Today I had two experiences: one bright, one dark.The bright one occurred when I visited the United Presbyterian Church of Laramie, adjacent to the beautiful campus of the University of Wyoming, where I had a good conversation with the pastor, Jason Harshberger. The church building, built in the 1950's, has been renovated nicely, to allow for more flexible use.
The congregation, which numbers about 180, has many ties to the university and the community. Jason is himself a native of Wyoming and a graduate of its university. He went to seminary in Chicago and served a church there before returning to Laramie. The church has invested heavily in children's, youth, student, and family programs, with some success. As might be expected in a college community, the controversial issues of the PCUSA have not caused a great deal of turmoil in this congregation. Nonetheless, some older and previously loyal members have withdrawn their support. Even so, this church seems vital.
The dark experience concerned the legacy of Matthew Shepard. Jason was a student at the University when the murder occurred. Like everyone, he was horrified. Still, he reported, many people in Wyoming and in Laramie especially felt that the press reports portrayed an essentially negative view of the entire community. As someone who lived in Alabama during the civil rights struggle, I understand that feeling of protectiveness - the dismay of feeling that your whole community has been blamed for the actions that, while disgraceful, did not characterize the whole community. At the suggestion of a friend, I tried to find the lonely spot where Shepard was killed - where he was left to die. It is hard to do. Still , with some computer research, I did locate it. What was mainly barren territory in 1998 is now partially suburbanized. The precise spot carries no monument. The fence has been taken away. Very nice homes are now visible in the area. Homeowners are understandably reluctant to have the site become a site of pilgrimage. Still, this is where it happened, and the feeling of darkness can not be ignored..There is a memorial bench for Matthew on the campus of the university.
I had a beautiful drive from Cheyenne to Laramie on Happy Jack Road, avoiding the interstate. Laramie is very much a college town, home of University of Wyoming, and classes start on Monday - so the town is full of returning students. You know you are in a college town when you see a sign like this on a coffee shop door:
I spent several pleasurable hours walking around the downtown area and the university. Then I went to the Wyoming Territorial Prison, a state historic site just outside of town, very well restored and quite interesting to tour. Its specific claim to fame is that it is the only prison that ever housed Butch Cassidy, where he was incarcerated for 18 months in mid-career. He was released when he promised the governor that he would commit no more crimes in Wyoming - a promise which gave him a great deal of wiggle room. As far as we know, he kept that promise.
Contrary to the movie, which ends with Butch and the Sundance Kid being killed in a shoot out in South America, the prison displays a letter from his sister claiming that Butch came home, apologized to his family, and lived out his life as a sheep herder.
Tomorrow back to church thoughts.
Today is my last day in Cheyenne. I tried to visit the museum at Warren Air Force Base, a home of America's Inter-Continental Ballistic Missiles force, but I was not allowed on the base due to heightened security. They would have let me in if I could have found someone on the base who would be responsible for me. I drew a blank. I did get the attached picture at the entrance.
This is the story that I was told yesterday by a long-time elder at First Presbyterian Church.
During World War II, Warren was a Prisoner of War camp for captured Italian and German soldiers. Security was not especially tight. The prisoners were allowed to come to church and to do some work for people in town. One German prisoner was especially close to a camp commander, who was a member of First Church. The prisoner sometimes came to church with him.
After the war, the former-prisoner was repatriated to East Germany, from whence he somehow made his way to West Germany, and thence to the United States, and thence back to Cheyenne. He and his German wife lived in Cheyenne for many years, where through industry and skill they bought and renovated houses. Later, they moved to Florida, where he died, and, recently, his wife also died. They had no children. The widow left First Presbyterian Church of Cheyenne a multi-million dollar bequest.
which was just received and finalized this summer.
What do you make of that?
I spent much of the morning at the First Presbyterian Church of Cheyenne, and much of the afternoon with the First Presbyterian Church of Burns. The two churches could hardly be more different.
