On Thursday, September 27, my friend Edward T. Schrenker, Jr., died in an automobile accident. You can read his obituary by clicking here. Eddie was remembered in a Memorial Service on October 2 at The First U.P. Church of Crafton Heights, where he served in many capacities and was an active elder. Several of Ed’s friends have asked whether the memorial service was recorded. I am happy to provide this vehicle to include those who were not able to be there, or who might not have been able to hear the service clearly.
Because the service was so long (so sue me, Eddie), I’ve split the recording into three tracks. Listeners might do well to open up The Order of Worship in order track their listening.
The first part of the recording begins at the bagpipe prelude and ends during the portion of worship labeled “Remembering Ed Schrenker”.
The second part of the recording begins with the portion labeled “A Daughter’s Testimony” and ends with the singing of “Amazing Grace”.
The remainder of the recording contains that portion of worship from Micah 6:8 through the Words of Committal.
One particular element of the service was a form of prayer known as dayenu . The congregation joined in this prayer of lament and thanksgiving, and you might be encouraged to read it here.
The Sunday after Eddie’s death, his friends at church wanted to honor his memory. So we wore flannel shirts. There were more than 60 flannels in the room, sported by those as young as 11 months and as old as 85. It was beautiful.
It is my deep hope and prayer that this service pointed both toward the inspiration that Ed has been and will continue to be in the lives of those who have loved him AND the savior to whom Ed had surrendered his life and served joyfully and with abandon.
My Father-in-Law, V. Eugene McCoy, died very suddenly on Monday, July 16, 2018. From July 7 – 15, he joined the rest of the family in an incredible beach vacation that featured, among other things, our celebration of his 85th birthday. At the end of that trip, as each car prepared to depart and head north, he whispered – as he always did – into the ear of each member of the family, “Remember: Grammy and Gramps love you an awful lot!” He arrived home late in the day on the 15th, and on the morning of the 16th he went to play his regular Monday morning tennis match. After winning the first set convincingly, he collapsed on the court as his earthly life ended. I was privileged to be asked to make a few remarks at his memorial service from the Trinity Presbyterian Church in Wilmington, DE – the entirety of which was recorded and is accessible in the media link below. Since many readers of this blog knew Gene, and since all of us know death, I thought that you might be interested in reading this.
Dad, surrounded by much of the family, getting ready to dig into the cherry pie with which we’ll celebrate his 85th birthday on July 8 2018.
For this reason I kneel before the Father,from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name.I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being,so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:14-19, NIV)
I am humbled to stand here on behalf of the family and say a few words about the gift that Gene McCoy has been to us and to our family.
As far as I can figure it, I’ve known Gene for about 55 years. We met here – well not actually “here”, because there was no “here” here when we met. There was an orchard and a farmhouse and a Darley wing and a big old chestnut tree where we could get really cold lemonade on days like this. At that time, I was one of the little rugrats in the nursery and he was a guy who sneaked in during the first hymn and made his way into the side pew over there after his early morning tennis match or golf game.
Our relationship changed rather dramatically about 44 years ago when I fell in love with his daughter. While I was walking on eggshells for a few years, I soon came to appreciate at least his tolerance and eventually his embrace. And like everyone else in the front rows to my right – and probably everyone else in the room – I loved him fiercely. And like each of them, I have grown secure in his love for me.
Before I say too much, I’d like to ask you to pause for just a moment and reflect: what is something that Gene McCoy gave to you? Maybe it was a ride, or a piece of candy; it could’ve been a paper towel that he’d carried in his back pocket just hoping that someone would ask him for it. Maybe it was some good advice, or a book, or a carefully clipped comic strip or bridge column.
I’ll give you a moment, because my hunch is that you can’t think of just one.
Gene McCoy was one of the most amazingly generous people you’ll ever have the privilege to meet. While I bet everyone in the room knows this, my sense is that the people up front have had the most opportunities to witness this. As my brother-in-law Marty said, “Gramps redefined the basic Christmas stocking.” Each Christmas, the sons-in-law and grandchildren would find a giant bag with a tag indicating that it had been left by “the tool guy.” Every time Craftsman had a sale, Dad would go into the store and buy four or more of whatever shiny caught his eye. Do you know how when you go to a store there are special parking places for those with disabilities, and spaces for new or expectant mothers? I’m betting that the Sears store had a reserved spot for Gene McCoy.
