Our verbal history offers a window from man to God

By Steve Hall

Saturday of the Second Week of Advent

Sirach 48:1-4, 9-11
Matthew 17:9-13

My reflection this morning focuses on a broader topic than the Scripture readings we have been given. That’s because of a picture which I will share with you in a few minutes.

There are, in the initial chapters of Genesis, a few accounts that are identified by scholars as pre-history. The historical narrative begins with Abraham. Throughout the generations the people of Abraham’s line would trace their ancestry back to this man. Their history was a verbal one; and would remain so for centuries. Among other things, this verbal history offers a window into the relationship and interaction between man and God. For example, the possibility of man and God conversing was assumed to be reasonable and not merely the subject matter of a joke. Further, both the historic records and cultural writings were themselves focused. On the one hand both the history and the literature concern a specific people, their origins and their establishment as a nation. On the other hand, and more importantly, the writings tells of God and his continual effort to draw these people to himself.

Verbal history is under-appreciated in our day and we marvel at the ability of so-called ‘primitives’ in years long past to memorize extensive portions of a verbal record. Nevertheless, memorization was common in a society uncluttered by books, magazines, newspapers, radio, computers or TV.

Today we know little of the history of Europe’s interaction with what they called the ‘new world.’ It’s easy to find people who don’t know who was fighting who in America’s Revolutionary War. Or who was President during the Civil War? Or even who won the Civil War? Those events were a mere one hundred, two hundred or four hundred years ago. Abraham lived somewhere around eight hundred years before there was any written record. What prompted the dedication of these people to the preservation of these accounts?

Let’s turn back for a moment to the picture I mentioned earlier.

As you know, my mobility has been severely restricted for the past several months even as steady recovery progress is being made. During this time I frequently escape the boredom by, among other things, utilizing a coloring app from the internet. The AP is similar to standard paint-by-number sets and can keep you occupied for hours. Recently I was looking for a new selection when one from the art choices caught my eye. I couldn’t figure out how to print it or I would have brought it with me. So, in lieu of the actual picture I’ll verbally describe it.

The scene is that of an old man and a young boy, perhaps eight years old.
The artist has used dull, muted colors to convey the poverty of their circumstances.
They’re in a small room that appears to be the primary living space of an insignificant house.
Kitchen, dining, living room all in one.
The room is sparsely furnished, the furniture sparse.
The worn wooden floor gives space for a slightly tattered area rug.
Dishes and pans clutter a counter beside what appears to be a sink.
The walls are plain except for two photo-sized pictures.
The old man’s hat lies on the floor, showing signs of many year’s wear.
The man himself sits on one of the mis-matched kitchen chairs.
His clothes are plain, clean but wrinkled.
His attention is focused on the banjo held by the boy; his look implies musical evaluation.
The boy is barefoot, and, like the old man, wears well-worn clothes, simple and clean.
He stands close between the old man’s legs.
His body is slightly turned so his strumming can be observed.
His eyes indicate a serious concentration on the musical instrument he holds.

The artist’s title for the work: The Banjo Lesson (Steve Leininger found a copy online after Steve Hall delivered his reflection, and that's up on this site).

Early on, while I filled in the specified colors I became curious as to the artist’s intention. What was going on in this forlorn setting? Was it as cheerless and melancholy as it appeared? It’s easy to brood a bit while engaged in such a task; and it wasn’t long before the title along with the elements of the art piece would enlighten me. The background of poverty became important to the artist’s message. The old man clearly had little. The same was true of the boy. But what the man had and what was important to him was musical skill with the banjo.

He was passing it along.

He was giving the boy(quite possibly his grandson) his ability with and appreciation of that simple musical instrument. Quite probably the banjo had been of major import in his life. It was notable enough to share with his posterity.

It was this image that lead me to consider the fealty of the Old Testament peoples in faithfully carrying their story forward from generation to generation. It was this same image which recalled to mind the words of Paul:

“For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures. . . ." (1 Corinthians 15:3).

It was this same image that provoked the question: What is truly important to each of us today? And what do we do, what have we done to pass it along to the next generation?