Lincoln Highway (Excerpt)

“At last week's Sunday service Reverend Pike read a parable from the Gospels in which Jesus and his disciples, having arrived in a village, are invited by a woman into her home. Having made them all comfortable this woman, Mark thought, retreats into her kitchen to fix them something to eat and all the while she's cooking and getting second helpings, her sister Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet. Eventually Martha has had enough and she lets her feelings be known, ‘Lord’ she says, ‘can't you see that my idler of a sister has left me to do all the work? Why don't you tell her to lend me a hand?’ or something to that effect. And Jesus, he replies, ‘Martha, you are troubled by too many things when only one thing is needful and that is Mary who has chosen the better way’. Well, I'm sorry, but if ever you needed proof that the Bible was written by a man, there you have it . . .

I believe that Noah built an ark and herded every manner of living thing up the gangplank two by two before it rained for 40 days and 40 nights. I am even willing to believe that Moses was spoken to by a burning bush, but I am not willing to believe that Jesus Christ, our Savior, who at the drop of a hat would heal a leper or restore sight to the blind, would turn his back on a woman who was taking care of a household. So I don't blame him. Whom I blame is Matthew, Mark, Luke and John and every other man who served as priest or preacher since . . .

Any woman who's gone to the trouble of making strawberry preserves can tell you how a man sees the world. . . Making preserves is a time-consuming venture, just picking the berries takes you half a day. Then you have to wash and stem the fruit. You have to sterilize the lids and jars. Once you combine the ingredients you have to set them on simmer and watch them like a hawk, never letting yourself stray more than a few feet from the stove to make sure they don't overcook. When they're ready, you pour the preserves, seal the jars and lug them into the pantry one tray at a time. Only then can you start the process of cleaning up which is a job in itself... It is above all else unnecessary thanks to Mr. Smucker at the grocery where there are 15 varieties of jam selling for 19 cents a jar, season in and season out. In fact, jam has become so readily available you can practically buy it at the hardware store. So yes, the making of Strawberry preserves is time consuming, old-fashioned and unnecessary. And why, you might ask, do I bother to do it? I do it because it's time consuming. Whoever said that something worthwhile shouldn't take time? . . . Time is that which God uses to separate the idol from the industrious. . . What the worthy endeavor requires is planning, effort, attentiveness and the willingness to clean up. . .
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I make preserves in the manner that was taught to me by my mother, God rest her soul. She made preserves in the manner that was taught to her by her mother and grandma made preserves in the manner that was taught to her by hers and so on and so forth back through the ages all the way to Eve or at least as far as Martha. And I do it because it's unnecessary. For what is kindness but the performance of an act that is both beneficial to another and not required? There is no kindness in paying a bill. There is no kindness in getting up at dawn to slap the pigs or milk the cows or gather the eggs from the hen house. For that matter, there is no kindness in making dinner or in cleaning the kitchen after your father heads upstairs without so much as a word of thanks. There is no kindness in latching the doors and turning out the lights or in picking up the clothes from the bathroom floor in order to put them in the hamper. There is no kindness in taking care of a household because your only sister had the good sense to get herself married and moved to Pensacola. No, I said to myself while climbing into bed and switching off the light. There is no kindness in any of that. For kindness begins where necessity ends.”

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