Thank you Mr. Keillor

What a wonderful summer. Hollywood Bowl was the sight of an amazing intimate exchange between Garrison Keillor and 18,000 audience participants. Arriving to witness the final Prairie Home Companion folks were ushered into a sacred sharing of laughter, mortality, genuine affection and earnest appreciation. For companions of the show, old timers and neophytes alike, the event was a sensuous evening of entertainment that caressed heartstrings and funny-bones.

At show's end, Mr. Keillor quietly led 18,000 folks in a moving sing along. My wife was deeply blessed by the absolute thrill of singing with her 87 year young mother. From Goodnight Irene, Happy Trails, the Doxology, Swing Low, Falling In Love, to Amen – the two enjoyed a fellowship unique to singing with someone you have loved a lifetime.

Janet was reminded of Mr. Keillor's words on Methodists. Written almost a decade ago, they still strike a chord. He wrote:

We make fun of Methodists for their blandness, their excessive calm, their fear of giving offense, their lack of speed, and also for their secret fondness for macaroni and cheese.

 But nobody sings like them. If you were to ask an audience in New York City, a relatively Methodist-less place, to sing along on the chorus of “Michael Row the Boat Ashore,” they will look daggers at you as if you had asked them to strip to their underwear. But if you do this among Methodists, they’d smile and row that boat ashore and up on the beach! And down the road!

 Many Methodists are bred from childhood to sing in four-part harmony, a talent that comes from sitting on the lap of someone singing alto or tenor or bass and hearing the harmonic intervals by putting your little head against that person’s rib cage.

 It’s natural for Methodists to sing in harmony. We are too modest to be soloists, too worldly to sing in unison. When you’re singing in the key of C and you slide into the A7th and D7th chords, all two hundred of you, it’s an emotionally fulfilling moment. By our joining in harmony, we somehow promise that we will not forsake each other.

I do believe this: People, these Methodists, who love to sing in four-part harmony are the sort of people you can call up when you’re in deep distress. 

Student Music Ministry at CUMC

I am excited, inspired, hope-filled.

The direction music ministry is taking CUMC is disciple making at its best. Encouraging young people to develop skills, strengthen talents, and discover ways they can impact the world is a remarkable culture. Achieving excellence and having fun, developing inspiring leadership and compassionate relationships, living out the gospel in ways that build up others are all key ingredients to a culture of encouragement.

Music ministry is more than a rehearsal or learning a “part.” The ministry creates and sustains an environment encouraging each young person to discover God’s unique gifts and call. We (the church) are a community encouraging young people to stretch their wings, explore possibilities, and strengthen positive leadership skills. We are a community which considers nurturing the confidence of young artists to be a high sacred calling. At the heart of our music ministry is a community of veteran musicians welcoming and standing along-side young artists. These veterans are themselves encouraged by those they affirm.  

Dr. Irene Messoloras is the Director of Music Ministry at Covina United Methodist Church. She uses the amazing talent with which God blessed her to encourage, inspire, and equip young people. Her exceptional leadership, heart for joyful artistic excellence, and compassionate commitment infects the music ministry.  

Covina has already been impacted by this exceptional ministry. Music in worship has touched hearts and stirred souls. Public presentations have offered joyful inspiration. People are finding a connection with God through music. 

I count as a blessing the joy of watching young people grow in skills, confidence, and passion. A culture of encouragement is the gospel giving life to everyone.

You are an important part of the community. You can share the culture of encouragement:

• A financial donation is always welcome.
• Spread the word about our exceptional music.
• Bring a friend to worship or a concert.
• Be blessed by the inspiration.
• Tap a musician on the shoulder and say, “Thank you for the music. I’m glad you are here.”

Star Wars Day

Star Wars Day is upon us. A twist on the catchphrase so central to the formation of Luke Skywalker, “May the Fourth, be with you.”

So I join the celebration by sharing a pun or two floating around the web.

Words from Yoda are a good place to start. (Let your ears hear that distinct Yoda Voice)

"Forgiven you,

Jesus Has"

This teen post reminds us that science and faith often come to the same conclusion. From //teenagerposts.tumblr.com:

"You're alive; you have mass; and you occupy space.

