By Pastor Mike McVey
If you ever find yourself traveling down the meandering road of FM 105 in Southeast Kansas, you will be stunned by the beauty. The road winds and turns around tree-covered hills and lush green valleys. You will pass by tractors and combines plowing and harvesting the seasonal crop, you will see cattle grazing lazily in the fields. You will drive over the Toronto dam looking out upon a reservoir of still water, surrounded by rock cliffs and stone beaches. Eventually, the road will merge into a small country lane that ends at a lone cemetery overlooking the lake. Its gravestones and landscaped lawn stand out amongst the trees and brush surrounding it. If you choose to exit your vehicle and take a walk amongst the headstones, you will be immersed in generations of history and the triumphs and struggles of Kansas pioneers. As you pass through the rod iron gate you will read these words…
Carlisle Cemetery
EST. 1870
You will most likely catch the constant subtle breeze that blows in that part of the country. It brings a refreshment in the summer, a bite in the winter, and comfort in the Spring and Fall. As you walk along the rows of generational memory one of the taller graves may attract your attention. Its tower shape and pointed top allude to a person of notoriety, and yet it is still modestly small and fits well into this humble cemetery. The name of the grave reads, “Thomas Carlisle, 1832 – 1898.” Around the stone lists the names of his wife Lucinda, and the names of two children who never made it into adulthood (Mariah & Charles). Other graves surround Thomas’s with the names of children and grandchildren who survived. Like the grave of his daughter Mary, who would marry a local farm hand named James. Thomas would gift the newly minted couple some acres of farmland on the Verdigris River to build a life for themselves. There is the grave of his grandson Robert, who, along with other boys from the area, shipped out with the 314th Combat Engineers to fight in the trenches of World War I. Generations of family and legacies are memorialized in marble and stone. And yet all you can see is names and dates, but what is not seen with our eyes is what is truly important.
You won’t see Thomas’s cabin, which he built in 1858 when this part of the country was still wilderness. You wouldn’t know how Tom had to fight to keep his land when the country was torn into Civil War. You can’t see how Tom threw his lot behind the Union and Freesoilers of Kansas and enlisted in the Kansas 16th Militia Regiment, how he defended his home against bushwhackers like William Quantrill and Bloody Bill Anderson. We wouldn’t be able to watch as the ground was plowed and crops were planted, how communities sprang up, railroads ran through, and generations were born. We can’t see the small Brethren Church being built next to the small family graveyard to serve the farmers in the area, and it being named Carlisle Chapel in honor of the family who donated the ground. We cannot hear the laughter of children, the wisdom of elders, or the voices from the past.
All these things remain hidden amidst the progress of time and the passing of years. The Chapel has long since been torn down and now the cemetery only marks its place. Tom’s Cabin has faded into the elements and its location is no longer known, though there remains a well he dug by hand up in the hills. The plowed earth was acquired by the Army Corps of Engineers to build a large reservoir that covers the once-family land with acres of water. Now families spend their summers skiing on the smooth waters and fishermen try to bag Bass and Channel Cat from the depths of Lake Toronto. The only relic of this once-active community that remains is the rusted train tracks that appear when the water level drops in the dry months.
It may seem like these people’s lives and legacies have all but disappeared. Their memories were forgotten and faded with the past. It can make a person feel as though all their endeavors in life will only be summarized on a tombstone. But that’s not the full story either, because the legacy we leave is not one of stone, or even brick and mortar, it is a legacy of love.
Every family can trace its roots back to some forgotten graveyard across this world, but the roots of that family do not wither in the grave, but spring to life in the future generations who carry on the stories and the traditions. The lives that we live today were only possible because of the triumphs and failures of the past. Furthermore, our future is assured Victory through the triumph over the grave by our Lord Jesus Christ. Christ’s legacy of love and grace did not end at the grave but began at the resurrection. It is continued to this day by the church and its followers. The message of Jesus Christ lives within every one of us, a message of hope, strength, correction, and assurance. This legacy will never fade no matter how deep it might be buried. No bulldozer, tractor, government program, or any force of man can wipe away its legacy, because it dwells with creation itself.
The Psalmist writes, “We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.” The glorious deeds of the Lord are indeed our treasure to share, our inheritance to pass down, and our timeless legacy to leave. You see, dear friends, a graveyard can be deceiving, it can seem like a sad and solemn place. But instead, it marks a place where generations now rest and their legacies live on in countless unknown lives. In the same way, the Gospel of Jesus continues to live on in each of us, just waiting to be shared with others. Let us not retain this inheritance for ourselves, but share the legacy!
Oh, and don’t worry. Carlisle Cemetery hasn’t been forgotten, in fact, it is very much cared for by loving hands. Just four miles down the road lies a farmhouse on the same land that was given to Tom’s daughter Mary and Son-in-law James as a wedding present. It’s still run and operated by the same family, who lovingly care for the Carlisle cemetery each month. Brad and Emily operate the farm now, more than 1,000 acres, a far cry from the original 60. Before them were Brad’s grandparents Jim & Gyla, then his great-grandparents Clyde & Edna, ending (or beginning) with his great-great grandparents James & Mary. They are the 5th generation to care for this ground, and a new generation is being born as well. The story never ends with the grave, it lives on in the legacy left behind. For all of us, that legacy can be found through Christ Jesus.
Oh, I forgot to mention the surnames of James, Mary, Brad, and Emily. It’s McVey.
Blessings!
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Pastor Mike McVey
Minister – First Methodist Church, Fairfield TX
ACS Chaplain – United State Coast Guard, Station Galveston TX
