The Story of a Stave Church

 

 

“The Bell in the Lake” is a compelling and well written novel by best-selling Norwegian author, Lars Mytting.  The story is set in Gudbrandsdal, a beautiful valley of lakes and rivers where farm families are eking out a subsistence living on small farms on steep mountain sides; their large families living in poverty most of the year.

It is 1880, which is etched in my mind as the year my grandparents, Olaf Aaker and Ellen Solberg, were born – not in Norway but as children of immigrants who had left rural Norway in the 1840s and 50s to come to settle in Minnesota.  My great- great-grandparents Knut and Mari Aaker left a similar rural setting (Telemark) as that described in this book.  From what I have read about the conditions in rural Norway that prompted my ancestors to emigrate, Mytting gives a realistic depiction of rural Norway at that time; very small farms, poverty, high infant mortality, seasonal hunger, but also strong community bonds and the central role of the local Lutheran church, especially the pastor. 

There are three principal characters; Astrid Hekne, whose forefathers had forged beautiful twin bells for the village’s Stave church in the sixteenth century. The bells were a memorial to and named for twin sisters, literally joined at the hip, but still able to weave beautiful tapestries that developed a semi-occult legend which persisted through the centuries.  The bells, which are said to ring on their own in times of danger, play a central role in the story.   Astrid has dreams of a life beyond the drudgery of daily life on the farm where marriage and a large family would be expected to be her destiny in life.

Kai Schweigaard has recently arrived in the village of Butangen to serve as the new pastor in the centuries old stave church*.  The young pastor has bold plans to replace the drafty old church with a new one, and prominent Germans in Dresden offer an opportunity.   They want to disassemble the church and send it to Germany to be reassembled as a kind of museum.  This will provide funds to build the new church, which will be a large and functional – though not artistic – building.  The Germans send artist and architect Gerhard Schonauer to make detailed drawings and a plan for carefully taking down the church and shipping it to Dresden.  The author develops intriguing relationships between these three characters related to their personal needs and distinct feelings about the stave church.

The story melds old Norse myths and legends with Norwegian church and political history, as rural culture and customs confront a modernizing world.  The plot develops with dramatic tension and effect based on historical reality, great character development and overall good writing.  I came upon numerous lines that caused me to pause and ponder – imagining life, faith, culture, birth and death in that time and place.   As always in a good story, decisions and choices are made that lead to irreversible and sometimes tragic results.

I wonder about the hard life and challenges my ancestors faced in Norway in the mid-1800s as the family discussed leaving everything behind and emigrating to America.  I know a lot about the place they came to, but I never went to see the place from which they came.

This is the first book of a trilogy. I look forward to reading the second,” The Reindeer Hunters”, which picks up where this one ends.

*Stave churches were constructed between 1150 and 1350 and were framed around wood pilers (staver in Norwegian) and had Christian as well as Viking symbols and styles. Below is a picture of one of the most famous of the existing churches, the Borgund Stave church.  There are only 28 surviving stave churches in Norway.  Several replicas have been constructed in the United States, including one which we have visited in Moorhead, Minnesota.

https://www.lifeinnorway.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/exterior-borgund-church-768x594.jpg

JR and Kyle

 

The homeless are ever-present on the streets I traverse every day here in Albuquerque, especially in the part of the city where we live.  I usually drive right by them.  But I can’t deny feelings that arise inside as I wonder about their lives and situations, and also a twinge of guilt while trying to avoid judgement of them for their situations.  (Well, he looks like an able-bodied young man!  Why isn’t he working?”) Occasionally we roll down the window and hand out a dollar or two – though I realize that a dollar today is worth even less than ten cents was in the days when the phrase “buddy, can you spare a dime” was coined, perhaps during the depression. 

Through our church we donate to several organizations that work with the homeless, which I rationalize as a better alternative than giving to “panhandlers” holding signs that say, “anything helps – God bless you”.  We have volunteered several times at two of the organizations, where we learned about both the scope of the problem and their proposed solutions.  I do believe these programs do much good. 

What is the answer to this burgeoning social and human problem?  The New Mexico legislature struggled with that question in their recent session.  Many bills introduced and a few passed regarding housing, health care and costs of groceries.  I am glad that good people are working on the problem, and we advocated for one of the low-cost-housing bills this session. 

Recently I befriended two homeless men who are regulars on the nearby street just across Walmart’s parking lot.  Kyle and R.J. sit on the curb near Wendys, and I have had a few visits with them, offering to buy them meals at Wendys where we could sit and chat.   They have told me about their daily routine – sleeping in a secluded spot “behind a wall” along a trail, getting up early before someone (i.e. police) sees them.  Kyle emphasized that they pick up their trash and dispose of it, and then they go to the local dog park where their recently acquired dog gets exercise.   They stay away from Central Avenue, the street heavily populated with homeless; “lots of them approach us asking if we have beans or clear” slang for meth and fentanyl – and I believe them when they say they are uneasy about addicts and that they don’t use.  They are also apprehensive of crime, a pervasive problem in Albuquerque – “there was a homicide over by the bridge on I-40 two nights ago, and we had slept near there the night before”, said RJ.

Kyle has an obvious limp and uses a wheelchair, though he can walk the short distance to the bathroom in Walmart, using the wheelchair as a walker.  He had seizures awhile back when they were in Oregon, resulting in nerve damage in his leg – the right one quivers as he stands and talks with me.  He also lost several teeth when the seizures threw him to the ground.

RJ is the stronger of the two and now a type of caregiver to Kyle.  Neither of them has been with family members for years, though there are phone contacts.  They seem to be committed to each other, so they are not totally alone.   RJ also has health issues, a hernia that needs attention and bad teeth.  I encouraged them to contact Health for the Homeless, but the prospect of dealing with the health system seems a bit daunting – just thinking about how to mobilize themselves for an appointment.  Having a dog adds to the challenges of moving about.

They have been “traveling together” for a decade, and I asked what they see for their future.  RJ seems a bit depressed, but both talk of their hope of get a piece of land.  Kyle said they saw a note on a bulletin board when they were in Taos – “you can get an acre of land for $500” he exclaimed.  I pictured in my mind an arid and isolated piece of desert – how would they subsist there?  Their hopes are up, though.  R.J. has been waiting for a check, his inheritance from his mother who recently died.  The last time I talked to him he said that after many calls, the insurance company had told them the check is in the mail.  How would anybody get along these days without a cell phone?

And then they were gone.  I don’t see them anymore when I drive down Eubank Avenue, but I think about them.  I picture them in my mind as children of God and worthy of dignity.  For me, Kyle and JR put human faces on the statistics of an estimated 2,740 homeless in Albuquerque.

The last thing Kyle said to me was, “thanks for the meal, and thanks for talking to us”.