  Do you know what that means?

  YOU MATTER!"

Just past Star Wars Day is Mother’s Day. A great time to celebrate the gift of life!  

More Than A Caterpillar with Wings

The Butterfly has been a powerful symbol or metaphor for new life. It is an image used at Easter time to evoke beauty and freedom.   

Ferris Jabr, writing for Scientific America penned this description of metamorphosis at:

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/caterpillar-butterfly-metamorphosis-explainer/

Once inside the cocoon: …the caterpillar, releases enzymes to dissolve all of its tissues… But the contents of the pupa are not entirely an amorphous mess. Certain highly organized groups of cells known as imaginal discs survive the digestive process. Before hatching, when a caterpillar is still developing, it grows an imaginal disc for each of the adult body parts it will need as a mature butterfly or moth—discs for its eyes, for its wings, its legs and so on.

Once a caterpillar has disintegrated all of its tissues except for the imaginal discs, those discs use the protein-rich soup all around them to fuel the rapid cell division required to form the wings, antennae, legs, eyes, genitals and all the other features of an adult butterfly or moth. 

The transformation is total. A butterfly is not a caterpillar with wings.

Celebrating Resurrection Sunday is all about becoming a new creature in Christ. We celebrate that in each of us is are “spiritual imaginal discs,” formed by God, wakened by Christ, and given new life by the Holy Spirit. In Christ our being is transformed. We rise from the tomb of sin and death, not as old selves with wings added. We rise as new creatures.

Easter

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
ee cummings 1952

Cummings echoes Easter in his words.

here is the deepest secret everyone knows
roots feed on it and buds hold its promise
it is the wonder that spangles the sky and cradles the soul

Jesus whispers it from the cross
dances it across the garden
breathes it to his beloveds

i carry your heart(I carry it in my heart)

here is the deepest secret at the heart of life
it breaks the bonds of sin and death
it removes guilt as far as east is from west
now and forever more, the one from whom life comes
smiles and knows

i carry your heart(I carry it in my heart)

Good Friday

This is the night we
       Mourn.
                Our hearts lament.
                Our songs bewail in minor keys,
                      diminished by death.

This is the night
        minds are numbed
                 bodies tremble
                           and faces are buried in tear soaked palms

This is the night of utter loss;
       when the best is taken from us

This is the night
               Martin Luther King Jr was shot on the balcony
               Oscar Romero was gunned down at mass

This is the night of
          Auswitz, Dachau, Baden-Baden
                   And the millions of
                         Labor Camps
                         Execution Chambers
                         and Torture Rooms
                                littering the planet,
                                         strewn across history,
           fouling every human occupancy.

This is the night
       Darfur looks like our future
                and the millions who live in refugee camps
                become a permanent part of humanity.

This is the night
          we step onto the Trail of Tears

This is the night
          fear, corruption, avarice, and lust
                  blot out the sun, moon, and stars
                              and freeze our souls

This is the night
          innocent families are abandoned in the aftermath of tragedy

This is the night
          Truck-loads of people, seeking a better life, are found dead,
          forsaken by coyotes transporting them to the land of promise

This is the night
          passenger jets slam into twin towers

This is the night
          employers cut health care,
          miners contract black lung, and
          the children of Abraham blow each other up

This is the night
          babies eat lead tainted paint chips,
          school children are exposed to asbestos and
          pollution tips the planet to destruction

This is the night
          someone you love dies of cancer

This is the night
          Mary stood at the foot of a cross
                 watching
                      the life drain from the brutalized body of her first born child

This is the night
          the Hand Maiden of the Lord had to ask,
                “Why? O, Why? O, God, why?”

This is the night
          our very core aches with pain

On this night
          a void opens in our soul;
          a chasm rips us apart from everything we have known to be true;

On this night God dies

We come to this holy place
     this sacred space
        because this is the only container for our grief
        because this is the only space that can hold the enormity of our anguish
      because of this thing that has taken place.

