Gomes, Peter J. Rev. Peter J. Gomes Is Dead at 68 - A Leading Voice Against Intolerance - NYTimes.com Page 1 of 4 The New York Times Reprints OFFICIAL SELECTION SUNDANCE This copy is for your personal, noncommercial use only. You can order presentation-ready copies for distribution to 2011 your colleagues, clients or customers here or use the "Reprints" tool that appears next to any article. Visit FILM FESTIVAL www.nytreprints.com for samples and additional information. Order a reprint of this article now. March 1, 2011 Rev. Peter J. Gomes Is Dead at 68; A Leading Voice Against Intolerance By ROBERT D. McFADDEN The Rev. Peter J. Gomes, a Harvard minister, theologian and author who announced that he was gay a generation ago and became one of America's most prominent spiritual voices against intolerance, died on Monday in Boston. He was 68. The cause was complications of a stroke, Harvard said. His death, which was first reported by The Harvard Crimson, was confirmed by Emily Lemiska, a spokeswoman at Massachusetts General Hospital, where Mr. Gomes had recently been treated. He lived in Cambridge and Plymouth, Mass. One can read into the Bible almost any interpretation of morality, Mr. Gomes liked to say after coming out, for its passages had been used to defend slavery and the liberation of slaves, to support racism, anti-Semitism and patriotism, to enshrine a dominance of men over women, and to condemn homosexuality as immoral. He was a thundering black Baptist preacher and for much of his life a conservative Republican celebrity who wrote books about the Pilgrims, published volumes of sermons and presided at weddings and funerals of the rich and famous. He gave the benediction at President Ronald Reagan's second inauguration and delivered the National Cathedral sermon at the inauguration of Reagan's successor, George Bush. At Harvard, Mr. Gomes was the Plummer professor of Christian morals at the School of Divinity and the Pusey minister of Memorial Church, a nondenominational center of Christian life on campus. For decades, he was among the first and the last to address undergraduates, greeting arriving freshmen with a sermon on hallowed traditions and advising graduating seniors about the world beyond the sheltering Harvard Yard. Then, in 1991, he appeared before an angry crowd of students, faculty members and administrators protesting homophobic articles in a conservative campus magazine whose distribution had led to a spate of harassment and slurs against gay men and lesbians on http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/02/us/02gomes.html?_r=1&src=twrhp&pagewanted=print 3/2/2011 Rev. Peter J. Gomes Is Dead at 68 - A Leading Voice Against Intolerance - NYTimes.com Page 2 of 4 campus. Mr. Gomes, putting his reputation and career on the line, announced that he was "a Christian who happens as well to be gay." When the cheers faded, there were expressions of surprise from the Establishment, and a few calls for his resignation, which were ignored. The announcement changed little in Mr. Gomes's private life; he had never married and said he was celibate by choice. But it was a turning point for him professionally. "I now have an unambiguous vocation - a mission - to address the religious causes and roots of homophobia," he told The Washington Post months later. "I will devote the rest of my life to addressing the 'religious case' against gays." He was true to his word. His sermons and lectures, always well attended, were packed in Cambridge and around the country as he embarked on a campaign to rebut literal and fundamentalist interpretations of the Bible. He also wrote extensively on intolerance. "Religious fundamentalism is dangerous because it cannot accept ambiguity and diversity and is therefore inherently intolerant," he declared in an Op-Ed article in The New York Times in 1992. "Such intolerance, in the name of virtue, is ruthless and uses political power to destroy what it cannot convert." In his 1996 best seller, "The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Mind and Heart," Mr. Gomes urged believers to grasp the spirit, not the letter, of scriptural passages that he said had been misused to defend racism, anti-Semitism and sexism, and to attack homosexuality and abortion. He offered interpretations that he said transcended the narrow context of modern prejudices. "The Bible alone is the most dangerous thing I can think of," he told The Los Angeles Times. "You need an ongoing context and a community of interpretation to keep the Bible current and to keep yourself honest. Forget the thought that the Bible is an absolute pronouncement." But Mr. Gomes also defended the Bible from critics on the left who called it corrupt because passages had been used to oppress people. "The Bible isn't a single book, it isn't a single historical or philosophical or theological treatise," he told The Seattle Gay News in 1996. "It has 66 books in it. It is a library." Peter John Gomes (rhymes with homes) was born in Boston on May 22, 1942, the only child of Peter Lobo and Orissa White Gomes. His father, born in the Cape Verde Islands off Africa's west coast, was a cranberry bog worker. His mother was a graduate of the New http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/02/us/02gomes.html?