Notes from my Knapsack 7-7-22
Jeff Gill
Preservation one step at a time
___
How can we preserve the best of our village?
That's the question of the year. This time next year, if you think the last six months have been dramatic, just you wait.
Purchase prices are already up some say around 40% for homes, and for undeveloped land to the west of Granville, depending on the where and the which way, it's beyond that.
New builds and parcels changing hands are what's top-of-mind for many, but I think if the question is about how we preserve something of value in our community and region, step one is to get to know it.
When the Intel project was announced, I drove out there and meandered a bit. I was curious that next day if I'd be part of a parade, but it was just me driving down Green Chapel and Miller and Jug Street. I'm told by nearby residents the looky-lous did increase, but not so much. Not as much as the bulldozers and backhoes did to start widening roads and demolishing already purchased houses, within weeks, months at most.
What I wanted to do, though, was see what was being lost, and to consider it. I observed at the time that in fact, for much of the land in question, you could see the giant warehouses and spec builds already going in along the expressway to the south. Much of the reaction I got from that was to say "yes, but that's as much as we thought would go in."
I'm curious as to how well we know what it is we're mourning the loss of here, closer to my own home, with a slight bit more cushion than they have west of Mink Street. Charing the Board of Zoning and Building Appeals, I have to note that it's still surprising to me how often a person brings in a request for a variance (our primary stock in trade along with conditional use permits), and when I ask "have you spoken to your neighbor about this?" the most common response is a baffled "uh, no…"
Of course, those are worse when the neighbor has come to object and is sitting right there. I not infrequently introduce them, and regularly try to defer our action until — wait for it — they've actually spoken to each other. Sometimes, and sometimes with a little third party assistance, a solution can be found to mutual satisfaction.
So while our days are still warm, and long, I have a request of all of my neighbors writ large: go take a walk. Stroll the sidewalks. Look around, at the trees, the surrounding hills, maybe even saying hello to passers-by. See what we've got.
What I think will work much better is if we get a very specific, even granular sense of what we want to keep, to hold onto, to not lose. A general sense of alarm is understandable, but not helpful. Some losses are inevitable: no tree is forever, and homes get remodeled, even as we're all aging and some moving on.
A goodly series of strolls might help us all get a clearer sense of what's at stake, and what we want to maintain. As I keep saying, freezing the whole place in amber isn't an option, and really never was.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he likes a good saunter and should take more of them. Describe your favorite walks at knapsack77@gmail.com or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Wednesday, June 22, 2022
Faith Works 7-1-22
Faith Works 7-1-22
Jeff Gill
Huzzah for the Fourth (or the Second)
___
John Adams, our second president, was perhaps the most openly religious of our early American politicians.
When it came to the anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, approved by the Continental Congress in no small part due to his efforts, Adams had strong feelings, often expressed.
It was actually on July 2, 1776 that the Continental Congress ended debate and approved the resolution initially proposed by Richard Henry Lee of Virginia on June 7 and seconded by Adams:
"Resolved: That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States, that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved."
In terms of parliamentary procedure, that's the motion on the floor. It was approved by the body, and the chair asked a committee of five members to draft a more formal declaration explaining this dramatic and drastic action. That's how we get the Declaration of Independence, largely written by Thomas Jefferson, with editorial assistance from Adams and Benjamin Franklin. Except the delegates as whole debated the draft, took out passages critical of the English people and of slavery, and then approved the revised Declaration on . . . July 4. Most didn't end up signing the official document until a month or more later.
It was the enabling action, though, the motion which created the authority to declare the United States as an independent nation, which Adams felt was the true cause for celebration, and indeed, for thanksgiving. And when the motion passed, later that day he wrote his wife Abigail, and said:
"The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America.—I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more."
John Adams, like his cousin Samuel, believed that God was in the movement towards independence. Baptist preachers like David Jones, a key figure in the pioneer settlement of Licking County, had been run out of pulpits and threatened by Loyalist mobs for saying God was engaged and interested in the American experiment towards self-government and honoring the rights of (ahem) man. (Saying "all men" had inalienable rights was a big step for 1776…)
In my own religious tradition, the Irish immigrant Alexander Campbell quickly picked up a definite reverence for the movement of the Holy Spirit as he saw it around the events of the 1770s on this continent, and in preaching during the 1810s & 1820s he always marked the Fourth of July, and when he founded Bethany College his practice until his death in 1866 was to hold over commencement ceremonies until . . . July 4 of each year.
Joseph Smith, Jr. who, in that same era was to establish the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, made much of the Fourth of July, and pointed to the events and the documents of the founding of this nation as having divine inspiration at work in them. We recently heard a witness at a Congressional hearing speak of this belief as a core principle of his faith, that the Constitution is in its own sense divinely inspired, looking back to Smith's prophetic statements.
