Pessimism Permanently Punted

Image

 

 

 

 

I.

I’m not sure how easy it is to convert a pessimist into an optimist.  I’m sure it’s possible, but probably rare.  (By the way, as I typed these words yesterday, I was sitting at Starbucks on Marsh Road, waiting to meet with Amanda Catania and our new Social Media Coordinator, Michelle Moran. 

Image

 

Looking out the window, I noticed the front bumper of a scratched up Acura.  There was a Handicap tag hanging from the rearview mirror.  One of four or five bumper stickers across the front of the car reads:  “Just Say NO to Negativity.”  What are the chances?)

So, I’m saying it’s probably rare to turn a pessimist into an optimist—though I’m sure it happens on occasion.  With that in mind, I’m wondering if it’s a responsible use of time to try to encourage thinking pessimists to relinquish their pessimism and to embrace, in its place, optimism.  I mean, if one begins with almost any day’s news from any of the major news networks, there’s not many places to grab hold of optimism.  Some of the news shows may end with a happy tale or a cutsie story, but after having been told how the world is falling apart for an hour or half an hour, the little upbeat word at the end is nearly incomprehensible.  “60 Minutes” for most of its history may have gotten in right by ending a show with an offbeat word from a pleasant pessimist—at least curmudgeon—Andy Rooney.

 

Image

 

I ran across a book review a while back of a book I’ve not read so what I’m sharing with you today is based on the review, but you can see why a book titled, The Rational Optimist, came to mind as I was gathering my thoughts for today.  The author is Matt Ridley, whom the reviewer says has made his marks in the world as a zoologist, a banker, a journalist, and for good measure an expert on evolution.  Ridley sets out to invite his readers, thinking people, to dare to embrace a positive view of the world—that is, optimism.  The gist of his argument, I gather, is that while humankind has in modern times developed “an unmatched capacity to resolve its most pressing challenges,” pessimism has probably dominated world views for about the same amount of time our country has been its own free land.  Yet, in “contrast to more pessimistic predictions, humanity has not collapsed.”  On the contrary.  In the last thousand years, life expectancy has increased significantly in many parts of the world, and violence indicators have been on the decline.  Humans have rather continuously increased quality of life for many in the species. 

 

Image

 

 

The Rational Optimist.  Worth pondering, huh?

 

 

II.

Some religions attempt to offer words of optimism, but usually in the context of that particular religion’s winning out over its enemies by and by.  Judaism is an exception in this regard.  When the ancient writers pictured the culmination of history, all nations and peoples had come together.  Yes, they were on Mount Zion, but they weren’t all Jewish by either ethnicity or belief.

Generally, religious groups that have offered optimistic options have done so on a distinctively conditional basis—mostly promising the real good out there to their own adherents, and in many cases these groups have claimed the ability to predict not only what comes to be in this world, but also in the next realm with which they seem more familiar than a traveler who has just returned from an extensive excursion at some fascinating part of the globe.

You will, perhaps, recognize at least some of these words as those of Karl Marx:

Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, just as it is the spirit of a spiritless situation. It is the opium of the people. The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is required for their real happiness. The demand to give up the illusion about its condition is the demand to give up a condition that needs illusions.

 

Image

 

The phrase, “opium of the people,” or, “opiate of the masses,” is often used out of context.  Marx was thinking more deeply here than at a level that would have allowed to take a callous, rather random swipe at religion.  

While I was certainly taught to scoff at Marx and any of his ideas—especially his perspective on religion—even as a professional religious insider, I have to say that, in most cases, he’s correct.  Religion isn’t without value for those who need to have their senses numbed, but when it’s time to face the real world—as he says, minus illusions about life as it really is—religion has to go.  In other words, any optimism most religions offer is real as an imagined utopia.

Perhaps the most openly pessimistic writer in Judeo-Christian scripture is the author of the book of Ecclesiastes in the Hebrew Bible.

