We were a small group at Discussion time this week, but that doesn’t mean we don’t talk about big subjects. This week it was History.
What is history? When does it start? When does it end? Does it end, really, ever? Why all of us participating in the conversation were alive for the entire Volume III of the latest version of official church “history.” Does our story count as history or is it just memories that may or may not be recorded anywhere? When do we pick up the thread of history and just add more story? And how will our memories become part of the history if we don’t share the story? So many questions.
While I was thinking about all this (Note; the discussion never ends when we walk out the door.) I remembered a bit of recent history. something that possibly I am the only one who remembers.
Some years ago I was part of the Mission Centre staff and we were dealing with the need to reorganize the various reunions. Volunteer help and resources had begun to dwindle and it just wasn’t practical or even possible to operate three big traditional family camps for the three former districts that used the Ziontario property. This was going to be a big change and there was going to be pushback.
Two of us (one other who may remember this too) were on one of those long car rides together. We did a lot of important work on those rides. This one, I think, qualifies as “historic.” For miles and miles we imagined and envisioned what it would be like if we stopped calling the reunions by the geographic names and instead created two events with different characteristics. They would still be true to the nature of reunion but they would emphasize different things.
One would be most like the camps we knew and knew how to plan and support. Lots of families with lots of kids and schedules full of familiar activities like worship and classes and volleyball and canteen and campfires and visiting around the trailers and under the trees. Many people wanted this kind of camp and they came to be fed, like to crowds who came to Jesus.
The other one would also feed the people who came. But this reunion would fucus more on the individual, the tired or traumatized or the burned out, the ones most interested in reflection, meditation, spiritual renewal. Oh there would still be support with sympathetic ministry and fun, but the campfires and morning meditations might have a quieter tone, might even be completely silent, except for the sounds of nature.
People would choose according to their needs. Some might do both or alternate years. But their choices would reflect something other than their geography.
The names of the two events came out of the scripture rather than off the map. And “Loaves and Fishes” and “Healing and Freeing the Spirit” were born. Driving down the road unwinding the story of history.
What is history? When does it start? When does it end? Does it end, really, ever? Why all of us participating in the conversation were alive for the entire Volume III of the latest version of official church “history.” Does our story count as history or is it just memories that may or may not be recorded anywhere? When do we pick up the thread of history and just add more story? And how will our memories become part of the history if we don’t share the story? So many questions.
While I was thinking about all this (Note; the discussion never ends when we walk out the door.) I remembered a bit of recent history. something that possibly I am the only one who remembers.
Some years ago I was part of the Mission Centre staff and we were dealing with the need to reorganize the various reunions. Volunteer help and resources had begun to dwindle and it just wasn’t practical or even possible to operate three big traditional family camps for the three former districts that used the Ziontario property. This was going to be a big change and there was going to be pushback.
Two of us (one other who may remember this too) were on one of those long car rides together. We did a lot of important work on those rides. This one, I think, qualifies as “historic.” For miles and miles we imagined and envisioned what it would be like if we stopped calling the reunions by the geographic names and instead created two events with different characteristics. They would still be true to the nature of reunion but they would emphasize different things.
One would be most like the camps we knew and knew how to plan and support. Lots of families with lots of kids and schedules full of familiar activities like worship and classes and volleyball and canteen and campfires and visiting around the trailers and under the trees. Many people wanted this kind of camp and they came to be fed, like to crowds who came to Jesus.
The other one would also feed the people who came. But this reunion would fucus more on the individual, the tired or traumatized or the burned out, the ones most interested in reflection, meditation, spiritual renewal. Oh there would still be support with sympathetic ministry and fun, but the campfires and morning meditations might have a quieter tone, might even be completely silent, except for the sounds of nature.
People would choose according to their needs. Some might do both or alternate years. But their choices would reflect something other than their geography.
The names of the two events came out of the scripture rather than off the map. And “Loaves and Fishes” and “Healing and Freeing the Spirit” were born. Driving down the road unwinding the story of history.
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