Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "The only thing sacred is the integrity of our minds." He has a point, but that would not be my starting point. If we are beginning with the sacred, then we should begin with the integrity of our stories. Stories are what make us human. They are the basis of our civilization; they shape healthy communities. We tell stories; we listen to stories; we teach out of our stories. We find each other and ourselves through our stories. Life begins when our stories breathe. So let me begin speaking about the ministry of Phillips Exeter Academy with a story:

This summer a good friend of mine spent a few August days in the mountains of New Hampshire with another friend and his daughter, a precocious, articulate, fun-loving 4-year-old. They had just tucked the girl in for the night when a sudden summer storm moved overhead. The thunder and the lightning were charging in quickly, and then, Kaboom-the whole house cracked with a flash. They rushed back up to the girl's room, where they found her straddled on the windowsill with her face pressed up against the glass.

On weekends, the church hums with activity (top to bottom), including the Exeter Jewish Community's Shabbat observance on Friday night, when students like lower Nathaniel Weiss, uppers Aaron Epstein, Alexia Sadun and Alex Silverman can share a meal in the basement's kosher kitchen; guest speakers like Sister Choeying Kunsang and Tibetan monk Palden Gyatso; and Sunday morning music courtesy of the gospel choir, whose members include upper Christina Bute and lower Su-Anne Huang.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

"Oh, Daddy, I am so glad you're here," she said. "I think God is trying to take my picture."

I haven't met this little girl, but I love her. I want to meet her confidence, her open delight and her willingness to stand on the edge of her universe and take in the glory of the night.

The little girl that I love, that we love, straddles precariously on a windowsill. We, too, as her teachers, straddle our edges as we learn to lead and be led by our students. We want our students never to be humiliated, and yet we want them to live from their humility. We want our students not to fear being bested, and yet we want them to give their very best to all whom they meet. We want our students to know that they are strong and bright and independent, ready for their journeys, and yet we want them to trust that when they fall, it will be others' hands that will pick them up. We want this for our students, but we also want this for ourselves, especially when we are in the midst of our own teaching and leading.

How do we create this kind of energy and promise within our community? How do we encourage our students to love themselves, leading them to love others and to serve the world, rather than leading them to an arrogance that serves only themselves? How do we encourage our students to understand that the power of knowledge and goodness must rely on each other, and that without the other, these pursuits become either dangerous or weak? I believe these are the pressing questions that the ministry of the school has the privilege of exploring and developing and, with moments of grace, maybe at times even answering these questions. And yet, how do we begin?

The church's Front Street entrance (above) has been named in honor of former school minister Edward Gleason '51 by some of his deacons and students.

Phillips Exeter Academy begins with a newly renovated church. The Program Planning Committee of Phillips Church, under the leadership of Peter Greer, spent four years developing a vision statement for the ministry of the school. We discussed our ideas about the sacred over architectural plans, design contests, budgets, color schemes, sound systems and fire codes. In the midst of what felt like thousands of decisions, we kept coming back to our mantra: Would our decisions, in the words of Michelle Honig-Szwarc, the designer of the Tan Lane window, help "create a space that would become a sanctuary for all who enter it"?

Our committee asked this question over and over again, and it led us to three very important changes: (1) To create a large kitchen and dining area that would invite people to celebrate over food and drink; (2) To incorporate within a Christian building faith-neutral spaces that would make the church inviting to all; and (3) To link the spaces not only with an open stairwell and an elevator, but also with warm light and a clear sound system. We hoped that these decisions would help "engender the kind of harmony implicit in the Hebrew expression shalom bayit, peace in the home."

Two Days in the Life

And indeed, ideas that started out on paper are beginning to breathe within the walls of Phillips Church. Let me share two days in the life of this place:

Sunday morning, February 9 began with a Quaker meeting at 10 a.m. in the Wicks Room, upstairs. The Quakers were very excited by the new library adjacent to the Wicks Room, where they can now offer a Sunday school class for younger children. Meanwhile students and adults were arriving for the Protestant worship service that would begin at 11 a.m. in the nave. Chris Harper, a physics teacher who is also an ordained minister, was the preacher for the day and baptized his grandson Alexander during the service. The student gospel choir, Voices of Praise, under the direction of upper Anthony Riley, provided music for the service while Yoshi Yamamoto, also an upper, played the organ.