There is a truth at the heart of this night.
      As uncomfortable as it is
            as much as we want to hurry past it
The truth is simply:
       only those who can sit with the pain of
              suffering
              sin
              broken hearts
              and crushed souls;

       only those
              who pause in the interval of eternity,
              when grief stops the world,
                      have the capacity
                      have the audacity
                              to let leak a hope that something is coming.

But for now:
           let us lock ourselves in an upper room
           let us weep and know the helpless hopeless loss
                    let Friday,
                           Holy Friday
                                  simply be the night,
Jesus died.

Palm Sunday

Using images of conquering power;

evoking for Jews and Romans alike

the, “vanquishing victor;”

This warrior,

          this ruler,

          this King:

rode

into Jerusalem on a humble colt.

Wore

homespun not polished armor

Spoke of

sin, redemption, forgiveness, and reconciliation

not,

national sovereignty, revenge, resentment, or retaliation.

Jubilant crowds lined the roads,

knowing they witnessed  a winner,

          completely  misunderstanding

          God’s vision of success.

And that is what makes this day, this week,

uncomfortable.

Zealots and true believers

did not understand:

     Jesus had come to conquer;

not just a back water province,

nor just a Roman empire.

His,

was not a cause,

nor a campaign.

Jesus had come,

to reclaim

all of creation.

They did not understand:

   Jesus came to the Holy City

not to deal death

nor to sidestep death

but to meet death head on.

He would conquer

the world and death itself

by dying.

In so doing,

he vanquished all that separates us.

By the cross,

there is no more Gentile nor Jew

no more ally nor opponent

no more liberal nor conservative

no more master nor slave

no more person that we like or don’t like

no longer is there someone who has wronged me

By dying to death

Jesus made a world

populated with neighbors

whom you and I are asked to help

whose hurts we are to bind

for whose welfare we are responsible

Such radical love calls us to forgive

and when we can’t or won’t

we wound his sacred head

we drive another nail into the hands of Christ

we pierce his side

This is what makes

the passion story

so familiar,

so challenging,

so painful,

and             so personal.

In our arrogance,

we hold grudges

and cling to the pain of past slights and violations.

We nurture resentments and tote them around –

    holding them as so precious 

that we would sacrifice

the sweet possibility of God doing something awesome

          for the bitter gall of our own way

We would rather join the jeering crowd

          than trust the Lamb of God

In our ignorance

we judge others:

preferring to “tsk – tsk” in finger pointing contempt

than to heal with forgiveness

The crowds that ripped branches from trees

and screamed with excitement

          did not understand:

         

their hunger would be eased

          and their emptiness filled

not by conquest

nor power

nor wealth

nor even condemning others

but only by the challenge, the grace, the power, of

the cross.

No branch of science, nor bible study class,

can explain the cross completely.

No homily or lecture

can

fully outline its meaning

give justice to its weight

or unravel its mystery

Yet,

all of us

will eventually find ourselves

walking that dusty,

lonely path to Calvary,

and,

standing before the cross

we will face our self

Naked

Without pretense nor excuse

Without crutch of resentment or grievance or blame

Then, we will hear from the heart of the cross

“whenever you have done it to the least of these

you have done it to me.”

Our hearts will tremble, tremble, tremble

When we hear from the heart of life:

“Whoever wishes to come after me

Must deny themselves

take up the cross,

and follow me.”

For there, on the cross

in the person of Jesus Christ:

the Holy Mystery of God

turns to us a human face saying;

“Fear, not, for I have come to redeem you.”

This week, this holy week,

the Garden of Gethsemane

redeems the Garden of Eden

The human fear and treachery of every Adam and every Eve

within each of us

meets the human trust, love, and obedience

of Jesus of Nazareth.

This week

standing bare

before the cross

words well up from our very souls

“O Lamb of God

who takest away the sins of the world

have mercy upon me.

O Lamb of God

who takest away the sins of the world

have mercy upon me

O Lamb of God

who takest away the sins of the world

please, O please,

grant me thy peace.

Amen