Vacations are wonderful! This week I have been traveling with my uncle (not Orley) through the Black Forest and Bavarian regions of Germany. Uncle Raymond and his wife, Irene, lived in Schwabisch-Gmund while he was stationed there in the army at a field artillery base in the early 1960s.
He always wished to return to this place that had been so significant to them in their days as newlyweds, but following her death last year the feeling intensified. Since he was reluctant to travel alone and since the couple had not been blessed with children one of whom might have accompanied him, I was thrilled when my wife, Connie, suggested that I go with him.
Jim White
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He was delighted and surprised that many of the buildings used by the army still stand although they now house a residential secondary school for students gifted in the arts. The irony of a former military facility where Pershing II rockets were once based now being home to students who are being trained to add beauty to the world has not been lost on me or on the students there.
My uncle became something of an instant celebrity as students crowded around him to ask in almost perfect English about his experiences there. As he described how things looked then and what the army was trying to accomplish during the Cold War, they nodded in understanding and asked questions to clarify. Occasionally terms like “ammo dump” thoroughly confused them. It was also obvious that these students, all of whom had been born after the collapse of the USSR and the reunification of Germany, wanted to get in touch with their past.
As I observed the emotional reunion that took place within my uncle, in my mind’s eye I could almost see the past and the present embracing after a long absence. I saw it, too, in the students eager to hear from someone who could fill in some of the blank spaces in their school’s past.
If have been reflecting these few days on the the power of connecting to our past. It was what motivated my uncle to travel thousands of miles from his home in southeastern Missouri. It was what prompted students to prod a visitor to tell them what things were like in the old days at their school. It was what amused my children on infrequent visits to the place of my childhood as I point out in detail the changes that had occurred since then. And it is what causes Fred Anderson and others to preserve a record of what has happened with Baptists in time gone by.
I have also been reflecting on the power of the arts. While visiting Schwaibish Hall, a mountain town established nearly 875 years ago, my uncle and I happened upon the rehearsal of Anton Chekov’s The Cherry Orchard. It was being performed on the steps of the Church of St. Michael. A proud English-speaking citizen filled us in on the details.
It seems that at some point in its history, someone discovered that a person speaking from any of the 53 steps leading from the square to the main entrance of this church building (constructed by Roman Catholics in the days before Luther) could be heard anywhere in the square. Perhaps it was a confidential prayer request spoken to the minister after church one Sunday that led to that discovery, I don’t know.
As it turns out, the slope of the square and the buildings around it create a unique acoustical effect. Opposite the church is the elegant town hall (Rathaus) with its commanding clock tower. To the right and left of the church, rows of shops and houses, some half-timbered in the traditional German style, create an amphitheater.
This acoustical uniqueness was for many years simply an oddity. But one day someone asked how this uniqueness might find ministerial purpose.
Using this phenomenon to its advantage, the church instituted a summer theater festival. Each evening, Monday through Friday, a popular play is performed by members of the community.
Not only has the festival established bonds of good will between the church and the community, but ticket sales and the shopping of crowds gathered have created an economic boon.
Part of my reflection on the arts has centered on the work of at least two new church starts in Virginia. All Souls Church in Charlottesville is loosely connected with an attempt to provide space for emerging artists to share their work. Whether they are painters or poets, sculptors or songwriters, they have a place to display their talents.
Not only does this make good sense as a means of connecting to the community, but the arts add to the quality of our culture. In addition to the message of hope declared from pulpits, the church can also find ways to add to the quality of our culture.
In Lisa Cole Hawkins, pastor of Convergence Church in Northern Virginia, my reflections merge. Convergence is appealing to the artistic community while connecting them to Baptist roots. Hawkins says that even those who enter the Baptist family from no religious tradition become fascinated when they discover part of their past as new Baptists.
Not every church can be a St. Michael’s or a Convergence, but every church can and should seek ways to lift the people of its community with the gospel and to connect with the interests of people. Remembering that “art” is subjective, a rural church might focus on the art of canning preserves or the art of bow hunting. Another might focus on the art of keeping a drive in the fairway or landscape perfection.
Of course, classical arts will find their places in the mix as well. Such an approach is essentially forward focused, like those who add beauty to life by planting trees in the shade of which they will not live long enough to sit.
In so doing, we can not only introduce them Jesus, but also to folks called Baptists who have a past worth embracing.
Jim White is editor of the Religious Herald.