The words of the Teacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem:  “Futile! Futile!” laments the Teacher, “Absolutely futile! Everything is futile!”  What benefit do people get from all the effort they expend on earth?  A generation comes and a generation goes, but the earth remains the same through the ages.  The sun rises and the sun sets; it hurries away to a place from which it rises again.  The wind goes to the south and circles around to the north; round and round the wind goes and on its rounds it returns.  All the streams flow into the sea, but the sea is not full, and to the place where the streams flow, there they will flow again.  All this monotony is tiresome; no one can bear to describe it:  The eye is never satisfied with seeing, nor is the ear ever content with hearing.  What exists now is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing truly new on earth.  Is there anything about which someone can say, “Look at this! It is new!”?  It was already done long ago, before our time.  No one remembers the former events, nor will anyone remember the events that are yet to happen; they will not be remembered by the future generations (New English Translation).

There are varieties of pessimism.  Some pessimism is built on a view of the world that says, either, the world is getting worse and worse—less moral, less safe, and so on.  It can’t get any better.  The downward spiral will keep spiraling downward until we crash at either divine destruction or self-destruction.  The end result in either case will be pretty much the same.  

The kind of pessimism with which the Teacher (or Preacher) writing the book of Ecclesiastes is frustrated is that both the natural world and human experience are just going around in circles.  Nothing is really changing or improving.  Everything is a repeat of what has gone before.  Ho hum.

 

 

III.

Jesus told a memorable story, a parable, about a guy who was in all probability congenitally pessimistic.  Sad to say, all of us probably knows more than a few of these.  Was that a pessimistic assessment? 

The story Jesus told has been so well-remembered that it has a name, “the parable of the talents.”  Dr. Barbara Reid is a nun and cutting-edge Christian scripture scholar with whom I had the good fortune of working last time I had an editing gig–four or five years ago.  Now Dean of the Catholic Theological Union, she says the traditional interpretations of the parable of the talents are wrong. 

 

Image

 

A quick overview of the story is that a demanding master, a wealthy guy, decides to take a vacation or head out on a business trip, and not wanting to lose out on any money-making opportunities from investment sources while he’s away and unable to stay on top of what’s hot and what’s not, he has some smart slaves with financial experience.  He taps three of them to invest while he’s away.  The slave with the most promise gets five talents to invest; a talent was a unit of currency equivalent to what an hourly worker would earn in twenty-five years of steady, hard work.  Let’s say five talents might be equal to a million bucks today.  The next slave got three talents to invest–six hundred grand-ish.  The third slave got a mere quarter mil to invest.  Their mission, their responsibility was simple and clear:  stay on top of this money and keep it invested in whatever makes money.  

The slaves with the most money to invest did exactly as they were told, and they were good.  When the master returned, he was thrilled with how much of a return these two slaves had gotten on the money he had entrusted to their care.  

The slave who was left with the least amount of money to invest buried what he had been given in the ground–presumably to ensure that no market decline would cost his master a single dinarious.  That worked, but no money was made.  In a good market, when there was money to be made with investments, this slave sat on the original amount and ended up not earning a thing for his master.  The master was irate and had him punished severely.  

A common interpretive approach portrays the master as God and the slaves as God’s people who have been entrusted with talents.  The moral of the story is:  to the one who has been given much, much is required.  And despite the fact that talent was a unit of currency, in English most preachers have crafted their sermons to make talent mean “inherent skill,” such as the ability to sing or arrange flowers or whatever one’s inherent or learned best skill is.

Barbara Reid says this approach is as wrong as can be.  Recognizing the subtly subversive streak in Jesus’ teachings and some of his acts as well, she says that, as Jesus told the parable, the slave who declined to invest is the hero of the story, the only one who did the right thing even though there was no happily ever after ending for him.  

How could this have been a point Jesus would have wanted to make?  Well, for starters, he was anything but a capitalist.  The two slaves who invested were status quo types. If they represented followers of Jesus, and they probably didn’t, they were the types who saw value in what he taught, but who still leaned toward traditional Jewish laws as the heart of religion.  

