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as entertaining, contest on the Bible. Aunt Bern's daughter, Kay, her best friend, Frances, my sister, Chris, and I would be called together by Aunt Bern. Although Kay and Frances were older, Chris and I were never made to feel less able.
Aunt Bern, like the other Scottish Presbyterians of her generation, was well versed in the Bible. In the home of her childhood the family gathered every evening for Scripture readings. At her school, mostly attended by children of the early settlers of Walton County, there was instruction in Old Testament stories illustrating God's hand in history, the laws and the prophets. At Sunday School and Church there was chronological teaching of accounts of Jesus’ life, His commandments and the growth of the Christian Church.
Because memorization and knowledge of the Bible were so cent : to Aunt Bern's life, she was determined the children of her family would also be informed. And, what Aunt Bern considered important was transmitted to us with the strength of her spirit and the engaging dominance of her delightful personality.
“Come on, girls," she'd announce. "It's time to see who knows the most answers to questions about the Bible."
We'd quickly rally to this challenge and to the animation in Aunt Bern's voice. Seated in front of her, the four of us, with my sister the youngest, would eagerly await the first question. There were no prizes, but each of us hoped to be the first to answer. That is, the three cousins did.
Frances, who usually knew all the answers, was more restrained and never flaunted her knowledge.
“All right," Aunt Bern would begin, “who can name all the books of the Old Testament?" In unison we would all begin confidently, "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy." Frances and Kay made it to the end while Chris and I watched their lips and echoed their recitations.
"Good," Aunt Bern would exclaim with enthusiasm, her eyes dancing with delight. "Now, where was Jonah headed when he was swallowed by the whale?"
"Was he going fishing?" I ventured. Aunt Bern shook her head.
"I think he was going to Nineveh," said Frances quietly.
"That's right, Frances.”
“Marjy and Chris, you'll know this one. Who was Abraham's son?"
"Isaac," my sister Chris and I shouted, happy to get the spotlight.
“Was he Abraham's only and first born son?"
"Yes, yes," we proudly confirmed.
“Well,” Aunt Bern replied thoughtfully, "maybe not. Someone look up Genesis 16, verse 15, and tell us."
Kay, accustomed to her mother's technique of always looking things up, jumped up to consult the Bible and proclaimed, "No. Abraham's first son was Ishmael." "But," Kay continued, "I thought Sarah was Abraham's wife and they were old when Isaac was born, so where did Ishmael come from?”
My father had come into the room and with a teasing voice said to his sister, “Yes, Bernice, explain that, please. Did old Abraham have two wives? I'd really like to know about that?"
Aunt Bern, ignoring this, moved on saying, "All you have to remember is that Abraham had two sons." "But what happened to Ishmael?" my sister asked. Since Ishmael was news to us, we were very curious about him.
“All right," Aunt Bern would begin, “who can name all the books of the Old Testament?" In unison we would all begin confidently, "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy." Frances and Kay made it to the end while Chris and I watched their lips and echoed their recitations.
"Good," Aunt Bern would exclaim with enthusiasm, her eyes dancing with delight. "Now, where was Jonah headed when he was swallowed by the whale?"
"Was he going fishing?" I ventured. Aunt Bern shook her head.
"I think he was going to Nineveh," said Frances quietly.
"That's right, Frances.”
“Marjy and Chris, you'll know this one. Who was Abraham's son?"
"Isaac," my sister Chris and I shouted, happy to get the spotlight.
“Was he Abraham's only and first born son?"
"Yes, yes," we proudly confirmed.
“Well,” Aunt Bern replied thoughtfully, "maybe not. Someone look up Genesis 16, verse 15, and tell us."
Kay, accustomed to her mother's technique of always looking things up, jumped up to consult the Bible and proclaimed, "No. Abraham's first son was Ishmael." "But," Kay continued, "I thought Sarah was Abraham's wife and they were old when Isaac was born, so where did Ishmael come from?”
My father had come into the room and with a teasing voice said to his sister, “Yes, Bernice, explain that, please. Did old Abraham have two wives? I'd really like to know about that?"