In fact, is there anyone here from Craftsman today? If so, please accept my condolences. On behalf of the entire family, we’re deeply sorry for your loss.
Now, if you’re not in our family, you’re probably smiling to yourself and thinking, “Wow, that’s nice. Gene helped his sons-in-law get started. That was kind of him.”
And I’m here to tell you that you don’t get it. I mean, he bought, and we got, TOOLS! So many tools. Listen: every Christmas and every birthday for the past 40 years there has been a bag from Craftsman with my name on it. Some of it was stuff that I really wanted, and I couldn’t afford to buy for myself – like my first Shop-Vac. Lots of the tools were things that I didn’t even know that I needed – such as the band clamps he gave me a few years ago. And, to be honest, there has been a lot of stuff that I had to Google to find out what it was for and if and when I might ever need it.
You might not be surprised to know that as we and Dad aged, the themes of the tool kits changed. Early on, we seemed to find a lot of gadgets that everyone ought to have for their cars: Raise your hand if you ever had a standard-issue Gramps McCoy green tool kit or 12 volt air compressor in the back of your car… For a while he was in a “ratchet” phase. We got ratchet drivers and ratchet wrenches and flexible ratchets and who knows what else. There was a “cordless” phase, where we got battery-operated drills, mini-tools, saws, and – believe it or not – battery-operated hammers. Who knew?
But in spite of the phases, there were some things that were always – and I mean ALWAYS there. For forty years, twice a year, I’ve gotten a bag from Gene that has contained batteries, extension cords, scotch tape, super glue, light bulbs, and, of course, clamps.
This morning I’d like to suggest that Dad’s affinity for these particular gifts was rooted in his view of the world. When you opened your package of light bulbs – whether it was the old fashioned incandescent, or halogen, or fluorescent replacements, or LEDs, you could sense that Dad was saying that there were some dark corners in your home, and surely in our world, that needed a little more light and illumination.
When I carried those extension cords and the giant packages of batteries home, and to church, and to the youth center, it occurred to me that there are times when you just need a little more energy. Gene drank something like 23 cups of coffee each day in order to keep himself going, and he was always encouraging me to find ways to rest, recharge, and then engage with energy and purpose.
Each time I opened a package of tape, glue, or clamps, I was reminded that things – and people – tend to fall apart sometimes. When they do, it doesn’t make sense to just throw them away. Instead, he challenged us all to look for ways to mend, restore, and heal the things in our lives as well as the relationships in which we dwell.
In fact, it occurs to me that one gives tools to those who are able to recognize not only the brokenness of the world, but who also realize that each of us has agency – that is, we can effect change. One gives tools to those who believe that the world can and should be a better place.
In some ways, Gene McCoy is a tool given by God to help you and me to understand more of the Divine intention for this life, and to then use our energy, our intellect, and our time in working to make that intention palpable in the world.
The scripture you’ve heard from Ephesians chapter three is all about knowing what all of the best and most knowledgeable theologians say is unknowable – the love of God that surpasses knowledge. How can you measure the love of God? Where does it start? Where does it end? How in the world can we truly speak of these things that are fundamentally mysterious and supernatural?
And yet Verl Eugene McCoy, Junior, the scientist, sought to study that love. To quantify it. And, most importantly, to demonstrate it – to make it known not by describing it, not by talking about it, not by pointing to it – but by demonstrating it in the best way he could. In his lavish generosity, his insatiable curiosity, his insightful questioning, his corny jokes, his love for puzzles of all kinds, his efforts to push himself and challenge you – Gene McCoy was an agent of God seeking to make the purposes of God a little more clear.
As I say this, I am fully aware of the fact that if Dad was in the room right now, he’d be wishing that I would please talk about someone else; he would be uncomfortable with all of the attention being paid to him. To that I would simply respond that this is the first sermon I’m preaching in 30 years that Gene McCoy is not timing, he won’t be asking me to email him a copy, and he won’t be responding to it with some thoughtful questions and helpful feedback. Gene might be uncomfortable with us looking at certain aspects of his life as noteworthy or illustrative for us as we continue to walk this earthly journey, but this is one time I’m not giving him a vote.
Because here’s the deal, beloved: I know for a fact that while Alex, Marty, and I might have received the most white bags from “the tool guy”, each and every person in this room has been given tools of one sort or another – many, perhaps, by Gene himself; more, I’m sure, by others whom God has chosen.
