John Branson's Weekly Encouragement August 31, 2020

Readers of the E-pistle this summer of 2020 will note the time we have given to poetry this August. In so doing, we have hoped to “spark” an interest in “reading between the lines”: seeing, sensing, embracing depths within the poems not otherwise revealed if one simply skims the surface. This exercise provides a parallel to the reading of scripture. Scripture is full of marvelous, often intricate stories requiring imagination to decipher and understand. Some of us choose to skim the stories, unaware of the depths of meaning therein. We assume that these stories, sayings and parables have little relevance to our contemporary, everyday lives. Like poetry, (similarly thought of as abstruse and irrelevant) those who spend time intentionally praying, reflecting and pondering these words in the company of others find them full of fire and light, radiating warmth and wisdom we otherwise would never know.

What follows is a brief story by Rueben P. Job. It will serve as our first reading for our last worship at Emmanuel, September 6^th, this unusual summer of 2020. Grappling with the pandemic that has changed lives all over the world, we invite you to “see yourself” in this account of prairie life in the Depression of the 1930s.Are we willing, like Rueben’s father, to do what is necessary in this strange time--to climb the dangerous tower, to turn the wheel to the Spirit’s power, to assist the fan’s turning by our own effort and will? Much lies ahead for Emmanuel in years to come. Will we be thought of as saints who did our part in this strange time positioning ourselves in every way possible to appropriate the life-giving Spirit of God?

Watches in the Night, by Rueben P. Job

I grew up on a farm on the North Dakota prairie that was gripped by great economic depression and the climate extremes of the dust bowl years. During that period abandoned farms seemed to be everywhere on the rolling hills of many of the Great Plains states. Many of our neighbors were forced to give up their land and their homes but some families remained and were able to raise enough food to survive. Our family was one of those fortunate ones that had a deep well that did not run dry. This deep well was pumped by a windmill with an eight-foot wheel mounted on a tall tower. The power of the wind lifted fresh and cold water from within the earth, sustaining a large garden, trees, livestock, and of course, our family.

When the wind was strong it pushed the giant wheel into position to receive the full power needed to lift the water from deep in the earth. When turned into the wind even a light breeze would pump water. But when the wind was just a gentle whisper it was not strong enough position the wheel so it could catch the full force required to pump water from underground. On such days I would watch my father climb the tall tower and turn the wheel until it faced the wind and then pull on the fans until they caught enough of the breeze to continue pumping that life-giving water.

The saints who have gone before us discovered how to position their lives in order to catch and appropriate the life-giving breath of God. They learned that they could survive and thrive even in the midst of seismic economic, climate, and cultural changes.