Notes from my Knapsack 9-22-22
Jeff Gill
Presidential groundbreaking presence
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Hello, President Biden, nice to have you in Licking County!
I'm not quite sure on this, but I know we had Abraham Lincoln give a speech on February 14th in 1860 on his way to inauguration, from a train car just south of downtown Newark.
Other than that, which other presidents have we had in the area? In terms of "while serving" he's on a short list. Presidents Obama and Trump certainly flew over — can't miss the distinctive look of Air Force One, let alone the fighter escort — but didn't visit on the ground.
Andrew Johnson came shortly after Lincoln's assassination, and others have told that story at length, but it was another whistle stop more than formal event with "boots on the ground."
Rutherford Hayes from nearby Delaware, Ohio came here for Grand Army of the Republic events as a veteran himself, and at a couple of those James Garfield was present, though well before his presidency.
And I keep running into stories that Andrew Jackson passed through on the old National Road, but I'm not so sure of that one, though it's fairly well received that Jacksontown got its name from supporters of Old Hickory, if not from his actual presence here. Henry Clay did visit Hebron, and that's also a longer story with a powerful punch, but he is simply "the man who was almost President."
Presidents or potentates aside, the big question is "why a groundbreaking?" Especially when the ground is broken, dug, plowed, moved, and transported back and forth between piles and pits already.
Okay, so it's a symbolic act, like saying grace after a meal. You can be thankful after you've already eaten everything, right?
There's a "saying grace" aspect to public and political events like this. We took the first shovelful months ago, but today we celebrate that we started and we're well on the way to finishing. Speeches are actually more common than shovels, even when a dozen or more are wielded by a line of people noticeably not possessing manual labor skills: you see them all trying to coordinate that first scoop . . . on three, two, one, shovel! (Cue cheers.)
Why the attempt to synchronize shovels in the first place? It's actually a fascinating piece of tradition and a kind of religious ritual. The ancient idea is that the wholeness of the soil, which when untouched for long periods does indeed need cutting, not just shoveling, is something to respect. To break the ground is to open up what is below, and who knows what might get out?
In Japan, I am told, groundbreaking ceremonies are still quite overtly religious, in terms of calming spirits that might be disturbed and asking for blessings from powers that may be awakened, to protect the builders and occupants of what is to be put on the site. A few prayers for the construction crews and coming employees might just still be in order.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he has prayed over a few construction sites, in fact. Tell him about the blessings you believe our community needs at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Sunday, September 11, 2022
Faith Works 9-16 & 9-23
Two columns in one email . . .
Faith Works 9-16-22
Jeff Gill
State funerals and sacred occasions
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Princess Diana's death in 1997 did not lead to a state funeral, although many remember it that way.
Princess Diana's death in 1997 did not lead to a state funeral, although many remember it that way.
The nuances of a royal ceremonial funeral versus a state funeral are probably beyond most of us, but it's worth noting that the United Kingdom actually hasn't had a true "state funeral" since 1965, when Winston Churchill died. The Queen Mother and Prince Philip also had royal ceremonies but not a state funeral per se.
What makes the key difference is, obviously, the involvement of the state itself, and in the case of the UK an act of Parliament. Queen Elizabeth II as ruler of the United Kingdom will certainly have a state funeral.
In the United States, we have a slightly looser set of guidelines for such things, but not that much looser. A state funeral is generally only for Presidents; the set of rituals around a state funeral largely were born around the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in 1865 and his extended memorials from lying in state under the Capitol rotunda to his burial in Springfield, Illinois.
General Douglas MacArthur was granted a state funeral in 1964, and other than former presidents, the last such was for Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg in 2020. State funerals were also held for the Unknown Soldiers now at rest in Arlington National Cemetery.
My earliest memories of national news are not of the death of John F. Kennedy, but I recall bits and pieces of his 1963 funeral: the riderless horse with reversed boots in the stirrups, John-John about my age stepping forward to salute his father's casket.
What I first recall actually as a funeral was the one I saw in black and white from across the globe as the Vatican laid to rest Pope John XXIII a few months later. The open casket, the incense, the music was all quite striking to a young child.
At the end of January, 1967, many of the same elements of memorial and honors were seen in the funerals for the astronauts of Apollo I, with two at Arlington and one at the West Point Cemetery. The riderless horse, the honor guards, the salutes all seen on TV were my first experience of what I had yet to experience in person.
When military honors are given to a veteran, we participate in small ways in the larger traditions of state funerals. The flag draping the casket, a three volley salute with "Taps" played, the honor guard and presentation of the flag to the next-of-kin: all of these rituals connect any cemetery in the world to Arlington and the nation's Capitol, including the traditional phrase as the flag is presented:
"On behalf of the President of the United States, the (name of service branch), and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service."
