Reflections on the Christian Writers Conference Spring of 2025
There is an excitement that ignites a place when people who delight in the same thing are brought together. This was the case in the rooms of Rathburn Hall on February 21st and 22nd when Grove City College hosted the Christian Writers Conference on Wendell Berry. Scholars, students, and aficionados of Berry came from all around the country to present in and attend panels, a conference banquet, and a catered lunch. Although Wendell Berry himself declined the invitation to visit (due to age, work, and a disinclination toward travel), he was represented in every conversation through his writing.
During the keynote address on Friday afternoon, writer and musician Andrew Peterson spoke about delight: delighting in apple cobbler, bees, artifacts, neighbors, and practices that join us to realities greater than ourselves. Peterson claimed that delight is incomplete until it is expressed. He discussed the implications of this in eating, writing, singing, and other endeavors. While enthusing over beekeeping, Peterson reminisced about the first time he ever tasted honey from his own bees; it nearly caused him to weep. Having served as a watchful beekeeper, he could better recognize the apian world and delight in its fruits. This story built up to the following comment: “Love of the little things gives power to the whole.” As I engaged in the conference, I realized that all of life is a series of tiny connections that often lead to great and greater views. Many of the conference attendees began their study of Wendell Berry with an appreciation for one specific literary piece, followed by a subsequent expression of delight, whether that was writing an essay or buying a farm. This action then steered them toward the forum at Grove City College, where they shared their unique avenues to a common subject. One walk through San Francisco, one bird, one asterisk, one conversation, one song, one class, one correlation seen between Berry and Levertov or William Carlos Williams – each item an impetus for involvement in the Wendell Berry community. One little thing is all it takes to change the course of a life. At the evening banquet, I said a simple “hello” to an older lady sitting alone. She had driven all the way to Grove City straight from Texas in order to attend the conference and receive a CCL Lifetime Achievement Award after 40 years of writing. Because of my one-word greeting, I left this conversation with a free copy of her latest book, a fistful of insight, and the privilege of having met Diane Glancy.
In all his writing, Wendell Berry understands that size is no determinant of value. He never underestimates the importance of small farms, small communities, small opinions, small plants, and small animals. In his novel, Jayber Crow, the barber of Port William naps in the woods and wakes up covered in spiderwebs. “In the darkness a large black-and-yellow spider had woven a perfect web right above me, guying it to the log, several elderberry stems, and my shirt. I eased out from under it as carefully as I could, but not without damaging it. In my bewilderment, I spent several perfectly crazy minutes trying to fix it. But of course, a man can’t make a spider’s web any more than he can make a world.” Looking at the creation of an itsy bitsy spider, Berry sees a cosmos, the Maker of the cosmos, and his place in relation to the Maker. This appreciation of the miniature weaves him into the web of history and eternity alike. During his explication, English professor, Dr. Andrew Harvey, reasoned that Berry is not compelled to climb a “sunne-beam” because “the cosmos is in the here and now.” Professor at Houghton University, Dr. Laurie A. Dashnau, reinforced that, “Berry has no shame or anger in his liturgy of the ordinary. It is what helps him to be a good father, husband, farmer, and writer.”
Jesus could have relayed any message about the kingdom of heaven. He could have endlessly gushed over glory, majesty, omnipotence, endlessness, and perfection. He could have forced the eyes of men open to behold what words could never tell. What did he say instead? The kingdom of heaven is like unto a grain of mustard seed. The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven. These are unattractive, barely visible things. But seed and leaven are endowed with life and in life there is the power of growth. Eventually, the seed rises and spreads as the greatest plant in the garden and the leaven lifts the entire loaf.
If Berry’s Port William is any indication, our society seems to have forgotten the promise in humility and quietness. Our attention pivots on what is flashy, deafening, outlandish, and enormous. The American dream and silver screen have long told stories of our country as a place where anyone can “make it big” and cram their bulging pockets with fortune and fame. Although individualism is an American value, being a member of society also entails filling a place, no matter how humble. American citizenship means belonging to a kinship far deeper, older, and stronger than the independent individual.
After the final panels, I approached the conference director, Dr. Jeffrey Bilbro, a scholar and friend of Wendell Berry, to ask why it was important to delight in little things. He thought for half a wide-eyed second and then said, “The particular loves are the portals to God.”
I have always been fascinated by little things. Perhaps this is why Berry is one of my favorite authors, Robert Frost a favorite poet, and Norman Rockwell a favorite painter. These artists focus on what is immediate, commonplace, and precious. They dismantle the myth that people must scrabble around the earth questing for purpose and beauty. These things are easily within reach, in the here and now, waiting to be seen. We must delight in what is ours at present. In the words of Henry James, “Try to be one of the people on whom nothing is lost!” In appreciating what is often overlooked, our connections and communities will expand and include other observant, kindred spirits. When we attend to wads of golden honeycomb, friendly introductions, and gossamer spider webs, our delight is bound to increase.
