#52 Ancestor Challenge 2019, Week 23, Namesake

#52 Ancestor Challenge 2019, Week 23,  Namesake

The Spirit Runner 

The Rev. Dr. Cynthia Forde

Genealogy?   Why live in the past?   What is the importance of knowing family names?   Why would anyone spend years researching family history?   Who cares?

For thirty-five years I have asked myself these questions while I continue to research our family's genealogy.   As a minister, I turn to Scripture for answers.   The Word of God says not to be concerned about genealogy, on one hand, yet on the other hand, what serious student of the Bible has not skipped quickly over countless recitations of who begat whom? Why, indeed, is genealogy in Scripture? For Christians, the answer is that genealogies in Scripture point to Jesus Christ.   But, one of the best answers I have heard for all of the "begets" came from a young Jewish girl on the day of her Bat Mitzvah commenting on the Book of Numbers.   "God is counting His treasure."

It helps to re-frame the questions in the light of the girl's response: God treasures each one of us.   We are of inestimable value, regardless of sojourn: long or short, well traveled or not.   We are loved by God, beyond our wildest imagination.   From the point in time that we begin our journey from God until our return to God, having breathed our last, we are God's treasure.

Therefore, as we add to God's story during our sojourn on this earth, we increase God's treasure.   We do this, of course, simply by the fact that we exist, move, breathe and live out the days of our lives in whatever circumstances we are given.   Our Creator values us immensely. Each soul is God-kissed, God-breathed, God's glistening gold.   This is most certainly true - as Martin Luther would remind us. It does not matter whether or not others recognize and validate our worth; the value does not change. 

How often do you hear or read about someone who has found a priceless painting or valuable treasure digging through heaps of junk? My own mothers' experience proves the point, "I tried everything to remove the greenish-black substance that formed on the tea service we were given as a wedding gift.   Nothing worked.   I sent it to the garbage dump.   When I told 'Ole,' he went to the dump immediately to search for it." Unfortunately for my mother, someone else realized they had discovered silver!

In researching family history, I unearthed untold treasure - stories. Each box of genealogical data tells me a story.   It brings me in touch with the struggles, losses, hopes and the joys of those who have preceded me. It gives me insight into the heartaches that must have accompanied the loss of a child - and in many cases several children.  

In my Norwegian ancestral lines, I was puzzled why families named two and sometimes three children identical names, such as Anna d.o, Anna d.m. and Anna d.y.  This was done to make certain one of the three daughters named Anna would survive in their world where children were fortunate to live past two years of age. Grandma Anna must have a namesake. Therefore, they named Anna (d.o. the oldest) and Anna (d.m. the middle) and Anna (d,y, the youngest).  At least one of the daughters or sons needed to survive to be the namesake, to tell the story. 

A good example is the story of the church bells in Kensett, Iowa.   Knud Savre's young daughter became the first white person to be buried in that community.   Two more daughters died within a short time.   Imagine how painful it must have been for this pioneer family to lose three daughters. They gave church bells in memory of the young girls.   Doesn't this story create a longing in your heart to go to the church in Kensett and listen to the bells? "Do the bells toll or peal, clap or ring?" "Do they echo the laughter of little girls?" How should bells sound to remember beloved daughters?

Another excellent example of the treasure trove in stories: In 1987, we visited my mother's paternal ancestral home; the location is in Dade County, Georgia, just south of Chattanooga, Tennessee.  I met with the president of the Historical Society of Dade County. They had heard of our family members but they had no information on the family for the county history books.   I was able to give them a diary and autobiography of one of the sons, John Thornton Miller. 

The diary was a great gift.   They did not have another written record of that early history.   It offered previously unknown information, names of teachers and preachers long forgotten; but most importantly, John T. Miller shared his reflections and impressions of what it was like to grow up in the midst of the beautiful Dade Valley; familial values and philosophies are brought to light.   The diary is being published in the Dade County History Book.

