Last Day in Wyoming - Sept 28, 2015

Rain this morning. The first rainy day in my six weeks here. We had two thunderstorms at night, but no rainy days.Time to leave. I have gathered up the logistical loose strings - shipping stuff home to lighten luggage, making sure all bills are paid, putting gas in the car to return it full at the airport tomorrow morning very early. I am glad that I have had a couple of days to think about, assimilate, and interpret what has been on my mind during this trip. Aside from visiting a beautiful state, it seems that I have been thinking about resisting and embracing change. The situation of  Presbyterians in Wyoming as they negotiate their relationship with a national church that has taken some fairly radical steps to become more inclusive has provided a strong environment for thinking about this theme. (Note irony: More inclusive means more liberal which means less inclusive - that's part of the paradox I have been pondering.)

In addition to the report/article I will need  to write for  this project, I have been working on sermons that I will give on this theme next week at the Church of Christ at Dartmouth (UCC) in Hanover on this subject, and a similar one that I will give at Christ Church (Presbyterian) in Burlington, Vt, soon after. Both of these are progressive churches that are in the midst of significant change as they seek new pastors and grieve the loss of their previous ones. I have also been writing a brief article with an assigned title that will be published as part of a larger volume. The article  is entitled: "The Decline of Established Christianity in the Western World: A Perspective from American Mainline Protestantism". And then there was the Pope's visit. Is it mere spectacle, or is it substantive? Does he represent a force for change, truly? Or just a more appealing persona? Is a more appealing persona enough?

So all of these things are still running through my mind,  colliding rather forcefully.

Thank you for reading this blog. I really appreciate the interest so many of you have shown, and the feedback you have given me. Maybe I will keep up this blog, or start a new one, but I doubt it will have daily entries. This has been a special time of reflection, made possible by the Louisville  Institute, the warm reception from many people in  Wyoming,  the  interest of my friends, and, supremely, the patience of Carolyn. who has been a constant presence in the absence.

Last Sunday in Wyoming - September 27, 2015

I attended worship at First Presbyterian Church in Casper, which is one of the two Presbyterian churches in Wyoming (so far) to secede from the PCUSA to affiliate with the Evangelical Presbyterian Church. They retained their grand and lovely building, which was sparsely populated for worship. The service was noticeably more Calvinistic than typical PCUSA worship, mainly in their using part of the seventeenth centuryWestminster Confession of  Faith as their Confession Faith, rather than the more commonly used Aposles' Creed, or portions of a more modern statement of Faith. The sermon was about David and Goliath. It is clear that this church sees itself as David, facing  the Goliath of modern culture. The pastor announced a large goal: to transform Casper. What particular transformation is needed, or what the result should be was not specified. Since there was a business meeting after worship, I did not stay for coffee hour.

In  the evening I attended a movie group from the Shepherd of the Hills Presbyterian Church (PCUSA), where we watched the classic film, The Passion of Joan of Arc. Especially in light of the  Pope's visit this week, the film prompted much discussion about how the church, in its various forms, has been complicit in violence. We all agreed that the church has sometimes failed to live up to its calling, and how easy it is for self-righteousness to overwhelm compassion. Then we went out to look at the moon eclipse, but the clouds obscured our vision.

The Challenge of Mormonism - Sept 26, 2015

I have been led to think  about Mormonism by two events today. The first was an Associated Press article in this morning's local newspaper, The Casper Star Tribune. The reference, of course, is to the extraordinary lunar eclipse that will take place tomorrow night, which I look forward to viewing at the home of some friendly Presbyterians who have invited me to come look through their telescope. The informative article indicated that the alarm was taken seriously enough by the Mormon church leaders "that they took the rare step this week of issuing a public statement cautioning the faithful not to get carried away with visions of the apocalypse."

The second event was  my trip to Fort Casper, which features a reconstruction of the "Mormon Ferry", authorised by Brigham Young, after he hard a hard time crossing the North Platte  River, to help get settlers make the crossing and to make money. (Ferry charge: $1 to $6 per wagon, depending upon the  condition of the  river, which, at times, could be more than 300 feet across.) Here's 

picture.


Mormonism is very strong out here in Wyoming - almost like Southern Baptists in Alabama.

Now these events are notable to me because (1) Mormons seem to be exceptionally devoted to their faith, and (2) I have no desire to become a Mormon. It has been instructive for me to think about why that is. I tend to like Mormons. They tend to be nice people. However, when the Mormon missionaries come to my door, I do not invite them in to give me their spiel. I know their story, I  know their doctrines, I am not interested.

It strikes me that my last couple of posts, when I have been wondering about how to encourage church attendance by the young, may strike some people the same way that Mormon missionary efforts strike  me. I'm just not interested. Not hostile. Just not interested. I know what they are offering, but it is not for me. 

So, in a way that will please at least one of my sons, I have been humbled. But I still maintain: the fact that we cannot embrace all religions does not mean that we should not embrace one. 

A case for church attendance - September 25, 2015

I woke up repeatedly last night, trying to think of what I might say in this promised post. I had hoped I would come to a compelling insight as to why young people, and others, might want to attend church. I was able to dispute every assertion, even half-awake. But I promised  I would try, so here goes

I am writing from a Christian perspective. If you have another live tradition in your life - one  that attracts you or that you practice - this post may not be for you. It might sound like I'm telling you why you should play piano instead of violin. I say stick to  the instrument that you know. But if you are currently playing no instrument, or if you are looking for a new one, here's why I think you might want to try church:

1. Church is the only place I know where people gather regularly to think honestly about the meaning and purpose of their lives. And I think that is a very good thing to do. Yes, it's possible to do it alone on the beach  - and I hope you do - or reading a book, or talking with a friend. But church is a regular place to do it. It's a discipline that takes place in a 

2. community. Community is important.  I know you have friends. You may even  have a community. But unless you are involved in something like church, you don't have a community of thoughtful people regularly available to consider what is the meaning and purpose of life from the perspective of

3. a tried and true tradition. We  aren't the first people to think about these questions. Wisdom has been passed down for generations, constituting a living tradition. The  tradition doesn't necessarily have all the answers, but it knows all the questions, and it knows some answers or practices that generations of people have found helpful.We are foolish to think that we can, or must, reinvent the wheel.

