It’s been said that “people come into our life for a reason, or a season, or a lifetime.” A very special person from another season of ministry made his journey home at the age of 96. We were special friends during the fifteen years we were together as pastor and people. His daughter wrote: “the better parts of me were born out of simply being his daughter.” I believe that all who knew him as a friend could say much the same – that he called “better parts” out of all he knew, simply by being himself.
He spent many, many years caring for loved ones – a beloved wife with dementia, and a beloved son with Cerebral Palsy. Never once did he complain. He spent every day being the best husband, father and friend that he could be, and with that he said he was “well satisfied.” He never looked for more; he never asked for anything different. I’m reminded of Paul words: “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances…..I can do all things through him who gives me strength.”(Philippians 4:11)
One of the last of The Greatest Generation, he was humble and honorable – a man of strong character and integrity. He was good to his word and “could sign a deal with a handshake.” He was one of a kind; “tough and tender, sweet and stubborn.” A visit to his store was like stepping back in time and visiting a general store in Mayberry. Many of his buddies have taken a tenure of employment there after their retirements. There was always lots of conversation and staring out the front window watching the cars drive by. At 96 years old, he still opened his store promptly at 8 am each morning until that day last week when he was taken to the hospital after suffering a stroke.
I’m grateful for the years of love and friendship shared, and thankful for those “better parts” he called out of me, as pastor and friend. Peace and love, my friend, peace and love.
Elizabeth
One cold, clear night last week, I was out in the yard at the manse “considering the heavens.” A beautiful starlit night it was, with the brightest and closest full moon I’d seen in years. The words of Psalm 8 came to mind. This beautiful Psalm celebrates God’s glory and the God-given dignity and worth of human beings.
“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon
and the stars that you have established; what are human beings
that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?
Yet you have made them a little lower than the angels
and crowned them with glory and honor.
You have given them dominion over the works of your hands.” (Psalm 8:3-6 )
Perhaps the mention of the words “out of the mouths of babes and infants” earlier in the Psalm reminded me of a song I enjoyed with my children. The song, “Somewhere Out There” comes from the children’s movie “American Tail,” the story of two little mice, separated and longing to find the way back to each other. One night each little mouse is sitting outside in the moonlight, thinking of the other, and singing this song:
Somewhere out there
Beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of me
And loving me tonight
Somewhere out there
Someone's saying a prayer
That we'll find one another
In that big somewhere out there…
It helps to think we're sleeping
Underneath the same big sky
Somewhere out there
If love can see us through
Then we'll be together
Somewhere out there…
In a time when so much divides us, I’m comforted by the thought that all of us are sleeping under the same big sky, and that someone out there is saying a prayer that we’ll find one another. I find myself saying over and over again, “I’m praying we will be able to find our way back to each other.” I’m praying this for my family, for our church family and for our greater human family – that love will see us through, and that we’ll find our way back to each other.
Elizabeth
In chapter one of Mark’s gospel, we have Jesus’ first words of invitation and challenge: “The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe in the good news.” (Mark 1:15) That same call beckons us in our present moment. Ours, too, is a critical moment of repentance, of awakening and consciousness raising, of believing in, and living into, the gospel – into the good news that the kingdom of God has come near. The abundant life is available right now for all who dare to open their hearts to the reality of “God-with-us” in the midst of all that is going on in our day.
In recent months it seems we’ve been waking up again and again in a continuing nightmare. A relentless, devastating virus has exposed the vast inequities that plague our common life. We have been in the midst of an “uncivil war”; we’ve been shaken to the core by violence and insurrection. We can no longer make our peace with the world as it is. We can no longer numb ourselves to violence and suffering. We must engage the present moment with honesty and courage. Awakening and consciousness-raising will bring about personal change, and personal change will have public implications, and lead to change in our world.
In a recent lectionary study in the Presbyterian Outlook, the words “repent, reorient and recommit” are said to be key words for living these days.
To repent is more than simply feeling sorry for something we’ve done. It also means to change one’s mind, to change our way of seeing and doing things, to move in a new direction. To re-orient our lives is to begin to move into and live into that new direction we’ve come to see. To recommit is a promise to move in that new direction and keep on moving, in all our being and all our doing.
There are defining moment in every life, points of turning and choices to be made as one searches for something to give life purpose and meaning. There are times when circumstances stop us in our tracks, and we realize there must be something more. Perhaps we find ourselves at a point of turning, after months of dealing with the ongoing pandemic, and the political and social unrest. Perhaps we are looking a little more closely at this journey we call life; perhaps we’re seeking for a deeper purpose and meaning than ever before.
I was encouraged by words of hope and promise spoken by the young poet who read her poem at the inauguration. She reminded us that our nation is not broken – it is “unfinished.” And so it is with your life and mine, for we, too, are unfinished. As we “repent, reorient and recommit” our lives to new understandings, and as we follow Jesus Christ and work for the kingdom’s coming among us, God will complete the good work begun in each of us and God will work through all of us for the common good.
Elizabeth