I am not quite sure how she crept into my consciousness; maybe radio playlists ranged more broadly in those days.
We weren’t country music people, my family or my friends, but we were in the footprint, and Hee Haw was near-weekly viewing. As a kid I knew Porter Wagoner, whose program first brought her national attention, but whose trajectory tended quickly downward as her star broke away and took off. Variety shows were a television staple then, as well, and the variety of entertainers featured was broad. Everything distinctive about her fixed her image in the minds of even people who didn’t pay much attention to her genre of music, often as a humorous character. Even among schoolkids, she was famous, she was funny, she livened up the punchline for any joke. Then she started doing movies, where she wasn’t only funny – she was good.
Only much more recently, having known so long who she was, did I find out what she was. A life-long faithful wife (sixty years) of a reticent man. An entrepreneur of near boundless energy and skill, turning Dollywood from a regional joke into a destination and example. Not only a conduit but an engine of development and enrichment for the people of her impoverished mountain home. She didn’t just make them proud, as was her stated goal; she made their lives better, too. And she did things for people; not only her people, but more people than we can identify or count. In everything, in the least likely place imaginable, a life of celebrity, she was a person of extraordinary generosity and grace.
Maybe fifteen years ago I heard Jolene playing and was startled by what an awesome song it was, and how deeply printed it was on my memory from four decades previously. Not merely a singer, but also an authentic and relentlessly productive songwriter, throughout her long career she gave us so much that was not merely admirable and enjoyable as music and entertainment, but also experiences that were recognizable and true. All of them drew us in to what they expressed without one nasty, vengeful, threatening, or even harsh word or sentiment. More extraordinary generosity and grace; this comes into focus only after the fact.
Obituaries mention her impoverished childhood, her large family and their Pentecostal church providing the foundation for her musical development. Not in anything I heard her say was she ever explicitly evangelical, and yet. Her disposition and her every action were clearly rooted in a familiarity with Christ, and a knowledge of His life, and from that an understanding of her own. There along with the rhinestones and big hair and slightly bawdy humor in which she mainly made fun of herself, she revealed a deep and developed conviction of what her life was for, and how precious to her was likewise your life, mine, and ours.
This reality, recognized or not, is the root of the sentiment now sweeping the nation: thank God for Dolly Parton. Her life and its impact are yet another example of universal and incarnate truth, as it is to be found only in America.
Monsignor Smith