One more thing about Dad and those tools: when he came out to Pittsburgh to visit, he would always find an excuse to go down into our basement. I’d find him looking into my tool cabinet, and he’d ask me, “Whatever happened to the such and such I gave you three years ago?” And if he saw a job at my place that needed to be done, he’d look at me and say, “You know, the ______ I gave you a few years back would be perfect to fix that…” He wasn’t nagging – he was gently reminding me that I had what I needed to get stuff done.
Folks, it’s pretty simple. Someone gives you a gift, and you say “thank you”, and then you USE that gift. In gratitude to God, and in honor of Gene McCoy, I’d like to encourage you to take a few moments at some time today to think about the gifts you have received. Then, make sure that you actually usewhat you’ve been given to make this world a brighter, more peaceful, and less-fractured place. It is what Gene tried to do, and it is surely the will of God for us. Amen.
To hear the entire memorial service, including music, scriptures, and other reflections, please use the audio player below.
The remarks about Gene’s life made by his pastor, the Rev. Brad Martin, begin at approximately the 21:10 mark of the audio recording. My remarks, outlined above, can be heard beginning at the 33:40 mark.
The comments below were made at the committal service, a gathering of our immediate family.
As we gather around the grave and contemplate the gift of Dad’s life and consider the nature of our own mortality, I’d like to share a brief reading from the first epistle of John, chapter 3:
See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. (I John 3:1-2, NIV)
As we think about the great mysteries of life and death, we have to confess that we don’t really know all that much. We know something about what we are, but we realize that we cannot truly be sure of what we will be…
So this day, let us claim what we know: the gift of love.
This past week, as most of you know, I watched more tennis on television than I have in my entire life. For some reason I enjoyed watching Gramps and the rest of you watching Wimbledon.
As I thought about this morning, and the events of this day, it occurred to me that it is easy to focus on what we do not have, and what has been taken away. And then I thought about tennis, where the score is kept in a different way. Nobody has “zero” in tennis. Nobody has “nothing.” When you don’t have anything else, you have “love.” When everything else is gone, there is “love”. And when nobody has anything, it’s called “Love All”.
It seems to me this morning that even when we feel most bereft, we can remember that we have “Love All”. As we walk through the difficult events of this day, let us remember that we have known great love – and if there are times when it feels as though you have nothing – hang onto that love.
In one of my first messages to a Malawian congregation on this trip, I shared the news that people in Pittsburgh were preparing to run a marathon this spring. Explaining to some of these folks exactly why anyone would voluntarily attempt to run 26.2 miles took some doing, but we got there. I said that one of the customs in such a race is to have people line the path and offer encouragement by cheering or sharing water with the racers. Nobody really sees the entire race, but each step is witnessed and applauded.
I believe that in many ways, that’s a good analogy to the trip that Brian and I have shared with our Malawian hosts, South Sudanese partners, and my friend Lauren. We’ve been running up and down and all around the country, and it’s been tough in some regards – but so worth it! And just like the end of the race features the finish line and the time to rest, so our sprint through Central Africa brought with it a “last day” and one last chance to take in the beauty of this nation and her people.
We began by attending the 6:00 a.m. English-speaking service for the Mawira CCAP in Liwonde. It was the first time that the service had begun at that hour, as it has been pushed back to accommodate a third worship service on Sunday morning in this rapidly-growing congregation. Nevertheless, the small group of about 60 swelled to well over 100 by the time 6:30 rolled around. The service was led by the Youth of the congregation, and it was tremendously encouraging to see how these kids are moving in leadership and ministry in this congregation. I was especially delighted when I realized that the pastor of this church is my old friend Dennis Mulele, whom I first met while doing a famine relief trip with the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance in 2003. He really made an impact on me during that trip and it was a great joy to reconnect in worship.
With Dennis Mulele at Mawire CCAP. The first time we met, the only gray was in our clothing!
Sharing the story
Offering the benediction.
Following the worship, we spent the afternoon in Liwonde National Park. This park has been steadily improving in terms of security (anti-poaching) and accessibility of wildlife during the time I’ve known Malawi. The location – right in Liwonde, about five minutes from the church – made it a great option for us to relax and unwind with a drive through the park as well as a “boat safari” on the Shire River. It did not disappoint in the least!
The graceful Impala!
This is a really bad photo of a jackal, but it’s the only jackal I’ve ever seen in Malawi.
A warthog with baboons in the background
The African Fish Eagle is the national bird of Malawi. It looks like the North American Bald Eagle, but it is not quite as large.
