Notes from my Knapsack 7-21-22
Jeff Gill
The village may change, not the well
___
On a blue sky summer's day, I went in search of a place on the map.
Towards each summer's end, I have a personal tradition, a birthday gift to myself, where I spend a day or two afoot exploring the world nearby.
Some years back, I set myself a goal of catching the view from all of the significant high points surrounding the Newark Earthworks, so locations in Newark and Heath but also some points you might miss in the subtleties of our local landscape, in townships from Granville to Union and Licking. I got permissions and tried to stay on public or permitted land though I may have sidled up close to some trespassing, but never on purpose.
A few I had to return to late in the fall to see more clearly without leaves on the trees, but I bagged them all, just to put the viewscape clearly in my mind.
After that, I started to wade the rivers. Now this is where, as I've said before, I am not clear about how Ohio's trespassing laws work in public watercourses. I've gotten contradictory opinions from various knowledgable persons, and in general, I don't write a great deal about my creek walking in part because it's not the safest thing to be doing, especially on your own. I let family know when I'm going, where I'm traversing, and what time I expect to return, and they haven't lost me yet.
If I'm wading up or downstream, and a pool behind some obstruction creates a deep spot, and I clamber up the bank to work around it: am I trespassing? Odds are good that I may be. Again, I try not to.
My goal is to get a view of Licking County from the very bottom. We all know that keeping in our car, at a mile a minute, behind glass and air conditioning, up on the berm and the paved paths, is a terrible way to experience countryside. You get to know the roadkill, and spot only the most obvious trees, and plants only when they flower, if those. Otherwise you don't just miss the trees for the forest passing, you get it as a green blur.
Walking, carefully, along the rocky or mucky bottoms of creeks, which are mostly exposed in later August, you have to slow down. You can't even trot. And when you stop, as you must, you see the ribbon of sky overhead, the banks are actually above you, and the moving parade of water between your feet are all so much more immediate.
In the last decade, I've creek walked most of Raccoon Creek, up from Newark through Granville and past Alexandria, patchy through and around to the south of Johnstown, but only recently started working up past Green Hill Cemetery and Clover Valley Golf Course.
Depending on how you read the maps, Raccoon Creek's headwaters are in Hartford Township, just north of Tagg Road's intersection with Westley Chapel Road. When I visited, the first few hundred yards were dry, running first west before beginning the wide curve around Johnstown that ultimately heads it towards Newark.
But just west of the gravel road, a seep and a culvert and a still pond of runoff marked the furthest "upstream" of this watershed that was damp enough to deserve the name.
I hope you'll join me in an armchair exploration of this watershed, which I think is of mutual interest to us all who live in it.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he walks to work things out, or at least to clear his head. Tell him how you think better at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Friday, July 15, 2022
Faith Works 7-22-22
Faith Works 7-22-22
Jeff Gill
Everyone doesn't agree with you (or me)
___
I closed out last time asking "What other assumptions were we making, then or now?" Because I think we really need to question some of our assumptions as members of faith communities, for those who participate and attend, and even for those who are seekers but don't have a stake in a particular tradition or institution.
Recently a member of Congress said that the government shouldn't be telling churches what to do, but that churches should be telling the government how things should be.
While this is not a Representative I agree with on much, if anything, I can take that point and agree in a certain way. Churches should, and do, tell governments what the Realm of God is, and how we should be bending the arc of history in that direction. If we have any integrity in our worldview and epistemology and metaphysics, heck yeah we should ask our elected representatives to follow truth, and not lies. I'm all in for that.
What the person in Colorado was implying, though, was that not only should the idea of a wall between church and state be dismantled (oh, so many columns there, past and future), but I heard her asking that we "return" (again, ?) to having Church tell State what to do. And that's where I hear some big ol' assumptions rattling around.
Sure, let's see how that plays out. If the Black Church is in charge of federal policy, I'm thinking we would move quickly to more support of child care, parental leave, and increased child tax credits. Was that what the member of Congress was asking for?
Or my good friends in the Anabaptist Churches, Mennonites and Amish and Hutterites, let alone the Church of the Brethren: if they are telling the government what to do, then the military apparatus isn't just going to get defunded, it might be closed and the bases not just renamed but repurposed into farms and fellowship halls. Was that the point?
Even more to the point, you could put the Catholic Church in charge of civic affairs. Political conservatives may be pleased about the stance on abortion and Pro-Life causes, but the economic policy positions may surprise them. Try reading papal encyclicals from Pope Leo XIII's 1891 Rerum Novarum, Quadragesimo Anno of Pius XI in 1931 or even John Paul II's 1991 Centesimus Annus. I'll be here when you get back.
Obviously my point is this: which church, or Church? The good Representatives who want "the church" to tell the state what to do are assuming most people are thinking of the same church and Christian positions as they are.
