This weekend we went to the Peace Treaty celebration in Medicine Lodge. It was wonderful to offer the experience to my children and to live it again through their eyes. It was such a thrilling time when I was a kid! I was part of the celebration each time it occured during my growing-up years, whether in the parade or the reinactment or both. I wish I had made it down to the park to see the Native American Encampment this time, and it would have been nice to see the Western Art Show as well. But there is only so much you can fit in.

This is an event that happens only every 3 years, and many ML natives return to celebrate. I saw several old friends. Two people I saw seemed to recognize me immediately, but they had to tell me who they were, even after I looked directly in their faces.

There is something unique about growing up in a small town, and that is the fact that you go to school with, and are on sports teams with, and grow up alongside the same set of kids for 18 years. So when you see those people again, even if you never got along very well and haven't talked for 10 years, it is kind of like seeing siblings or cousins. You remember each other's most embarrassing moments, each other's awkward phases of growth, and each other's first kisses. You know whose family was considered prestigious and whose family was considered trashy, by whatever (sometimes arbitrary) standards the town might impose. You know which kids were popular and which weren't, because of or despite their family's reputation. You know who went through exceptional hardships or exceptional triumphs. You know which church each person went to, and whether or not they lived like they went to church.

Beyond the common memories, you share a common understanding of the small town culture. You know about the high school "scene" - about cruising the square, hanging out on certain empty street corners, the creepy older guys who would buy beer for the high school parties, and the deserted country spots where those parties would be. You understand how important sports are in a small town, and how the whole town will turn out for a big game, even if it is hours away; how you all feel the pain of the loss or the triumph of the victory - like somehow the abilities of those 11 high school boys represent how well you all have done. You know that the favorite weekend pasttime of most males from 8-80 is hunting for the bulk of the daylight hours, if they aren't helping on a farm somewhere, and that the high school boys are probably carrying shotguns in the pickups they drive to school so that they can shoot coyotes or bobcats they see on the way (and that school officials are probably still looking the other way when those pickups are parked in front of the school). You know something of rodeo and country dance and country music, and feel somehow connected to it even if it isn't really your thing. You know that you feel a certain comfort by escaping out into the local countryside or sitting next to the county lake (although you can't pinpoint why), and that it seems like most of your peers experience the same feeling.

It is kind of neat to be part of a small town, with shared values and experiences. You don't have to worry as much about what your kids are exposed to, because you know everyone. If someone doesn't share your values, you and everyone in the town knows it. However, a problem arises when you are the one to depart from the majority values. In my particular community, it seems like children are nurtured and protected by the whole community until the teenage years. Then, everyone looks the other way while the teenagers throw parties and drink and smoke and sleep around. I realize now that it was highly improbable that our town police and county sheriffs did not realize that drinking parties were going on, or that certain kids were out "parking." Not only that, but surely the ministers of the various churches knew that certain teens were going wild. But nonetheless there was no accountablity - few tickets issued for underage drinking, no cases of statuatory rape or unlawful sexual relations prosecuted, no teenagers or families taken aside by their ministers and held accountable for what was going on (at least not in my church). So, if you object to allowing the town's teenagers a rumschpringe, if you depart from the town's values on this point, it can become a lonely place for your teenager. When I compare Heath's growing up experience in a larger town/small city to mine, I think living in a small town was better from birth to around age 11, but that after that living in a bigger town was much better. When I tried to find a place to belong and a way to survive emotionally in my junior high and high school, I didn't have very many options. It was roughly divided into a group of popular people and a group of outcast people. In Heath's schools, there were so many people that there were many groups to be a part of without choosing to be an outcast.

Maybe there are other small towns that have all the benefits of knowing each other closely and walking through decades of life together, without subjecting their children to the hazard of surviving their teenage years with little adult intervention. I hope so. Because the small town dynamic reminds me of the body of Christ a little bit. It is pretty irritating at times to know each other's business, but it can be good for us when we allow God's grace to infuse our lives. Instead of gossiping about each other's sins and failures, we are confessing our sins to each other and sharing one another's burdens. We triumph together in the blessings and spiritual victories that God gives us, instead of merely the temporal wins on a football field or basketball court. We share values, but we base those around God's Word and the conviction of the Holy Spirit, rather than merely on tradition that was originally based on someone's personal faith but has become diluted by those who don't know that faith firsthand.