Melting Walls

Melting Walls

Peter Cooper has written a beautiful tribute to bluegrass icon Earl Scruggs in the Thursday morning edition of The Tennessean.  In it, he quotes Marty Stuart as describing Earl as ”a man who melted walls, and he did it without saying three words.” 

Here’s a fellow who had an unprecedented talent with the banjo and played for 84 years of his 88.  While his fingers smoked on those strings, that’s not what melted the walls.  According to the reporter, Earl had a knack for simply going and playing his fabulous banjo—with lots of different artists of many genres.  He’d just go and play.  Long haired, short haired, similar and very different, popular or highly controversial, he’d just go and play.  The banjo!  With the likes of Joan Baez and Elton John, for instance.  I realized how much I may tend to place people in a box, simply because it sounds so refreshingly uncommon.  He’d just show up and play, with no agenda but doing what he was meant to do, the best he could, and as open-minded as he could be.  He shared without being judgmental, and it made a difference.  Even though he was criticized and condemned by some of his peers for crossing “boundaries.”

I have no idea what Earl’s religious persuasion was.  I’m sure I could google it, but it doesn’t really matter.  Sounds to me like he lived out Ephesians 2:10.  “For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.  Earl used his talent, persevered, and melted walls of difference.  How cool is that?  What a loving, accepting testimony.

Rest in peace, Earl.  We thank God for God’s gift to us, through your music and your witness.  May we all be wall-melters.

Grace and joy,

Julie

So What?

I imagine that we’ve all asked that question sometime during our lives, either out loud or in the innermost recesses of our hearts. 

So what?

You can fill in the blanks.  I tried writing some out for you, but they tended to sound pretty judgmental, and reflected my own critical thinking.  I don’t need to impose that onto you!  I’ll bet (if I were a betting woman) you’re your own best critic, too.

The basis of “so what” thinking is asking the basic question, “What’s the purpose and meaning?”  By the time I arrive at asking “so what,” I’m typically at a point where I’m questioning “what’s the use?”  Oh dear.

I love the season of Lent because it is a “set apart” time to be reflective.  To be reflective, means to be aware, or working on being aware.  If there’s one quality that is up on a Top Ten List, I hope Awareness is way up there after Lovingkindness.  Maybe even second.  Awareness might just keep us intentional, and diminish the “so what” question from rearing its head as often.

An unaware life, Anthony De Mello writes, is a mechanical life, not human.  In the current movie “Hugo,” it might correlate to an automaton.  How easy it is to slip into programmed and conditional living!  We can argue that for far too many people on the planet, life is a matter of survival, and that reflective time is a luxury, but frankly, some of the wisest, happiest people I know are in survival mode but have resolved the “so WHAT” question with “so THAT.”

Why am I doing ________________?  So that I can feed my children.  So that I can be a contributing member of my community.  So that I can share some of my life experiences.  So that I can show gratitude for the many blessings I have been given.  So that I can reflect Christ’s love and grace to others.  So that?  You can fill in the blanks.  By becoming aware.

“So that” living is the heart of what we are about as Christians.  I hope you’ll take time to consider the “so that” aspects of your 24 hours.  Sometimes, it can be a lifesaver.  Promise!

Grace and joy,

Julie

Happy St. Paddy's Day!

I love wearing green on March 17th, even though my Scottish ancestors certainly are fuming in their graves.  I have some Irish ancestors too, however which makes for quite a blessed blend of characteristics in my DNA. 

There's a shadow side of everyone and in everyone's background, so we pray for discernment to hold onto the good, prune the not-so-good and learn lessons from that, and accept the reality of both.  I'll not be goin' all serious on ya today (said with my best Irish brogue), bein' that a wink and a grin is always a good thing.

Do you know what's green and sits in your backyard?
Paddy O'Furniture

Have you seen the cartoon of St. Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland, in his Chevy?

'I had an accident opening a can of alphabet soup this morning,' said Murphy.
'Were you injured?' inquired Seamus.
'No, but it could have spelled disaster,' concluded Murphy.

How do you save a pastor who tells too many jokes from drowning?
You don't know? Good.

So here's a blessing for you:

May God grant you many years to live,
For sure God must be knowing
The earth has angels all too few
And Heaven is overflowing.

