The Prairie Panicle No. 20
A monthly report from West of 98
Welcome to West of 98! In addition to my weekly essays, I write a mid-month newsletter called The Prairie Panicle. It summarizes my writing over the previous month and offers additional reading/listening/watching recommendations that strike my mood in the moment.
The Bishop of Rome
Let me start off by stating that I am not Catholic.
It’s not every day, though, that a new pope is selected. In the month since I last published The Prairie Panicle, Pope Frances passed away shortly after Easter, the Catholic Church undertook its formal process of mourning, the College of Cardinals gathered in a conclave, and Robert Francis Prevost was introduced as the first-American born pope, taking the name Leo XIV.
Why am I writing about this since, once again, I am not Catholic? In my 40 (almost 41) years, this is only the fourth serving pope and the third papal conclave. Unique moments in world history deserve to be celebrated as such.*
*I do not apply this same logic to celebrating the coronation of a new monarch in England, because we decided on July 4, 1776 that we were no longer obligated to pay attention to all that. I am sharing this within the body of the newsletter, rather than as a footnote, to see how hard my Anglophile wife will roll her eyes at this.
It is readily apparent that the pope is the most visible Christian on the planet. The Christian Church is comprised of innumerable denominations and sub-denominations, but the Church is ultimately united in its belief of salvation through the resurrected Jesus Christ. In virtually every church, its lineage dates back to the foundation laid by Peter and Paul, regardless of when the current affiliation went its separate way. Moreover, a strong Catholic Church through which the Holy Spirit moves across the world is good for the Christian Church at large. Positive representations of Christians and swelling enthusiasm for Christ is a good thing. When the Catholic Church (or any other major denomination) is rocked by scandal or troubled by malaise, the Church at large rarely benefits. One day, the Church will be reconciled, we’ll overcome our disagreements on the sacraments and doctrine, and we’ll all worship as one. Until then, I pray for every branch of Christ’s Church to grow stronger and spread the Gospel in a fallen world. But then again, I am an unreconstructed Methodist who welcomes all believing Christians to the table for Holy Communion.
I am working on an upcoming essay centered around Leo XIV’s choice of name and his predecessor in that name, Leo XIII. In the meantime, here are a few items worth reading about this historic event:
“Long Drives and Short Homilies: How Father Bob Became Pope Leo” details the journey of a lifetime, from the Southside of Chicago, through the violence-ridden countryside of Peru, to St. Peter’s Basilica. Story after story recounts that Leo’s friends and family knew he was uniquely equipped at a young age. I am struck by the note that an older neighbor woman told him as a child that he would be the first American-born pope. That is beautiful. I can think of special encouragement given to me by older men and women when I was a child and how it still impacts my life (none of them projected me for the papacy). I can only imagine Pope Leo’s feelings about that woman!
“The Pope versus the populists” is a look at the Church’s historic role in geopolitics, how that informs its modern-day role in world affairs, and the nature in which Church doctrine defies easy political labels. That latter point is something that Protestants and Catholics alike should heed and remind themselves regularly. Christ does not play on a red team or a blue team and if our view of the Church ever begins to fit neatly within modern-day political labels, we should probably go back and do more reading of the Good Word.
Finally, this is a bit of pre-reading for that upcoming essay. In 1891, Pope Leo XIII issued Rerum Novarum, an encyclical concerning the condition of the working class and the manner in which capital and labor should relate to one another and the Church’s role in it all. It is one of the most important writings ever issued by a pope. For reasons I will expand on later, it has deeply influenced my own worldview. Rerum Novarum was written at the height of the Industrial Revolution in a rapidly-changing world. It is no surprise that Leo XIV, who adopted the Leo moniker specifically to pick up on the work of Leo XIII, has already made several public references to this work. It is beautiful and thoughtful and freely available on the Vatican’s website.
What I’ve Written
On Earth Day, I reviewed some of my thoughts on care of the Earth, our responsibilities for that task, and why this topic means so much to me:
I returned to “The Table,” one of my most popular essays about the coffee-drinking table at a long-closed restaurant in Stamford that was recently demolished, a bit of news that sparked a new set of mixed feelings about a past that was and a future that is to come in our community.