Aunt Bern, ignoring this, moved on saying, "All you have to remember is that Abraham had two sons." "But what happened to Ishmael?" my sister asked. Since Ishmael was news to us, we were very curious about him.
“Well, honey, he and his mother were told to leave and were sent out into the desert."
I thought my tender-hearted sister would cry as with her vivid imagination she pictured this in her mind. "Did they die out there?” she persisted.
"No, they didn't, honey. Later, I'll tell you more. For now you can remember that Isaac became head of the tribes of Israel and Ishmael became head of the Arab people."
Before any more probing on this complication could occur, Aunt Bern moved to the New Testament.
“Where was Paul converted?" An easy question. We all knew the answer but let Chris answer triumphantly, "On the road to Damascus.”
“Who can name the places Paul visited to bring the good news of Christ?"
Once again we all began knowingly listing one or two places like Rome and Corinth with Kay going a bit further and Frances able to give all those strange-sounding ones, as Thessalonica, Galatia, Ephesus.
Since the Old Testament was the basis for much of the Bible memory work in those 1930s days in our community, Aunt Bern went back to that.
“Who led the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt?"
This was before Cecil B. DeMille and the Biblical movies, so we knew it was Moses, not Charlton Heston.
“Who were God's chosen people?"
Before any of us could answer, my father, still sitting at the back of the room, spoke up and emphatically stated, "The people of De Funiak Springs, Florida!"
"Malcolm," Aunt Bern said, laughing with mock consternation, “stop confusing the children."
"Well, Bernice, it's sometimes confusing to me. What do you think, girls," Daddy continued, “was the whole world created in just six days?"
"Yes, yes."
"Ah, well," Daddy said, “I wonder, don't you?"
"And Daddy says the Garden of Eden was in Geneva, Alabama, where Mamma grew up,” I added. "Because Mamma thinks Geneva is Paradise."
“Well, my dear, your daddy likes to tease," Aunt Bern replied. Before the Bible quiz could resume, I thought of something else.
"Why was it scary?" challenged Kay, who never expressed any fears.
"Because it was a big old dark house with no lights on upstairs where the children were sent to sleep. I could hear this really strange music. No one was talking, just the sounds like I've never heard before. It went on for hours and hours. I guess Mr. Carmichael really misses his Chinese friends.”
“Those Methodists do love to travel," my father stated.
“Malcolm,” my aunt responded with some exasperation, “they are simply following the commandment to 'Go ye into all the world’. It's not that Mr. Carmichael likes to travel to far away places. Presbyterians also are in Asia and in Africa."
“But Bernice, neither the Methodists nor the Presbyterians, or the Baptists or Catholics for that matter, can Christianize the whole world.
Don't you think God loves Buddhists and Hindus, and maybe even the Mohammedans, as much as he does Christians and Jews?"
Before Aunt Bern could respond to what was becoming a serious theological question, my sister asked, "What are Buddhists, Daddy?"
Kay spoke up and said, "They're statues that we see in the Chinese shop in Pensacola.”
“Is that where you got the sneezing powder that you took to the picture show and caused everyone, including Miss Annie Davis, to sneeze?" I turned to ask Kay and Frances.
Frances, who could be depended on not to be involved in tricks like that, looked away. Kay didn't answer. She was having trouble not laughing as she savored the memory of this.
Aunt Bern, who probably wished she had not learned of this, put down the Bible and ended the session, which had gone awry. "Girls, I think that's enough for today.”
My sister, who was still worrying about all those little children in
China and Ishmael's Arab kin in the desert, asked one last question. "Aunt Bern, God cares about all the little children everywhere, doesn’t he?”
“Who led the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt?"
This was before Cecil B. DeMille and the Biblical movies, so we knew it was Moses, not Charlton Heston.
“Who were God's chosen people?"
Before any of us could answer, my father, still sitting at the back of the room, spoke up and emphatically stated, "The people of De Funiak Springs, Florida!"
"Malcolm," Aunt Bern said, laughing with mock consternation, “stop confusing the children."
"Well, Bernice, it's sometimes confusing to me. What do you think, girls," Daddy continued, “was the whole world created in just six days?"
