P
Paul J. Berg
Guest
~
The Register-Guard (Eugene, Oregon) - July 15, 2007
VENETA (Oregon) - Mornings are a sacred time at the Oregon Country Fair.
Before the fair opens and thousands of peaceniks, activists, anarchists
and hippies fill the tree-lined paths, hundreds of campers gather and
join hands in the famous "om" circle. The loud drone carries on for
several minutes, a call for peace and love.
Away from the spiritual chant Saturday, Jesse and Elaine Pattison, and
just a few dozen others, sit outside a tent, practicing their peace by
reading from a popular text not often seen at the fair - The Bible.
Call them the counter counter-culture.
Believers say that while they sometimes face flack for their beliefs,
the three-day event is generally a positive experience of finding other
liberal-minded faithful who are delighted to see a cross, and sharing a
faith they say parallels flower power.
"I think if Jesus was alive, maybe he would come to the Country Fair,"
said David Helton, coordinator of booth registration at the fair. "Jesus
was liberal when you really look at it."
The Pattisons, whose organic orange juice operation has occupied a booth
near the main stage for 37 of the fair's 38 years, have been quietly
Christian.
"We've been treated well here, and we appreciate that," said Jesse, 60,
who, along with his wife has hosted a Bible study at the fair since
1982. "What's in our heart is to be a presence to speak the truth and
love."
The counter-culture and the Christian culture have a lot more in common
than either side is willing to admit, said Tim Sitterley, senior pastor
of Living Grace Christian Church in Eugene.
"If you walk around the Country Fair, you see flags that say love, that
say peace, that say hope, that say unity," said Sitterley, who has
attended the fair for the last 18 years. "Those are the very banners
that the Christian church flies. We're seeking and promoting the very
same things; we just don't communicate enough."
Christians at the fair can recount a moment when someone has rejoiced,
and even cried, at the sight of another believer.
Sitterley recalled a moment several years ago when he was wearing a
shirt with the Christian fish on it, and a dreadlocked Jamaican stopped
him.
"He goes, 'Ah, you're a Christian mon, I'm a Christian too,' " he said.
"He lifts up his shirt, and he's got the same symbol I had, but it's
scarred, branded on his chest. I said, 'Whoa, you're a lot more hard
core than I am; mine's silk-screened.' "
But in other fairgoers, such symbols can produce volatile reactions.
At the Pattisons's booth, very little is visible of their strong
convictions - a small laminated sign bearing a cross and a verse from
Mark hangs above where volunteers will hand-squeeze about 4,000 pounds
of organic oranges over the course of the fair. Jesse and Elaine wear
small crosses around their necks.
The pair, who live in Deadwood, silently donate their proceeds every
year to a charity: Last year their money helped install 67 fishing ponds
in lesser-developed nations, Jesse said.
But they are also known to bring out a homemade sign and stand in the
crowds, which reached 17,500 Saturday, offering to pray with anyone who
wishes to do so. Other times, they hand out religious literature.
But they never approach anyone, Jesse said.
"We believe in the dignity of mankind," he said. "People are going to
make their choices here, and we're in no way wanting to pound on people
or force people."
One year, a woman spotted them and "came totally unglued," Jesse said.
She went to the fair's conflict booth and demanded that they be thrown
out - a request that was ultimately denied by fair staff.
"I suppose that a lot of people at the Country Fair would categorize
themselves as spiritual but not religious," booth coordinator Helton
said. "I think there's a lot of backlash of people thinking Christianity
and conservatism go hand and hand."
But the Pattisons - who value organic farming, land stewardship, helping
the poor and healthy living - say they have very little in common with
the stereotype.
"I'm not a Christian because of politics," Elaine, 49, said. "I'm a
Christian because of the change of Jesus Christ in my life."
Across the fair, Sherry Lou Shaw, who owns Sherry Lou's Navajo Velvet,
hangs soft velvet flags painted with many different names for Jesus
along the top of her booth.
The Takilma, Ore., resident, whose son-in-law is a pastor, said she
often hears anti-Christian talk from the neighboring stage. Sitting at
her antique sewing machine, she also notices people who will stand
outside of her booth, cross their arms and scowl, saying things like,
"She'll get over it."
"It's something that isn't that easy for us," said Shaw, who wore a gold
velvet skirt and many beaded necklaces. "They think to be a Christian
you have to have a tie and suit. It's not about that, it's about loving
Jesus."
Pastor Sitterley said each year he finds himself defending and
discussing his religion.
During one conversation, a follower of the Dalai Lama listed atrocities
he said the Christian church was responsible for. Sitterley said he
shocked the man by adding to it.
"I said, whatever you do, don't confuse 2,000 years of 'church-ianity'
with the teachings of Jesus Christ - it doesn't change the fact that the
teaching of Jesus Christ, of loving your fellow man, is true."
However, Sitterley said that among other pastors and some parishioners,
there is an equal amount of disdain for the people who flock to the
fair. Some feathers have been ruffled when the church uses tie dye
tablecloths and peace signs, he said.
"I say, this is a big part of our community," Sitterley said. "And if we
blow them off like some in the Christian community have, it's a big
mistake."