We made it home after dark and have spent the last 18 hours or so resting, packing, doing some last minute shopping, and enjoying a Penguins win from afar! We are so grateful for the ways that this trip has allowed us to carry the best wishes of Pittsburgh Presbytery into our partnerships here; for the chance to grow in friendship with each other and those who have accompanied us; for the grace of God that has sustained us in so many ways.
So for now, we say, Tionana, Malawi – “so long” – but not “goodbye”!
If you would like to hear more about this journey, find out how you or your (Pittsburgh Presbytery) congregation can be involved in the Partnership, or are interested in knowing about the upcoming plans to host a delegation from Africa in October 2018, please click here or simply come to our next meeting, Monday, May 7, 2018 at the Pittsburgh Presbytery Center (901 Allegheny Ave., Pittsburgh PA 15233).
The adventure in tripartite mission connection continues as the conference between representatives of Pittsburgh Presbytery, South Sudan Evangelical Presbyterian Church, and the Synod of Blantyre in Malawi ended with a day of shared worship and exploration. There were essentially two components to our day, and for the sake of brevity I’ll simply post a few photos of an inspiring worship service at the Koche CCAP wherein Brian Snyder preached and an afternoon of exploring some of the beauty of Lake Malawi.
Brian preaching at Koche with Davies translating.
Rev. James was so excited about the chance to worship in Malawi that he asked to sing a solo. It was wonderful!
I was privileged to bring greetings on behalf of Pittsburgh Presbytery.
Lauren prepares to dedicate the morning offering.
If the Youtube link above doesn’t work, then paste this into your browser to see a little of the congregational singing at this rural congregation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyLzBDhI2Yk
In Africa, it’s not uncommon for two men to hold hands while they walk and talk together. It IS uncommon when one of them is about 5’6 and the other is about 6’8! Life might be better if we all left worship like this…
A baboon grabbing a quick snack…
Adventures in tripartite boating!
There are more than 1000 species of cichlids in Lake Malawi – the most astounding diversity of fish anywhere on earth.
Where there are fish, there are fish eagles…
The sun sets on another day of partnership and mission.
Regular readers of this blog will, I hope, forgive me for a departure from the normal format. My sister has asked me to create a post to house the message I was privileged to share at the funeral service for her son, my nephew Ben Butzbach. Ben was a real character — larger than life in so many ways. Interested readers can find his obituary by clicking here.
To listen to the message I shared, use the media player below:
An avid fan of the Nashville Predators, Ben cohosted a radio program called Penalty Box Radio. Click here to hear a tribute show that was aired just after Ben’s death.
Ben’s passion for hockey led him to help establish Fire House Hockey, a non-profit dedicated to helping teams composed of first responders and public safety personnel in their mission to raise funds and awareness for members of their community that suffered loss.
During the television broadcast of the Predators game immediately following the funeral, the announcers gave a wonderful send-off to the man they called “Big Ben.” The NHL network featured this tribute on this website.
Ben leaves behind a legion of friends, but most particularly his wife Brandy and his son Jake. A fund has been established to help provide for Jake’s education in the years to come. You can learn more about that by Clicking here.
I have often been approached by people who have been wounded by well-meaning comments from friends and loved ones. I was intrigued by a recent read, Half-Truths, in which Adam Hamilton examines some of these phrases which can be cancerous. Our scripture on August 27 included Luke 20:9-19 and Romans 8:28-39
To hear this sermon as preached in worship, please use the media file below.
You’ve heard them before. You’ve probably said them yourself a time or two. You might even believe them. I’m talking about those pithy sayings which, when uttered with just the right inflection and tone, have the sound of righteousness and wisdom. They sound like the kind of common sense that “everybody knows”.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness. God works in mysterious ways. God helps those who help themselves. Love the sinner, hate the sin.
You’ve probably even heard them in church.
The thing is, though, is that they are not in the Bible. I understand that they are often used by well-meaning Christians to try to communicate some sort of comfort or challenge; they may also seek to provide some rationale or basis for behavior. But most of them are just not quite right.
Author Adam Hamilton calls them “half truths”. They sound spiritual, and are certainly a good fit for the 21st century American ethos. However, as theologian Miroslav Wolf says, “the nuggets of wisdom we often let guide our lives may contain some serious levels of contaminants.” Because they are common sentiments, if not common sense, we’ll be taking a look at a few of these sayings in the weeks to come.