This is what democratic pluralism is all about, and why even the most conservative and committed person of faith is well advised to celebrate the freedom to be wrong in a place like America: because, news flash, many people out there think WE are wrong. So let's get about the work of convincing others of the truth we hold, and less emphasis on mandating everyone act and even think as we do, because victories of a coercive sort are always short-lived. Always.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's still not done on this subject. Tell him how you convince those around you of the truth you affirm at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Jeff Gill
Everyone doesn't agree with you (or me)
___
I closed out last time asking "What other assumptions were we making, then or now?" Because I think we really need to question some of our assumptions as members of faith communities, for those who participate and attend, and even for those who are seekers but don't have a stake in a particular tradition or institution.
Recently a member of Congress said that the government shouldn't be telling churches what to do, but that churches should be telling the government how things should be.
While this is not a Representative I agree with on much, if anything, I can take that point and agree in a certain way. Churches should, and do, tell governments what the Realm of God is, and how we should be bending the arc of history in that direction. If we have any integrity in our worldview and epistemology and metaphysics, heck yeah we should ask our elected representatives to follow truth, and not lies. I'm all in for that.
What the person in Colorado was implying, though, was that not only should the idea of a wall between church and state be dismantled (oh, so many columns there, past and future), but I heard her asking that we "return" (again, ?) to having Church tell State what to do. And that's where I hear some big ol' assumptions rattling around.
Sure, let's see how that plays out. If the Black Church is in charge of federal policy, I'm thinking we would move quickly to more support of child care, parental leave, and increased child tax credits. Was that what the member of Congress was asking for?
Or my good friends in the Anabaptist Churches, Mennonites and Amish and Hutterites, let alone the Church of the Brethren: if they are telling the government what to do, then the military apparatus isn't just going to get defunded, it might be closed and the bases not just renamed but repurposed into farms and fellowship halls. Was that the point?
Even more to the point, you could put the Catholic Church in charge of civic affairs. Political conservatives may be pleased about the stance on abortion and Pro-Life causes, but the economic policy positions may surprise them. Try reading papal encyclicals from Pope Leo XIII's 1891 Rerum Novarum, Quadragesimo Anno of Pius XI in 1931 or even John Paul II's 1991 Centesimus Annus. I'll be here when you get back.
Obviously my point is this: which church, or Church? The good Representatives who want "the church" to tell the state what to do are assuming most people are thinking of the same church and Christian positions as they are.
This is what democratic pluralism is all about, and why even the most conservative and committed person of faith is well advised to celebrate the freedom to be wrong in a place like America: because, news flash, many people out there think WE are wrong. So let's get about the work of convincing others of the truth we hold, and less emphasis on mandating everyone act and even think as we do, because victories of a coercive sort are always short-lived. Always.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's still not done on this subject. Tell him how you convince those around you of the truth you affirm at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Monday, July 11, 2022
Faith Works 7-15-22
Faith Works 7-15-22
Jeff Gill
In Many Cases, Most People Don't
___
Most people go to church. Most people who go to church go to megachurches.
Except they don't.
I was starting last week to talk about some of our misconceptions about what everyone does, what people do, or so we think.
A quick run of the numbers puts the regular churchgoer figure for our county, which I'd argue is not far from the averages nationwide, at or below one in five, some 20%. Which means four of five don't. An evangelistic opportunity on one level, a bracing reality check on another.
And the stats get tricky but for Protestants, maybe one in five of those who are going to church go to the really big ones. Megachurch is variously defined, to the point of confusion; average weekend attendance over 2,000 used to be a data gathering standard. I like to point out that, by this metric, a near majority of Catholic parishes are megachurch-ish, at least in size, but I'm just pestering Protestants for the moment. Multi-site has become bigger than getting cavernous and higher in the thousands, but the visibility of megachurches makes them more influential that perhaps they really are.
What is true is that smaller churches have been closing or merging faster in the last few decades, and there are not as many under 100 in membership churches. But that intermediate size is still the normative experience, and bulk of religious practice and experience in this country.
Most people believe in God; surveys continue to show high numbers of people saying so, even post-COVID, as attendance has gone down sharply in many quarters. However, there are many church leaders and theologians who argue that what most people believe in is something called "moralistic therapeutic deism," which I'm not going to unpack again this week, but is basically God without all the heavy stuff or religious superstructure. Of those who are members, let alone attenders, you might think most people within churches are in general agreement on doctrinal matters, but ask any local church minister: not so much.
There are debates aplenty about how to define a "Biblical worldview" or consistent parameters for what it means to be an "Evangelical," but the reality is that even within a fairly well-defined religious tradition, you find a great deal of diversity within any given congregation. Assuming everyone believes the most well-known tenets of a particular church if they're within that tradition is going to trip you up in a hurry.
