Gone with the Wind

This is probably my last blog as a member of the West End UMC staff here in Nashville, Tennessee.  I will not lie.  I am in denial, and may even be through Sunday, when I preach my last sermon there.  Take a deep breath for your pastor, okay?

But for today, I will cling to Scarlett’s enduring quote from “Gone With The Wind,”  I’ll think about that tomorrow.

So with this in mind, I want to share with you what I believe are the 17 reasons hymn lyrics should never be projected in the West End Sanctuary, particularly without a proofreader.  These are bloopers from church worship teams, and in some cases, may be caused by that demon of technology, auto-spell-checker:

1. “Lord, You are more precious than silver… Lord, You are more costly than golf.”

2. Easter. The line was supposed to read “We were naked and poor” but instead it read “We were naked and poop.” Quite possibly the best typo of all time. I could not stop laughing for the rest of the song. It was epic.

3. ‘Defender of the week’ like Jesus is getting an award for being great at sports.

4. When we lived in Latin America: the line in the song was supposed to be “levantando manos santas” (lifting holy hands) but they wrote “monos” (monkeys) instead of “manos” and put that on the screen. Lifting holy monkeys. Um hmm. People standing around us thought the shekinah glory had come over us.

5. “Our God is greeter, our God is stronger.” I like that image. God greeting us as we walk into church. He’s like the little old lady who shakes our hands, only…He is God and God gives high fives! I assumed they left out the “a” and forgot to embrace the contraction, so I sing: “Our God’s a greeter.”

6. I made the power points for our college’s ministry and had a slide that, instead of saying “Jesus my closest friend,”  said “Jesus my closet friend.”  Don’t know how many people’s experience I ruined.

7. I create the lyric sheets for our small fellowship, and one Sunday the “strumpets” were calling during Days of Elijah. Oops.

8. The slide said “four our sins He died.” Someone behind me asked if we’re on our own for the fifth sin.

9. The best one I have seen was: “Amazon love, how can it be?”

10. I’m personally a fan of “Angles We Have Heard on High” at Christmastime. I always assume they are right angles.

11. I once attended a performance of Handel’s “Messiah” where the phrase “surely He has borne our griefs” was printed as “surely He has borne our briefs” in the programs given to the audience. I laughed for a while.

12. My favorite? It was in the song “The Great I Am.” “Holy, Holy, Guacamole…”

13. My favorite is not a song lyric–it’s a typo in the Lord’s Prayer: “forgive us our debits as we forgive our debitors…” Not exactly the same meaning.

14. Our church is multilingual, and at Christmas time, we translated "where ox and ass are feeding" into Spanish for our Spanish-speaking attendees. Turns out, we used the wrong Spanish word, so our Spanish-speaking friends had lyrics that basically read, "Where ox and a**hole are feeding." No bueno

15. From Amazing Grace: “ I once was blond, but now I see….”  Good thing Jesus heals the blond!

16.  “Oh that with yonder sacred thong…”  Enough said.

And finally,

17.  From Silent Night:  “Radiant beans from thy holy face…”

 

I hope you got a chuckle from those.  And I guess I can share these more heartfelt lyrics with you.  Rest assured I’ve proofread them (please, dear Lord, don't let there be any mistakes!), and changed them to gender/moment appropriate, with apologies to Michael W. Smith!

Packing up the dreams God planted
In the fertile soil of you
I can't believe the hopes God's granted
Means a chapter of my life is through.

But I'll keep you close as always
It won't even seem you've gone
'Cause my heart in big and small ways
Will keep the love that keeps us strong.

And friends are friends forever
If the Lord's the Lord of them
And a friend will not say never
'Cause the welcome will not end.
Though it's hard to let you go
In the Father's hands we know
That a lifetime's not too long
To live as friends.

And with the faith and love God's given
Springing from the hope we know
We will pray the joy we live in
Is the strength that now we show.

I'll keep you close as always
It won't even seem you've gone
'Cause my heart in big and small ways
Will keep the love that keeps us strong.

And friends are friends forever
If the Lord's the Lord of them
And a friend will not say never
'Cause the welcome will not end
Though it's hard to let you go
In the Father's hands we know
That a lifetime's not too long
To live as friends.

Grace and joy, now and forever my West End Friends,
Julie

Loving and Giving Unconditionally

There's a book that used to be on my personal library shelf, now packed away in one of a multitude of boxes, entitled "Troublesome Bible Passages," co-authored by former West End pastor Rev. Dr. David Lowes Watson.  It's a great book, but I think of it when "troublesome Christian practice" crosses my desk.  Today's was in the form of a phone call, not altogether uncommon.

"Tisha" had a dire emergency.  Her electricity was going to be cut off at 1 pm today.  She lives outside of the Nashville Electric System services.  Her electricity payment plan was rather complicated, and she spent a good amount of time explaining it to me.  Her son mows lawns for a living, but wouldn't be paid until Monday.  None of the churches in her city had funds, or weren't answering their telephones.  She had called relatives for a short term loan, and they couldn't assist.  Could West End help?

Given that there was a two-hour window, there wasn't much I could do for her even if I wrote out a personal check.  I looked up the local United Methodist Church in her city, shared the contact information with her, and assured her that the staff should be big enough to answer the telephone, and perhaps might be able to help.  I offered her a bit of hope and compassion, and treated her as if what she shared with me were true (but I suspect not all of it was on the up and up.) 

Nonetheless, I felt for her.  If it weren't that she was so many miles away, and given a little more than 120 minutes, I would have offered her much more, perhaps even calling a contact over at NES.  I figure money management is only the tip of the iceberg in this particular family system. A good frank discussion about her family life, job situation, etc. would be in order, connecting her with resources beyond a quick bailout.  I finally reconciled the situation in my mind to realize that if her electricity were cut off, there were worse situations in which she could find herself.  There are ways to survive for four days without power, even in the summer heat. 

I hope you'll pray with me for the Tisha's in this world, that a Christian with a servant's heart will be able to assist her with Living Power, which in turn will help solve her electrical power issue.  It's all far more complicated than simply handing out a bit of cash.  This loving and giving unconditionally stuff can take many forms, can't it!

Grace and joy,
Julie  

Eternal Communion

Last Sunday was my last Sunday to administer the sacraments at West End.  I love the liturgy, so rich with history and meaning.  I love the elements—yes, the official Welch’s Grape Juice, and if the Family Stamps home baked bread isn’t available, then I can settle for Great Harvest’s or even a King’s Hawaiian loaf.

I love the breaking of the bread and the lifting of the cup.  I think about Christ’s sacrifice—the body broken, and the blood spilt.  I relish the reconciliation, the re-membering of the members of the body of Christ.  I ponder the crushed grains and grapes taken for us to share, given for us to share.

Best of all, I love the connection.  I cherish looking into your eyes and calling you Beloved, if not your first name.  I try to let my hand linger just for a moment on yours, just in case you need a human touch.  And then—to watch the gently nibbling, or the quick gobble as the bread is consumed; and the tiny sips or the full knocking back the little shot glass brimming with the juice.

I’m feeling all the ‘last’ moments with you in these final days at West End, but the best news of all is that we have indeed eaten together.  If you remember that sermon from five years ago—one I will share during my first Sunday at Christ Church in Charleston as well—we have eaten together, and that makes us family.  We are the communion of saints—past, present and future.  I will re-member you every time I eat or drink at the Lord’s table.

Grace and joy,

Julie