There are a number of small volunteer tasks I enjoy performing at church. From time to time one of the head ushers asks me to ring the church bell. The bell in our church tower made the long trip around the tip of South America in 1883-84, having been donated by a generous party in New England for the dedication of the new congregation’s building. It arrived in Bellingham Harbor the day before the dedication of the church and was hauled by hand up the muddy slope from the bay to its place in the tower. That bell is now in the tower at its third location in Bellingham and is still rung by pulling a rope. My favorite times of ringing the bell are when there are children in the congregation who participate in the ringing.

I can remember how much I loved being asked to ring the bell at our church camp. Over the span of 25 summers at camp, being asked to ring the bell never got old for me. We had a bell at our church, but it was silent for may years because a church remodeling project left the building without a bell tower for many years.

The bell was an important fixture in one of the small congregations we served in our first call out of seminary. The small congregation in a small town in Southwestern North Dakota had constructed a bell tower on the church grounds. Bell ringers had to go outside to sound the bell and it was a favorite target of Halloween pranks. Outsmarting and foiling the antics of revelers became a small challenge in our years of serving there. On the 75th anniversary of the congregation everyone in the community was invited to come and take a turn pulling the rope. A significant number of people who were not members of the church joined the congregation in celebrating. We had the good fortune of being invited back to hear the bell ring for the centennial of the congregation.

Bells occupy a special place in my memories. There have been a lot of bells. Four the four years we lived in Chicago we listened to the bells in the tower of Rockefeller Chapel on the University Campus ringing the quarter hour. Most of the time, the bells rang the Westminster Chime, but the tune was changed to the Cambridge Chime to honor the visit of some member of the British Royal Family. The change in the tune resulted in my waking in the night when the bells were rung. On Saturday afternoons in Chicago we got used to the repetitious sound of change ringers practicing the bells at another University Chapel. The practice attracted musicians and mathematicians who honored the ancient practice. Speed control of a tower bell is a precise art, achieved when each bell is mouth upwards and moving slowly near the balance point. Instead of ringing multiple times as in a swing chime, in change ringing the bell must strike once in each change in a precise sequence with the other bells.

Years later, we taught campers at our Music, Arts, Dance and Drama camps the art of change ringing using handbells which were also used to play conventional tunes. We had change ringing exercises for beginners who were responsible for one bell each and also for more advanced ringers who were responsible for two bells each.

One of the joys of retirement for me has been participating in the church handbell choir. Our choir is a joint effort of two congregations and on the Sundays when we ring, we are responsible for two services one at our congregation and another at the Methodist congregation that shares our building. I have had the joy of ringing solo pieces on the handbells for worship as well.

This past weekend when I heard bells, I was remembering other bells that I have heard. We stopped by the library in the afternoon to return books and pick up others. I waited in the call while Susan ran in to exchange books and noticed that the flag was flying at half-staff. It took me a short while to remember that across the nation flags were lowered in honor of the National Fallen Firefighters Memorial Service.

There is a solemn and powerful ceremony that is incorporated into funerals for fallen firefighters that includes the ringing of a fire bell. The congregation is moved to silence as the ceremony ends with a calling of the fire fighter’s name and the ringing of the watch bell. It has been my honor to officiate at funerals for fallen firefighters and a privilege to observe the care and precision with which fellow fire fighters carry out the ceremony. Whenever I remember those who have died, the memory of the bell ringing before a silenced congregation is part of what goes though my mind.

The community of firefighters extends to professional and volunteers who train and are deployed to respond to fires whenever they threaten communities. The bell in our church tower was the alarm bell for our community for many years. It called together volunteers who walked to help with recovery from the Great Vancouver Fire in June of 1886. Again in 1889, the bell rang to summon volunteers from Bellingham who traveled south by boat to help fight the fire that raged through that city. That was a summer of fires in Washington, with significant blazes destroying many buildings in Ellensburg and in Spokane the same year.

Bells Across America is a national program that asks churches and fire stations to ring their bells at noon on the Sunday of National Fallen Firefighters. Some communities also participate in Sound the Sirens in which fire stations sound their sirens at noon in honor of fallen companions.

The sound of bells carries layers upon layers of meaning and memory for me. In my imagination I hear not just the sound of a solitary bell, but a chorus of bells from the tiniest handbell to the largest and deepest tower bell each ringing as a reminder of the many who have sacrificed that our generation might inherit the communities in which we live. May we honor and join them by recommitting ourselves to serving our communities and investing in their futures.