Originally published in the Lebanon Reporter on January 25, 2007
If you don’t like the weather in Indiana, just wait a minute. You’ve probably heard this saying before. When I moved to Indiana nearly 12 years ago, this was part of my new-resident orientation. It was not the first time I had heard something like that adage. When I heard it before it had gone something like this - “If you don’t like the weather in Oklahoma, just wait a minute.
During my early years in the Sooner State we were taught that the quote was attributed to one of our favorite sons, Will Rogers. When I moved to Illinois, I found out they had their own version. Abe Lincoln said it there. When I lived in Tennessee, they thought it was something Elvis had said. In fact, there have been several places I’ve either lived or visited that claim this folksy quip as their own pronouncement of the unpredictability of the weather.
There is another declaration that seems to have a questionable origin. This one has to do with church goers and their love of good food. Growing up with a stepfather who was a Baptist minister I experienced a great many pitch-ins, pot lucks, dinners on the grounds, and pancake breakfasts. “There’s one thing for sure about Baptists, we really love to eat.” As a young boy, I took this at face value, thinking that the our particular branch of the church had some sort of special deal with the Lord so that our food tasted better.
I had no idea that while we were devouring our deviled eggs, the Methodists were feasting at their fish fries, the Quakers were chowing down on chicken and noodles, and the Wesleyans were devouring dessert. As I did some denomination hoping over the next few decades, I got to taste-test for myself. Along the way I’ve befriended several folks outside the Christian faith and it seems that the Synagogues and Mosques are quite fond of food as well.
There is something special about communal meals regardless of the name on the sign outside the house of workship - sharing faith and food. At times, eating together is a sacred ritual and at other times it is just a chance to spend time with good friends. When people leave a church, for one reason or another, or when a church closes its doors, the most precious memories are more likely to be of breaking bread in fellowship hall than of hymns and sermons in the sanctuary.
A few people are still around our community who once attended a little country church called Hopewell Presbyterian Church in rural Boone County. This was a church with some great food traditions. Many years ago, membership had dwindled to such low numbers that they merged with First Presbyterian Church of Lebanon. Although some of Hopewell’s traditions were incorporated into First Presbyterian’s, others were lost in the transition.
One memorable annual event at Hopewell was the Groundhog Day Dinner featuring Groundhog loaf. No, this wasn’t the frugal use of road kill, but rather a clever play-on-words. The church had several hog farmers in the congregation and someone came up with the idea of serving Ground-hog loaf, aka Hamloaf. On each Groundhog Day, members and guests would get together to eat, and talk, no doubt, about whether or not Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow.
The good folks at First Presbyterian Church of Lebanon have decided to resurrect Hopewell’s tradition and will be hosting a Groundhog Day Dinner on Friday, February 2, 2007. It will be a come-and-go event beginning at 5:30 pm and ending when the food is gone or at 7:30 pm, whichever comes first. There is no fixed price for the meal but the church is accepting donations that will go toward their mission ministries.
There may not be any significant theological implications to the Groundhog Day Dinner but it certainly offers a great opportunity to for good fellowship, good food, and a way to be part of a Boone County tradition we thought was long gone.