4. But, I fully acknowledge, some church traditions are not for me. I have found churches where I could stay for awhile, find something useful maybe, but soon ran up against ideas that I could not abide. That is why it is important to

5. give a few churches a chance. If you really don't relate to what is going on, try another one. Stay where you feel a connection - to the people, the place, the leader, - whatever connection you feel. And then

6. ask questions. As a chaplain and a teacher, I most enjoyed conversations where students asked me hard questions. Don't be afraid to approach the pastor, or whoever is  in leadership, and say, "I'd like to talk with you. Can we meet sometime?"

7. Finally, if your journey takes you to a Christian church, you must, if you haven't, read the Bible. Not the whole thing, at once, but something. I suggest starting with the gospel of Mark, the shortest one, which you can read entirely in  an hour, easily. There is no reason for you to be in a Christian  church unless you find Jesus interesting. That's all, at the start. Just interesting. 

Now. I know that I have not convinced you , but I hope I have at least made a plausible case as to why you might want to attend church - why it might be worth your time, why it might become truly important. Let me know if anything I have said resonates - or if it doesn't, tell me why. Please.

Why so few younger people attend church - Sept 24, 2015

I appreciate the helpful responses I have received from some of you, mostly by  email, addressing the question of why so few young people attend church (or any other religious practice). I think it only fair, and useful to me,  to pull my thoughts together on this subject, taking into account the help that I have received. So here are some thoughts, in no particular order.

1. The defection of youth from religion (and especially mainline Protestantism) is not just a subjective  impression. Data from a recent respected  survey by the Pew Research Center for Religion and Public Life document it as fact. You can look at their website if you are interested. But why?

2. Most important: many of them have no tradition to forsake. Their parents were either only nominally affiliated (the great defections began, like everything else it seems, in the 1960's , expanded in the 1970's, and  have continued ever since), or not affiliated at all. So many younger people have never gone to church. It's like asking why they don't play polo, or canasta.What?

3. Still, a good  many of them (including some I know every well) went to church regularly as children. So what happened to them? Here are some answers:

a. they never liked it. Sunday School was boring. The youth group, if there was one, was lame. None of their friends went to church, and they liked those kids a lot better.

b. Other activities on Sunday took precedence.

c. Certainly their college friends never went to church. In fairness, they may have tried it out a couple of times, but it just wasn't what was happening on Sunday morning.

d. The religious students they knew at school or college were few and not congenial. Christian groups at college seemed very evangelical, weird, and unappealing.

e. They developed friend groups - a kind  of  community, - that added to their lives.  Church wasn't necessary.

f. Although they respect that some religious people do good things and have both good morals and good minds, religion doesn't seem necessary for  either. Add to that their impression that religion has been responsible for a lot of evils in the world, and has as often been on the wrong side of things as on  the right side, so maybe it's better just to opt out - except on ceremonial occasions with family or certain friends on unusual occasions, or maybe holidays.

g. Life gets very busy. Full, in fact. Sabbath is a great idea. Let's go have bagels or brunch with friends. That seems  like a better use of time . And it feeds my soul.

h. I have nothing against religion really - but I don't have a lot for it either. So hey.

That pretty much summarizes it. In my next post, I will try to make a case for church attendance. Stay tuned.

Why so dark? - September 23, 2015

Today I drove from Sheridan back to Casper, where my journey started and where I will spend the next few days trying to pull things together. On the drive down the middle of the Big Horn Valley, I stopped at Fort Phil Kearny State Park, where I learned more about the US Government's efforts to protect explorers and settlers along the Bozeman trail after the discovery of gold  in Montana. The fact that these expansions violated the treaties that had been made with the Indians did not seem to matter.

One  of my most faithful blog readers - in fact, probably the most faithful one, my son Daniel - observed to me that my entries seem to have, on the whole, a dark edge. He wonders if I am depressed.

On consideration, I acknowledge the dark edge, though I will  not concede the light. This journey has made me more aware of three things. First, the light has shown itself supremely in  the stunning beauty of the American west, especially as I have encountered it in Wyoming. Second, I have been able to experience the persistent and generally warm-hearted efforts of Presbyterians in Wyoming to be faithful to the gospel and  to their tradition, despite changes that are to some of them profoundly welcome but to some others are not only unwelcome but profoundly wrong. The pain involved in this conflict is as apparent to me as the promise. And - third - I have become aware in a completely new way of the cost - to native Americans and to our own sense of national integrity - of the American expansion in  the west, so that my earlier inattention  to this subject, tinselled at it was by the general theme of inevitable American progress, has been tarnished. What I had  known in  a superficial and purely academic way has become much more real and experiential. And it is not a noble subject. I had not known, for example, anything about the Sand Creek massacre - a dreadful act of deliberate and unprovoked violence that continues to cause understandable ripples of distrust and  anger through our nation's history. If you know nothing about it, look it up and weep - and ask yourself why you never knew about this before. It is easy both to know something and to ignore it. This trip has made me more aware of the beauty and the ugliness. I don't think the blog can only communicate the beauty. And, of course, I have continued to grieve the death of my friend.

