If you think that one person or one small group can’t make much of an impact, you’d be wrong. For example, in 1955 the Old Mystic Methodist Episcopal Church hired the Rev. Simon Peter Montgomery, an experienced minister whose eloquent preaching style they admired. That simple act was viewed as historic and garnered national media attention.

The church was founded in 1826, and for the first few years of its existence, worship services were held variously in the village general store, private homes, the schoolhouse, and even in a livery stable. The first church building was erected in 1849 at the foot of Quoketaug Hill, but was destroyed by fire soon afterwards. In 1851, the current building, a small but lovely Greek Revival, was constructed on Main Street. In 2026, the church will celebrate its 200th anniversary.

As a child, I attended this church and remember the experience fondly. The congregation was tiny; it sometimes seemed as if there were more people in the choir than in the pews. At that time, Old Mystic had a lot of post-Depression poverty, so I imagine the congregation suffered lean times, relying principally on faith alone.

When a pastoral vacancy occurred in 1955, Simon Montgomery was one of the interim guest preachers. He was a young man from South Carolina who’d had several pastorates in the South. He held master of arts and theological degrees. He’d come North, settling in Norwich, where he taught at a trade school. The congregation liked him and offered him the position.

The fact that Montgomery was an African American and the first Black minister in an all-white Methodist church prompted a frenzy of attention. That seems both silly and very sad to me now, but this was the era of the Civil Rights Movement, just one year after the Supreme Court ruled segregation unconstitutional, so the subject of race was very much on the nation’s mind.

I remember the day when a television crew rolled cameras into the sanctuary to film one of Montgomery’s first services. My family didn’t even have a TV so this was an eye-popping event. The New York Times, Life and Ebony magazines all ran stories about it. (Recently reading an excerpt from Life’s coverage, I was startled to see a picture of my 12-year-old self looking back at me.)

Montgomery must have been a strong man to remain composed under all that scrutiny, but I hope he felt supported by the congregation’s affection and respect. Under his leadership, the church flourished, building renovations were completed and membership grew. One parishioner told Life, “It was the work of God that sent him here.”

Although never again on the national stage, the church (renamed the Old Mystic United Methodist Church in 1968) continues quietly doing good works through community outreach. Inclusion is one of its guiding principles.

When I was talking with OMUMC’s lay leader, she noted approvingly the recent decision by international United Methodist leadership to revise its policy toward the LGBTQ community by recognizing gay marriage within the church and the right to serve in the clergy. In the information she shared with me was a poem by Edwin Markham, which the bishop of New England had quoted as an expression of the church’s inclusive spirit:

“He drew a circle that shut me out,

Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.

But Love and I had the wit to win.

We drew a circle that took him in.”