_r=1&src=twrhp&pagewanted=print 3/2/2011 Rev. Peter J. Gomes Is Dead at 68 - A Leading Voice Against Intolerance - NYTimes.com Page 3 of 4 England Conservatory of Music. Peter grew up in Plymouth with literature, piano lessons and expectations that he would become a minister. He was active in the Baptist Church and preached his first sermon at 12. He worked as a houseman to help pay for his education. After graduation from Plymouth High School in 1961, he attended Bates College in Lewiston, Me., a coeducational liberal arts institution founded by abolitionists in 1855. He majored in history and received a bachelor's degree in 1965; he then earned a bachelor of divinity degree at Harvard in 1968 and was ordained a Baptist minister. After two years teaching Western civilization at Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, he returned to Harvard in 1970 as assistant minister of Memorial Church. His first book, "History of the Pilgrim Society, 1820-1970," was published in 1971. "The Books of the Pilgrims," written with Lawrence D. Geller, appeared four years later. In 1974 he was named Plummer professor and Pusey minister. In clerical collar and vestments, Mr. Gomes was a figure of homiletic power in the pulpit, hammering out the cadences in a rich baritone that The New Yorker called a blend of James Earl Jones and John Houseman. In class, he was a New England patrician: the broad shoulders, the high forehead and spectacles that tilted up when he held his head high, the watch chain at the vest and a handkerchief fluffed at the breast pocket. Mr. Gomes spoke extensively in the United States and Britain. In 1979, Time magazine called him one of the nation's best preachers. While much of his later life was occupied by scholarly questions of the Bible and homosexuality, he came to abhor the label "gay minister," and pursued a much wider range of studies, on early American religions, Elizabethan Puritanism, church music and the African-American experience. He also continued to write. Besides volumes of sermons, his books included "The Good Life: Truths that Last in Times of Need" (2002), "Strength for the Journey: Biblical Wisdom for Daily Living" (2003) and "The Scandalous Gospel of Jesus: What's So Good About the Good News" (2007). In 2006, he became a Democrat and supported Deval Patrick, who was elected the first black governor of Massachusetts. Michael Roston contributed reporting. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/02/us/02gomes.html?_r=1&src=twrhp&pagewanted=print 3/2/2011 Page 1 of 10 NEWS OPINION MAGAZINE SPORTS ARTS MI ABOUT US ADVERTISING E-MAIL ALERTS RSS SUBSCRIBE CLASSIFIEDS Online Ministry Degrees Ministry Studies From Home. Earn A Degree. Request Free In Ministry Classes Online Become a Master of Divinity from an Accredited College. Lear Ivy League Admissions 5 tightly guarded secrets that can get you into the Ivies: Free F Rev. Peter J. Gomes, Minister in Memorial Church, Dies at Age 68 By JUSTIN C. WORLAND , CRIMSON STAFF WRITER Published: Tuesday, March 01, 2011 Like 1K 94 retweet 19 42 COMMENT EMAIL PRINT Reverend Peter J. Gomes, who oversaw Memorial Church for the past three and a half decades, died Monday evening after suffering a brain aneurysm and heart attack. He was 68. His death was announced in an e-mail to members of the Harvard-Radcliffe Christian Fellowship and confirmed by a staff member at the Harvard University Choir. Gomes was hospitalized at Massachusetts General Hospital this past December after suffering a stroke. He was later moved to Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital in Boston. Friends reported as recently as this January that Gomes was recovering and in good condition. They said that he hoped to return to Harvard and deliver the Easter sermon at Memorial Church. CRIMSON FILE PHOTO Reverend Peter J. Gomes, pictured at University President In 2009, Gomes received a pacemaker after Drew G. Faust's inauguration in 2007, died last night. stumbling as a result of dizziness during a speaking appearance at St. Lawrence University in New York. http://www.thecrimson.com/article/2011/3/1/harvard-peter-gomes-dies 3/1/2011 Page 2 of 10 By all accounts, Gomes-who was the Plummer Professor of Christian Morals at the Harvard Divinity School-maintained a tremendous presence at Harvard as well as around the country. He taught the popular course Religion 1513: "History of Harvard and Its Presidents" and pr delivered prayers at the inaugurations of Presidents George H.W. Bush and Ronald Reagan. "He's been a brilliant preacher and has carried