This is a start in trying to pull things together.

Montana: Bozeman and the Little Big Norn Battlefield - September 21, 2015

 Since I had a free day, and I am in Sheridan near the border of Montana, I made a trip across the Montana Mountains to Bozeman, where I  met my former confirmation mentee, Brian Moses. I worked with Brian years ago at our church in Lebanon. Always an adventurous lad, he choose to go to college at the University of Montana in Missoula, and, after graduation, he stayed there. It was a pleasure to see him almost in his home habitat. (Bozeman is the site of arch-rival Montana Sate University, but it it was a more convenient meeting place.)

On the way back from Bozeman to Sheridan, I was able  to stop for a while at the Little Big Horn Battlefield National Monument. Over 250 men of the US 7th Cavalry, led by Lt. George A. Custer, died there in a two day battle in June 1876, when they were surprised by a massive coalition of tribes (Cheyenne, Arapaho, Lakota and others) who were camped near by. Many stories have emerged about exactly what happened there and why. Amid the sad confusion is the fact that the Indians were resisting the reservation system being imposed upon them by the US government, which, despite the treaty of 1868, had resulted  in more and more of their hunting ground being confiscated. This was one  of the climactic battles of the long conflict. Fueled in part by anger about Custer's defeat, the US Army pulled out all the  stops, and  the  final battle of the conflict, forcing the Indians onto diminished and permanent reservations, was fought at Wounded Knee in 1880.

Here is a picture looking up the hill to the monument that marks the site of "Custer's last stand" The stone markers (and this is only a small portion) indicate where soldiers died. Few Indians died there, but red stone makers have  been added indicating their place of fall. The remains of all the soldiers were later interred at the site of the monument, except for Custer's, which were taken to West Point. The horses, which the soldiers killed to use as a futile barricade, were buried behind the monument. It is a very sad and poignant place.

Sheridan and the Medicine Wheel - September 20,2015

The journey yesterday from Powell to Sheridan took me over the Big Horn Mountains - a route that offered spectacular vistas as well as the opportunity to stop and visit Medicine Wheel. Medicine Wheel is a site sacred to many native American tribes. Its specialness is preserved by the fact that motorists must leave the scenic  route (14A) and travel 1 and  1/2 miles on a one lane  gravel road to a parking area, and then they must walk another 1 and 1/2 miles to the site. The path rises to the top of an almost 10,000 foot mountain. (The highest peak on the  Big Horn Mountains is 13,800 feet.) The  Medicine Wheel  is an ancient rock circle with 28 rock-lines radiating from a central cairn. Its origins and purposes are unclear. What is known is that it stands on a trail used by many native Americans to cross the Big Horn Mountains, and that it continues to be a place of inspiration. It was worth the walk, although I confess that the round trip walk, up and down the trail, was not just a walk in the park.

Sheridan, a city of over 17,000 people, is a very substantial town. My worship experience this morning at First  Presbyterian Church was exceptionally welcoming and delightful. It was very encouraging to see a church with lots of children who were beginning a new year in Sunday School. The pastor, Doug Melius, made a point of  welcoming me, and he asked me to lead the hour-long Bible study following worship and coffee hour (up to good Presbyterian standards). A group of about 14 people read and talked with me and each other about the last two chapters of II Timothy. Those chapters contain some  interesting and provocative verses that go to the  heart of current Prebyeterian controversies. Have a look. The discussion was thoughtful, sincere, and considerate.

One gentleman at coffee hour - who was very cordial - told me that Sheridan county is the most conservative county in Wyoming. I do not know what data support this claim. I can only say that I felt very much at home in the worship service here.  This might be affected  by the fact that I already knew Jesse Melius, the pastor's son, who was a youth advisory delegate at last year's PCUSA General Assembly, where I was a commissioner. My assigned committee-seat was adjacent to his, so we spent many hours together. It is exceptionally nice to see him again.

Presbytery Meeting - Sept 17-18-19, 2015

I am now attending the fall meeting of the Presbytery of Wyoming, which is being held at the Union Presbyterian Church in Powell, For those of you who are unfamiliar with such things, the Presbytery of a given area  (in this case,Wyoming) consists of all the ministers (Teaching Elders) in the region (in  this case, Wyoming), plus at least one  Ruling Elder from each congregation. The Presbytery has authority over all ministers, and it exercises oversight of the churches as well. A Presbytery meeting is part fellowship, part inspiration, part education, part business, and  part reconnecting. In a large area like Wyoming, the fifth part is especially important.

Today there was a four hour session on Change, from a systems perspective. (yes, there were the usual Presbyterian light-bulb jokes.) Since my project is much concerned with change  in the denomination, congregations, and our larger culture,  this was an interesting  presentation for  me. I learned that, the  most important leverage point for effecting change is to recall the group's attention to its deepest values and  purposes. Well, I really didn't learn that. I already knew it. But it was comforting to have this fact documented. The question of how exactly to do that remains.

Tonight there is dinner and worship; tomorrow there is business, which will end, supposedly, at  lunch  time. Then I will be off to Sheridan, to visit my final church.

Cody: Two museums Sept 16, 2015

Every little town in Wyoming seems to have its own museum, about the west, the pioneers, the mines, or some local interest. Cody, however, has a huge museum - in fact, five of them under one roof and one title: Buffalo Bill Center of the West.