On Easter Sunday, I was hit by the story of Mary Magdalene mistaking Jesus for the gardener and a sudden understanding that it was no mistake at all. I work out my thoughts on God’s insistence in this message here:
For Mental Health Awareness Month, I expanded on a prior essay about the classic John Wayne/John Ford film “The Searchers” and the cautionary message of Ethan Edwards’s heroism:
Online Reading
I will read most anything that Lenny Wells writes and you should too. You can find him as Orchard Keeper on Twitter and on his own website. He’s newly-published at Front Porch Republic on a recent trip to the Iberian Peninsula. “The Full Life of Empty Rural Spain” is worth your time.
Jared Phillips is a writer, farmer, and historian in Arkansas. His work is new to me but his new essay “Bobwhite” at Front Porch Republic was aptly described by my friend
as “astonishingly good.” Give it a read. This teaser should be enough to intrigue people like me: “Every year that we farm in the old ways, more of nature returns, despite the mistakes we make. Each return teaches hope."Book Recommendation
If you ask my favorite book about Texas, I’ll always answer with three: Lonesome Dove, Goodbye to a River, and The Time It Never Rained. It’s been a few years since I read Elmer Kelton’s gripping novel about the drought of the 1950s. I decided it was time for a re-read but I waited until our deluge of April rains before I dove in. I’ve read it a half-dozen times over the years, but like most good literature, the dimensions and complexities reveal themselves differently each time.
If you’ve never read it, I cannot recommend it enough. It may be a work of fiction, but the story is very real. The final words of Kelton’s introduction sum it up:
Many people over the years have asked me if I based Charlie Flagg on their fathers. My mother was convinced that I wrote it about my father. The truth is, I did, in part. I wrote it about him and about many, many others I knew, people who still retained an old frontier heritage of fighting their own fight, testing one strategy and when it failed trying another, but above all simply enduring, and enduring.
They are not the traditional Western fictional heroes, standing up to a villain for one splendid moment of glory. They are quiet but determined men and women who stand their ground year after year in a fight they can never finally win, against an unforgiving enemy they know will return to challenge them again and again so long as they live.
They are the true heroes.
Wendell Berry Read of the Month
In 1999, Wendell published “In Distrust of Movements” at Orion Magazine. It’s a good look at why movements of all kinds are destined to fail by their own natural evolution or the perils of human nature. He takes a stab at the manner in which a hypothetical movement (called, of course, “The Nameless Movement for Better Ways of Doing”) could succeed. If you’ve ever been part of an organization that had good intentions but lost its way, you’ll appreciate this essay.
Listening Recs
Michelle Rathman hosts a podcast about rural policy (especially healthcare) called The Rural Impact. She does good work and she was kind enough to invite me on for an interview about my writing at West of 98 and my myriad opinions, ideas, and passions for rural America. Check it out!
is a frequent source of recommendations in this newsletter. He appeared on Abilene’s public radio station KACU last week to discuss the influence of the new pope on the broader world and non-Catholics. It’s a worthy listen and a good primer for my future essay on this topic. It starts at about the 11 minute mark.If you missed it last month, check out my appearance at
with Casey Spinks to discuss John Graves and the changing politics, economy, and culture in Texas.Another “if you missed it” appearance: my interview on the Texas Standard, the statewide public radio news program to discuss rural public schools and revitalizing rural communities. You can listen here.
West of 98 Store
I just picked up some great commissions at Bookshop.org, thanks to some generous book shoppers! Any purchase at Bookshop supports independent bookstores instead of the Amazon leviathan, but if you purchase through my West of 98 bookstore. I receive a small commission that goes towards this humble project.
James Decker is the Mayor of Stamford, Texas and the creator of the West of 98 website and the Rural Church and State and West of 98 podcasts. Contact James and subscribe to these essays at westof98.substack.com and subscribe to him wherever podcasts are found.