the Memorial Church and the heart of the College for decades now," Memorial Church Associate Minister and longtime friend Dorothy A. Austin said of Gomes in January. se Gomes also served as an advocate for gay rights since he came out in 1991. He was a prolific author, writing New York Times bestsellers such as "The Good Book: Reading Privad the Bible with Mind and Heart" and "Sermons: The Book of Wisdom for Daily Living". He said that he planned to retire in 2012 after more than 40 years at Harvard. -Staff writer Justin C. Worland can be reached at jworland@college.harvard.edu. TAGS Religion, Breaking News, Harvard Divinity School, Memorial Church COMMENT Showing 43 comments Sort by Oldest first Subscribe by email Subscribe by RSS Calculator 17 hours ago This is the worst news I've heard all year. Professor Gomes was a true Harvard institution, a dashing gentleman and bastion of all that is Right and Good about tradition. His wit and witticisms, his voice and stature, and boundless kindness will be remembered by me and many others forever. maxice and 67 more liked this Like Reply Samuel Ross-Lee 17 hours ago Peter was my preaching professor when I attended Harvard Divinity School. He was also my friend. I am presently using his book, The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Mind and Heart in my Adult Bible Class. Thank you Peter. You were one of a kind, and you will be sorely missed by all who knew you, heard you, and were inspired by your presents. maxice and 11 more liked this Like Reply JB Lawton III '87 16 hours ago What a huge loss. An amazing speaker, thinker, and human being. ellid and 13 more liked this Like Reply Brittney Moraski '09 16 hours ago http://www.thecrimson.com/article/2011/3/1/harvard-peter-gomes-dies/ 3/1/2011 Dept. Saturas, Address The Preservation Legacy of Charles William Eliot given by The Reverend Peter J. Gomes Plummer Professor of Christian Morals and Pusey Minister in The Memorial Church Harvard University Cambridge, Massachusetts to The Friends of Acadia Northeast Harbor, Maine August Twenty-first . Two Thousand Seven Good evening. Although you might think so, and you're entitled to such a thought, I am not entirely a stranger among you but base my presence here on no less an authority than Samuel Eliot Morison, who next to God himself has probably written the most authoritative word having to do with this paradise, in his little book entitled The Story of Mount Desert Island. Morison indicates that the first sight of this land was made by one of my ancestors, Estevan Gomes, and so I precede all of the Eliots and the rest of you by centuries, and my knowledge of it is all due to Sam Eliot's impeccable scholarship, for which I remain eternally grateful. I've been here before; I came to speak at an anniversary of the Union Church some years ago, I watched generations roll into the fog in a re-enactment of the first going-to-services here, and I remember saying to Sam Eliot, "We shall all meet on the other side." He seemed reassured by that thought, and we did, as we raced around and met the others at the dock. Would that life would always be as simple as that! Then I came to bury my old friend Frank Peabody in that same church, and then to help celebrate the marvelous "un-birthday," as she called it, of Lois Eliot. So, I am not a stranger here. I have been here before and, by God's grace, I will come again. 2 As I saw you arriving singly, or in various groups, I noticed that the occasions where I see most of you tend to be much more formal and solemn than this, which has all the makings of a good Boston funeral, without the body. What a relief to see you on such a festive and happy occasion, although there is a memorial aspect to it às I have been asked to say a few words about Charles William Eliot. This I am happy to do, especially since the request came from Dan Pierce, whom I am happy to oblige in all matters, and he is why I am here. Ostensibly I know something about Charles William Eliot, for I teach a course on the history of Harvard and a large proportion of Harvard's history is dominated by Charles W. Eliot; I gave a lecture on President Eliot to which the Pierces came last year, and I remember asking them, "What could you possibly need or want to know any further about your famous ancestor?" Now, this gathering is crawling with Eliots, every other person here is an Eliot, and there is a great risk in trying to speak about so eminent and famous a person in the presence of so many of his descendants, as well as of so many others who would presume to know even more about the subject than they, or I, know. I take some consolation, however, because I gather that this is the third Founders' occasion. Words have been spoken about Mr. Dorr and Mr. Rockefeller, and now we speak about Mr. Eliot. I asked some people who it was who spoke about Mr. Dorr and who spoke about Mr. Rockefeller, and they couldn't remember, so