Go mbeannai Dia duit
(May God Bless You)

Grace and joy,
Julie

From a Glass, Darkly

This has been quite a week.  Two grandbabies born to our members, with whom we rejoice, but a shadow side has been the unusual number of deaths we’ve experienced as a community this past week.

Mary Louise Clift Brown died Saturday, March 3^rd.  Private services were held at the Middle Tennessee Veterans Cemetery on Wednesday, March 7^th.  Among her survivors is her husband Thomas A. Brown.

Beth and Dudley Warner are mourning the death of Beth’s mother, Ruth Edna Hokinson Green, who died Sunday, March 4^th.  Services were held at West End on Wednesday, March 7^th.  She is survived also by West End member Elizabeth Shayler (granddaughter).

Bess Frances Hunt Bennett died Tuesday, March 6^th.  Services will be held at West End on Friday, March 9^th. 

James Hicks, father of Karen and Pamela Hicks, died Wednesday evening, March 7^th.  Services will be held in Huntsville, Alabama on Saturday morning.

And on top of that, it’s gray and raining outside.

Days like these call us to cling to our Good News:  That the worst thing that happens to us is never the last thing to happen to us, by God’s grace. 

None of us can fully comprehend the mystery of death and resurrection, but it helps me to think of this inspired parable.

Once upon a time, twins were conceived in the same womb.  Weeks passed, and the twins developed.  As their awareness grew, they laughed for joy:  “Isn’t it great to be alive?”

Together the twins explored their world.  When they found their mother’s cord that gave them life, they sang for joy.  “How great is our mother’s love, that she shares her own life with us!”

As weeks stretched into months, the twins noticed how much each was changing.  “What does that mean?” asked one.

“It means our stay in this world is drawing to an end,” said the other.

“But I don’t want to go,” said the one.

“But maybe there is life after birth!” said the other.

“But how could that be?” responded the other one.  “We’d have to shed our life cord, and how is life possible without it?  Besides, we have seen evidence that others were here before us, and none of them have returned to tell us that there is life after birth.  No, this is the end!”

And so the one twin fell into deep despair, saying “If conception ends in birth, what is the purpose of life in the womb? It’s meaningless.  Maybe there’s no mother at all!”

“But there has to be,” protested the other.  “How else did we get here? How do we remain alive?”

“Have you ever seen our mother?” said the one.  “Maybe she lives only in our minds; maybe we made her up because the idea makes us feel good.”

And so the last days in the womb were filled with great questioning and fear. 

Finally, the moment of birth arrived.  When the twins passed from their world, they opened their eyes.  And they cried, for what they saw exceeded their fondest dreams.

For now we see as through a glass, darkly….  At least that’s the view from my desk today.

Grace and resurrection joy,

Julie

Dropping the Guilt Baggage

Last night our Final Words From the Cross discussion group was lively as we talked about Lent, the reason for self-examination, and forgiveness.  Many of us start squirming at the thought of sin and confession—mostly from a sense of denial, I reckon, unless it’s looking at others and recognizing their sins.  It’s easy to justify our own mistakes, slip-ups and judgmentalism, being that we know our intentions, or so we tell ourselves.  If we’re fully honest, however, we admit that instead of putting God and love at the center of our lives, we place ourselves and our selfishness smack dab in the center of our personal universe, much to the detriment of healthy relationships that separate ourselves from God and one another.  Note the word “sin” and that “I” in the middle, or as one participant last night pointed out, “Ego stands for Edging God Out.”

If that weren’t bad enough, if we recognize that trait, we often jump to the conclusion that we are guilty, guilty, guilty.  Which equals bad, bad, bad.  God may forgive us, but we have trouble forgiving ourselves for our grievances.  Such thinking is often promoted by power-sources who want to maintain control through fear.  I’ll let you figure out those sources, but the media is chocked full of that message from all directions, reinforcing what our distorted egos are already telling us.  Are we really arrogant enough to deny God’s forgiveness by placing our own judgment above that of our Creator? 

Adam Hamilton drives home the point in this Lenten study that God’s forgiveness, as lifted up before the whole world from Jesus’ lips praying forgiveness for us from the cross, is blatant.  What more could God do?  In the midst of the torture and anquish, betrayal and denial, Jesus is praying for our forgiveness.  We hadn’t even said we were sorry, and God is forgiving us.  It may be time to accept that forgiveness and get on with things.

