Unlike the cities I have lived in since, where they are on every corner, we had only a few churches to choose from – at least when I was younger. There was the Methodist church in Leonardsville. There was the Baptist church in West Edmeston. There was an Episcopalian, a Presbyterian, and a Catholic church
in New Berlin. And there was a Pentecostal church in South Brookfield. We went to church together. We also worshiped together. We knew each other.
Another reason we needed each other was for strength in tough times. Here is just one example. It was New York State and our winters were cold. Actually, so were our autumns and springs for that matter. That meant we had wood stoves to heat our houses because we could not afford to heat those
150-year-old, fourteen room farm houses any other way. I cannot tell you exactly how many of my neighbors suffered damage to their homes or lost their homes due to house fires during my growing-up years. I can tell you that I have lived through three. We would hear the sirens from three counties on top of the hill where I lived. Many people had fire/police scanners so they heard immediately where the fire was. And once we knew – we went. The men pitched in and helped the volunteer firemen battle the blaze. The women gathered around the wife and children and began making plans to get the family settled for the night or for as long as it took to repair, clean, or rebuild. And by the next morning we would have boxes of clothing and things we needed until we were back on our feet. We cared for one another.
In ways I grew up understanding the Biblical principle of “having all things in common”. We lived it.
I don’t know if the people where I grew up still have those same values. I am sure that the selfish ways of America have seeped into that culture the same as they have everywhere else. I know I have not seen that community exhibited in many places since my days as a child on the farm in rural New York.
But yesterday I recognized it in my world now. I might have missed it if it wasn’t for a trip to Home Depot. I was there with one of the students I tutor, picking up the supplies we needed for his science project when a group of guys I know from the community came walking down the aisle. It took me by surprise. I’m not exactly sure why since they were not any more out of place than I was. But as we stopped to exchange greetings, in our halting attempts at communicating, it hit me. I am a part of a community once again. One that does not always speak the same language, but who know how care for one another. We do life together.
I often leave work and start tutoring the students that I work with. I usually don’t have time to run home to get dinner before I begin and I don’t get home until around ten o’clock. But my “family”, my "neighbors” show me their gracious hospitality by making me dinner so that I am taken care of as I go from house to house. And I am welcomed into homes wherever I go. There is reciprocity at work as well. Some days it is me who is cooking or teaching someone how to cook, or sew. No one stops to talk about what we do for each other. We just do it. The way it should be.
We acknowledge one another on the street or in the store. We are happy to see each other even when we are out of context and in strange places like Home Depot. But most of all, I know that I would do anything I could to take care of a need in my community. I also believe that my “neighbors” would do
the same for me if I just ask. I love that feeling of being “home.”
“All believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had.”
Acts 4:32
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." John 13:34-35