I am perfectly prepared for the fate that awaits me - total anonymity within twenty minutes - but for those twenty minutes it is my happy task to say a word about one-third of the great trinity of founders of Acadia National Park, and that is Charles William Eliot. We all know that it is important to honor founders of worthwhile foundations and institutions, and to remember them not for their sakes but for our sakes, and not for the sake of the past but for the sake of the future) An occasion like this, luxurious as it appears to be, is not a luxury but a necessity; this is an important thing to do, to stand here and remember those who have shaped the space in which we live. George B. Dorr and John D. Rockefeller have had their celebrations and it is our turn to pay attention to Charles William Eliot, universally known as 'President' Eliot, I'm sure even by the two Mrs. Eliots. Remember, it was Ralph Waldo Emerson, a great Harvard graduate, who said that "institutions are but the length and shadow of a man;" and I think it is true, very much so, in the two institutions that were crafted in many ways by the fine hand of Charles William Eliot. One is this region in which we find ourselves today, and the other is Harvard University, in which I ordinarily find myself. Some of you, I suspect, may know something of Eliot at Harvard. You may think of him as a big House with a green dome, you may think of him as a series of rather unforgiving portraits hanging everywhere, and you - here in Northeast Harbor - may think of him as one part of a group of people that forced common sense upon an otherwise reluctant universe and persuaded people that it was in the public good to give up private ownership for a public trust that would be turned into this beautiful park. would bet, however, that not many Mount Desert people know much about the Harvard Eliot, and I can guarantee that few Harvard people know much about the Mount Desert Eliot. There are occasions when these two come together, and many of you represent the untidy confluence of these two institutions here today, and my job is to say a little bit about Mr. Eliot of Harvard and then to venture a view or two about Mr. Eliot here in Northeast Harbor. In 1985, I was stricken with an attack of appendicitis, which meant that I had to suffer many visitors to my bedside in Stillman Infirmary. I was in no position to tell people to go away or to be quiet, I had to appear grateful and as though I was listening to whatever they had to say as I lay flat on my back. One of my visitors was the dean of the graduate school of University Extension, Michael Shinagel, and he said, "The three hundred fiftieth anniversary of the University, as you know, is coming up, and you should teach a course on Harvard history." I was prepared to say anything to get him out of my room and send him on his way, for although he was on an errand of mercy I wanted him to share it with somebody else. So I asked, "What do you mean?" He replied, "No one knows anything about Harvard history and you know something about it; why don't you offer a course?" My first thought was to wonder who in his right mind would take a course on the history of Harvard at Harvard when he could be doing so many other things, and I was later surprised to discover that there are quite a few people prepared to take such a course, which they probably imagine to be a roaring gut in which they glide on the way to oblivion on a slide of sentimental factoids. I've done my best over the last decade to not fulfill that expectation; I've been excited by delving into Harvard history and sharing it with a large number of undergraduates over a long period of time, and it was in such a setting, I am convinced, that this evening had its birth. That is to say, I can't think of any other reason that Dan Pierce would call and ask me to come talk about Charles William Eliot in Northeast Harbor, Maine, because Dan sat in my class the day I lectured on President Eliot, and his impeccable breeding led him to feign that there was something I was saying that he hadn't heard before. I assume the rest of you will follow suit, and if what I am about to say is old news you will be so well-bred and mildly titillated that you'll applaud politely. There are characteristics of Charles William Eliot at Harvard that should be addressed, and I can address them with a certain degree of candor and authority as I will be leaving at nine o'clock in the morning and I'm not running for any office here. (The Eliots have no hold over me, nothing that I want for I have it all at the moment, and so I can say these things about your worthy ancestor.) Charles William Eliot would have been generally described by his contemporaries, I think, as both robust and interfering. He was robust in that there were no limits to his mental or physical energy, he was a man constantly on the go who did not trust idleness, and who expected