Ordinarily, I am not much for museums. I like to go in, see what I want as I whisk through, and leave. Too many exhibits overwhelm me. However, prodded by the advice of a friend, I paid my $17 to tour the Buffalo Bill Center. One museum is devoted entirely to Buffalo Bill - his  life, his exploits as a scout and as a showman. Another is devoted to Natural History of the Yellowstone region. A third is the  Whitney Meseum of Western Art. Lots of Remingtons. The fourth is the History of the  Plains Indians (the newest and most interesting). And the fifth has to do with  firearms - which I did  not explore. The highlight of this 3 hour visit was watching the "raptor experience", when an official brought out some sort of damaged and recsued raptor  and told us about it.  Pictured below is a common  turkey vulture - a huge bird that I had  never seen up close. Impressive and interesting. 

 

Then , as I travelled from Cody to Powell (there is a Presbyterian church in Cody; I saw it, but, unfortunately, was unable to arrange anappointment with the pastor), I stopped at the Heart Mountain Relocation Center - or what used to be the Heart Mountain Relocation Center. This was the site of a Japanese Internment Camp during World War II. Eleven thousand Japanese-American citizens were interned  there for almost three years.This was one of ten such camps in the country - a total of 110,000 internees. Now, the site is absolutely barren, except for a walking tour trail through the sage brush that identfies where the  baracks were, the school, etc. A new "interpretive center" has been built, but I, quite alone, walked the windy trail through the now barren place. As you know, barren places often speak to me, and this one certainly did. It reminded me of another very chill, wet day in 1995 when I was a solitary visitor - absolutely no one else there - at Birkenau in Poland. (My family, who had already seen Auchswitz, choose to wait in the car. They had seen enough.) I do not mean to imply that the two camps are similar. Heart Mountain was certainly not a death camp. In fact, over 750 internees joined the US armed forces. One of the internees,  Norman Mineta, became a cabinet member. But read these placques and look at this barren place and feel the power of knowing how wrong we sometimes are.

There are many empty places in Wyoming, where stand historical markers saying something like " Here the Shoshone (or Araphoe or many others) camped and hunted until they were confined on reservation in1868." Now the lands are barren, and the tribes are on the reservations. It's another testimony to the power of barrenness.

The Devil's Kitchen, dinosaurs, and the Bible - September 15, 2015

So far, no comments on my crowd sourcing question yesterday. I did have  a very thoughtful email response from a friend. If  you prefer to send an email, by all means do. Richard.R.Crocker@gmail.com will do it.

Today, a rest day, began with my dropping my iPhone on the  wooden floor in my historic hotel room and shattering the crystal. Yuk. But the phone still works, and it is insured, so no big tragedy. Just a nuisance.

Then I set out to explore some scenic gravel roads around Greybull, one leading to Devil's Kitchen and the other to Wyoming's greatest concentration of dinosaur tracks. Both adventures involved driving very slowly for miles over rough gravel roads. Devil's Kitchen, pictured below, inadequately, is a sink-hole or canyon filled with strange, multi-colored formations that do in fact look like a cauldron brew. I was there totally by myself, of course, except for a few monstrous trucks hauling bentonite that I encountered on the road. It was worth the journey.

The dinosaur tracks, not so much. Miles of deserted road got me  to a place where, remarkably there was a school bus-load of grammar school kids cavorting  around, despite the signs warning of rattlesnakes. And the dinosaur tracks, painstakingly described in posted signs, were absolutely invisible to me. The  rocks were full of chicken scratch, as  far as I could  tell. But the signs proclaimed their singular significance. Here is one of the signs, which  testifies that Dartmouth  students have worked  on this site. This was part of the  Earth Science off-campus term, I am sure. It pleases me to think of Dartmouth students scratching around among the rattlesnakes, miles  from anything resembling civilization.

I have been thinking about churches, too. I was told yesterday that there is a lot of negative feeling about the PCUSA in some places because there is a perception, given General Assembly actions, that "Presbyterians don't believe the Bible." That has set me wondering what in the world it means to believe the Bible. There is NO tradition that takes the Bible more seriously than Presbyterians do. But taking it seriously means that we use all the tools at our disposal to understand it, rather than simply repeating phrases from it. This seems to me to be the  heart of a very painful controversy.

Greybull, Shell, and Bentonite - September 14, 2015

Greetings from the Historic Hotel Greybull,  located, as might be expected, in Greybull, Wyoming. Here it is.

Today I spoke  with Pastor Becky Anderson and several elders at the Presbyterian churches in Greybull and Shell. Greybull has a population of about 1700 people. Shell, fifteen miles east, in the shadow of the  Big Horn Mountains, has 84 people. Becky pastors both churches, conducting worship in each of them every Sunday, in addition to working as a substitute teacher and a staff member in an adolescent group home. She is one busy person.

Both churches are small. Both pride themselves on being family- like, with a strong sense of community. Both have excellent facilities, Both are worried about their aging congregations and the lack of young people and children.

Since this is a theme I have encountered often, I am posing the question, indeed, I am crowd sourcing the question, and I really encourage  readers of my blog to post an answer in the comment section  below. The question is: WHY DO SO FEW YOUNG PEOPLE ATTEND CHURCH? Please give  me the benefit of your opinion.

Greybull, I am told, has the biggest bentonite mines in the world. I don't know what bentonite really is, but I am told it is very important and has lots of uses, among which are for drilling mud (???)  and making walls. Someone also told me it is in chocolate.

I await your thoughtful answers.