If you’re like me, you probably don’t remember the first time you heard any of these. They are so enmeshed in our culture and identity that it’s tough to recall. I do, however, remember the first time that one of these really got under my skin.
My freshman roommate at Geneva College was a young man from Coraopolis named Tim. He and I were born on the same day in the same year – we had a lot in common. I vividly remember sitting in the student union building on campus and being told by another friend, “Well, Tim died. It was his heart.”
What? In my world, 18 year olds don’t have heart attacks, thank you very much. But Tim did.
Four years later, all our finals were done and the papers had been turned in. There was a smaller group of us on campus celebrating “Senior Week”. We were packing our belongings, saying our goodbyes, and preparing for graduation, jobs, marriages, and so on. I got a call: “You better get on down to the softball field. Steve has collapsed. I think he’s dead.” And like that, another young friend who we all thought had “his whole life in front of him” died of a heart attack. At age 22.
I will never forget roaming the halls at Geneva College, sitting on a bench overlooking the Beaver River, and yelling skyward, “Why? Where are you now, God?”
And on each of those occasions – and a thousand others since, someone who loved me very much came and put arms around me and said, “Well, Dave, you’ll get through this. Don’t forget… everything happens for a reason.” And some of my more spiritual friends even backed that up with a quote pried away from its scriptural context, “all things work together for good”, right?
My first response to that phrase was one of relief and release. “Oh, good,” I thought. “The world may appear to be a red hot mess right now, but I can relax, because God is still in charge. There’s no need for me to be sad or to worry, because God is going to sort things out. Tim and Steve – they are in a better place. I’m OK. It’s all good, right?”
But the more I thought about things, the closer I got to my second reaction, which was “Are you kidding me???? Everything happens for a reason? What reason could there possibly be for apparently healthy young men dropping dead? What about babies dying? Cancer? Lynchings or slavery? Starvation? Child abuse? I mean, if everything happens for a reason, someone’s got some ‘splainin’ to do.”
There’s a deep theological question here. If everything happens for a reason, then we can say with integrity that everything that happens, happens because it’s a part of God’s plan. If everything that happens happens because God has planned it, then the choices and decisions that you and I make, as well as the actions we take or fail to take, have absolutely no bearing. Why bother wearing a seatbelt, saving money for the future, or voting in elections if everything is a part of God’s eternal plan? “Let go and let God,” right (also not in the Bible, along with “Jesus take the wheel”)?
Do we really want to say that all the horrible stuff in our world is divinely planned? That God’s eternal providence mandates the drowning of toddlers, the devastation of atomic bombs, the destruction of Hurricane Katrina, or the senselessness of 20 years of futility for the Pittsburgh Pirates? Are you going to pin all of that on God? Because that’s what you’re doing when you say, slowly and compassionately, “everything happens for a reason.” You are essentially saying that God is, well, a real jerk.
The Bible’s answer to the question, “Who’s in charge around here?” is, not surprisingly, fairly complex and at times bafflingly incomplete.
God, obviously, is in charge. But some Christians – often Presbyterian Christians – have taken that view to the extreme and espoused a doctrine known as “determinism”. The line of thinking goes like this: God is all-powerful. As such, then, anything that happens happens because God made it happen. God planned – or determined – that it would happen. People who hold to this view of a micro-managing God would be logically compelled to recognize that the Divine plan for this day included your choice of socks for today, the President’s latest tweet, and the price of tea in China. If God is power and God is strength, then God is power and strength everywhere, and his control is absolute.
And in our zeal to rebel against that sort of controlling, despotic, notion of the Diety, we say, “Well, yes, of course God is all powerful – but God’s goodness is no less complete than God’s power. God does not visit destruction and chaos on the universe or the world he loves. God doesn’t cause drunk driving or bridge failures or adulterous marriages…” So some people swing to the other extreme and say that the only thing for which we can account is the impact of personal responsibility. It’s all up to me. I can’t depend on God, if there is one, because he is unable or unwilling to intervene in the operation of the created order. If he could, he would; but since he’s all good, and wouldn’t want any of that bad stuff to happen, he must be unable to prevent it, and so it’s up to me.
