Matthew 22:36-40
New International Version
36 “Teacher, which is the greatest
commandment in the Law?”
37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the
Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your
mind.’[a] 38 This is the
first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second
is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law
and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
There was a large portrait, a photograph, in the basement of my mother’s house, leaned up against a wall in her office. It was a professional black and white picture of two-year-old boy. The boy was Hardy Groff, my grandmother’s brother. In the picture he was holding his hand on his ear, as a child with an earache would. He died soon after the picture. My mother always told me he died of some infection related to the earache. My grandmother’s other brother, Edmund, died at age one.
I went by the farmhouse recently, and this picture was
outside on a trash pile. The new owner was cleaning the house out to rent it. My
brother was the last one there, and he said he’d taken all the pictures, but he
didn’t take this one. I could see why… it was spooky. As my son Oliver said, if
there’s any way for anything to ever be haunted in this world, that picture
would be it.
Although the picture was grim, and it is hard to know what to do with it, it is also hard to discard, because my grandmother had kept it. When you only have two brothers, and both of them die before they reach the age of three, having a picture of one of them is important.
So I took the picture to my Uncle Don, the last of my
grandmother’s living children. Don immediately recognized the picture. His wife
Donna seemed excited to get it – but maybe just for the antique frame. It was
probably 130 years old.
When I gave them the picture they gave me my grandmother’s family Bible. Don had sent it to my grandmother from Germany when he was in the army. There’s a page in the Bible entitled “Important Events in the Life of Our Family.” This is what it reads, written in my grandmother's hand:
Lived on the river place from 1919 till 1938, then moved on Dad's place in Feb. 1938. Stayed there 4 years and with Grandma Ridenhour 10 years. Moved to Stockton place in March of 1953.
Walter Erlyne, Randy, Dot, Dad & I went to Chicago in Nov. 1954 to visit Bill & Mildred. Bill was in the army at that time.
Easter Sunday 1955 Walter, Mildred, Donna, Dad & I went to Camp Chaffee, Arkansas, to visit Don.
I'm guessing the trips were significant because they were probably the only two times she traveled outside the state of Missouri.
Our bathroom was completed in the fall of 1967.
If it seems odd that a home improvement project made it into the family Bible, consider this was the first time she had indoor plumbing. When you've endured some long, snowy winters with the outhouse located pretty far from the main house, getting a bathroom is newsworthy.
We celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary Jan. 1, 1969.
I moved to Belle all alone Dec. 1970.
Her fears were justified, but unfounded. I was born two years later, and went there about every
time we went to town, which was often. Usually, some cousins or aunts and
uncles were already there. Her little brick house with a big yard in the middle
of town was a hub of activity.
Important events in the life of our family.
Five years ago my father walked into the hospital here in
Columbia on his own accord and died the next day. His death was both shocking and
expected, as he’d been fighting cancer for over a year. The shocking part was I
assumed he would decline to a point that meant some time in and out of the
hospital, resulting in a final stay that lasted some weeks in the hospital or
perhaps a nursing home. Apparently, he had muscled through those stages just
like he did most things and was able to persevere through his last day on
earth. I spent that day with him in the hospital. He was alert and lucid up to his
last breath, and could talk easily as I’m talking to you now. He had two concerns: he had a single steer
that hadn’t sold with the others or gone to butcher, and it was time. But he
usually finished them on some grain. He said it might not be that good, but being
entirely grassfed beef was fashionable now, so maybe it would be ok.
The other thing was a pair of boots. He’d only worn them a
couple times because they were a little small and hurt his feet. But he had
worn them, so he couldn’t take them back. He said I should be sure to get them,
because they were like new, and I’m half a size smaller than him so they would
probably fit me well.
His reservations about the steer were spot on. It was lean.
It tasted more like venison this his usual Grade A Angus. The steak didn’t have
the usual marbling you look for.
He was right about the boots. They fit me well. They say Danner
Dry on the little tag. I learned that Danner Dry means somewhat moist. My feet
would get soaked when I walked across wet grass. But if I covered them with
enough mink oil I could get them fairly waterproof. I’ve put the boots to good
use, wearing them every time I go to the farm. I've also worn them on hiking trips through mountains, deserts, swamps, forests and high plains. Although it’s been five
years, I’m still wearing them now.
There were certainly things of larger importance that could
have been discussed, but as we both slowly recognized we were in his final
hours I wasn’t going to push him toward an uncomfortable conversation. His
faith was strong and he had no fear of death – he feared only a protracted
hospital or nursing home stay, and he dodged that. He was an old German farmer,
and didn’t like to talk about money, property or business much, and pretty soon
none of that was going to be his problem anyway.
He had grown up in an era where when people were old and
sick, you called a doctor and they came to the house, you didn’t go to the
hospital. When things looked grim, the doctor and family would call for a death
watch, and people took turns at the bedside round the clock. My dad had done
this several times, and was familiar with a condition he called the death
rattle. You can hear it in the breathing. He could hear it in himself, and knew
he was close. But he didn’t have anything more important to deal with than a
lone steer and a pair of boots. He also mentioned he wanted all of us kids to
get along. He didn’t say how – it was more of a wish than a directive.
So Jesus occasionally gets pegged as always either answering a question with another question, or answering a question with a big, long story, starting out “There was a certain man…” He does a lot of that in Matthew. But there’s that one time in the Bible when Jesus was asked what was most important. He didn’t mince words. He’s like, "This one is really simple." He said to Love God with all you got, and after that love your neighbor as yourself, and if you started with that, you should do fine figuring out everything else.
So I’d like you all to reflect on what’s important to you
this week. This doesn’t have to be an etched in stone or tattooed on your arm
mission statement, but just a few words about what makes your life important as
you finish out the last couple days of this week. It could even be a single
word, like encouragement, accountability, support.

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