Worship in Shoshoni , followed by buffalo September 13, 2015

I worshipped this morning with the small congregation in Shoshoni. There were thirteen of us altogether. Joe Norris  is ending his term as the Commissioned Ruling Elder. (Presbyterian ministers are technically called Teaching Elders. Members of the congregation who are elected to the session, the congregation's governing body, are called Ruling Elders. Occasionally, when  a church can not support a Teaching Elder, a Ruling Elder is given special training and is commissioned  to lead  the congregation in worship: i.e., s/he is a Commissioned Ruling Elder. Such is Joe.) I was privileged to worship with them during one of his  final services. Joe has a very quiet and dignified way of leading worship. The small congregation sings well (a pianist from the Baptist church worships with them every week), and the service is traditional Presbyterian. This means they say the traditional version of the Apostles' Creed, use debts instead of  trespasses, and are in general, not attuned to the importance of gender neutral language. I am old enough to find the familiar words easy to say and  do not take umbrage. I understand that other people may prefer more inclusive  language. But this is seldom a great issue in a congregation. Still, more traditional congregations generally use more traditional language.

This congregation also sang hymns from the older (1955) hymn book. It had been a long  time since I sang "Wonderful Words of Life."

After worship, the  entire congregation sat around a large table for coffee and  peach cobbler, with ice cream What more can one ask?

The drive  from Shoshoni to Greybull, where I am now, was spectacular.  There have been very few drives in my itinerary that have not been  spectacular. Spectacular is the Wyoming normal.  I know that I annoy other drivers by poking along at 60 miles an hour, trying  to watch the road while I watch the scenery.

I  stopped in Thermopolis to have a look at Hot Springs State Park, home of the  largest mineral hot springs in the world, they say. It was part of the Shoshone reservation until early in  this century, and had served as a sacred spot for them, until it was purchased by the US Government for $60,000. Chef Washakie had carved out his own bathtub there. Part of the purchase agreement was that the springs would always be open to everyone for free. I forwent soaking, but I did a lot of walking, buoyed by the invigorating smell of sulfur.Then  I took a drive in the bison preserve ("Buffalo are dangerous" the sign says) where I got as close to a buffalo as I ever want to. You will see from this picture how close. I took the picture from the safety of my car.

There was a whole herd of them, including calves, behind this one.

Now I am ensconced in the Historic Greybull Hotel, and I will visit the Greybull and Shell churches tomorrow.

Wind River Reservation - September 12, 2015

Today was a free day, so I chose to spend a good portion of it driving along some of the mainly empty highways that run through the vast Wind  River Indian Reservation, which covers as much territory as the state of Delaware. As I explained yesterday, it was created as an Eastern Shoshone reservation in 1868, but the Northern Arapahoe were also forced onto the  same reservation as a temporary measure that has endured. The two tribes were historic enemies. I was advised to stay on the main highways as I crossed the reservation, which I did.The landscape is often stark and beautiful, but there are also acres of  irrigated crops.The towns like Pavilion and Fort Washakie (named for the revered Shoshone chief who helped keep peace between Indians and settlers) are neat. A monument in  Fort Washakie says that Sacajawea is buried nearby. Housing looks very much like housing in other small Wyoming towns. However, tensions and poverty persist on the reservation. Competing casinos run by the  two tribes exist at the edge of the reservation.

One thing you can  say about Presbyterians is that they do not gamble. They know the odds! But, encouraged by the kind owner of my motel, I stopped for lunch at the Shoshone owned Shoshone Rose Casino. Nice meal, nicely served, reasonable price. It was not crowded.

My observations on  the Reservation were very limited. There have been articles that characterize the Wind River Reservation as particularly troubled. However, for most of the tourists speeding through to Yellowstone on Highway 26, the only impression is beauty.

There is a Presbyterian Church in Riverton, the largest  town adjacent to the reservation. Riverton  was once part of the reservation, but its territory was "ceded" to the  settlers years ago. I will meet the pastor there at the presbytery meeting in Powell next week.

Shoshoni September 11, 2015

I have spent today in  Shoshoni and Thermopolis, visiting with the pastor of  each church. Shoshoni is a very small town, and the church congregation is small and elderly. (See the picture of the building below). The pastor, Joe Norris, says that the 12 members of the church "are just happy to still be here." Joe is retiring this month after nine years of constant pulpit supply, following upon his previous retirement from a Navy career. He has grown very attached to this congregation - one of the few where the average Sunday attendance of  12-18 exceeds the church membership of 12. The church, the oldest in this town of 600, is well maintained and inviting. There are also a Mormon church and Baptist Church in town.Their congregations are somewhat larger.

The church in  Thermopolis, a town of 3000, is larger. It is a federated Presbyterian-Methodist Church, and has been so since 1921. The current pastor, a retired Methodist minister, is anything but retired. The church has three services every Sunday - each different in style and content. It boasts an active youth  program, music program,theater program -  as well as being  heavily involved in  community activities.

The road that connects Shoshoni and Thermopolis runs  through the beautiful Wind River Canyon - most of  which is part of the Wind River Indian Reservation. The canyon is spectacular, and it is easy to see why it is considered sacred in native American tradition. The Wind River Indian Reservation  is very large, and it is now home to Shoshone and Arapaho, two tribes, I am told, with historic hostility toward each other. The two tribes were forced by the US government to inhabit a single reservation on a supposed temporary basis 125 years ago. I have learned that there is little interaction between the reservation communities and the towns surrounding it, although the Arapaho have constructed a casino in Riverton. As we learned from Longmire, the tensions about jurisdiction are still alive, not only between Caucasians and native Americans, but between the two tribes. Memory is long and  deep. 