great things of himself and of other people. This is where the interfering part came in, because if he thought you were not as robust as you ought to be, he took it as his job to try to make you SQ. He made himself singularly unpopular at Harvard even before he became president, when he served as regent to both President Walker and President Sparks, who were elderly genteel clergymen who presided with a benign presence over Harvard College and relied upon their robust eager beaver young regent, Charles William Eliot, to tell them what was going on, what was wrong, how many pencils were missing, how many fingers of ink each professor was using at any given point, who was late, and who was on time. Charles William Eliot was apparently perfectly cast for this particularly obnoxious role, and made many enemies who would come back to haunt him in years to come. He was a most effective regent, the sort of adjutant or deputy or lieutenant that any benevolent commanding officer would like to have, for if you want the reputation of being benevolent, kind, and good, you need someone to do the dirty work for you, and this was apparently a role for which Charles William Eliot was born, and he excelled in it. When Eliot was nominated as president some years later his nomination was not received with universal pleasure - I hope the Eliots understand that President Eliot was not received with acclamation - and there was a campaign, 'Anyone but Eliot,' running through the Overseers. The Corporation, however, three times sent his name up for the Overseers to vote on, and finally when the Corporation said, "We will continue to send his name forward until you do the right thing," they did it, and elected him president in 1869 at the tender age of thirty-five. Many who remembered his term as regent held their breaths, waiting to see what would happen now that this young fellow had power and authority. He had been offered, as an alternative to the Harvard job, the superintendency of the family mills on the Merrimack River, and it was said that he would be better at the management of spindles than he would ever be in the management of students, and that he chose the wrong job. Nevertheless, he began in 1869 with an inaugural address that took an hour and a half to deliver in the old First Parish Church, in which essentially he outlined a vision for greatness for the University and worked very hard to anticipate all the objections of those who had had considerable objections against him. He nailed them and went beyond, ending with an elegiac allusion to the rising new building on the athletic field that we now know as Memorial Hall. This did not reassure many people, especially those who didn't like him, who said, "That young fella has too many ideas and too much energy. You put those two together and it is a recipe for disaster." He lasted forty years, however, as president from 1869 to 1909. How do we explain that? Well, he outlasted most of his critics, and there is nothing like a good funeral to resolve debates. Someone once asked him, "Mr. Eliot, what is the worst thing that can happen to a president of Harvard College?" and he replied, "To walk through the Yard and encounter one of your permanent mistakes." He was aware of the awe that he inspired, together with the animosity, and at one point he said to somebody, "I have the distinct feeling that I am not well liked;" and he was on the money. He was respected, he was revered, and in the end feared and venerated, but early on he was not liked, largely because he wasn't likeable in many ways, for this robust and interfering character who was good for institutions was not entirely good for individuals. He was described as an intimidating listener, for when you went to speak with President Eliot it was clear that he already knew what you were going to say and knew what he was going to say to what you were going to say, and was too polite to interrupt the flow. You knew, however, the deal had been done and sealed. It is also said that when he presided in the Faculty Room from the President's chair and was restraining himself, which was often, his knuckles turned white clutching the edges of the chair, and I am told that the indentations of his knuckles can still be found on the farms of the President's chair. All of that notwithstanding, Eliot had an innate capacity for management long before anyone had ever had the spurious idea of inventing the Harvard Business School. Long before that he knew how to dispose of human passions, human beings, and human resources, and Harvard today is in some respects a tribute to that capacity. That capacity, however, was not limited to Harvard, for President Eliot had an opinion on practically everything, and never hesitated to share it. He was well regarded in literature, well-printed, and he wrote for everything including The Ladies Home Journal, Harper's, and The Atlantic Monthly; hardly a