VIEWPOINT
BY LIV GIBBONS
Nourishing
the Soul
FIRST CHRISTIAN CELEBRATES 150 YEARS
O
Moving beyond fossil fuels is not
about electric cars, but relocalizing food
production, since solar panels cannot
power long-distance food shipments. That
limitation is physical and logistical, not
political.
Breeding plant varieties will probably
be the most important adaptation to
changing climates.
Mark Robinowitz
Eugene
OFFENDED BY BEST OF
I am making a trip to Eugene in July
and was reading EW’s “Best of Eugene”
to get an idea of the culture and the city.
I enjoyed the article until I came to the
“Extras” section, “Best Places to Take
Your Kids.” For a paper that lists cultural
diversity and tolerance in its mission
statement, I was deeply disappointed at the
flippant attitude of hate toward children. If
the threat of being “rounded up and
‘cremated’” had been directed toward
any other group or minority, regardless of
race, religion, gender, orientation or age, it
would most certainly warrant and receive a
public outcry.
Treating the murder and imprisonment
of children with off-hand humor is
irresponsible, using that particular imagery
is egregious, and I can’t understand why
you would give those ideas any validation
by printing them. Hate speech is hate
speech, no matter at whom it is directed,
especially children.
Heather Bair
Los Angeles, California
EDITOR’S NOTE: The suggestion to round up and
“cremate” children came from a reader’s Best of ballot.
DEADLY PRODUCTS
Last year, children playing with their
parents’ guns shot 265 and killed 83. There
were no arrests, and they called them
“tragic accidents.”
Last year, 22,000 toddlers were
poisoned by candy-colored laundry
detergent pods they were able to access.
There were no arrests, and they called
them “tragic accidents.”
Last year, several children were
hospitalized after getting into their parents
marijuana edibles. No one died, and the
parents were arrested and jailed for child
neglect. They called it child abuse.
Now, thanks to the useless FDA
allowing candy-flavored vaping nicotine
to be legally sold, we can add nicotine
poisoning to the list of “tragic accidents”
facing our children.
It’s time to face reality and hold
the parents and manufacturers of these
deadly products responsible for these real
“accidents.”
Michael T. Hinojosa
Drain
DIRTY UNDERGRADS
Why the big fuss about the University
of Oregon’s Greek culture trashing Shasta
Lake? If you live near the university (as
we do), every year — long about this time
— dozens of rental houses vomit forth
dilapidated couches, mattresses, busted
IKEA furniture and bags of random crap
over the parking strips and street, often to
sit there for weeks before somebody comes
along and cleans it up.
No news here.
Lea Jones
Eugene
RUDE BIKER
To the jerk (rude bicyclist) at 6th and
Peal, 4 pm May 17:
You don’t really advance your “cause”
by trying to pick a fight with someone just
because he is driving a car. I didn’t rise to
your bait because I’m a nice person.
And, since you pretended to be unable
to hear my friendly response to your silly
remarks, perhaps you can read this: Fuck
you.
Robert C. Laney
Pleasant Hill
n April 10, Eugene First Christian Church celebrated its 150th
anniversary. You’ve probably seen the church building —
white columns under a massive dome, bronze-capped bell
tower, stained glass windows everywhere you look.
And maybe you’ve even heard about some of the work this
congregation does: the Helping Hands Room, the Interfaith Shelter and Egan
Warming Center (side by side with other outstanding local congregations)
and, most recently, its sponsorship of Opportunity Village.
I had the privilege of delivering the sermon at this fine church’s
sesquicentennial service — not because I’m some big shot on the preaching
circuit, but because I am a product of First Christian Church. This is the
congregation that welcomed me as a baby, baptized me as a child, helped pay
for my college textbooks, married me and ordained me. I think it’s fair to say
I owed them one.
So I told my church a story about the Great Depression. I talked about how
hobos (those lone rangers of our nation’s railways, highways and byways)
relied on information passed along by their fellow travelers — information
that could save a man’s life, or at least save him from a month in jail.
They developed a code, a series of images that conveyed useful
knowledge, that could be chalked onto
fences and gateposts: A drawing of a
cat told travelers that a kind woman
lived in the house, while a stick figure
of a lady followed by a few triangles
(an approximation of tears) meant that
you’d need to tell a pitiful story to curry
her favor. Two rails meeting in a T meant
that there was work here — a wonderful
thing to find in a time of scarcity — but
you had to read carefully: Two plain lines
meeting in a crooked T meant that a beating awaited you.
There were codes for mean dogs and good roads, easy marks and dishonest
men. There was even a sign to let you know you were passing by the house of
the local judge. Walk briskly.
Then I wondered what kinds of markings we might have found on the
pillars, steps and railings of First Christian. Since we’re a church, one might
have expected a cross to be etched outside our doors. But in hobo code,
a Christian cross on the fence didn’t mean that the residents were kind or
merciful or just. It just meant “talk religion and they’ll give you food.” That
doesn’t really reflect how First Christian does ministry. We love Jesus a
whole lot, but it’s not our style to push religion on anybody.
Another popular hobo symbol was a loaf — it meant, well, bread. And
anyone who’s spent time at First Christian knows that we’re crazy about that
wheaty goodness. We ask for it every time we say the Lord’s Prayer, eat it
every time we worship and try to share it with everyone we meet. We pride
ourselves on being good neighbors, and we think that entails making sure the
people around us don’t starve (or freeze or suffer injustice).
So maybe one would have found little pictures of loaves on our front
steps, chalked where only a trained eye could spot them.
Then again, First Christian isn’t just about bread. We follow a man who
brought bread to the people and also something he called “the bread of life.”
The first kind fills the belly, the second kind fills the soul. So when we pray
for our daily bread, we’re asking for food — not just for ourselves but for the
world. And we’re also asking for nourishment that can strengthen us against
despair and hopelessness, against myopia and hard-heartedness.
We are asking for God.
There was no hobo symbol, at least not one that I could find, for bread like
that. But anywhere that bread is found is special, and there was a symbol for
that. And it is my prayer for this downtown church that it might be that sort
of place in the heart of Eugene for another 150 years.
The Rev. Liv Gibbons is an ordained minister at Northwest United Protestant Church in Richland, Wash-
ington.
eugeneweekly.com • June 2, 2016
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