The South Pass, Wyoming on My Mind - September 10, 2015

Today I drove from Alpine, near Jackson, southwest, over the South Pass, through Lander and Riverton to Shoshoni, where I have found another charming motel. The Desert Inn, it's called. The South Pass was "discovered"in  1812, when a trapper named Robert Stuart was escorted to it by an Indian. This pass through the Rockies was totally unknown to white people. Its discovery was essential for the westward expansion. All of the overland trails came through it, and then  dispersed to Oregon or California or Salt Lake  City. Though it  is surrounded by mountains, the pass itself is so subtle that pioneers were not  sure they had  actually crossed over the continental divide. But they had.

The drive from Alpine was characteristically beautiful. Majestic mountains, amazing prairies. I stumbled upon a radio station that alternately played sentimental hymns and  sentimental western songs. I confess I was taken by "Wyoming on  My Mind." No pictures today, but have a listen to the song, if you can.

Wyoming on My Mind

I was very  melancholy today, having just learned of the death by suicide of a dear student friend, whom I have been talking with regularly for several years. I was among the last persons to speak tohim. He read this blog every day. The sadnessis unspeakable. He would have liked this song. It's for him. I will miss him very much.

Yellowstone - September 9, 2015

I was fortunate to be able to spend today in Yellowstone Park with Bruce and Nancy Hunt, friends from Alabama who by happenstance and arrangement were in the area today. Yellowstone reveals its beauty slowly. The first twenty miles into the park from the south are only roadway lined by dense evergreen trees. Then the terrain becomes beautiful. We caught Old Faithful just as it spewed; two minues later and we would have missed it. We saw a few buffalo; no bears. Our favorite part was the Yellowstone River canyon. We took many pictures. I share only one, taken by Nancy. 

Jackson Hole - at last! September 8, 2015

It was a beautiful, wonderfully clear clear morning as I drove from Alpine to Jackson this morning, up through the Snake River Canyon. The mountains all along the way, and especially as one approaches Jackson, are majestic. Jackson itself  is a tourist/resort town, with all that implies. After some effort, I found a parking place and began my customary walk around. I pretty much saw Jackson by walking five blocks  in each direction  from the square (pictured below). It reminds me of Bar Harbor and other places like that, with mountains instead of ocean. Many people with cameras walking around. Lots of shoppy shoppies. Galleries galore (who buys?). Still, it was interesting to walk around. Highlights for me: an exceptional thrift shop connected to the  Episcopal church (it's adjacent to the Episcopal church; the best thrift shop I've seen in a while; definitely make a stop there if you go), where I picked up a brand new copy of John Updike's last book of short stories, which will keep me  company for  the  rest of my trip. I was also impressed by Moos ice cream shop. Delicious cone of Swiss white chocolate hazelnut. One scoop - $3.95. But come on, it's Jackson Hole!  - You can see Moos through the antler arch on the square in the photo here.

In the afternoon, I met with  Ben Pascal, the 38 year-old senior pastor of the  Presbyterian Church of Jackson Hole. This is a new church, fonded in 1994, with a modern building constructed in 2000 and doubled in 2008. The church  building itself says: non-traditional, mega-church influenced, trendy, evangelical. No organ, but piano, drums and other instruments,  Large jumbo-tron screens at the front. No hymnals. Very friendly. Large staff. I must have been greeted and  asked if  I needed help by at least five people. Very large parking lot. Great location,  across the street from the junior high. (see picture below).

The Church has become, I am told, the community church of Jackson, with outreach far exceeding its 400 members. Like Jackson Hole itself, which I was told is listed as among the richest per capita income towns in the nation, the church is very prosperous. Jackson is one of the more politically liberal towns in Wyoming, and the congregation is politically diverse. The  sense of being a Presbyterian Church is fairly weak. While the session  is aware of the  controversial decisions  of the  General Assembly regarding marriage and divestment, there has been little discussion of  these issues in the congregation. I got the impression that their very popular young pastor, who first came to Jackson Hole to ski and stayed to do youth work in this church before he went to seminary and returned as a pastor, will have to cross those bridges eventually, but there is no pressure for him to do so now.

I can see why many people like this church. It has a more traditional service on  Sundays at 8 AM for those who want "no frills so they can get to the hills",  and a more contemporary service (i.e., drums and amplified music) at 10:15.  It's about as "with it" as Presbyterians get.

The Other Side of the Mountain - September 7, 2015

Today, being Labor Day, was a holiday. I had no appointments. My new motel, where I will reside for the next three days, is in Alpine, Wyoming, which is 35  miles southwest of Jackson, on the Idaho border. (Price, $65 per night, as opposed to $200 in Jackson.) I had a choice: should I spend the day in looking around in Jackson, with all the rest of humanity, or should  I strike out for Idaho Falls - a place likely to be less crowded? Since  I will be in Jackson for the next two days, when I hope the crowds will have thinned, I decided to go to Idaho Falls. Granted, it's not in Wyoming, but what the heck. 

I am very happy with my decision. Idaho is the other side of the mountain. It's looking at the Grand  Tetons from  the west rather than from the east, And, guess what? They are spectacular from both sides. Idaho's mountains are just as impressive  as Wyoming's, and Idaho's countryside is equally beautiful and uncrowded.  

Idaho Falls, a city of 50,000 was lovely. Downtown, where I went, was empty - because of the holiday, I suppose - whereas  Jackson would have been even more crowded. I was able to walk along the green way on both sides of the Snake River - a significant river, I might add - and to see the falls. Here's a picture. The spire in the background is from the Mormon Temple in Idaho Falls. (Mormons have churches everywhere,which are open  to everyone; they have temples in only a few places, which  are open only to Mormons in good standing.)

So, the bear went over the mountain to see what he  could see. And what did he see? The other side of the mountain. A lovely trip.