Congregations and clergy today still wrestle with the proper relationship between church and state. For any church to simply casually celebrate nationalism is a step into deep and murky waters. Yet there are events, coming long after the Biblical witness, which seem to speak to us today about God's intentions, how divine design is at work in the world.
When John Adams says "solemnized" in his letter to Abigail, he doesn't mean being solemn. He's talking about the legal and civic act of firmly establishing and passing along traditions and understandings, just as we speak today of "solemnizing a marriage" in the ceremony. John wants us to have fireworks and "shews" and a good time to mark our deliverance in 1776 for every year forward.
At the same time, I think we all would benefit from some "Acts of Devotion to God Almighty" to reflect on how it all worked out, from John's day to our own.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he likes a good shew or an illumination as much as the next fellow. Tell him about your bells and bonfires at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Jeff Gill
Huzzah for the Fourth (or the Second)
___
John Adams, our second president, was perhaps the most openly religious of our early American politicians.
When it came to the anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, approved by the Continental Congress in no small part due to his efforts, Adams had strong feelings, often expressed.
It was actually on July 2, 1776 that the Continental Congress ended debate and approved the resolution initially proposed by Richard Henry Lee of Virginia on June 7 and seconded by Adams:
"Resolved: That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States, that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved."
In terms of parliamentary procedure, that's the motion on the floor. It was approved by the body, and the chair asked a committee of five members to draft a more formal declaration explaining this dramatic and drastic action. That's how we get the Declaration of Independence, largely written by Thomas Jefferson, with editorial assistance from Adams and Benjamin Franklin. Except the delegates as whole debated the draft, took out passages critical of the English people and of slavery, and then approved the revised Declaration on . . . July 4. Most didn't end up signing the official document until a month or more later.
It was the enabling action, though, the motion which created the authority to declare the United States as an independent nation, which Adams felt was the true cause for celebration, and indeed, for thanksgiving. And when the motion passed, later that day he wrote his wife Abigail, and said:
"The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America.—I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more."
John Adams, like his cousin Samuel, believed that God was in the movement towards independence. Baptist preachers like David Jones, a key figure in the pioneer settlement of Licking County, had been run out of pulpits and threatened by Loyalist mobs for saying God was engaged and interested in the American experiment towards self-government and honoring the rights of (ahem) man. (Saying "all men" had inalienable rights was a big step for 1776…)
In my own religious tradition, the Irish immigrant Alexander Campbell quickly picked up a definite reverence for the movement of the Holy Spirit as he saw it around the events of the 1770s on this continent, and in preaching during the 1810s & 1820s he always marked the Fourth of July, and when he founded Bethany College his practice until his death in 1866 was to hold over commencement ceremonies until . . . July 4 of each year.
Joseph Smith, Jr. who, in that same era was to establish the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, made much of the Fourth of July, and pointed to the events and the documents of the founding of this nation as having divine inspiration at work in them. We recently heard a witness at a Congressional hearing speak of this belief as a core principle of his faith, that the Constitution is in its own sense divinely inspired, looking back to Smith's prophetic statements.
Congregations and clergy today still wrestle with the proper relationship between church and state. For any church to simply casually celebrate nationalism is a step into deep and murky waters. Yet there are events, coming long after the Biblical witness, which seem to speak to us today about God's intentions, how divine design is at work in the world.
When John Adams says "solemnized" in his letter to Abigail, he doesn't mean being solemn. He's talking about the legal and civic act of firmly establishing and passing along traditions and understandings, just as we speak today of "solemnizing a marriage" in the ceremony. John wants us to have fireworks and "shews" and a good time to mark our deliverance in 1776 for every year forward.
At the same time, I think we all would benefit from some "Acts of Devotion to God Almighty" to reflect on how it all worked out, from John's day to our own.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he likes a good shew or an illumination as much as the next fellow. Tell him about your bells and bonfires at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Monday, June 20, 2022
Faith Works 6-24-22
Faith Works 6-24-22
Jeff Gill
Visiting a church on the way
___
July is peak vacation season, and we're hearing about new records of vehicles on the roads, reservations along the highways, and people waiting at airports for connections (and for cancellations, a different sermon indeed).
If you've been reading me for a long while, you've read variations on this before, but it's been a few years, and I think it's time to go there again: visit a worship service on vacation. You will gain much from the experience.
Some folks like to check with their minister to find out if a congregation of their tradition is located in the area they're visiting. That's an option. Going to the "same" church and seeing how different it is can teach us something about assumptions and expectations that really come home for us when we return, and see our familiar worship space in new ways.
What can really expand horizons is to let the Holy Spirit, or serendipity if you like, govern where and how you find a place to pause during a week or so away. Look for a sign or a reference in the brochures or any other nudge you might get, whether in a vacation community or just visiting family or friends on the road. Some place is likely to poke a steeple up in your field of vision, or post a sign right where you're looking for something else.
