The old photograph bears a simple label: “Scene at Waukon.” So it’s unlikely that the photographer specifically intended to capture First Presbyterian Church. Nevertheless he (or she) froze a long-ago moment in time here in our neighborhood. The date was November 9, 1913.
Earlier that year, Woodrow Wilson – a lifelong Presbyterian – was inaugurated as the 28th president of the United States. Newly enacted amendments to the U.S. Constitution authorized the government to start collecting income taxes and gave citizens the ability to elect U.S. senators directly. (Before then, state legislatures chose two senators to represent their states in Washington.) In his Detroit auto plant, Henry Ford was developing the modern assembly line, and the first ocean-going freighters were passing through the just-opened Panama Canal. Innovation was around every corner. What a great time to be alive!
But in Waukon, on that ninth of November back in ’13, a photographer recorded a scene that pales in comparison to the pace of a changing world. West Main Street seems pretty quiet. Not much action going on. Perhaps because the streets are mud and muck from edge to edge, turning an easy ride through downtown into a long, hard slog. Oh how good it is to make the same trip today on smooth asphalt!
In the 112 years since this photograph was made, other changes have come to our neighborhood too. Gone is that long row of utility poles, stretching as far as the eye can see alongside the south side of the street. Their wide arms hold multiple strands, undoubtedly a few of them telegraph wires carrying the electrical dots and dashes of urgent, Morse-coded communications: The premiere instant messaging service of its day!
Across the street, at the corner of West Main and what is now Third Street NW (it was Armstrong Street back in the day), sat a tidy little two-story home with an inviting front porch. Sometime since then, it was removed to make way for the telephone exchange building now owned by CenturyLink. A similar home across the street, ringed by tall trees, is gone too. It lasted until about 1930 before giving way to what is now the Presbyterian manse where Julie and I, and our children, have felt so blessed to live.
And do you notice that in 1913 our church lacked a fellowship hall? That addition didn’t come until the late 1950s. On the spot where we now enjoy coffee and breakfast treats every Sunday was once the holy ground of a home where three meals a day fed body, mind, and spirit. The original church, where here we gather, also has changed a bit. Entrances have been remodeled and moved. And to the ravages of time and the elements the steeple has lost the fanciness of its architecture.
So also does the sanctuary look a little different: A hulking pipe organ has been replaced; paint schemes have changed, and a slice of the overflow room now houses the church offices. Indeed the only thing constant is change – within and without. Yet God is constant!
Back in 1913, the First Presbyterians of Waukon, Iowa, gathered in this sanctuary on Sabbath days to hear the Reverend Robert Van Nice preach the Word of the Lord – from a much-smaller pulpit than mine. They came in their Sunday best to worship the God who is unchanging, to confess their sins and hear ageless words of assurance in the Good News of Jesus Christ. They came – over muddy streets by foot, horse, and wagon – because the Holy Spirit of God in Christ had drawn them together.
And, though decades and generations have passed, though pastors have come and gone, that same Spirit continues drawing us together for worship, fellowship, and service to friend, neighbor, and stranger. Though the landscape around us looks different, the love of God in Christ Jesus most definitely has not changed.
Father, Son, and Spirit! Ever present, changing never, here in this place!
Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer! Full of truth and grace, mercy and compassion – forever and ever!
The Holy Three in One! Eternally worthy of all praise and honor; the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow!
I share with you now Psalm 104. It is a long passage, but so also long is the list of God’s greatness and goodness.
Bless the LORD, O my soul. O LORD my God, you are very great. You are clothed with honor and majesty, wrapped in light as with a garment. You stretch out the heavens like a tent, you set the beams of your chambers on the waters, you make the clouds your chariot, you ride on the wings of the wind, you make the winds your messengers, fire and flame your ministers.
You set the earth on its foundations, so that it shall never be shaken. You cover it with the deep as with a garment; the waters stood above the mountains. At your rebuke they flee; at the sound of your thunder, they take to flight. They rose up to the mountains, ran down to the valleys to the place that you appointed for them. You set a boundary that they may not pass, so that they might not again cover the earth.
You make springs gush forth in the valleys; they flow between the hills, giving drink to every wild animal; the wild asses quench their thirst. By the streams the birds of the air have their habitation; they sing among the branches. From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work.
You cause the grass to grow for the cattle, and plants for people to use, to bring forth food from the earth, and wine to gladden the human heart, oil to make the face shine, and bread to strengthen the human heart. The trees of the LORD are watered abundantly. In them the birds build their nests; the stork has its home in the fir trees. The high mountains are for the wild goats; the rocks are a refuge for the rabbits.
You have made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows its time for setting. You make darkness, and it is night, when all the animals of the forest come creeping out. The young lions roar for their prey, seeking their food from God. When the sun rises, they withdraw and lie down in their dens. People go out to their work and to their labor until the evening.
O LORD, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. Yonder is the sea, great and wide, creeping things innumerable are there, living things both small and great. There go the ships, and serpents that you formed to sport in the sea. These all look to you to give them their food in due season; when you give to them, they gather it up; when you open your hand, they are filled with good things.
When you hide your face, they are dismayed; when you take away their breath, they die and return to their dust. When you send forth your spirit, they are created; and you renew the face of the ground. May the glory of the LORD endure forever; may the LORD rejoice in his works – who looks on the earth and it trembles, who touches the mountains and they smoke.
I will sing to the LORD as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being. May my meditation be pleasing to him, for I rejoice in the LORD. Let sinners be consumed from the earth, and let the wicked be no more.
Bless the LORD, O my soul. Praise the LORD!
In Waukon, on November 9, 1913, small eskers of snow line both sides of the muddy Main Street. Meltwater fills its ruts and potholes. The weather of early winter has arrived. In fact, November 9 was the day of The Great Lakes Storm of 1913, also known as the Big Blow, the Freshwater Fury, and the White Hurricane: A blizzard with hurricane-force winds that devastated the Upper Midwest and Great Lakes over the course of four days. The storm was at its most powerful on November 9, battering and overturning ships on four of the five Great Lakes.
The storm was the deadliest and most destructive natural disaster to hit the Great Lakes in recorded history. More than 250 people were killed. Shipping was hit hard: 19 ships destroyed, 19 others stranded. Lost was some $1 million of cargo, 68 tons of mostly coal, iron ore, and grain. The storm impacted cities from Duluth, to Chicago, to Cleveland, which received 22 inches of snow driven by winds approaching 80 mph. Many communities were paralyzed for days.
But in Waukon, on that ninth of November back in ’13 – as it turns out, a Sunday, a certain sense of familiar peace surrounds the neighborhood. The First Presbyterian Church and its neighbors seem to have weathered well the storm. So also shall it be when the next force of nature or will of God brings stormy change to the ever-fluid landscape.
The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message during worship on Sunday, June 7, 2026, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa, USA.