Pastor takes ministry to the streets (and Collins Diner)

NORTH CANAAN — His rather unusual name sounds forbidding and, frankly, daunting. It’s a misleading introduction to the new, unassuming and instantly likable new pastor at the North Canaan Congregational Church in East Canaan.

Savage Frieze (named for ancestors of varied northern European descent) took the helm at the town’s oldest parish on Jan. 1. He and interim Pastor Rosemary Dawson, who served for a little more than three years, shared the pulpit that Sunday.

Frieze is settling in, having moved to Norfolk with his wife, Anne, and his daughter, Sara, from Seattle, Wash.

“My heart is here,” he said. “I grew up in Litchfield County. My grandparents had a home in Colebrook for many years. I always knew I would come back. I was specifically looking for a job here.”

Anne is a geriatric mental health specialist (also looking for work here) who also is trained as a minister, chaplain and social worker. Sara is 12, going on 13, plays in the school band, does well academically and has an avid interest in softball. Frieze coaches softball.

 Reaching out to people

Frieze agreed to meet for coffee at Collins Diner, where he hopes to establish himself as a regular, getting to know the people of North Canaan as they come to know and trust him.

This is not an unusual approach for Frieze. He has served in other churches. In fact his first job was a year here at Christ Church, his first job out of seminary.

In 1980, he headed west.

“I was a street minister with Operation Nightwatch, feeding, sheltering and counseling the homeless,” he said. “I spent my nights walking the streets of the original skid row in a clerical collar. I would sit on a barstool for hours drinking Coke and being available to people for whatever they needed.”

In his experience, it was a successful ministry, and a basis for how he has approached his work and life since.

“People had different needs and reasons why they were on the street. There are so many people who are marginalized by society, minorities, those with mental health issues. The gay and lesbian community seemed to appreciate my being there the most. They felt, and still are, alienated by the church to some degree.

“For some, it was difficult, but OK to be out there, and just helping them get through another day was all that was needed. Some made complete turn arounds. I remember a couple of teenage kids who had run away from their home because they were so abused. They were homeless and hungry but bound and determined to pull themselves up. All they needed was someone like me to show them where they could go for help.”

He has found that approach can apply to anyone. In a church, he sees himself as working with the members, helping them figure out what they believe and what they need from their faith. It is his first priority.

In the community, he hopes to be the person people reach out to. NCCC was the last Protestant church here with a full-time pastor. The position was cut to three quarters with the last interim, and remains at that. Frieze noted other churches have very limited pastoral time, or are in danger of closing.

“In this area, there are a lot of wonderful, really strong and independent people. And there’s always a lot of granite in the blood. They don’t readily seek help, but if and when they find the need to reach out, someone’s got to be there.”

Frieze’s resume includes being a chaplain in private schools in Westchester County, N.Y., and Wisconsin. In the years spent training in psychotherapy, he earned a living as an apartment manager, and found lots of opportunities to use the people connections as a “tent ministry.”

He comes here with an open mind, ready to listen and learn. But he does have a vision for the community that comes from what he has already seen and heard. Growing up here, he “learned how to work here” in places like Haight Vineyard, Ski Butternut and Doolittle Lake.

 From farm to (ball)field

Coming back, one of the things immediately apparent to him is the innovation of the farmers and the potential for an overarching embrace of sustainability.

“Growing our own food, raising our own meat and being able to buy it at local markets and for it to be served at local restaurants, and a ready supply of fresh herbs year ’round for avid cooks [such as himself.]” He has all sorts of ideas about how local producers can sell their products, and how it can be used to draw tourists.

He was thrilled to hear Canaan Union Station will soon be reopened, and include a railroad museum.

On a more personal note, Frieze is looking for a barn or other large building where he can help Sara practice softball in the off-season, and believes there is a big potential for such a place for other sports enthusiasts.

He has a strong interest in the interfaith movement.

In Seattle, there is a rabbi, a minister and an imam. No, that’s not the beginning of a joke, but a description of three men he befriended who have written two humorous and inspiring books on the importance of communication and breaking down mistrust among various faiths.

“They call themselves The Interfaith Amigos. They actually spoke in Great Barrington not long ago. That celebration of each religion and a better understanding of them is something I wish for the world.”