I've mentioned before the delightful experience we had in Deadwood, South Dakota, when a series of nudges led us to attend the church Seth Bullock helped build a century and a half ago (and if you don't know who Seth Bullock is, you don't know Deadwood). The priest of that Episcopal church couldn't have been more welcoming, and the congregants gave us some great hints about where we might go in the days we had left. They also noted that for as close as they were to the main tourist district, they didn't often get visitors from out of town like us. We talked about that after worship over coffee and cookies, and I think we all benefited from the conversation.
Plus, we had the experience of stopping to give thanks, to commune with believers, to share prayers and time in song and silence together. The sounds of the building, let alone the musical instruments, were different, the light in the windows and the feel of the seats, yet the Bible was familiar and the liturgy similar if different. I can only say: it felt right to be there, and it also made me value getting home, too, all at the same time.
Some people kick it up a notch, and intentionally attend a completely different kind of service than they normally do when they go on vacation. If they go to a traditional service, they visit a whole hog contemporary worship style church, just to remember what it's like; contrariwise, some (I think wise) contemporary preferring people go to a quiet, contemplative, liturgical service in their time away to keep the contrast in mind.
Either way, this can help you get off of the overly simplistic "right way/wrong way" model of thinking about worship styles. They are indeed different, and they each have a place; you might find your own feelings about them landing differently on your heart if you experience them in a different place.
But I would argue that however you do it, going to church on vacation is not about the question of not-not-going. We can debate the moral and theological merits of a weekly worship obligation at length, but I'm really talking about not missing out on the opportunity to attend a service where you don't know anyone, where your expectations and assumptions are set to one side, and when you are as truly choosing to attend as might be true any other day or week of the year.
It can be a transformative experience, in ways every service tries to be, but which you can help make possible for yourself and your family.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he may have a higher tolerance for feeling out of place than most. Tell him where you fit in at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Jeff Gill
Visiting a church on the way
___
July is peak vacation season, and we're hearing about new records of vehicles on the roads, reservations along the highways, and people waiting at airports for connections (and for cancellations, a different sermon indeed).
If you've been reading me for a long while, you've read variations on this before, but it's been a few years, and I think it's time to go there again: visit a worship service on vacation. You will gain much from the experience.
Some folks like to check with their minister to find out if a congregation of their tradition is located in the area they're visiting. That's an option. Going to the "same" church and seeing how different it is can teach us something about assumptions and expectations that really come home for us when we return, and see our familiar worship space in new ways.
What can really expand horizons is to let the Holy Spirit, or serendipity if you like, govern where and how you find a place to pause during a week or so away. Look for a sign or a reference in the brochures or any other nudge you might get, whether in a vacation community or just visiting family or friends on the road. Some place is likely to poke a steeple up in your field of vision, or post a sign right where you're looking for something else.
I've mentioned before the delightful experience we had in Deadwood, South Dakota, when a series of nudges led us to attend the church Seth Bullock helped build a century and a half ago (and if you don't know who Seth Bullock is, you don't know Deadwood). The priest of that Episcopal church couldn't have been more welcoming, and the congregants gave us some great hints about where we might go in the days we had left. They also noted that for as close as they were to the main tourist district, they didn't often get visitors from out of town like us. We talked about that after worship over coffee and cookies, and I think we all benefited from the conversation.
Plus, we had the experience of stopping to give thanks, to commune with believers, to share prayers and time in song and silence together. The sounds of the building, let alone the musical instruments, were different, the light in the windows and the feel of the seats, yet the Bible was familiar and the liturgy similar if different. I can only say: it felt right to be there, and it also made me value getting home, too, all at the same time.
Some people kick it up a notch, and intentionally attend a completely different kind of service than they normally do when they go on vacation. If they go to a traditional service, they visit a whole hog contemporary worship style church, just to remember what it's like; contrariwise, some (I think wise) contemporary preferring people go to a quiet, contemplative, liturgical service in their time away to keep the contrast in mind.
Either way, this can help you get off of the overly simplistic "right way/wrong way" model of thinking about worship styles. They are indeed different, and they each have a place; you might find your own feelings about them landing differently on your heart if you experience them in a different place.
But I would argue that however you do it, going to church on vacation is not about the question of not-not-going. We can debate the moral and theological merits of a weekly worship obligation at length, but I'm really talking about not missing out on the opportunity to attend a service where you don't know anyone, where your expectations and assumptions are set to one side, and when you are as truly choosing to attend as might be true any other day or week of the year.
It can be a transformative experience, in ways every service tries to be, but which you can help make possible for yourself and your family.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he may have a higher tolerance for feeling out of place than most. Tell him where you fit in at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
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