The master in the story didn’t represent God at all, but rather traditional Jewish leadership intent on punishing those Jews who were attracted to Jesus’ twist on what was core in Judaism and for that matter core in spirituality.  

The slave who was given the least to invest and who didn’t invest at all is the example of what Jesus’ followers needed to be doing–namely refusing to be controlled by the status quo, regardless of its power; regardless of consequences.  Investing in the past is a popular but a poor practice.

Professor Reid believes that the parable of the talents shows what happens when someone dares to expose a corrupt system—religious or political; she or he is punished.  Optimism is believing it’s still worth taking a stand against injustice and other immorality. 

Amen. 

 

Image

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kids: Tomorrow’s Energy Core

I.

Two-time Prime Minister of Great Britain, Benjamin Disraeli, was also a novelist, and some say his best novel was the one that carried the title, Sybil, published in 1845.  In this novel, Disraeli has his characters criticize forced child labor.  After a vivid description of what the men looked like as they came up out of the mines after a long, long day’s work–12 or 13 hours–Disraeli’s narrator gets around to a more heart-rending image:

 

Image

 

 

 

So, too, these emerge from the bowels of the earth!  Infants of four or five years of age, many of them girls, pretty and still soft and timid; entrusted with the fulfillment of responsible duties, the very nature of which entails on them the necessity of being the earliest to enter the mine and the latest to leave it.

 

One poignant detail after another in Nigeria of late.  A couple of days ago some news sources reported that several of the fathers of the Chibok schoolgirls–at least 200 of them, proudly abducted by the terrorist organization Boko Haram–are speaking out about the complexity of their tragedy.  Not only do they feel utterly helpless before an evil organization, but also the fathers of these beloved children, missing for a little over a month now, report that not a single representative from their local government or from the Nigerian federal government, no police investigators, and no military personnel have come to them to ask any questions about the identity of their daughters whom the fathers still hope will be rescued.  One of the fathers who was willing to give his name to the press, Abana Maina, said, “We want the International World to help us in prayer so that God may help us to rescue these girls one day.”

 

Image

 

 

How I wish, not only with the issue of the safety and rapid return of these young ladies, that people in none of the religions of the world would be taught that God allows tragedy but might, in some cases, reverse it.  That, however, is for another sermon or another book or another career to promote.

Some of us parents who have walked the floors at night, worrying about the wellbeing of one of our children who was out and unreachable for several hours, have had a taste–and only a taste–of what the parents and siblings of these girls are going through.  If there were a hell, this would be one of the emotions that stokes the fire.  

As with war, God neither causes nor corrects abuse and aggression.  While each of us understands the feeling of the father who has asked people around the world to pray that God would make a way for his daughter and all the others to be returned safely home, a God who could grant such a prayer-wish and who waits to be asked is not a God any of us would care to be connected to anyway.

Let’s not forget that the girls are more than pawns or puppets and that they are the ones suffering the most acutely.  Sometimes, in trying to understand the depth of someone’s pain, there are those of us who focus on how the situations affect the ones to whom we can most readily relate, and those tend to be the ones connected to those who most acutely suffer.  As we may not know what it’s like to suffer the way this person or that one has, we might concentrate on how the tragedy affects someone we CAN see and relate to–for example, a relative of someone who suffers.  Not to minimize the horrors the parents of these girls are enduring, we still have to understand that the children themselves are terrorized directly; they are not supporting characters in the drama.

 

 

II.

The Apostle Paul who didn’t know doodley squat about raising children, which didn’t keep him from expressing an opinion–or, as was the case with the snippet Gail read for us earlier, borrowing an existing commentary on the subject and weaving that into his own composition; adapting if he were so inclined.  

 

Children, the right thing for you to do is to obey your parents as those whom God has set over you. The first commandment to contain a promise was: “Honor your father and your mother, that it may be well with you and that you may live long on the earth.”  Fathers, don’t over-correct your children or make it difficult for them to obey the commandment. Bring them up with Christian teaching in Christian discipline (Ephesians 6:1-4, Phillips).