You might well ask, what is this thing you have with crowds? I don't fully know, But I do know  that Carolyn told me, in her strict voice, on the phone the  other day, as I griped about the anticipated crowds in Jackson and the Tetons and Yellowstone: 
"Richard, try to like what everyone else likes, for once."

I have meditated on her instructions, but then have realized  that, if I liked what everyone else likes,  I would not be a Presbyterian.

A growing church - for a change - Sept. 6, 2015

I attended worship this morning at the Star Valley United Church (Lutheran and Presbyterian). Although Pastor Al Schoonover had told me on  Friday that the church was growing, I was nonetheless surprised by its vitality. I would estimate that there were 80 people present -  in this Mormon town of 400 people. The congregation, as usual, received me very warmly, and many people were eager to talk in what was a very wonderful coffee hour. (I have observed that the vitality of a church congregation is directly proportional to the quality of refreshments at its coffee hour. This one was superb. Cake,  coffee, fruit,and cheese nachos! Deliver me from the coffee hours with tepid coffee and oreos.) - What they wanted to talk about was the weather (cold snap, frost on the windshields this morning), football scores (Alabama beat Wisconsin, to Pastor Schoonover's sorrow; Brigham Young beat Nebraska, to everyone's sorrow; the Broncos won by one point; what happened  to Tebow?), people they knew on the east coast, what it is like living in a Mormon town, and, supremely and uniformly, the growth of this church under the leadership of  Pastor Schoonover. 

The worship service itself was more Lutheran than Presbyterian - that is to say, it was more liturgical. than most Presbyterian services, but it was also extremely warm. Pastor Schoonover's 47 years of pastoral experience showed. The liturgy, while extensive, is folksy and informal. His sermon, preached extempore, managed to turn the difficult passage of Jesus' encounter with the Syrophoenician woman, where it appears that Jesus is equating gentiles with dogs, to an encounter with a persistent woman who was like a bulldog in her concern for her daughter. (Mark 7:24 ff.) The take away was that a crumb of God's mercy is all that is required. Illustrated by stories from his experience, it was a moving sermon. And people ate it  up. A warm sermon, folksy hymns, an inclusive and open liturgy, and a great coffee hour: the congregation has doubled, they tell me, in the last year. There's something to learn here.

I mostly have pictures of mountains, now. But here's one of the sunset last night, behind my motel. Blessings.

The Climate (and not just the weathher) - Septembber 6, 2015

I awoke this morning to a very dramatic thunderstorm, with the wonderful sound of heavy rain on the tin roof covering of my motel walkway. Very nice. Unfortunately, the day remained mostly cloudy, with low dark clouds all day, broken by patches of sunshine. There has also been a dramatic 20 degree drop in temperature, with freezing temperatures in some areas predicted tonight, and snow in the upper terrains of the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. More moderate temperatures are predicted mid week- after the Labor Day crowds have left.  Since this was a free day, I started off mid-morning to explore the territory, but  turned back when it began to rain and hail again. Later, when the sun reappeared,  I had more beautiful drives, past the Palisades in Idaho, to Victor and Driggs, over the  mountains and into Jackson, (about which I will have much more to say in a couple of days), and back to Thayne. Nothing exciting, except constant beauty marred only by the Labor Day crowds in Jackson.

As I have mentioned, most of the  small towns in this area of Wyoming and Idaho are heavily Mormon. The sign below, from a log cabin up the road, in Etna, is intriguing. It seems that the house was built by mother and daughter. Then the husband appears and then there are 12 children. I don't think the sign tells the whole story.


Last night I turned on the television in my small motel room (Snider's  Rustic Inn, Thayne, adjacent to Juan's Taco House, which the motel owners also run). The TV gets 100 + channels. Something  to do on winter nights, I suppose.  Anyway, as I flipped through, I came upon a program, coming from a station in Salt Lake, entitled something like  Ex-Mormon Files. It consists, I found out, of an ex-Mormon interviewing another ex-Mormon. I found this surprising. It seems to feature Mormons who have converted to Evangelical Christianity, from what I could tell. This makes me wonder how a program called Ex-Christian Files would be  received in the  Colorado Springs area, or in Birmingham, Alabama. Or Ex-Catholic Files in Rome. Or ex-Muslim files in Riyadh.- I guess it's pretty good  that we can have shows like this broadcast without restriction.

One thing I am pretty sure of: Ex-Presbyterian files would be boring.

Mountains Beyond Mountains - September 4, 2015

As I traveled from Evanston, north on the Scenic Byway that straddles the Wyoming/Utah/ Idaho borders and approaches Jackson and  the Grand Tetons, the scenery got more and more spectacular. What is to say, except that these are beautiful mountains, but not all beautiful in the same way? I am now in the little town of Thayne, where I met with the pastor of the Star Valley United Church (Lutheran and Presbyterian). Al Schoonover is a wonderfully experienced pastor, who after retirement from a very active ministry in large Lutheran churches, has become the part-time pastor of this small but vital church. Al is an interesting man, having played on the University of Wisconsin  football team in the nineteen-fifties.We noted that Wisconsin and Alabama open their seasons tomorrow night by playing each other for the first time ever. I was so impressed by Al's description of the vitality of this church that I have decided to stay here until Sunday morning, so that I can worship with them.