Fortunately, a rigorous reading of scripture preserves us from either of those two alternatives. God is both all-powerful and all-loving. God cares for the creation enough to invest it with some measure of freedom. For us, that means that we make choices and our choices matter – but that nothing we do can ultimately thwart God’s ultimate intentions for his universe. Those intentions – clearly outlined in Romans 8 – are for the good of the creation. It is impossible, it says, for anyone to act in such a way that isolates one’s self from the love of God in Christ Jesus. There are just some places that are too far for us to go, and pretending that we can live outside of God’s love and care and compassion does not make that possible.
That being said, the parable in Luke points out that human decisions have very real and direct consequences. What is simply remarkable in the story that Jesus tells is that God appears willing to take some of the pain and grief that are the results of our decisions upon himself.
Luke 20 contains the account of Jesus telling a story to a group of religious leaders a few days before he would be killed, in large measure, because of choices that those same religious leaders would make. In his parable, Jesus describes God as a man who entrusts what is dear to him to a group of other people, even though those people continue to prove themselves to be wholly undeserving of such trust. In spite of this, the man continues to allow those people the opportunity to make different choices, and ultimately he becomes vulnerable to the point of intense personal pain and loss.
You know, I’m not really sure that I can fit this into a 17 minute sermon, much less a sympathy card or an internet meme, but here’s what I think that scripture says in regard to my “Why?” questions…
God is the source of all that there is and ever will be.
The heart of God is love.
God does not cause tragedy, but often reveals himself in or through it.
God gives you and me the freedom to make choices – even spectacularly poor ones – and promises to walk with us through the blessings, joy, chaos, or carnage that result from those choices that we and others make.
There are times, apparently, where God is willing to intervene in some sort of supernatural ways. More often God tends to work in and through people like me and you.
At the end of the day it is not my responsibility – nor is it even within my capability – to understand and explain God, or God’s actions or inactions. I must confess that God is God and I am not.
At the end of the day it is my responsibility to claim the fact that God is with me in joy and in pain, and to do my best to live as Jesus did. I do this when I do all I can to stand beside those who struggle, to stand in front of those who would do evil, and to stand behind the Jesus who promises that no mistake I make or tragedy I suffer is beyond the power of his resurrection love.
You could say it’s not fair. I asked “WHY?”, and God said, “you’ll get through this.” That’s not a direct answer, but it is, in my view, the answer from scripture.
Not everything happens for a reason. I get that. But there is nothing that happens in such a way that isolates us from the presence and power of God’s ability to bring healing, hope, and resurrection. I don’t know why some of these horrible things happened, nor can I predict where and when and why they will happen again. But I can tell you that you and I have the opportunity and responsibility to choose how we will respond to the tragedies that fill our world. May God bless you in your suffering, your choices, and your participation in God’s intentions for the world. Thanks be to God for those intentions. Amen.
 I am indebted to Hamilton for the idea for this entire sermon series, which was inspired by his book of the same name (Abingdon Press, 2016).
 Wolf’s quote is on the back cover of Hamilton’s book.
Well, we had another fantastic day working in the great Smoky Mountains. The weather was once again very favorable, and our team responded with energy and imagination. We find that having limited access to tools and ladders poses a challenge to involving everyone all the time, but the young people are very understanding, and everyone is taking turns to make sure that each person is contributing to and participating in the work at hand.
We were amazed that on Wednesday we were able to essentially complete the large porch structure, including the roof. One of the things that I love about these trips is that it pushes all of us – including the leaders – out of our comfort zones. We were able to innovate and adapt with what we had on hand in order to get the job done.
Our evening on Wednesday had a decidedly different rhythm, and we were grateful for that. First, we enjoyed an amazingly bountiful potluck dinner at the Cherokee United Methodist Church. There was no program – just an opportunity for us to sit and visit with another work group ( from Ohio!) as well as members of this congregation.
Following the meal, we went to an outdoor ampitheater, where we enjoyed a live production entitled “Unto These Hills”. For about 2 1/2 hours, we watched local actors engage in some traditional Cherokee dancing, followed by a presentation of the history of the inhabitants of this area. We continued to soak in aspects of Cherokee history and culture of which many of us have been ignorant. The drama included some Cherokee mythology about the nature and purpose of the creation, but was mostly centered in on how the Cherokee people developed a peaceful agricultural community in these mountains. It narrated the history of relationship between Native Americans and the Europeans and included a glimpse at some of the ways that the various groups of native Americans related to one another. Of course, no telling of the Cherokee story would be complete without reference to the removal in the late 1830s and the “Trail of Tears” in which so many died. It was a somber moment for our group to participate in this.