 

This directive to children is one section of a whole code of behavioral guidelines for a complete household.  There is advice for the wife and mother in the typical home as well as advice for the husband and father in the home.  Then, Paul gets to his words for children that is followed by directives for slaves in the household.  German scholars call these lists of appropriate behaviors haustafeln, household codes.  Paul uses them in more than one place. I say this just to confirm the fact that Paul wasn’t writing along to the church in Ephesus and suddenly decided to slip in a quick word to get a quick word in for kids.  

Now let’s concentrate for a moment on what Paul said to kids within the household unit.  You may know that Paul’s letters were  received by the pastor of a church, and the pastor read the letter to assembled congregation so the children in the congregation would have heard Paul’s word as it was read to a small church group as a whole.  In this case, what he said to them was that it was their responsibility to honor their parents, which was stated in the Ten Commandments–specifically, in the first commandment on the list of ten to have a promise attached to it.  The promise was that if children obey parents, they will inherit long life.  

The fifth commandment on that most famous list of communal behavioral expectations does not promise a long life to obedient children individually.  Rather, it is a promise of longevity, on the basis of common sense, to a society in which children practice parental respect in comparison to a society in which appreciation for parents is neither taught nor expected.  There is a time when obedience to parents’ guidelines is honor parents but in reality is much more a matter of safety and survival, but a maturing honor of parents can’t be tied to behavioral demands by parents of their adult children.

I find it interesting, therefore, that the original commandment among the ten was probably directed not to little kids in the process of growing up, but to adult children.  Adult children, honor your parents because you love them, yes, but also out of a healthy sense of duty as well as the practical realization that a society that throws away it’s elders like yesterday’s suddenly dated pieces of technology will not endure. 

Paul, however, is clearly using the commandment to admonish children still growing up in the homes of their parents.  There is a caveat.  Even a guy who loved rules realized that eventually neither obedience nor honor can be coerced.  And with that in mind, this household code that Paul used, with tweaking or not, has a built in warning for despotic parents.  Overhearing parents had better watch out, or else they’ll lose out.  A growing up kid who has no motivation to respect a parent’s wishes other than the fear of retaliation will escape such a parent’s sphere of influence as quickly as possible.  

 

Image

 

 

Evidently, the writers of the code that came into Paul’s hands believed that fathers more than mothers were the ones inclined to berate children who didn’t inherently love scads of enforced rules.  Thus, Paul and the code to dads:  “Fathers, don’t provoke your children to anger.”  Or, as the Phillips translation has it, “Fathers, don’t over-criticize your kids.”  Don’t weigh them down with so much criticism that keeping the commandment about honoring parents becomes an impossibility. There are many reasons children fail to honor their parents; the one Paul points to here is the emotionally abusive parent who has removed respect for kids out of the relational equation.

 

III.

What do Nita Balderston, Robin Bryson, Patty Fregdant-Yost, Bob George, Don Neal, John Neal, Ann Sharp, Lisa Frankel, Walt Stapleton, Marion Symonds, and Bonnie Zickefoose have in common other than the fact that they are members of Silverside Church?  Hint:  it’s something good! 

Answer:  They were once upon a time Silverside kids or teens or both! Where would we be without these core members today?!? Not in a very good place!  If we can gift the future Silverside with a core such as this one from our present crop of kids, there would be no better endowment.

In the now-old film, “Bye Bye Birdie,” Paul Lynde—playing the father of teens—sang these memorable words:

 

Kids!

I don’t know what’s wrong with these kids today!

Kids!

Who can understand anything they say?

Kids!

They a disobedient, disrespectful oafs!

Noisy, crazy, dirty, lazy, loafers!

While we’re on the subject:

Kids!

You can talk and talk till your face is blue!

Kids!

But they still just do what they want to do!

Why can’t they be like we were,

Perfect in every way?

 

 

Image

 

 

 

Hilarious!