"Yes, yes."
"Ah, well," Daddy said, “I wonder, don't you?"
"And Daddy says the Garden of Eden was in Geneva, Alabama, where Mamma grew up,” I added. "Because Mamma thinks Geneva is Paradise."
“Well, my dear, your daddy likes to tease," Aunt Bern replied. Before the Bible quiz could resume, I thought of something else.
"When we went to Geneva last week, we visited Mr. Carmichael who was a missionary to China. He loves China and the people and talked a lot about it, but the music on his phonograph was scary,” I recalled.
"Why was it scary?" challenged Kay, who never expressed any fears.
"Because it was a big old dark house with no lights on upstairs where the children were sent to sleep. I could hear this really strange music. No one was talking, just the sounds like I've never heard before. It went on for hours and hours. I guess Mr. Carmichael really misses his Chinese friends.”
“Those Methodists do love to travel," my father stated.
“Malcolm,” my aunt responded with some exasperation, “they are simply following the commandment to 'Go ye into all the world’. It's not that Mr. Carmichael likes to travel to far away places. Presbyterians also are in Asia and in Africa."
“But Bernice, neither the Methodists nor the Presbyterians, or the Baptists or Catholics for that matter, can Christianize the whole world.
Don't you think God loves Buddhists and Hindus, and maybe even the Mohammedans, as much as he does Christians and Jews?"
Before Aunt Bern could respond to what was becoming a serious theological question, my sister asked, "What are Buddhists, Daddy?"
Kay spoke up and said, "They're statues that we see in the Chinese shop in Pensacola.”
“Is that where you got the sneezing powder that you took to the picture show and caused everyone, including Miss Annie Davis, to sneeze?" I turned to ask Kay and Frances.
Frances, who could be depended on not to be involved in tricks like that, looked away. Kay didn't answer. She was having trouble not laughing as she savored the memory of this.
Aunt Bern, who probably wished she had not learned of this, put down the Bible and ended the session, which had gone awry. "Girls, I think that's enough for today.”
My sister, who was still worrying about all those little children in
China and Ishmael's Arab kin in the desert, asked one last question. "Aunt Bern, God cares about all the little children everywhere, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, honey, he does. I'm sure he does. Now let's all go and have a piece of caramel cake."
As Aunt Bern walked with quick, purposeful steps past my father, I heard him say, "Next week, Bernice, I'd like to hear you explain predestination."
“Malcolm, you are the limit! You know as much about predestination as Ido. Come on and have a piece of cake."
My father's tone turned serious as he continued to talk while we trailed behind him and Aunt Bern towards the breakfast room where the luscious cake was waiting.
"Frankly," he said, “I wish our Presbyterian brethren would give up that doctrine. To me, it simply allows the comfortable, the well-off folks to forget poor people. The rich somehow think God favors them and they deserve good fortune. I just don't believe it's all predetermined. However,” he said with a smile, "I do believe I am destined to have a piece of your caramel cake in the company of these lovely young ladies.”
With that, the four girls giggled and sat down to enjoy the cake.
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow," my father intoned as he tasted the first bite of cake.
“Amen,” was the happy response from my Methodist-influenced sister and me.
As Aunt Bern walked with quick, purposeful steps past my father, I heard him say, "Next week, Bernice, I'd like to hear you explain predestination."
“Malcolm, you are the limit! You know as much about predestination as Ido. Come on and have a piece of cake."
My father's tone turned serious as he continued to talk while we trailed behind him and Aunt Bern towards the breakfast room where the luscious cake was waiting.
"Frankly," he said, “I wish our Presbyterian brethren would give up that doctrine. To me, it simply allows the comfortable, the well-off folks to forget poor people. The rich somehow think God favors them and they deserve good fortune. I just don't believe it's all predetermined. However,” he said with a smile, "I do believe I am destined to have a piece of your caramel cake in the company of these lovely young ladies.”
With that, the four girls giggled and sat down to enjoy the cake.
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow," my father intoned as he tasted the first bite of cake.
“Amen,” was the happy response from my Methodist-influenced sister and me.
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