I’ve shared before that even more than John 3:16, is the verse that follows, for me.  “For God came into the world not to condemn the world, but to save it.”  Not to make us wallow around in guilt, but to accept us and encourage us to turn in God’s direction rather than our own.  Turn to love, and abandon fear.  Abandon, in other words, that baggage of guilt.  Use it as a symptom pointing to something that needs to be corrected or healed, and move on.  

It’s a beautiful thing, our need for forgiveness and God’s willingness to give it.  Open those windows and let that fresh air into your soul.  That’s what I’m doing today, and I hope every day.

That’s the view from my desk this beautiful afternoon.  See you Sunday, and even Wednesday evening to enter further discussion!

Grace and joy,

Julie

Fire Drills

It was fire drill time a few minutes ago at the church.  On floors Two through Four, the lights flashing and loud sirens were just a minor inconvenience.  All of us on staff, however, have an important responsibility to keeping our day and play schoolers safe, so we each go to our assigned places to help the children up the steps, out the doors and into the playground or lawn areas, keeping them contained and calm.  In the two-year-old classroom to which I am assigned, there was deep wailing for being taken out of their comfort zone, which is highly understandable.  What surprised me was that some of the children started crying as we came back into the building! 

I chuckled as I climbed the flights back up to the third floor.  Change is hard, whether it’s for our own good or not!  And there are times when I simply don’t roll with the punches, but have to have a good cry to release the stress.  There are other times when I reach out for help in my unsettledness.  Another set of eyes can often help me see past the fears. 

The best help I’ve found, however, is to be still (in my body or mind), and surrender myself to God.  When I breathe deeply, God breaks through to remind me that in this moment, it’s okay.  If it seems NOT okay, God works through others to help carry me through, but more often than not, helps me realize that while it may not seem okay to me, in the bigger picture, it IS going to be okay.  If I calm down, I can remember that God has worked out and through my past fears.  And since the best predictor of the future is past behaviors, and because God is love and not fear, remembrance of history (my own and the world’s) provides comfort for the future.  Stories of fear are always conquered by good. 

So my unsolicited advice today is, as best you can, be still even if it takes a bit of a cry to get there, and know God.  Know love.  Trust God.  Trust pure love.  It WILL be okay.  After all, it may just be a drill, and not the real thing.

Grace and joy,

Julie

Promises, Promises

Let your soul be at rest.  God will not fail you if you keep your promises and abandon yourself to God’s will.

Those words belong to St. Teresa of Avila.  I want them to be my words too.  There are days when worries and anxieties seem to take possession of me.  I can’t focus on anything else, no matter how hard I try. 

“Stay in the now!” I yell at myself.  “What do you, Julie, have to worry about?  Look at people around you, with tough rows to hoe, some in life or death situations.  How silly you are!”  Except the exclamation point doesn’t come with a smile.  I frown at myself in the mirror, and if you’ve ever seen me frown, well, I can be intimidating, let me tell you, especially when the brow furrows, too.  It’s the “mother’s glare” shot to myself.

Yep.  I know all the pat answers. 

You can look at the past, but don’t stare.

Don’t dwell in the past, instead get the hell out of there.

Almost all the things you worry about never happen.

Worrying is projecting fear into the future, and it isn’t real.

There’s always a place for self-examination.  But I’m learning that yelling at someone, even myself, doesn’t make nearly the dent in learning as compassion and kindness.  Here I am, getting closer to 60 than I could have ever imagined, and practicing putting an arm around myself to say, “Okay.  Deep breath.  Excellent.  Is this life or death?  Can we get through just this moment?  We are very resourceful, and if I can’t figure this out on my own, I can ask for help.”

The best is that we AREN’T in this alone.  We are a community who loves and accepts one another, just as we are, encouraging one another and sharing joys as well as heartaches.  We promise that to God and to each other in our membership vows.

But best of all, we are here to remind each other that God, Godself, will not leave as alone.  God is always here, dark days and bright days.  God’s will is love, not fear. 

L-O-V-E.  That’s God’s promise to us, and God NEVER breaks God’s promises.  That’s a fact.  And a beautiful covenant relationship, all around.  Promise!

Grace and joy,

Julie