Happy Labor Day! Also, the Growing Together book discussion of How People Change kicks off on September 15. If you have questions, contact me at jacksonwatts@hotmail.com or the Executive Office at questions@nafwb.org.
Making Labor Day Great Again
For many Americans, Memorial Day through Labor Day marks the unofficial summer season. The rise in airfare, fuel prices, hotel bookings, and fall in worship attendance are the unmistakable signs.
How this timeframe came to be seen this way isn’t fully apparent to me. I realize that it didn’t occur overnight. Certainly, earlier generations didn’t have near the amount of disposable income (or consumer debt) that people carry today. But I suppose it was inevitable that the American dream would come to include not just one family vacation during the summer, but multiple, mini getaways—the last hurrah being Labor Day Weekend.
While a good critique of consumerism is always in order, I don’t offer these observations with the intent of condemning how people spend their summer. After all, if all things have gone smoothly between the time I’m writing this newsletter and the time it lands in your inbox, I’ll be lying on a beach on Hilton Head Island right about now. My wife and I celebrated ten years of marriage this summer but couldn’t book our special trip until now. We knew we needed to get to a coastline somewhere. Thankfully, such a place was available.
I confess that it’s slightly odd being here. As I was growing up, our family spent each Labor Day Weekend at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, which was only about 70 miles from my home. It was a big deal. In fact, my grandmother’s (Grandma Kay) entire side of the family (the Moores) would all book together at a condo on the beach. Year to year it varied as to where we could go, based on prices and availability. The places were never very nice, although to us kids it wasn’t that obvious. Who could complain about a few roaches when you’re right on the beach?
These were formative experiences. We would usually be taken out of school early on Thursday or Friday, then drive down. It was the longest hour and a half ride! Once we arrived, it was all my brother and I could do to avoid rushing off to the beach before mama had unloaded the car—I know we did several times! (Daddy would join us later once he had finished his farming work for that week.)
Some of my fondest memories happened along those shores. Hunting for shells and crabs, building sandcastles, and finding the perfect wave to push us into the shore consumed us for days. We loved walking to and from the nearest pier—it seemed like miles and miles away. And while I never particularly loved the way saltwater made my hair feel or the sand you could never quite wash from your body, I look back on that and wish I could feel it. It just doesn’t seem like Labor Day without it.
The odd thing is the contrast between those experiences and the chance to spend nearly a week, not just a weekend, at Hilton Head Island. It’s a gorgeous place. I remember hearing about it growing up, but knowing it just wasn’t in the cards for us. While it was only two and a half hours from my hometown, it wasn’t affordable. I’m sure it was also a lot easier getting the extended family to someplace more local (and affordable) like the Myrtle Beach area.
Readers of this site will know by now that I struggle with nostalgia. But at least I’ve acknowledged it, so back off.
Ah, Memories
On a serious note, I’m not entirely ashamed about my tendency toward nostalgia because a “healthier nostalgia” is simply appreciating the role of memory and memories (See Newsletters #32 and #5). We’re making them all the time, whether we intend to or not. Isn’t it interesting how we think or even say aloud, “I want to make some good memories with my family.” Such intentionality is laudable, but this assumes that memory-making isn’t already happening, and that the level of intentionality is necessary for those memories to be positive or helpful down the road.
Imagine you go through a wild season of life. You change jobs. You move into a new home. The kids change schools. New rhythms are being established. You start finding yourselves over in the neighbor’s backyard every Saturday for a barbeque. You’re just barely hanging on, but eventually you settle into a groove. One could easily imagine such a family looking back several years later and saying, “Whew! Those were crazy times. Where did the time go? We never even hung all of our pictures! A few of them are still in the basement.”
It's not hard to imagine that family thinking, “Those barbeques kept us grounded and sane in a time when we were going through so much transition.” See how it works? You made some good memories even amid some personal chaos, at least in terms of schedules and changes.
Nevertheless, I’m very sympathetic to and supportive of intentionality in the area of family life, even down to the level of travel and vacations. Nothing ever goes exactly as you plan, but plan you must.
I’m always stunned by the amount of vacation time people—typically white-collar types—leave on the table each year. Maybe it works for them in the long run financially. Maybe some people would just go on a drinking bender if they had a staycation, in which case it’s better that they just go on to work. But are those the only options?
Does Tradition Have a Future?
As my grandparents have all now passed away and other family dynamics change, it’s increasingly difficult to have a gathering of extended family. Not only do schedules and geography pull us apart, but also the growth of our family. Nearly all of my and my wife’s aunts and uncles are grandparents now, so they are beginning to forge their own traditions.
As I spend this week with my wife and little boy, we are joined for a few days by my parents. It’s truly wonderful to see them spending time with their grandson. But I also wonder, “What traditions might be achievable, desirable, or necessary for the long-term well-being of my household?” I think most of us tend to think about whether certain traditions are practical and enjoyable, but not so much about whether they’re necessary.
Those who lead churches—especially revitalization ministries—can be overly negative toward and vigilant against traditions. They see how deleterious they can be and have been in particular ministries. Form overshadowed functions. Structure consumed substance. This is definitely problematic on many levels.
I’ve even heard church planters speak about how they’re seeking to avoid developing new traditions, all too aware of how ministries can be saddled by them. But such sensitivity concerning such a wide category like “traditions” should make us ask, “Are we overcorrecting in the other direction?” Moreover, what if tradition, properly understood, can be a strength and not a liability?
I intend to develop these ideas later, but I want to make two observations about these questions, whether we relate them to family vacations or church practices. First, what would be the opposite of traditions? Do we really want to avoid all semblances of continued patterns of practice, belief, and memory-making? How well would that benefit a new church filled with new believers, learning the ways of God, Scripture, and worship? Think very carefully about how you denigrate tradition.
Second, what if developing some basic traditions (or allowing them to develop on their own organically) is just a normal, often healthy part of the human experience? Those of us with cultural studies backgrounds have all read about how humans are “cultural creatures,” “meaning-making creatures,” and “economic creatures.” Man is homo liturgicas. Isn’t it just as true to say that we’re “tradition-making creatures?”
It’s surely the case that traditionalism can tend toward idolatry, but so can every human enterprise—including our penchant for novelty, freshness, and innovation. Idolatry can compromise every human enterprise, whether it be protecting unhealthy traditions or pursuing unhealthy innovations.
I don’t know how feasible it will be for my wife and son to get to a coastline every year. For crying out loud, we live in Missouri! However, I don’t think it’s a wrong impulse for a father to desire to give his son good things (i.e., Mt. 7:11). And if making occasional memories in the surf and sun—as time and finances permit—are a “good thing,” then why not try?
We make meaning, in part, through traditions. This should force us all to consider if the traditions of our families, communities, and churches are fostering the right kind of meaning, the meaning that God created us for and is redeeming us for.
Currently Reading:
George Orwell, 1984.
Quote of the Week:
Church membership can be a firewall for children’s ministry. If church membership is only for genuine believers, and if a genuine believer is much less likely to ever abuse a child, the combination of these two factors should lower the risk of abuse to our children. When pastors are careless about whom they allow into church membership, the removal of this firewall increases the risk to our kids.