The football season begins, and, out of loyalty  to my Alabama family, I have always followed Alabama football - even as a child - as unlikely as that seems to those of you who know me. I really had no choice. As Al and I talked about this first meeting between Alabama and Wisconsin, I recall watching the Bear Bryant show on television every Monday (I think), where Bear would show a film of the previous game and comment on it. I recall on one occasion he mentioned that, as a member of the Southeastern conference, the University of Alabama was prohibited from playing any opponent which had black team-members. He said this sadly, because it prevented his playing some of the nation's premier teams. Well, that was a long time ago, but not that long. Bear lived to see that rule changed. Indeed, he  had a part in changing  it. And  while watching the display of traditional "beauties" in the cheering section these days shows that the the university still has a way to go, the team now depends on its black players.

This is just an aside - a meditation on change. Which is one  of the main things this church tour in Wyoming is all about.

For your enjoyment: a picture of the Bridger Mountains and the Star Valley United Church building.

Wasatch Mountains - September 3, 2015

Today, since I was at leisure with no appointments, after doing my laundry etc, I returned to yesterday's coffee shop, where I had a great lunch, The owner welcomed me back, recalling that I was there yesterday with the Presbyterian minister. At her suggestion, I took a rather long but extremely beautiful ride down a road labelled "Scenic Byway" leading out of Wyoming and into the Wasatch National Forest just across the border in Utah. Stunningly beautiful mountains - all different. I am not tired of seeing them. I returned to Evanston on a section of I-80 that should itself be labelled scenic. Gorgeous is what it was.

Here are a couple of pictures, very inadequate, but to give you a flavor. Tomorrow I head north, toward Wyoming's treasures - Jackson Hole, The Grand  Tetons, and Yellowstone - where things get more crowded and more expensive! The Presbyterian church at Thayne is my first stop.

More Evanston - September 2, 2015

This morning  I spoke with the pastor of the Presbyterian Church in Evanston, over coffee in a delightful coffee cafe  - bookstore - antique shop on main street. Larry Turpin has been here only a year, having moved here from Chicago where he went to seminary and pastored churches for many  years. He is an experienced pastor who has come  to a very  different environment from Chicago. The congregation here is small, attendance ranging from  18 to 80. Larry has been very active in social justice causes in Chicago. It will be a challenge for him, I think, to bring that same perspective to his ministry here. As so many have told me, Wyomians do not like to  talk about conflict. They would rather ignore it. This may be true in most places,  but it is noticeably true here: it has been noted in all the conversations I have had so far. Larry also made another interesting observation:  he said that, in his experience, theology matters very little to a congregation, but worship style matters a lot. And a very important part of worship style is music. It's no wonder that the earliest Presbyterian controversies were over whether hymns should be sung, or just psalms, and then over whether or not instruments should be used in worship. I think everyone  is pretty much ok now with hymns and organs, but there is passionate division about guitars and praise songs. Part of the division is generational, but not all of it.

I spent part of the  afternoon in Kemmerer,Wyoming, which boasts the world's largest open-pit coal mine, I was told. They are worried that restrictions on carbon emissions will  hurt their economy. No fans  of  the President there  either. But its major attraction is the home of J. C. Penny, and the original "mother store". Really. J. C. Penny started his chain in Kemmerer, Wyoming. Two more interesting tidbits: His father was a Baptist minister. And his full name is James Cash Penney. Really.

Here are the picture; store and house 1902

Evanston and Mountain View - September 1, 2015

I am spending a couple of days in Evanston, a town of about 12,000 souls in the  extreme southwest corner of Wyoming. Tomorrow  I have an appointment with the Evanston pastor. 

A couple of interesting things happened today. As is my custom, I parked downtown (no parking meters in Wyoming, and always a parking place!) and just set out, walking the interesting-looking streets. Evanston is the county seat of Uinta county. Right, I did not know how to pronouce it either. So, rather than persisting in ignorance, when I passed the very impressive public library, I went in, found a lady sitting at the desk in the children's room, and asked her (knowing that she had faced dumber questions), how do I pronounce Uinta?. Like a good librarian, she smiled and told me: U-IN-ta - the name of an Indian tribe. Encouraged, I ventured another question: did she know where the local Presbyterian church was. She smiled and said, yes, indeed, she did, since she is an elder in  that church. What a good librarian! Remember, this was the only person I spoke to all morning. And she was a Presbyterian elder - people scarcer than hen's teeth in these parts. Doesn't that make you believe  in providence or predestination or something?

So then I went to the Uinta County museum, which is in the old Carnegie public library. (Picture attached.) 

In their small but interesting historical exhibits, I found two notable things. I will have to illustrate the signs with photos. Maybe you can read them if you enlarge them. Sorry. In an exhbit on the rise of motor vehicles, there was this sign about the first (known) trans-continental autmobile trip, in 1903. Read the sign - and  what do you discover. The mechanic on board was a Crocker, no doubt one of  my relatives. It's how I got my love of road trips - minus the mechanical ability.

This elation was counterbalanced by another exhibit, on a famous early murder in town.. Read the sign and you will see that the accused but acquitted murderer was also one of my relatives. Had to be.

I asked to check the telephone directory on my way out. There are no Crockers in Evanston now.


And, most astounding, in an exhibit on the Lincoln Highway, the first transcontinental  highway, completed in 1913, there was an old map, compiled later, of all the early national highways. Look closely at this picture, and you will see the map of Alabama, featuring my hometown of Thomaston, a village of at present 400 people. However did it get on the map?

This afternoon I visited  a small church in Mountain View, a town of 1900 people, 35 miles away, ninety percent of whom are Mormon. A simple well-kept facility, but not enough money to pay a pastor. All older. The younger people have been drawn to a non-denominational "Gateway Community Church.". So, in the absence of a Presbyterian pastor, the Assembly of God pastor comes over  every Sunday to lead their worship. Now, that's ecumenicism.