The Cheyenne Church is the epitome of establishment. It occupies a large beautiful stone edifice only a block away from the Wyoming capitol, and adjoins the Wyoming Supreme Court. It has a gorgeous sanctuary, 500 members, and an extensive staff. It is one of the oldest churches in Cheyenne, and, if truth be told, one of the wealthiest. As usual, my welcome there was extremely warm. The pastor and elder with whom I met provided accounts of the rich history of the church. The theological tone is quite moderate. They have had a few disgruntled members over the years, some leaving because of personal issues, and some theological. A few have left for more liberal milieus, and a few have left for more conservative ones. The controversial decisions of the PCUSA are rarely discussed. The pastors have not yet had a request to perform a gay marriage. They will cross that bridge when they come to it. This is the church where people have a deeper commitment to civility than to being right. I felt very comfortable there.
The First Presbyterian Church of Burns is 30 miles east of Cheyenne in a very small, rural community. The streets are not paved.There is a regional high school there that draws students from a wide area. The church is in an attractive, well-maintained facility, with a new multi-media audio-visual system. It has a membership of 27 and an average attendance of about 20. I met with the pastor and with their entire session (governing body). The people were warm-hearted and welcoming, and we laughed a lot at their good-natured jokes about liberals. This church is, they say, composed of like-minded people who are all "conservative Christians." They are deeply saddened and grieved about the secular direction of our culture and the accommodation of the PCUSA to that culture. They believe that the church should lead the nation/community toward righteousness, rather than accommodating to its worldliness. They are deeply opposed to any church sanctioning of homosexual relationships, because it goes against what the Bible says "in black and white." One person fears that the Bibles sold in the future will omit certain passages and change certain words to make it more palatable to a degenerate culture. Similarly, they were deeply distressed about the PCUSA General Assembly's decision to divest from several companies that are deemed complicit with the destruction of Palestinian communities. They see the church as becoming anti-Semitic. The Bible says, they say (and they are right - see Genesis 12:3 for instance) that those who bless Israel will be blessed, and those who curse Israel will be cursed. They see America as now being cursed because of our supposed abandonment of Israel. Interestingly, one person said that, to be consistent, if we insist that Israel should return land to the Palestinians, then the US should give back all the land it took from the Indian nations. But these people, who could probably tell that I was not in agreement with their position, were personally very warm to me, and they insisted that, in any written report, I should make it plain that they love everyone.
These two churches represent the great conflict and divide, not only in Wyoming Presbyterianism, but in American Protestantism - indeed, one might even say, in American Christianity.They spring from very different ways of interpreting the Bible. The opposing positions are held by good and earnest people. But their beliefs and opinions seem irreconcilable.
Today I made contact with Pastor Yoon Kak Cho of Cheyenne's Korean Presbyterian Church, and we met for a while at their building. Pastor Cho was born in Seoul, came to Canada as an adult, and then to the US, where he has been a pastor in Portalnd Oregon, and now Cheyenne. The Presbyterian Church has had a long, enduring, and strong missionary connection with Korea, and many American Koreans are Presbyterian. There is, perhaps, a similarity between Calvinism and Korean culture.
The Cheyenne congregation is small - about 40 people maximum, he says, at a picnic. Winter services are smaller! Pastor Cho estimates that the total Korean population of Cheyenne is about 100, many of whom are women who are wives of American Air Force veterans. (Warren Air Force Base is in Cheyenne.)
Pastor Cho said that the National Council of Korean Presbyterian Churches recently issued a statement saying that although the PCUSA has recently approved permitting the ordination of gay people and also permitting same sex marriage, the Council has unanimously stated that the Korean Churches will not do either one. Since the PCUSA ruling was permissive rather than prescriptive, the churches have that right. Pastor Cho said that, without such a statement, which was broadcast to the entire Korean-American community through its newspapers, the Korean churches would most likely withdraw from the PCUSA denomination. Koreans, he said, are more conservative, and he perceives no willingness in their churches to accept or embrace this change, either in his congregation or in the Korean churches as a whole. If they are allowed to exempt themselves from this permissive ruling, they can stay as loyal members of the PCUSA. Other than that ruling, he says, we are Presbyterians.