month passed by without an epistle from President Eliot on some subject from breast-feeding to the best way to control mosquitoes, and everything in between. Sooner or later all of that energy would be turned to this very spot in which we find ourselves. President Eliot was concerned for the well-being of the natural environment in the place he had discovered as an avid and effective sailor along the Maine coast, and like my ancestor, Estevan Gomes, he too discovered these rocky islands and the mainland, and on the inspiration of his son was persuaded to buy property here in which to summer. Eliot in Maine is a gripping saga. If you think about it, it is very hard to imagine a man less suited to the relative crudities of this rugged coastline; it is hard to sort out these two things and see them together, but somehow they appealed to President Eliot. I think that the austerity of the landscape appealed to him, for there is nothing false or artificial about this; it is rugged, natural, and it has a kind of dignity and grandeur that artifice could not improve. That appealed to Eliot's aesthetic, and sense of austerity, and also to what almost became a signature term to him, the "durable values of life," the things that last, that are not creatures of fashion, the things that do not come and go; and out of this aesthetic, out of this feeling for durable values came the principle of preservation with which you are so intimately familiar. It is difficult to think of President Eliot in repose. In theory he came to Maine in the summer to relax, but he never relaxed. There is a wonderful story told in Eliot family circles 5 that at one Sunday dinner while he was muttering grace his wife said, "Charles, we cannot hear you;" and he answered, "My dear, I am not speaking to you." Whether or not it is true, it's a wonderful story. If you've ever seen any photographs of him here with his family around him, you have seen that he was as upright and austere and engaged as he would be in the Faculty Room or the Chemistry laboratory in Cambridge. I think he was never off duty, and, as a result, all those powers and forces that concentrated in him were devoted to whatever subject caught his imagination, one of which was how best to preserve for the future the beauties and splendors of this particular corner of the universe. He had an artist's eye, although in many respects he was hardly artistic, and he recognized the vulnerability of these beautiful surroundings of mountains and waters to the noxious advance of modern society. Now, this raises one of the paradoxes of Eliot, because he was by no means a fuddy- duddy, somebody in awe of or interested in the past more than in the present or the future, for he understood that the key to the future here was somehow to preserve the best of the past so that each present generation, such as our own, could enjoy it in full possession, as it were, from the beginning. So, when he first came upon these delightful shores of Mount Desert it was not simply to escape the rigors of Cambridge nor to let go, let down, or let out steam; he turned all his energy to what could be done for the good here. Fortunately you have heard of his collaborators in that magnificent trinity, Mr. Dorr and Mr. Rockefeller, and now Mr. Eliot is joining them with his vision, his attention to detail, and his willingness to risk whatever it took for the well-being of the future. Those three men would have been formidable company with which to deal. any one of them had come to my door and I had seen him coming, I would have locked the door and hidden myself in the basement, because there would have been no way to resist whatever it was he wanted.) Apparently Mr. Dorr was a very hard-working, industrious, energetic man for the well-being of the Park, its first superintendent, I understand; and who could refuse an invitation to give money, from Mr. Rockefeller? It would be very hard to say, "Oh, I don't think I want to give to that cause, Mr. Rockefeller." Those two had immense strength of personality, and think of President Eliot's, whose very eye made people who were innocent of any crime confess on the spot. They were an incomparable trinity, and when they set their minds together to achieve some purpose it is no wonder that that purpose was achieved. I can think of no other three people in the history of the West who could have pulled that off, unless they were the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; short of that, they were perhaps the most unusual amalgam of talent, resources, and opportunity devoted to something of which we are all today at this very hour - the beneficiaries. Eliot never saw a challenge that he could resist. He always felt that there was the capacity to turn dross into gold, to turn something into the right thing, to take the ordinary and change it into the extraordinary. There was something of the alchemist about him. He was, as