Clinton is out of shape. Let’s shape it.
Many of you have seen the recent release of some census data that confirms what most of us already knew; some folks have been leaving Clinton. Actually, a lot of folks have been leaving Clinton. We have seen nearly a 10% decrease in population in 10 years. That puts our civic membership at about 24,000. And that lands us the unhappy participation medal of being the fastest declining population in Iowa.
But nobody’s pulling the fire alarm; well, some are but nobody’s moving real quick off the recliner. The folks here have heard this cry of despair before. In fact, it’s actually not that bad compared to the exodus inspired by the plague of the 1980’s farm crises. That debacle laid waste to tens of thousands of manufacturing jobs in this area. The disruption back than was biblical. It was like the ghost of Tom Hanks drove the polar express right up to everyones doorstep, swiftly punched their tickets and time clocks, and chugged south to the enchanted land of gainful employment. The old joke back then was “last one out turns off the lights.”
But the lights stayed on. Not everyone bought the one way U-Haul to Texas. Despite dad’s insistence on plugging the free flow of electricity to uninhabited rooms, those left at home were unwilling or forgot to turn off the lights; and they’ve been eating a lot of pizza and energy drinks in the basement. And like teenagers looking up from a 5 hour binge of Halo, some of them are just now noticing they’re alone.
The above illustration is ridiculous, I know. But it sets up the right question: What happens when a people in decline recognize they are in decline and set out to do something about it? And as they set out to do something about it they will inevitably ask, is there something missing here? What’s the missing piece? Is there some shape or form that dots my landscape that should or shouldn’t be here that is causing this malady. And to answer that question requires vision.
‘Where there is no vision the people perish.’ That’s an old saying that comes from Proverbs 29:18. To flip that saying to its positive—where there is vision people flourish. That means that a people who possess vision is a people who sees the pathway to flourishing; they see the discernible shape of The Good Life. But of coarse, the present situation in Clinton is not The Good Life. And I don’t need to trot out anymore statistics to convince anyone of that. That’s not to say there aren’t people in Clinton who are living A good life; there are plenty of Jeep Wranglers on lift kits to prove that. But what I’m saying is last time I checked creamy Anderson Erickson milk wasn’t bubbling up out of the Eagle Point fountain and honey wasn’t flowing down the thousands stairs. Ok, maybe your heaven is vegan, but you get the point. We’re not exactly living in heaven.
But that raises the next point. To really have vision we have to see the shape of The Good Life and work toward it as an ideal. To have progress we need a model. We need to see the plans for the New Jerusalem. We need a shape to point at. G.K. Chesterton preferred to call this reform because “reform implies form.” He said, “it implies that we are trying to shape the world in a particular image; to make it something that we see already in our minds… reform is a metaphor for reasonable and determined men [and women of coarse]: it means that we see a certain thing out of shape and we mean to put it into shape. And we know what shape.”
What Clinton needs are reformers; men and woman of imagination who recognize Clinton is out of shape, see the shape of the real Good Life, and work for it. Another way to put it is to say we need a clear vision for the Kingdom. And fortunately for us there is only one King and one true Kingdom. That helpfully limits our options. Jesus is that King and heaven is his Kingdom (Col 1:13). And fortunate still we are given clear instruction on how to pray and work for earth to take the shape of heaven. He has given us, as his followers, the power and prerogative to grab our shovels and get to work.
The really cool thing about doing dirt work in Clinton is that it has been thoroughly composted. And I’m talking about that awful nasty stuff that really makes the garden grow. No, I’m not talking about the rendering plant. I’m talking about the spiritual compost of failed expectations, knee buckling disillusionment, and decades of hope put to shame that has fertilized the soil of our hearts for the seeds of the gospel. It’s amazing how spreading decaying excrement on the soil of a place prepares for growth. And I don’t need Iowa State to tell me that our soil is primed for gospel growth.
The question really comes down to this: Where are the Lord’s reformers? The soil is ready. The clay is on the potters wheel. The tools are oiled and hanging in the shed. The plans and patterns are in the King’s Holy Scriptures. Where are the reformers who are willing to roll up their sleeves, plant the seeds, and pray for God to give the growth?