Coming Back

I've been away for awhile. I'll be coming back real soon!!! SoulSongWriter

Disciples General Assembly

I'm just returning from our church General Assembly - Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). I truly appreciated my local congregation sending us this year. I came home with a little more hope and a little more energy. I wrote about this last week in my congregational newsletter and someone suggested I share it on Facebook. I decided to write it here and link to it on Facebook. The events of this assembly restored hope to my soul. Something has troubled me for some time now. I came of age in the early 1970’s during the time of “school desegregation.” I wish I could say it was like the movie, “Remember the Titans” but that was not our experience on Oklahoma City’s near Southside. My high school experience was full of fighting and even rioting. By the time I was a senior we had Pinkerton Security personnel dressed in full riot gear patrolling our hallways. Fortunately, Coach Speegle took a liking to me and kept me on the golf team, even though I had absolutely no skills. It meant that every day I was able to leave the campus early before the troubles broke out in the afternoon. I held hopes and ideals that we would figure out this race problem in my lifetime. Well, over the past decade it has become evident that there is still much racial tension and inequality in our land. The language of hate has once again raised its ugly head. I really thought that we would have made more progress over these forty plus years. That‘s when it hit me during worship on Tuesday night of the General Assembly. There I was in Indianapolis, Indiana, listening to a sermon being preached by the pastor from one of our large churches, Lindenwood Christian Church in Memphis, Tennessee. I remember years ago, spending the night at that church with my youth group because it was raining hard and our camp ground was flooded. And now I was listening to the preacher, Rev. Virzola Law. Yes, she is a black woman, and her message touched my soul and moved me. And I also realized that just a few nights earlier, on Saturday night we had opened the Assembly with the election of Rev. Terri Hord Owens, a native of Terre Haute, IN, and a descendant of one of Indiana’s oldest African-American free settlements, as our next General Minister and President. A tear trickled down my cheek as it all soaked into my consciousness. Yes, there is much work to do in our culture and in our local communities, but at that moment I could celebrate the work and witness of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), my church. With a song in my heart, Soul Song Writer

Wow, I haven't written here since January of 2015? Mom was right once again. The older you become the faster time moves by. She said, "For instance, look at Christmas or Birthdays. When you are five it is only one of five holidays but when you are ninety, it is one of ninety holidays." Not that I'm ninety but still time is moving too quickly for me. Soul Song Writer

Early Morning Visitation

Several mornings over the past few months I have been awakened by sounds just before my alarm goes off. I’ve looked to see if my wife just went into the bedroom bath or see if someone is rummaging through my roll-top desk or was there a critter in my wall or attic? Nope. Nothing going on there. It was really frustrating those few days when I was on holiday between Christmas and New Years when I wanted to sleep in. Finally, the other day, the mystery was solved. After showering I heard it while toweling dry. It wasn’t in the wall, or in the desk, it was at the bedroom window. I looked out to see a female Cardinal standing on the fence top and flying the four feet into the bedroom window. She did it about three times and then as if she knew I was watching, turned and hopped onto the branches on the neighbor’s side of the fence and out of sight. I’ve been told that when a Cardinal visits, it is a loved one stopping by. My mom always loved birds and especially Cardinals. She has been gone for over a year now. Next time, if it is warm enough, I just might go outside and see if it’s my mom and get to ask her, why can’t I sleep a few minutes longer? With a song in my heart, SoulSongWriter

Grief, Christmas, a Manger

It was a few days before Christmas and I was driving north on a deserted rural two lane highway. When I left the sun was shining, but as I drove northward the clouds darkened and the north wind began to blow. I would turn at the eight mile corner, eight miles north of a larger main highway and the road would be marked, cemetery. I found the corner, turned onto the gravel road and headed east. I arrived at the little country cemetery. I saw no tent, but a few cars were already around a fairly new metal shed. The shed had two roll up garage doors, one door opened and one door closed. The fresh grave could be seen forty paces or so away. Inside the shed chairs had been set up and arranged facing a sturdy old pulpit. In front of the pulpit was a small table and on it was placed the tiniest casket I had ever seen. A few electric heaters were placed at the side but the chill filled the little shed. Soon the grieving family would arrive and the coldness of grief would add to the chill. Twins had perished even as they were born, still and lifeless. “Briefly in our lives, but forever in our hearts” the memorial folder read. I felt a knot in my stomach as I turned away from the tiny casket. And then I thought of another country shed, more primitive with no electric heaters and the words of a song echoed in my head, “Away in a manger no crib for a bed, the little lord Jesus lay down his sweet head…” Surely the hope, grace, and love assured to us from Christmas would bear this family through this dark, dark hour. A few days earlier the dad in his grief had raged against God and the church. He would come to this service not out of his own faith, but out of love and respect for his wife’s faith. I was instructed to quote no scriptures and say no Christian prayer. The dad did give me a Native American prayer and it actually was quite well written. A nearby country preacher would also participate, he had ministered to the mom’s family since before she was born. I promised the dad and the mom that I would walk beside them in their grief. I had no answer for the depth of their pain and so I would offer none. I would pray for them silently and hope that by their sharing their pain with me and the rest of their large extended family that their grief would be diminished and they would know they are not alone. Two sheds 2000 years apart: One a shed of hope, the other a shed of grief. I’m sure I could not enter the shed of grief without knowing and singing the story of the shed of the manger. With a song in my heart, SoulSongWriter