you know, by training a chemist. He loved dealing with the materials of chemistry, and Samuel Eliot Morison says in his book that there were some who thought there was gold on one of these islands out here, and that Mr. Eliot expressed an interest in purchasing the island as a summer home. The price went up through the ceiling because, it was said, "Aha, President Eliot must know that there is something out there, and therefore we won't sell it at the original price." So he didn't end up there but over here, and there was no gold anywhere. What would be the motivations for Charles William Eliot to devote all of his extra energy to what was going on here in Acadia? I think there are several, and I will illustrate them: 1 The motivation for preservation corresponded to his conviction that there were some things that lasted, that endured, that were worth keeping, those "durable values" of which he wrote and spoke over and over again. He was not a fashionista, he was not into the cúrrent moment. I think the notion of preservation stems from that 2 I think there was very much alive in President Eliot the notion of the public good, that if something is good everyone should benefit from it, not only the wealthy and privileged. I think that morally he looked down his aquiline nose at what went on at Newport among that gilded crowd down there, none of whom are represented here today. He saw here something of beauty that should be preserved for the public and not only for the privileged few, and it was this idea of the public good at work both at Harvard and here that I think has led to this singular creation in which we find ourselves 3 He had a very specific interest in the landscape, which in a reversal of nature the father inherited from the son, for he had a son, Charles Eliot, destined to be one of the first landscape architects in America, who died tragically as a young man. It fell to the father to write his biography, his memoirs. Many people say, and I think it's probably true, that what happened here in Acadia is in some regard the older man's testimony to the unfinished work of his much younger son. This is a monument to what Charles Eliot might have been able to do had he lived beyond his premature death. There is something very passionate about the father taking on the work of the son; it's supposed to be the other way around and it's tragic when it works this way, but it was this tragedy in Eliot's life that helped transform him and helped him transform this area. That is an important element One should remember that even though Eliot was concerned about the public good, he was a profoundly private man. Part of that solitary quality, many have suggested, was due to the fact that he was born with a port-wine stain on his face and that as a young man he had endured the humiliations and cruelties of children. It steeled him, and made him a self-sufficient person. It is why, for example, the exquisite sport for him was sculling, a solitary gentleman's sport, for, alone on the river, success depends upon what you and you alone can do, and he was famous as a solitary sculler on the Charles River. To him is credited the color crimson as Harvard's color, taken from the headscarves of the rowers, but that is a minor footnote. The more important thing is that crew was for him a gentleman's sport, and that the acme of crew was the solitary sculler. Think about that as part of the wonderful paradox of the solitary man who has a burning passion for the public, corporate, good. There are many qualities that as Eliot became older became more pronounced in his life, and I'm sure manifested themselves here in Maine, in Mount Desert, and in the creation of this park. He could never resist giving advice, always giving it and expecting to be consulted on myriad matters, and when he wasn't he inserted himself into the process. An old friend of mine, Professor Mason Hammond, known to some of you, was present at the College's celebration of Mr. Eliot's ninetieth birthday in 1924, and he said that he remembered Mr. Eliot standing without a hat on a cold blustery day in the Old Yard, in front of University Hall, addressing the multitudes. His formula for his talk was "Young men, if you wish to live and enjoy as long and happy a life as I have" - at ninety years + "there are two things you must do. You must marry early, and if you find you are doing something in a line of work that you don't like, change your life. Don't do something just because you've always done it, don't spend your life in the counting-house if you don't like it; find something that moves you." That is the advice - at ninety - of a passionate man, and we rarely think of President Eliot as a passionate man. We think of him as the epitome of cold 7 roast Boston, but beneath was an energy, a passion, and the testimony of that is a Harvard that was transformed and this realm that has been transformed. What were the