On the list of best non-fiction books for 2010 is a book by Isabel Wilkerson called The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration. It is a lively account of the experiences of more than six million African-Americans who migrated from the Southern states to the North in search of better jobs and living conditions. It tells the stories of three individuals who left Mississippi, Florida, and Louisiana between 1937 and 1953. It is fascinating to read these stories of exhausting cross-country trips across a very segregated countryside, and how the families ended up in crowded apartment houses and ghettos, having to confront incredible prejudices regarding these new urban workers.

While Pittsburgh was not one of the destinations for the book’s main characters, our city did appear in one chapter.

“Many companies didn’t hire colored workers–not because of an explicit Berlin Wall of exclusion written into law, as in the South, but because their white workers just wouldn’t stand for it. A glass plant in Pittsburgh tried to hire colored workers, but the white workers ran them out by cursing them and making conditions so unpleasant they were forced to quit. At a steel mill there, the white bargemen threatened to walk out when black workers were introduced among them. Millworkers were only appeased by the provision of separate quarters for the colored workers.” (p. 316, slightly edited)

These experiences in Pittsburgh were typical of Northern cities receiving migrants from Southern states. Yet an additional value in studying this historical narrative is to consider how migration and “uprootedness” is so central to the Christian story. No matter where you turn in the bible, you run into stories of people on the move, trying to “sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land” (Ps. 137). Stories like Adam and Eve living “east of Eden,” Abram and Sarai moving toward Palestine, Moses and the Hebrew people seeking the Promised Land, Ruth following Naomi from Moab to Bethlehem, Jesus and his disciples walking the back roads of Galilee, or Paul spreading the gospel on his various missionary journeys.

In our own lives, think how often people move today and recall for yourself what it feels like to settle into a new community. Remember that one criteria of faith and righteousness involves how well we welcome the stranger in our midst. The migration experiences of previous generations continue today for many, many people in our own city. How well are we as individuals and as a congregation welcoming the sojourner and traveler?

One of the phrases we are considering as part of our church’s Strategic Vision process is “radical hospitality.” Give some thought to how that phrase can come alive for you in your daily walk of faith. As followers of Christ called to forgive as we’ve been forgiven and to love as we’ve been loved, we are also to welcome as we’ve all been welcomed. Perhaps by doing the latter work first, the other two categories will be easier to accomplish as well.

With the start of a new year comes a wonderful opportunity. The month of January means that a new period in each of our lives has begun. It is true that each of us carry over many things from day to day and week to week, so that our daily routines easily become unending cycles of repetition. But a new year can signify a dramatic break in that cycle.

As you prepare to “turn the calendar,” consider this interesting fact. A recent book about technology and modern culture suggested that colonial American households typically contained fewer than 100 objects. The author (Kevin Kelly) did not list those items, but I can well imagine that the furniture, utensils and accessories for daily life 200 years ago were much simpler than in contemporary homes. As a mental exercise, take out a sheet of paper and jot down the possible items you imagine were present back in those colonial homes. Then look around your own kitchen, family room, bathroom and bedroom. It would be safe to say that our lives involve thousands of objects unknown to our colonial ancestors. In case you think that last sentence is an over-statement, remember that the typical supermarket today sells more than 48,000 different items.

If there are hundreds or thousands of objects in a typical room around you, the obvious question is “Do I need all this?” If those objects could talk, they would likely reply, “Of course, you do!” Worried that some drastic house-cleaning is about to unfold, the frying pans, breadmakers, and toaster ovens would describe how they make your life better and your meals more convenient. The answering machines, cellphones, and computers would insist that they are necessary to stay connected in this electronic day and age. The racks of clothes, piles of shoes, stacks of books, albums, CDs and magazines would let you know that they bring you happiness and help keep you in style.

It is hard to argue with such persuasive household items. But before you invite them into the conversation, re-imagine the colonial house. Then, fill a good-sized box with items that you are reasonably sure you can live without. You don’t have to give it away yet; just mark it “January 2011” and find a place to store it. If you go six months or a year and never need any item from your box, there’s a good chance that you can donate everything and then re-fill the box in January 2012.

A simple exercise like the one I’ve suggested works on two levels. It causes you to look around with fresh eyes and consciously seek to simplify your life. It also causes you to re-think what is important in your daily life. Without self-examination, the “new year” will simply be an “old year” with a new date attached to it. Any time we ask about what is important, we are asking faith questions. And God loves to chime into those conversations. So take some time in early January to look around, to re-think what you truly need in your life, and to listen to the house-cleaning, soul-cleaning advice God lovingly offers.