Originally published 2/21/16
Today I sat down in Alabama for the first time. I've driven across Alabama several times, but I've never experienced anything off the interstate. I've had this strange interest in visiting Alabama since we arrived here in South Central Tennessee. We're closer to Alabama then you might think.
As we were driving to Huntsville, Alabama, this morning, I was thinking how cool it is to live in a country made up a states that don't have border crossings. We can just go to another state any old time we please. We don't have to exchange money, show our passport, or wait in bureaucratic lines. We just drive on in to Alabama as we please. I appreciate that of our nation.
As connected as we are, I always expect states to look different. In the Southeast, though, they still look much the same. The only notable difference is, the college logos change. In Upstate South Carolina, there are Clemson Tiger Paws. In Tennessee, big orange Ts across the state. And in Alabama, a red A, even in the stained glass at church. (I'm not kidding)
The landscape in Northern Alabama was a cross between the Cumberland Plateau of Tennessee, where we now live, and the cotton fields of South Carolina's Pee Dee region, where I spent my formative young adult years.
Mountains in the back, cotton fields in the front. It's just so.....Southern.
I love the South, its landscape and its characters. I'm excited to know there's more of it.
We drove into the quaint town of Huntsville, about 1 hour south of us. It's growing, as evidenced by the landscaped suburbs on the edge of town, the operational manufacturing plants, and a nice mix of chain and local eateries. Downtown is where it really feels Southern though, as church steeples outnumber office buildings, and church bells compete at noon.
We may flee to our homes in the burbs, but the beautiful churches still anchor life downtown.
We were visiting Church of the Nativity because Michael will have to do "field education" at a church next year. That's where he spends a few hours a week in an actual church participating in services and the life of the congregation to the extent that he can. Maybe it's their last ditch effort to scare off any seminarians who have romantic notions about church. It's work, people.
Nativity is a classic gothic structure, with dark wood, stained glass and a pipe organ. My kind of church. Looks a lot like Christ Church Greenville.
So, we're in a state that reminds me a lot of South Carolina, a place that looks a lot like our home church, saying a liturgy that Episcopalians say everywhere. Everything was the same.
Until we went to Sunday School.
That's where Alabama came out.
We were ushered by this short, Southern woman named Lane, to a particular Sunday School class because it has a reputation of being slightly off-the-wall. She giggled with glee to drop us off there. The class was facilitated by two ladies named Emily and Amy. We sat in a two-layered circle, and as we gathered, it was clear these mostly post-middle aged couples have known each other a long time.
Amy summed up the reading for that day, which was a chapter from The Story on Ezra, Malachi and Nehemiah. The Story is a summation, I take it, of the Bible. The church is reading it this year as a way to read the entire Bible. The Emily and Amy show was an entirely different summation of the Bible, however.
Think of any Southern parody of two women (one of which should be Shirley McClain) you've ever seen and it will be what we witnessed in class today. It's not just their sense of humor but the fact that both women, well into middle age (but very well preserved) mentioned advice from their Momma and Daddy.
Amy was summarizing the trouble that the Jews got in for sacrificing lame and sick animals, instead of their best.
"But when you present the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? And when you present the lame and sick, is it not evil? Why not offer it to your governor? Would he be pleased with you? Or would he receive you kindly?" says the LORD of hosts. Malachi 1:8
"In other words, don't do anything half-assed, that's what my daddy always said," Emily brought the lesson into Alabama context for us.
Amy then talked about the conflicts of doing the right thing.
"It's hard," Emily agreed. "It's like there's a tornado in my head."
They have those in the plains of Alabama, usually near a trailer park.
Emily took over the telling of the story, but Amy kept talking.
"I don't know why half of the things that come out of my mouth do." I'm not sure what she was talking about, and neither was she.
As we ended the story, they talked about getting to know people.
"My Momma wrote me a note before I did my Cursillo, and she said, Don't worry, those people will get cuter as the weekend goes on."
Their banter was pure Alabama. I had to write those things down, because you can't make them up.
I enjoyed my seat in Alabama, and look forward to going back to the familiar geography dotted with great Southern characters.
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