So what IS the matter with kids these days?  Generally speaking, not a thing except what taints them from the outside.  Of course, there are are exceptions.

At Silverside, I know I can talk about this in a company of affirmation and agreement, which is to say, all the parents I know—and I think I know them all—are excellent parents, whatever the ages of their children.  We love kids—our kids and the kids of others.  Kids get priority treatment around here—not because we hope to get a payback from them, though it would be great to see many of tomorrow’s leaders coming out of the ever-growing group of kids we have here at Silverside today.  We make kids a priority, and we do what we can for the kids to give them an enduring foundation for spiritual health and well-being because they deserve it.  An enduring foundation is one that will always contribute to their overall wellbeing, which includes the comfort of self-affirmation rather than self-condemnation, the birthright many of us inherited in our hellfire and damnation church-homes.  An enduring foundation is one that can be built upon; it is a foundation and not a finished structure.  A fitting spirituality is not one set for the ages as it were; rather, it is one that is adaptable to times and circumstances.  Believing that all aspects of a spirituality for one generation become or should become or can become a template for the spirituality of some future unknown and unknowable context is mostly naive, and somewhat selfish—but mostly naive.  

My background for evaluating a healthy spirituality was based on maximum church attendance, maximum Bible study, and maximum scriptural memorization.  That got me started, but had I left it there I’d quickly have outgrown it; and I’d have been left with nothing to replace were it not for the amazing opportunity at just the right time to begin the study of religion and spirituality with a larger-world focus.

All of us here hope that abductions and abuse of children would come to a screeching, permanent stop; if not, the kind of spirituality we want to equip our Silverside kids with—as they are the potential golden energy core for our future—is a spirituality that would have taught them that spirituality is not about private meditation time exclusively or primarily, but heavily focused on making the world a better place.  Today, that we would mean we cannot sit idly by while kids are abducted by terrorists anywhere in the world, as one of countless concerns for justice in all of creation.

Music, Spontaneity, and Spirituality (a sermon delivered on the occasion of dedicating a Steinway Baby Grand Piano, a gift to the church)

Music, Spontaneity, and Spirituality (a sermon delivered on the occasion of dedicating a Steinway Baby Grand Piano, a gift to the church).

Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on Music, Spontaneity, and Spirituality (a sermon delivered on the occasion of dedicating a Steinway Baby Grand Piano, a gift to the church)

Music, Spontaneity, and Spirituality (a sermon delivered on the occasion of dedicating a Steinway Baby Grand Piano, a gift to the church)

I.

When I was a seminarian taking a certain pastoral care course, there was a group counseling experience required as a part of the overall course requirements.  The professor who turned out to be one of the A-List professors in my seminary experience expected us to treat the group counseling component of the course as if he were the therapist and as if we his students were his clients in a group counseling context.  

I found that awkward for several reasons, one of which was that he was not my therapist; he was my professor, and we were going to get a grade out of the “learning opportunity” as he had devised it.  I have found it a good idea across the years not to engage one of my professors as my mental health provider in the same way that I have found it a good practice not to ask my therapist to give me a grade on how well I was maintaining mental health at any given moment.  

There I was at Southern Seminary and enrolled in a course that made me uncomfortable, but got me closer to graduation; I felt stuck.  I finally figured staying was my best option, and I’d have to come up with a way to survive.  I decided that as long as I showed myself to be engaged in the process, though my heart wasn’t in it, I could manage to keep my grade point average unblemished.  I did OK grade-wise, but things didn’t work out the way I’d hoped, the way I’d planned.

It seemed that Professor Rowatt, though I think he may have denied this when someone made the accusation, managed to get one member of the group on the hot seat each week.  The object appeared to be to poke and prode that week’s guinea pig until a sensitive spot was found.  Having made the discovery the professor wanted to be sure the student owned feelings related to having had that soft spot uncovered.  I hated that process. I hated watching one of my poor colleagues have her or his vulnerability exposed, and I hated knowing each week that, while I’d been off the hook that day, my turn was coming.

