I’m not sure why this story affected me so deeply. Maybe it’s because examples of de-
The story is about a crazy man named Nightlife who’s stolen off with Ptolemy “Tol” Proudfoot’s very capable shotgun named Fetcher. Nightlife is too dangerous to ignore and too deep into his own world to hear Tol’s direction. So instead of a quick disarming, Tol gathers together a hodgepodge crew of his fellow farmers, which simply follows Nightlife around, through fields, woods, streams, and even to one neighbor couple’s dinner table.
“Watch with me” is a story about the best kind of community, and it’s a story about the gospel. Elsewhere, Berry has stated that “Christ seems to have come to carry religion out of the temples into the fields and sheep pastures, onto the roadsides and the banks of rivers, into the houses of sinners and publicans, into the town and the wilderness, toward the membership of all that is here.” (Jayber Crow, p. 321). In “Watch with me”—perhaps more so than in any other story—Berry shows what this gospel looks like along the very fields, pastures, roadsides, and river banks of little Port William, Kentucky. A caution: this story is slow. At 90 pages, there’s little page-turning action, and the deliberate, meandering pace is an offense to the modern reader. I encourage readers to receive the offense head-on, for Tol’s acceptance of inefficiency is what makes the story work.
To repeat my recurring theme, if you are hungry for wisdom that offers both critique and rudimentary answers to our modern crises, read Wendell Berry already. But if you are a minister, police office, a special educator, or anyone who is asked for help in a time of crisis, pay special attention to “Watch with me”. I hope it expands your view of who is your neighbor, and allows you to see the biggest nuisances with the deepest respect.