essential qualities of the man? One was single-mindedness, for once he got an idea he never let it go - that intimidating listener, that solitary sculler, that man who gave enormous attention to detail, who was able to encompass large visions and take the necessary steps to achieve them. This is the man of whom Theodore Roosevelt said, "Thave never envied any man more than President Eliot." Theodore Roosevelt! That's extraordinary, and I didn't make it up, you can see it on the chart in the house. It's an amazing thing. We've spoken of his vision, of his seeing things that others couldn't see. Other people might see a collection of small farms, a vast untracked wilderness, waterways, undeveloped resources, where he saw an environment for the national and public good; and together with his colleagues he was able to persuade others not only to see such a thing, but to invest in such a thing, and to work to preserve such a thing. That is vision; that is imagination. Eliot saw Mount Desert and Acadia as more than a summer colony, just as he saw that Harvard was more than just a Boston, or even a New England, school for the idle rich. He was prepared to transform both, and each of us who shares in either of these institutions is the better for it. The other paradox inherent in this unique man is that he was a patrician democrat. His blood was as blue as it gets, his lips as thin as they come, you recognize in him the epitome of Anglo-Saxon New England, and yet there was flowing through him a great surge of quality, equity, democracy, and opportunity. He was not persuaded to let the land simply be the preserve of those who had the good fortune to be here. Eliot's view was, in paraphrase, that he had nothing to fear from the people as long as the people were properly educated and given the right resources and opportunity, and he considered it his job to educate them properly, to expose them to the opportunities available, and then to trust them to do the right thing. He was in that respect larger than life. If you look at the landscape of the first quarter of the twentieth century you will see that there are very few people who stand out in bold relief as being both representative of their time and transcending their time. Very few people do that; Charles William Eliot did. He stood head and shoulders above all of his contemporaries, and when the history of the first quarter of the twentieth century is written his name, like that of Abu ben Adim, leads all of the rest, not because of his own vainglory, not because of his own ego or his own press clippings, but because he caught and overcame the spirit of the age. That is a high achievement, and it is for that reason that Charles William Eliot is truly among the greats. It is not because he served as president of Harvard for forty years, that is nothing, for anyone can endure anything for forty years, and some of you have already endured something for forty years and don't deserve any great crown of righteousness for doing so. It was the quality of the time, and the transcending of the time, that makes Eliot interesting. When you walk down Quincy Street in Cambridge and pass the old Presidents' House at number seventeen, you will notice a set of handsome gates dedicated to Charles William Eliot, and on the southern pier there is an inscription that says: "He opened paths for our children's feet; something of him will remain a part of us forever." What a nice epitaph: "something of him will remain a part of us forever." Here we are, Eliots and the rest of us, singing the praises of a man now long dead, who most of us would not have dared to address if not spoken to first, if spoken to at all, somebody removed in style, in personality, and in interest from almost everything we know, and yet here today we gather to celebrate his name, not just because of him but because of what he stood for and continues to stand for in a rather tired and tawdry world. To quote the great epitaph given to Sir Christopher Wren in regard to St. Paul's Cathedral in London: "If you would seek his monument, look around you." This - this beautiful Acadia National Park - is the living memorial to the extraordinary, difficult, inspired, imaginative man, Charles William Eliot. Should we live into any of those characteristics of him we would be fortunate; to put them all together is to provide an occasion for great celebration and even greater thanksgiving, and presumably that is why we've all been summoned here tonight, that is why you have all been wise enough to accept the generous invitation, and that is why we have all become, for one reason or another or in one fashion or another, Friends of Acadia; and I hope that the Friends of Acadia will be smart enough and courageous enough to take full advantage of our friendship. God bless Charles William Eliot and all that he stood for. Peter J. Gomes Cambridge, Massachusetts words: 5,013 lines: 353