A couple of weeks ago I shared with my Wednesday night class that I am refurbishing an old wood-burning cook stove. The stove was Donna’s grandmother’s kitchen stove, which she used on their farm for many years. Donna can remember standing on the “cooler” side of the stove (furthest from the fire) to help her grandmother. The stove has been in her uncle’s barn for nearly 30 years since the auction that took place after both her grandparents had died. It’s a white enamel stove with a total of six burners and another section for keeping things warm. In addition to the oven below it has a large copper water receptacle where hot water was always available (the stove was always hot). The fire burned on the far left side.
Having had a hard working life before going into the barn, the 30 years of barn life wasn’t kind to the stove. The entire cast iron top and all the burners are covered in layers of rust. Anyplace the enamel was chipped off has rusted. The interior is shot – it will never cook again. The firebox was shot long ago and the decades of humidity and temperature change finished the job. I was surprised to find that the ashbin was still full when we looked at it in the barn!
Donna’s uncle is slowly cleaning out his barn as one of his daughter’s considers whether they can use the barn as a rented space for receptions, so while we were in Pennsylvania for Christmas we went to look at the stove to see if Donna wanted it. Her sister had passed on it, and if we didn’t want it, it was likely going to end up at the dump or with the junk man. Childhood memories of grandparents are powerful things, and so with a little imagination I was able to come up with a way to “use” the stove as a decorative kind of sideboard if she wanted it. We brought it home with us in a trailer.
The thing weighs a ton. Stripped down of all the removable pieces on top, anything that was readily removed from the interior, and with the steel back piece removed…it still weighed a ton when three of us man-handled it into the trailer. Somehow I managed to get it out of the trailer by myself. So far I’ve power washed the whole thing, getting rid of 98% of the soot, and I’ve begun disassembling it piece by piece. I am relatively confident that I can get the exterior cleaned up and refinished. While the interior will never be usable again, from the outside, it should be presentable enough to live in the house.
The trick is, I know nothing about refurbishing old stoves. This is one of those learn as you go projects. I am always willing, if not eager, to learn new things, especially when working with my hands. If I don’t know how to do something, I will teach myself to do it. I love a good how-to video on YouTube. That’s how I taught myself to change my own break pads and rotors, for example. (I’ve done all four of both on my Camry, and I’m still alive to tell the tale!) I used to have to look to books for how-to guides, like when I remodeled the kitchen and the bathroom of our first home in Pennsylvania. I remember that when I proudly showed Donna our (only) bathroom torn down to the studs she seemed only mildly impressed. As she looked around she asked, “Can you put it back together?” My confident reply then was, “I think so.”
With the stove, I have learned how to get the rust off the smaller parts on the cast iron top (vinegar and water baths followed by steel brushing). I have also discovered a vendor that supplies custom piano hinges to replace the rusted ones on the oven and side doors. I’ve learned how to set up my own spray paint shed in the garage (a pop-up canopy with lots of plastic sheeting, shop lights, and ventilation to fresh air). I’m still taking things apart and busting rusted bolts loose (or cutting them off because they are fused into a big lump of rust), so I’m not ready to start the fun work of making it look good just yet. I’m getting a growing pile of parts on the garage floor. Donna hasn’t asked if I can put it back together yet. I imagine she’s decided that I haven’t yet failed to learn what I need to know to make repairs and put things back together. I learn quickly, and with the right how-to videos, I’m all set.
This is perhaps why I have been drawn more and more toward Benedictine spirituality in recent years. It’s no surprise why I’ve begun offering classes that delve deeper into the spiritual how-to manual of a sixth century Italian monk. He lived in the days before YouTube, but his “rule” for monastic communities is as close as it gets. Although it is incredibly simple, the Rule of St. Benedict has been credited with playing a major role in the development of the Western world. After the fall of Rome when the European continent entered the dark ages, it was the monastic communities of the Church that became centers of learning, leadership training, and so much more. Generation after generation of monks and nuns lived by the Rule, as they provided stability, education, leadership and so much more over the centuries. Even today the rule is still quite popular and useful among monastic communities. More importantly it speaks to individuals outside of orders too.
Our own Anglican tradition was heavily influence by the monastic traditions of that same time period, so one might (and several have) say that Benedict also had a great influence on each of us who still hold to a pattern of prayer and spiritual discipline that has it’s roots in those monastic communities from so long ago. Benedict’s approach to things was about staying in community despite the headaches and the challenges of doing so (which sounds familiar given the recent news in our Communion). He taught about God’s presence in our everyday lives and our need to seek it out where we are, not running off to find God on far off mountain tops or sitting at the feet of some guru.
Benedict taught about the stability that comes from a rootedness in community and an anchoring of oneself to God. He taught about the obedience of listening for God in all sorts of places and situations like our brothers and sisters, and even ourselves. And he taught that our spiritual goal is a conversion of life as we become more and more like Christ, and ever better at listening to and responding to God. It’s actually not as complicated as we tend to think it is. It’s not the only model for a spiritual life, yet I have found it to be both compelling and helpful for me.
At times I feel as though I’ve disassembled parts of my life in one way or another, by my own choice or actions, or at times by things outside my control. I haven’t always been sure I knew how to put it all back together, but I’m learning a little bit more every day. I have a hunch that I’m a bit of a longer-term project than the stove currently in pieces in my garage. I’ll probably get those pieces all cleaned up and refinished and reassembled long before I can say the same about myself. The spiritual journey is a life-long journey after all. But for this stage of it I have my guide, even if it doesn’t come in video form. I’m pleased to have found this particular how-to guide, and plan to use it for many years to come.
Tom+
Almighty and everlasting God, your precepts are the wisdom of a loving Father: Give us grace, following the teaching and example of your servant Benedict, to walk with loving and willing hearts in the school of the Lord's service; let your ears be open to our prayers; and prosper with your blessing the work of our hands; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.