An important question was answered for the surrounding community, "Why does the Miller family cemetery exist without Millers buried in it.?" I had the answer to the question, "There is a Miller buried in the cemetery. Elizabeth Miller Tatum died giving birth to her first child. It was built on her behalf."

I was able to answer the first part of the question: "But there is a Miller buried there," because the story was handed down to me. Sadly enough, twelve years later, I can answer the second part of the question, 'Why is it landscaped so elaborately?'

One hundred and forty years after Elizabeth Miller's death, our son, Scott, died.   We created a cemetery on our ranch at his request.  It, too, is being landscaped with great consideration. Scott requested a simple boulder for his headstone; he wanted to express his love of nature.   In the Miller cemetery, there is a large boulder.   While we have no idea if it marks Elizabeth's' grave, for the sake of the story we hope so.   Elizabeth's and Scott's stories were submitted to the National Cemetery Register when we recorded our new cemetery, 'Scott's Grove.' Someday, descendants will value both story and cemetery.

Stories are treasures.   Stories are discovered by paying attention: how is a child named. What is the birth order?   Why do we see certain migration and emigration patterns? Attention to detail bears fruit.   Stories begin to unfold. Connections form.

Each story is yet another connection from past to present and on to the future. Most interesting to see is how the stories of families connect from generation to generation; some families grow in strength and numbers; other families fracture, splinter and become fragments drifting apart.

I discovered delightful details in the connecting boxes on my grandfather's, Carl Vold, side of the family in FlÃ¥, Hallingdal, Norway.   Hallings intermarry.   There is so much intermarriage that in one generation three of the children become my direct ancestors.   There is a pattern of marrying a second cousin. Because of intermarriage, grandparents become grandparents a 2nd and 3rd time as well.   A computer kinship report reveals that I am a cousin 7 times removed from my own children.   Keep this up and I may one day really become my own grandmother!

Most of my stories grow out of Hallingdal where everyone is a cousin 'at least once.' It was the custom to marry relatives because the family farm had to stay in the family.   It has been said, (by one of several cousins I found on the internet) "scientists are researching the Hallings, doing DNA testing because the gene pool is so pure." And did I know..., "the frozen 10,000-year-old man found in the Alps was a Halling? Even then they were running away from paying high taxes!"

More surprises came to light: In the seventeenth century, Ellef Knudsen Sefre and his wife Astri produced five children.   The children, Ole, Gunild, Birgit, Guri, and Knud, are the direct ancestors of the Gulbrand Mellums, the Savres, the Brunsvolds, and the Volds, in Worth and Winnebago County - which may surprise many of them.

Robert (Bob) Savre, a descendant of the pioneer, Knud E. Savre, and married to Avis Nelson from Worth County, wrote this to me: "Avis and I are fifth cousins; her dad, Selmer Nelson, farmed next to Timen Brunsvold for years -- neither of them knew they were related until later years. "

Some of the surprises are more treasure than others. We would rather some of the stories not be told - I did not tell stories that would embarrass anyone.   Nor did I tell the stories of rich and famous ancestors so that they would be the dazzling connections that stand out for time and posterity.   The connections to each other - good or bad - totally miss the point.   For the real treasure is the value of interconnectedness: the schema, if you will, of something greater and grander at work.   It is like an incredible gigantic tapestry woven by God.   God spun a thread which runs through us and on to the future; I named this thread, The Spirit Runner.

The Spirit Runner is the connecting thread, woven invisibly and intricately, deeper than DNA or quantum energy spun in the reality of physics.   It is our umbilical cord connecting us to God and to each other revealed in the art of telling stories of events.   A conception, gestation, birth, blood, water, tears, a fast in the wilderness, water to wine, and finally our salvation played out with agony, defeat, the death of a child, a body in a grave; then taken up into the center of the incredible mystery of the Holy Trinity.   Our stories are God's stories about 'who and why’ we are.  We are God’s namesakes.