Racism, Redskins, and Advent

Here we are, half way on our journey to Christmas 2014. Here we are in the midst of the Season of Peace, Joy, and Good Will to all. And yet, our daily news reflects anything but peace, joy, and good will. At the same time the ugly problem of racism and hate has raised its ugly head, again. The problem is about something more than racial profiling, or the predicament that police encounter somewhere on every shift. It is something more than black and white, or even red. In a minor footnote, the Oklahoma City School Board on Monday night voted that Capitol Hill High School change its mascot “redskins”. Note: All of my brothers are graduates of Capitol Hill and my wife (although I would never speak for her). I must confess I had not thought much about the meaning of “redskins” until I read “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” before visiting South Dakota last year. When I learned the historical roots of the word and the hate and atrocities that it represents, I found it heart breaking. To those who are CHHS graduates it has become a hot topic in social media the past few days. As one classmate wrote, “It should have been changed years ago.” But there are many other and more emotional words not reflecting that statement. How do we counter racism in the brokenness of our world? One fellow pastor wrote this, “We must accept that we all make mistakes. Once we can forgive each other’s mistakes, we have enough humility to live in harmony; the lion with the lamb; white, black, red and yellow together; rich and poor; one religion with another as well as contrasting philosophies. No one is superior, no one has the only truth, but all have gifts they can share. All have the potential to celebrate these gifts and learn from them.” ( A. Luiza M.) Then there is this from a professional football player who said, “…ultimately the problem is not a SKIN problem, it is a SIN problem. SIN is the reason we rebel against authority. SIN is the reason we are racist, prejudiced and lie to cover for our own…” Hmmm Benjamin Watson, New Orleans Saints player, you are sounding a lot like John the Baptist crying out in the wilderness. Before we can reach peace, joy, and good will, we might need some time on our knees for good old fashioned repentance. With a song in my heart, SoulSongWriter

ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, contributions, stewardship, church, fund raising

According to the ALS website today August 27, 94.3 million dollars has been contributed through the “ice bucket challenge.” This interests me because my grandkid has called me out to do the challenge, and who would ever want to let a grandkid down? Not me. Do I know about ALS? Yes, it has brought about a horrible demise to a good friend’s dad, ravaging the body and the mind as it progressed. Have I ever contributed to ALS causes? No, not until this challenge. And I tend to respond with contributions when personally asked, no one has ever asked me for this cause. At the same time my local church is struggling to meet it’s budget this year and actually for the last couple of years. Since I am the pastor naturally this concerns me. And I know from my reading that our church is not alone. We are all good folks. Our church members are involved in over thirty different causes around our community. Has the church been replaced on everyone’s list for causes that come up with unique challenges like the “ice bucket”? I’ve just started reading an interesting book, Not Your Parents Offering Plate, where J.Clif Christopher challenges most everything I have been taught about the offering and church. Also I have observed that many entrepreneurs and artists are fund raising for their projects on social media. I even contributed to one artist and received a free mp3 copy of their cd online when it was released. That was kinda cool. Perhaps that is something I should think about when I retire and turn my energy toward song writing and other hobbies. In the mean time I suppose I will keep trying to find ways to inspire folks to live for something greater than themselves and keep passing the plate at church on Sunday mornings. And I expect to get a really cold shower in a few hours. My plan is to hand out water to folks out exercising on the local trail system by my church, and then to take the ice bucket challenge with the ice used to cool the bottled water… With a song in my heart, SoulSongWriter