~
The Register-Guard (Eugene, Oregon) - July 15, 2007
VENETA (Oregon) - Mornings are a sacred time at the Oregon Country Fair.
Before the fair opens and thousands of peaceniks, activists, anarchists
and hippies fill the tree-lined paths, hundreds of campers gather and
join hands in the famous "om" circle. The loud drone carries on for
several minutes, a call for peace and love.
Away from the spiritual chant Saturday, Jesse and Elaine Pattison, and
just a few dozen others, sit outside a tent, practicing their peace by
reading from a popular text not often seen at the fair - The Bible.
Call them the counter counter-culture.
Believers say that while they sometimes face flack for their beliefs,
the three-day event is generally a positive experience of finding other
liberal-minded faithful who are delighted to see a cross, and sharing a
faith they say parallels flower power.
"I think if Jesus was alive, maybe he would come to the Country Fair,"
said David Helton, coordinator of booth registration at the fair. "Jesus
was liberal when you really look at it."
The Pattisons, whose organic orange juice operation has occupied a booth
near the main stage for 37 of the fair's 38 years, have been quietly
Christian.
"We've been treated well here, and we appreciate that," said Jesse, 60,
who, along with his wife has hosted a Bible study at the fair since
1982. "What's in our heart is to be a presence to speak the truth and
love."
The counter-culture and the Christian culture have a lot more in common
than either side is willing to admit, said Tim Sitterley, senior pastor
of Living Grace Christian Church in Eugene.
"If you walk around the Country Fair, you see flags that say love, that
say peace, that say hope, that say unity," said Sitterley, who has
attended the fair for the last 18 years. "Those are the very banners
that the Christian church flies. We're seeking and promoting the very
same things; we just don't communicate enough."
Christians at the fair can recount a moment when someone has rejoiced,
and even cried, at the sight of another believer.
Sitterley recalled a moment several years ago when he was wearing a
shirt with the Christian fish on it, and a dreadlocked Jamaican stopped
him.
"He goes, 'Ah, you're a Christian mon, I'm a Christian too,' " he said.
"He lifts up his shirt, and he's got the same symbol I had, but it's
scarred, branded on his chest. I said, 'Whoa, you're a lot more hard
core than I am; mine's silk-screened.' "
But in other fairgoers, such symbols can produce volatile reactions.
At the Pattisons's booth, very little is visible of their strong
convictions - a small laminated sign bearing a cross and a verse from
Mark hangs above where volunteers will hand-squeeze about 4,000 pounds
of organic oranges over the course of the fair. Jesse and Elaine wear
small crosses around their necks.
The pair, who live in Deadwood, silently donate their proceeds every
year to a charity: Last year their money helped install 67 fishing ponds
in lesser-developed nations, Jesse said.
But they are also known to bring out a homemade sign and stand in the
crowds, which reached 17,500 Saturday, offering to pray with anyone who
wishes to do so. Other times, they hand out religious literature.
But they never approach anyone, Jesse said.
"We believe in the dignity of mankind," he said. "People are going to
make their choices here, and we're in no way wanting to pound on people
or force people."
One year, a woman spotted them and "came totally unglued," Jesse said.
She went to the fair's conflict booth and demanded that they be thrown
out - a request that was ultimately denied by fair staff.
"I suppose that a lot of people at the Country Fair would categorize
themselves as spiritual but not religious," booth coordinator Helton
said. "I think there's a lot of backlash of people thinking Christianity
and conservatism go hand and hand."
But the Pattisons - who value organic farming, land stewardship, helping
the poor and healthy living - say they have very little in common with
the stereotype.
"I'm not a Christian because of politics," Elaine, 49, said. "I'm a
Christian because of the change of Jesus Christ in my life."
Across the fair, Sherry Lou Shaw, who owns Sherry Lou's Navajo Velvet,
hangs soft velvet flags painted with many different names for Jesus
along the top of her booth.
The Takilma, Ore., resident, whose son-in-law is a pastor, said she
often hears anti-Christian talk from the neighboring stage. Sitting at
her antique sewing machine, she also notices people who will stand
outside of her booth, cross their arms and scowl, saying things like,
"She'll get over it."
"It's something that isn't that easy for us," said Shaw, who wore a gold
velvet skirt and many beaded necklaces. "They think to be a Christian
you have to have a tie and suit. It's not about that, it's about loving
Jesus."
Pastor Sitterley said each year he finds himself defending and
discussing his religion.
During one conversation, a follower of the Dalai Lama listed atrocities
he said the Christian church was responsible for. Sitterley said he
shocked the man by adding to it.
"I said, whatever you do, don't confuse 2,000 years of 'church-ianity'
with the teachings of Jesus Christ - it doesn't change the fact that the
teaching of Jesus Christ, of loving your fellow man, is true."
However, Sitterley said that among other pastors and some parishioners,
there is an equal amount of disdain for the people who flock to the
fair. Some feathers have been ruffled when the church uses tie dye
tablecloths and peace signs, he said.
"I say, this is a big part of our community," Sitterley said. "And if we
blow them off like some in the Christian community have, it's a big
mistake."
~