LIVING IN A CRUCIBLE

I saw a performance of Arthur Miller's The Crucible this past week. It was a quite credible performance by a high school troupe. I hope none of the actors take offense at that. They worked hard and did a good job, but they are young people in their teens. They don't yet have the depth of experience to draw on. I recall reading about some great actor who declined to perform the title role in Shakespear's King Lear because he thought he didn't yet have enough life-experience to do the part justice. That's just the way things are. I have to say that as the play went on, the performance improved because the experience of the play itself added to the actor's emotional state just as it increasingly grabbed hold of the audience. If a performance can do that, it has accomplished something worthwhile.

A young friend of mine played the part of Rebecca Nurse. I confess when she first told me she had been cast in that role, I couldn't recall the character. What do you expect? It had been years since I saw a production. I dug out my copy of the play and discovered that Rebecca was an elderly woman who only appears in the first and fourth acts. The part of Rebecca at first seems peripheral to the plot, although she is mentioned in the two acts in which she doesn't appear on stage. But there are several persons mentioned who never appear at all, for example the doctor, judges Stoughton and Sewall, George Jacobs, Ruth Putnam. Even Martha Corey is only heard as a voice. So why is it necessary that Rebecca appears at all? Because Miller needed a character to demonstrate the demonic nature of the witch-hunt. He needed a person who was innocent and above reproach to be condemned and executed. No other character could do that.

The audience knows the protagonist, John Proctor, is no witch, but he is far from an innocent. He has been unfaithful to his wife. To what degree he was seduced by the girl Abigail Williams is purposely left ambiguous, but it cannot justify his illicit relationship with a minor who was a servant in his house. There is an irony in that the court will not believe that he is a lecher (which he is), but will believe he is a witch (which he is not). Although he dies for the wrong reason, if he were the only person to be hanged by the court, we might feel there was some little justice because he was guilty of something. So he cannot show us the full horror of witch trials

Elizabeth Proctor, John's wife, is an innocent. She has done nothing to deserve being condemned as a witch. Her only fault is her righteous anger at the scheming Abigail. But she can't illustrate the full horror because she doesn't die. She is found to be pregnant and can't be executed until she delivered. No, it takes a character like Rebecca to make the required point.

It's interesting how Miller establishes the character of Rebecca and suggests a plausible reason for the fury of the witch-hunt to be turned against her. When she enters, the Rev. Parris immediately asks her to go to his daughter, Betty. She stands gently over Betty, and the girl quiets. On the one side we see a woman of such virtue that her very presence is able to still a tormented spirit. But another interpretation is possible, hinted at by Mrs. Putnam's reaction: "What have you done?" Does Rebecca have some supernatural power? Isn't it possible that a person who has the ability to quell demonic forces can do so because she is the cause of them. There is a kind of sparing that takes place between Rebecca and Mrs. Putnam. The later thinks what troubles Betty and her own daughter Ruth is the result of witchcraft. Rebecca dismisses it as their "silly season." She takes to warn Parris against searching for "loose spirits." We see in her a woman of common sense and simple, godly devotion. Her solution to the troubles is to consult the doctor and pray. Her character is confirmed by the Rev. Hale who recognizes her as "a good soul" and remarks, "we have heard of your great charities in Beverly."

In this brief introduction to Rebecca we are also given abundant reasons why certain people would turn against her. Her husband has sold a piece of property that Thomas Putnam insists belongs to him. Rebecca has been blessed with eleven children and twenty-six grandchildren, while all but one of the Putnam's daughters have died. (Hence the eventual charge against her of murdering those children.) And she rebuked the Rev. Parris for frightening the children with his sermons.

Well, I haven't said anything that wouldn't be obvious to a high school student writing an essay on The Crucible, but Rebecca has another function in the play. In the final act her presence helps to steel Proctor against signing his false confession of witchcraft. Now it is clear the Miller portrays Rebecca as a true Martyr. When Proctor enquires of his wife if Rebecca has confessed to witchcraft, she replies, "Not Rebecca. She is one foot in Heaven now; naught may hurt her more." Proctor, contrasting himself with Rebecca states: "I am not saint. Let Rebecca go as a saint; for me it is fraud." But I think there is much more. Rebecca is portrayed like the martyrs in early Christian martyrdom literature.

Perhaps the best parallel to Rebecca is Perpetua as described in The Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas. Although Perpetua was a young mother only twenty-two, she already has a pious reputation. She is referred to as being "in a position of great dignity" meaning in her relationship to God. In prison she insists on caring for her infant son as Rebecca had cared for her own children and those of others in the community. In prison Perpetua brings about a reconciliation between the bishop Optatus and the presbyter Aspasius, as Rebecca tries to reconcile Proctor with the Rev. Parris. ("No, you cannot break charity with your minister, John. . . . Clasp his hand, make you peace.")

So far the comparison is quite superficial, but the general situation of Perpetua and Rebecca is quite similar. If Perpetua would lie and deny being a Christian, she would be free. If Rebecca would lie and confess to witchcraft, she would save her life. Neither will utter the falsehood. Perpetua's father works to persuade her otherwise to no avail just as Danforth tries to persuade Rebecca to confess. Perpetua tells the incident: "'Father,' said I, 'do you see, let us say, this vessel lying here to be a little pitcher, or something else?' And he said, 'I see it to be so.' And I replied to him, 'Can it be called by any other name than what it is?' And he said, 'No.' 'Neither can I call myself anything else than what I am, a Christian.'" And the exchange between Danforth and Rebecca: "I say, will you confess yourself, Goody Nurse?" "Why it is a lie, it is a lie; how may I damn myself? I cannot, I cannot."

So Perpetua and Rebecca die, refusing to lie or to turn against their faith. Of course the ultimate irony is that while both die as good Christians women, it is people who claim to be Christians who put Rebecca to death. Of course, the historical people of Salem salved their consciences by excommunicating Rebecca from the church before her execution so it couldn't be said that they murdered a fellow believer, but we know better.

Miller wrote his play as a parable directed against the McCarthy hearings which labeled dozens of innocent people communists. Fifty years later nothing has changed except the victims. There is a religious fury directed by some Christians against godless heathen, secular humanists, liberals, and enemies of family values. Except the target is often other Christians who just don't see issues the same way. Recently one of the prominent religious leaders dismissed a possible presidential candidate by saying "I, don't think he's a Christian." So, too, have I been damned by the self-appointed judges of "true Christianity." I believe there is a depth to the Holy Scripture beyond the literal words, and have been told I am not a Christian. I have criticized some of the excesses with which Palestinians have been treated by Israelis, and have been told I am not a Christian. I have defended some views of Roman Catholic believers, and have been told I am not a Christian. I have sided with a Quaker who opposes the war in Iraq, and have been told I am not a Christian. I have urged people suffering from mental illness to seek medical help, and have been told I am not a Christian.

I am a Christian who fears theocratic government. As was seen at Salem, it's too hard for fanatics of any stripe to distinguish between the will of God and their own twisted desires. As Dr. King observed, the church was strong when it was weak. When it acquired political power it lost its way. The persecuted became the persecutor.

No more witch-hunts. No more Christians making martyrs out of other Christians. The way is hard enough as it is without fellow travelers trying to do you in. On your travels keep in mind the martyrs who have gone on before, including Rebecca Nurse who refused to commit perjury even to save her life.

May the Lord God bless you on your way and greet you on your arrival.

Wayne