Finally Some Good News: The challenge of being your brother&rsquo;s keeper.
BY DR. MARK ROSS 
Columnist

If my family ever shared a party line phone, I do not remember it. What I do remember is a big black rotary phone that hung on the wall. Every phone was rotary then. No, it did not have a crank on the side. Still, we never had a party line.
I would like to think that is because I am so young. My children would disagree. &ldquo;Older than dirt&rdquo; is one of their terms of endearment for me. However, having a party line seemed to have more to do with where you lived, rather than when you lived.
Prior to World War II, party lines were the rule in rural America. Any number of homes would share the same phone line with other homes in the community.
The technology created a number of challenges. Long distance calls always involved an operator, so the right home could be charged. You could not make a call if someone else was on the line. There were a lot of pickups and hang-ups. One had to be patient.
Arguably, the greatest inconvenience was the lack of privacy. The neighbors could listen in on your conversation. 
I am certain this quirk was a source of great frustration. I am just as sure it was a source of great entertainment. If television or radio was available, channels were limited. When there was nothing else to do, one could always pick up and listen on the party line.
I never shared a party line until a few weeks ago. Smyth County had just experienced a rainstorm. There was some flooding, but mainly everything was just wet. The electricity flickered but remained working. Phone service in my neighborhood did not fare so well.
Phones never went completely out. Apparently, the wires were just wet and crossed. Our phone would ring but we could not answer. We could call out but no one ever picked up.
Some of our other neighbors had a different challenge. When they tried to make a call, there were voices on the line. One neighbor recognized another, &ldquo;Mary is that you?&rdquo;
&ldquo;Yes, but who is this?&rdquo;
&ldquo;It&rsquo;s your neighbor Fran down the street.&rdquo;
&ldquo;Well, how did you get in on my call?&rdquo;
Conversations like that happened for several days. First, it was odd. Then, it became funny. Finally, as one neighbor put it, &ldquo;It was sort of nice.&rdquo; People who had not spoken in years caught up with each other. Folks who normally just waved had a conversation. Admittedly, it was a strange, three people talking at once, but it worked.
One of the most haunting questions in the Bible is God&rsquo;s rhetorical question to Cain. &ldquo;Where is your brother?&rdquo; Cain answers with a question, &ldquo;Am I my brother&rsquo;s keeper?&rdquo; His lame defense fell apart. Not only was Cain his brother&rsquo;s keeper. So are we.
Privacy is overvalued. Still, private lines rather than party lines and stoops rather than porches give us that privacy. It comes at a high price. Not only do we not keep our brother, many of us do not know our neighbors.
Some say about Smyth County, &ldquo;If you do not know what you are doing, just ask your neighbor.&rdquo; We can go too far being our brother&rsquo;s keeper. Yet, the alternative is worse.
I have to confess that I missed out on the neighborhood&rsquo;s temporary party line. My phone lines were either too dry or too wet. Although, I picked the phone up a couple of dozen times, all I was able to eavesdrop on was static.&amp;nbsp; 
Everyone was glad when the lines finally dried out. I think people appreciate their privacy, but I also think some of them kind of miss the party.

Dr. Mark Ross is the pastor of Marion Baptist Church. To learn more about MBC, visit http://www.marionbaptistchurchva.com/.