The Diamond Horseshoe Restaurant
I decided to attend the small Highlands Presbyterian Church in Cheyenne this morning, instead of the larger downtown First Church, thinking that I would probably find a depressed congregation. I was right to attend, and I was wrong about what I would find. It is indeed a small congregation (about 30 worshippers today), but it is alive and well in all ways. The newly renovated building is lovely. The people were exceptionally warm and friendly. The worship service was well-designed and very engaging. The "interim pastor", who has been there nine years now, is remarkable. His name is Rodger McDaniel. He is almost my age. He is a lawyer as well as a seminary graduate, and he is a Disciples of Christ minister happily serving this small Presbyterian church. He served in the state legislature.He is an attorney. He ran an unsuccessful campaign (as a Democrat) for the US Senate in 1982. He was head of the State Department of Family Services and Mental Health. He writes a weekly column for the local newspaper. This is an avowedly progressive congregation, yet one of the regular attendees is a Reagan appointed federal judge.
Ironically, I was told that this congregation was formed by persons who split off from First Presbyterian Church almost fifty years ago when the national church made a donation to the Angela Davis defense fund. For those of you who are younger and unfamiliar, Angela Davis is a person who was considered a radical civil rights activist, who was a member of the American Communist Party, who was arrested, charged and tried for conspiracy in the armed take-over of a California court room in 1970, in which four people died. She was acquitted. At that time, he PCUSA was split between northern and southern branches; the northern church made the donation to her defense fund. This contribution led to great protest in the church, even though she was acquitted. (One might draw from that fact that we did the right thing in contributing to her defense.) The issue is still controversial to this day, and I hear repeated complaints about it. So it is ironic that this now-progressive church in Cheyenne owes its founding to people who were upset by the church's contribution to her defense.
What this shows, I conclude, is that turmoil in the church can produce unexpected results. And, for Presbyterians, this is a testimony to the providence of God.
Today was a quiet day, with no appointments. I slept very well in my room at the Round Up Motel, which the office lady tells me was built in the 1940's. It's quaint and retro, with far more character that the more expensive brands! I have everything I need. And the office lady also pointed me to the nearby Diamond Horseshoe Cafe for a delightful breakfast. The motel is directly across the street from a very large compound called The Outlaw Saloon. I am sure I would find it educational to inspect that establishment, but, despite its possible educational value, it is not to my taste.
I used the free morning to go to the Wyoming State Museum, adjacent to the rather magnificent gold-domed state capitol. It's a good historical museum, illuminating special events in Wyoming history, beginning, it seems, with the creation. I was pleased that, in their section devoted to more recent history, they displayed a prominent photo memorial to Matthew Shepard.
After the museum I walked around the city, and it was a nice moment when I heard, in the near distance, a church bell striking the noon hour, followed by a carillon rendition of "Faith of Our Fathers" (or, as it is now often called, "Faith of Our Forebears"). It was especially a nice moment when I approached the imposing stone church and discovered that it was the First Presbyterian Church of Cheyenne - built, according to the cornerstone - in 1923, and, I am sure, much too large for its present congregation. Still, it's nice.
Tomorrow I will not attend worship there. Instead, I will go to the Highlands Presbyterian Church, a small congregation in another section of the city. Cheyenne is, of course, Wyoming's largest city, and there are three Presbyterian churches here: First, Highlands, and Korean. I will make contact with all of them.
One other interesting moment: at the very grandly restored Union Pacific train terminal, now a museum, a British couple were inquiring whether passengers still used this terminal. When they were told there was no passenger train service to Cheyenne anymore, they registered shock, and the lady exclaimed,"But they have all that track!" Dennis O'Brien once wrote a book, called, I think: God and the New Haven Railroad, and Why Neither is Doing Very Well." I could not help but think of it.
