There is often a skeptic in the crowd. At the outset of Jesus' ministry, as he was gathering his disciples, some were not sure about him because he came from a little nowhere place called Nazareth. Nathanael gave voice to the question: "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Of course that question gets lost in the encounter that this skeptic has when he actually meets Jesus for himself. Jesus reveals that he has already paid attention to Nathanael as he sat beneath the fig tree. Nathanael turns from his skepticism to offer a profession of faith: "Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!" (Jn. 1:43-51).
The first book that I read in this new year was by Don Waldecker, "Growing Up in Rural Missouri." I'm a slow, ponderous reader, but these 98 pages with extra large type were read in an evening. I selected the book after seeing an article about it in my hometown newspaper, The Gasconade County Republican. Waldecker has written to chronicle his family's migration from Germany to Bay, Missouri in the 1830's and 1840's. Bay was also my childhood home.
What I found interesting was that most men and women found their spouses within a ten mile radius. Marriage between second cousins was permitted. Houses, like the one where Don and his sister grew up, were roughly 1,000 square feet. A large garden supplied produce for the year. Schools were one-room with all eight grades, but often there were some grades with no children in them. Books were scarce and were read numerous times. Teachers were not that much older than their students and did not have much formal education. It was a far different time. The world was close. The circle was tightly drawn.
Waldecker mentions how a favorite pastime was rehearsing the family relationships. "How are we related to the Obergs or the Gumpers or the Ridders?" And visiting, especially on Sunday afternoons, was what we did. Folks did not wait to be invited, but often checked about coming over for a visit as they left church on Sunday morning. "Will you be home this afternoon? We'd like to drop by for a visit?" That visit always included a mid afternoon lunch of coffeecake and coffee.
It was a different world. Can anything good come from Nazareth? Can anything good come from little villages like Bay? Waldecker's family encouraged him to get an education beyond the eighth grade. He ended up receiving an engineering degree from the Missouri School of Mines and Metallurgy at Rolla (now Missouri University of Science & Technology). He went far from those hills of home to work as an engineer in Owego, NY. But it is clear as he now approaches age 80, that the memories of his ancestors and the stories imparted in that close community shaped his life in profound ways.
So, my hope is that our communities--even our neighborhoods in the larger urban centers--might reclaim something of that same closeness. It seems to me that the local church right in your community is the setting where folks meet one another and practice friendliness. And, as they do that, often they have the experience of meeting Jesus there and discovering faith that abides for a lifetime. May it be so for us!
O God, restore in us and foster in us a desire for connection--not only to you but also to one another. Fill us with the awareness and appreciation for those places that may, at first, seem small and insignificant but are, in fact, sanctuaries where your love and life abide. Amen.
The first book that I read in this new year was by Don Waldecker, "Growing Up in Rural Missouri." I'm a slow, ponderous reader, but these 98 pages with extra large type were read in an evening. I selected the book after seeing an article about it in my hometown newspaper, The Gasconade County Republican. Waldecker has written to chronicle his family's migration from Germany to Bay, Missouri in the 1830's and 1840's. Bay was also my childhood home.
What I found interesting was that most men and women found their spouses within a ten mile radius. Marriage between second cousins was permitted. Houses, like the one where Don and his sister grew up, were roughly 1,000 square feet. A large garden supplied produce for the year. Schools were one-room with all eight grades, but often there were some grades with no children in them. Books were scarce and were read numerous times. Teachers were not that much older than their students and did not have much formal education. It was a far different time. The world was close. The circle was tightly drawn.
Waldecker mentions how a favorite pastime was rehearsing the family relationships. "How are we related to the Obergs or the Gumpers or the Ridders?" And visiting, especially on Sunday afternoons, was what we did. Folks did not wait to be invited, but often checked about coming over for a visit as they left church on Sunday morning. "Will you be home this afternoon? We'd like to drop by for a visit?" That visit always included a mid afternoon lunch of coffeecake and coffee.
It was a different world. Can anything good come from Nazareth? Can anything good come from little villages like Bay? Waldecker's family encouraged him to get an education beyond the eighth grade. He ended up receiving an engineering degree from the Missouri School of Mines and Metallurgy at Rolla (now Missouri University of Science & Technology). He went far from those hills of home to work as an engineer in Owego, NY. But it is clear as he now approaches age 80, that the memories of his ancestors and the stories imparted in that close community shaped his life in profound ways.
So, my hope is that our communities--even our neighborhoods in the larger urban centers--might reclaim something of that same closeness. It seems to me that the local church right in your community is the setting where folks meet one another and practice friendliness. And, as they do that, often they have the experience of meeting Jesus there and discovering faith that abides for a lifetime. May it be so for us!
O God, restore in us and foster in us a desire for connection--not only to you but also to one another. Fill us with the awareness and appreciation for those places that may, at first, seem small and insignificant but are, in fact, sanctuaries where your love and life abide. Amen.
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