This has come out in recent back and forth in American life and within churches around abortion, following the dismantling of the Supreme Court precedents of the 1970s regarding a federal standard on abortion access. In brief, it's the question of whether you believe it's wildly inconsistent or not that a solid majority of Americans said before last month in surveys they believe the Roe protections should stand, but nearly the same percentage says they are comfortable with restrictions after around fifteen weeks. That's not quite consistent, but it fits what I hear in general from people in this area.
What do most people think? It's a hard question to really ask, and in a time when minority positions of all sorts seem to be hardening in place, you have lots of voices saying it doesn't even matter. And as Mom always said, just because everyone is doing it or saying it doesn't make it right: "if everyone jumped off a cliff, would you do it, too?"
Our ability to create and maintain healthy communities, though, I would argue require us to get some clarity about where our current consensus actually is: around faith, around practice, regarding life and liberty in generally, let alone what happiness really is that we're supposed to be able to pursue.
We used to assume, many of us, that most people went to church — it's not clear that was ever true, and less so now — that most people believed the way we do about who God is and how to speak and listen in the divine presence, that most people planned to live a certain way, that most people had the same expectations of their government.
We also assumed everyone got the newspaper delivered to their house. As a paperboy in the 1970's, I can assure you it was never more than half. What other assumptions were we making, then or now?
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he still tries to stay on the sidewalk after four years of walking a paper route. Tell him how you stay on the straight & narrow at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Jeff Gill
In Many Cases, Most People Don't
___
Most people go to church. Most people who go to church go to megachurches.
Except they don't.
I was starting last week to talk about some of our misconceptions about what everyone does, what people do, or so we think.
A quick run of the numbers puts the regular churchgoer figure for our county, which I'd argue is not far from the averages nationwide, at or below one in five, some 20%. Which means four of five don't. An evangelistic opportunity on one level, a bracing reality check on another.
And the stats get tricky but for Protestants, maybe one in five of those who are going to church go to the really big ones. Megachurch is variously defined, to the point of confusion; average weekend attendance over 2,000 used to be a data gathering standard. I like to point out that, by this metric, a near majority of Catholic parishes are megachurch-ish, at least in size, but I'm just pestering Protestants for the moment. Multi-site has become bigger than getting cavernous and higher in the thousands, but the visibility of megachurches makes them more influential that perhaps they really are.
What is true is that smaller churches have been closing or merging faster in the last few decades, and there are not as many under 100 in membership churches. But that intermediate size is still the normative experience, and bulk of religious practice and experience in this country.
Most people believe in God; surveys continue to show high numbers of people saying so, even post-COVID, as attendance has gone down sharply in many quarters. However, there are many church leaders and theologians who argue that what most people believe in is something called "moralistic therapeutic deism," which I'm not going to unpack again this week, but is basically God without all the heavy stuff or religious superstructure. Of those who are members, let alone attenders, you might think most people within churches are in general agreement on doctrinal matters, but ask any local church minister: not so much.
There are debates aplenty about how to define a "Biblical worldview" or consistent parameters for what it means to be an "Evangelical," but the reality is that even within a fairly well-defined religious tradition, you find a great deal of diversity within any given congregation. Assuming everyone believes the most well-known tenets of a particular church if they're within that tradition is going to trip you up in a hurry.
This has come out in recent back and forth in American life and within churches around abortion, following the dismantling of the Supreme Court precedents of the 1970s regarding a federal standard on abortion access. In brief, it's the question of whether you believe it's wildly inconsistent or not that a solid majority of Americans said before last month in surveys they believe the Roe protections should stand, but nearly the same percentage says they are comfortable with restrictions after around fifteen weeks. That's not quite consistent, but it fits what I hear in general from people in this area.
What do most people think? It's a hard question to really ask, and in a time when minority positions of all sorts seem to be hardening in place, you have lots of voices saying it doesn't even matter. And as Mom always said, just because everyone is doing it or saying it doesn't make it right: "if everyone jumped off a cliff, would you do it, too?"
Our ability to create and maintain healthy communities, though, I would argue require us to get some clarity about where our current consensus actually is: around faith, around practice, regarding life and liberty in generally, let alone what happiness really is that we're supposed to be able to pursue.
We used to assume, many of us, that most people went to church — it's not clear that was ever true, and less so now — that most people believed the way we do about who God is and how to speak and listen in the divine presence, that most people planned to live a certain way, that most people had the same expectations of their government.
We also assumed everyone got the newspaper delivered to their house. As a paperboy in the 1970's, I can assure you it was never more than half. What other assumptions were we making, then or now?
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he still tries to stay on the sidewalk after four years of walking a paper route. Tell him how you stay on the straight & narrow at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
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