In any funeral today, family members will seek to make connections between their grief and the mourning rituals they've seen and shared before. The challenge for many of us in conducting memorials is that it is more and more common for people to have relatively little experience with previous funerals, and their expectations are more oriented towards public events — like the services for Princess Diana — than a traditional family funeral. Smaller families and people spreading out adds up to not a few people reaching their 30s or 40s never having attended a funeral, and suddenly they have to plan one.
Some religious traditions have a liturgy, a very specific process through which the readings and speakers and acts of the attendees is already laid out. Many liturgical traditions will minimize personal stories about the deceased, guiding those sorts of speeches to a wake the evening before, or a community meal afterwards.
But the majority of people working out a plan for a funeral are not calling on such traditions, even as they have few of their own. As a preacher from a less liturgical tradition, I have plenty of latitude to work with, but the breadth can be overwhelming for a family as they grieve.
When it can get complicated is where people ask "can we do this thing I saw on TV?" Pop music used to be almost unheard of in funerals even outside of churches, but since Elton John sang for Princess Diana's, it has become quite common.
Have you planned your funeral service? It probably won't be much like Queen Elizabeth's…
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; yes, he's got his funeral outline planned, how about you? Tell him what you want or don't want at knapsack77@gmail.com or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
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Faith Works 9-23-22
Jeff Gill
Thirty years of change & continuity
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Last week while so many were thinking about state funerals and distant royalty, I had to address the obvious theme for faith communities around memorial services here and the effects of what's going on "over there."
Last week while so many were thinking about state funerals and distant royalty, I had to address the obvious theme for faith communities around memorial services here and the effects of what's going on "over there."
My thoughts, though, were actually intending to stay closer to home, and meditating on the last thirty years: specifically since September 18, 1992.
The day before that I sat down with two other intrepid incorporators, and let me pause to note Karen Bunning & I would honor the memory of Marie Kerns who was regal in her own right, but no longer with us.
We three signed incorporation papers which Deb Tegtmeyer then hand carried to Columbus, where then Secretary of State Bob Taft made official on the 18th of September the still developing structure of the Licking County Coalition for Housing, now more often called simply "LCCH."
By Thanksgiving week we had three families in transitional housing and a budget made up of baling wire and bubble gum; thirty years later we're a little more stable but tied closely to HUD grants and state support for programs which all allow us to improve and enhance the stability of housing for people at risk for homelessness.
We weren't, and still aren't an emergency shelter organization; there are others doing that work, and we all have needs still, but the impetus of getting a transitional housing program going in 1990 & 1991 was that we just didn't have any place to house folks coming out of emergency shelter type housing. Data then and now shows that people are much less likely to return to emergency shelter if there's a solid transitional housing program for them to work through on their way back to independence and stability for their own living arrangements.
After a number of ideas and proposals that are amusing to recall today, a group of community leaders and agency staff members working with housing came up with a plan for transitional housing, a coalition of partners and participants who could come up with a number of locations, cover the staffing and the upkeep, and give people a chance to live securely after having been homeless. We found a landlord who would let our motley crew lease four units to sublet, so to speak, and thirty years later we own hatful and still lease others, assisting forty some families and over twice that many individuals to have a stable residence while they work out their transition to independence . . . hence, transitional housing.
Over the last few years, unsheltered homelessness has gotten more public attention, and even a little controversy around how we can best respond as a community to the needs of people who are unhoused. I've talked to some of the folks who are concerned about how our network of response works, and hope to have more to say on that subject soon, but those have been positive and fruitful conversations. Everyone agrees that homelessness is a problem, but when it comes to what people who are homeless should do, or how a city or county might respond, I've learned over the last thirty years there is lots of room for disagreement.
What I've also learned, in our area and in travels and communication with other locations that struggle with some of the same issues, is that there are well-tested means by which we can increase the rate of people NOT returning to emergency shelter. That's the primary goal. You might be surprised to learn I'm not a fan of the phrase "end homelessness" because the reality is that as generations come and go, and people mature and face challenges, at any given time any community is going to have people at risk of becoming homeless. Our goal has to be ensuring that people only go through that only once if at all possible, that almost anyone can end up in a jam and find themselves in a tough spot, but they don't have to keep ending up in the same place.
LCCH has been most successful, I believe, in helping those who come to us for assistance get to where they can not only help themselves, but they also find themselves wanting to help others. The most interesting part of being connected to an organization that's now been helping people for three decades is how often I have someone pull me aside to say quietly "LCCH helped me when I was without a home, and that made all the difference." And they're often volunteers today in helping others.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's not sure he really intended to admit he's been around for over thirty years, but there you are. Tell him what you think would make a difference in our communities at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
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