Tolling of the Bells: This One's For You

A "Tolling of the Bells" ritual is not practised in every UU church but I value it in mine. We don't have an 1803 Paul Revere bell like the UU Church of Kennebunk (Maine) and I don't know which key is the tone of the bell. No matter. I volunteered to toll the bell this year to mark the passing of those we've lost, a ritual we practice at the start of every new year.

Standing near the top of the 100-year old bell tower, a few feet below the bell itself, alone, unable to hear what was happening below and waiting for the visual signal to start tolling, I felt a bit of the shivers. I wondered who all had been standing just where I was and why each had come to toll the bell and for who. Still mostly done by the men in our congregation, had women in earlier generations even been allowed to toll? I felt the privilege of the task I was about to perform.

The rope that reached from the bell all the way down to the bottom of the tower that is used for pealing the bell started to sway, the visual signal from the person below that the tolling should begin. I pulled to swing the clapper. I had forgotten how heavy the clapper was and struggled some to find the rhythm of pulling, releasing, pausing and tolling again.

Typically not a perfectionist by any means, I found myself wanting the tolling, my tolling, to be perfect. I knew no one would care if it wasn't; that tolling the bell is only noticeable to the point where someone might be compelled to comment on it when it is done badly, and even then it was likely to be noticed only by the minister. Still with all those generations before me in mind, it should be done with evenness and consistent pauses.

Just hours before I had heard of the passing of an elder, one of those people who seem to be lit from within that I had come to love and appreciate. Knowing the world will be a little less bright from now on, I marked her passing and tolled with my heart: this one's for you.