 

 

Image

Professor G. Wade Rowatt, Ph.D.

 

 

 

Sometimes we dread an impending event to the extent that the dread is much worse than the experience, but in this case my dread wasn’t half as painful as having my day on the hotseat.  I had determined not to sell my soul for a grade by pretending to feel something just because it was Thursday morning, our regular weekly meeting time, and because I knew Dr. Rowatt wouldn’t leave me alone until I emoted on cue, as it were.  Again, if he were here, I he would deny what I’ve just accused him of–not that these events took place but how and why.  Nonetheless, I wasn’t the only one in the group who had this weekly guinea pig perception of what was going on.  

Well, the day came when my esteemed professor decided it was my turn to be on the hot seat.  I experienced anticipatory blushing the night before in the event he uncovered some deep struggle within me that I didn’t want my sister and brother seminarians to know about.   

 

 

Image

 

 

Once the soft spot had been revealed in answers to a series of questions that only psychologists and God knew how to ask and interpret, tears were expected or terror so deeply felt it made peers on the other side of the circle quake with the poor soul who had been terrorized by whatever life event had created the secret scar.  The only other suitable alternative for course survival, as some of us saw it, was an angry outburst to prove we’d been treated inappropriately somewhere along the way, and instead of leaving us pained it had left us irate. Anger was a good thing. But, we were seminarians, and anger didn’t come easily for most of us.

I tired of the emotional interrogation that day but held my cool in the southern gentlemen’s way according to which I had been bred.  When he realized I consistently refused to emote on cue, though, the professor said something like this, “Well, it seems that Farmer has made it to this point in life emotionally unscathed, and for that we would have to be thankful.  He’s nice, isn’t he?  He really is.  He’s so nice he makes me sick since I know under all that southern gentleman facade is someone living in denial about the pain that rips the rest of us apart.”  See what I went through to get to be your pastor?

What he said did make me angry, and I couldn’t keep it in. I was angry for real; I’d had enough. I said so, and I added that my emotions were appropriately in tact so that I was authentic enough not to push myself to feel something just because it happened to be Thursday morning.  About that time, he began to applaud and said, “Well, will you look at that!  Farmer isn’t always Mr. Nice Guy after all.  He can even get angry.  Maybe he’s a real person after all.”  I had nothing else to say that day. 

I made it through the course, and Dr. Rowatt ended up on my doctoral committee of instruction.  By the time I graduated, he was the Associate Dean who gave me my first job as a professor.  That course may be the primary reason I’ve lasted in the pastorate all these years.

 

 

Image

 

Emoting on cue is a bad thing unless you’re an actor, and you have to cry when the director screams out, “Tears!”  I am proposing to you today that praising God and praying are in the same category.  They can’t be done because someone else tells you it’s time.

 

 

II.

I have been thinking for some time about a typical church’s, if there is such a thing, a typical church’s perspective on praise of God. As conceived in several places in Judeo-Christian scripture, praising God is a joyous thing to do; and yet, bottom line, it’s expected of those who want to honor God.  I fear that it is an extension of appeasement attempts.  That is to say, if I don’t praise God, I’d have been taught to believe, there will be a higher probability of having some tragedy befall me and my people so I’m going to join in with a community of worship and praise God to the best of my ability.

 

 

Image

 

 

It’s hard to say precisely what praise of God is.  There’s a whole lot more to it than saying, “God is great, God is good,” or, “God has done marveous deeds.”  If Silversiders were concerned with praising God as so many of our hymns prompt us to do, the fact is that just because we are here in this place, singing those hymns Sunday mornings at 10, by no means guarantees that God is praised.  

If we praise God authentically, we praise God because we can’t help it, because something wells up within us that is a combination of amazement and gratitude and spills out of us in spite of ourselves.  If you think as I do that God is the life-source and the life-force then perhaps when the nurse of doctor first put your newborn into your arms then you may inadvertently have thought to yourself, “Life is miraculous,” or with Louis Armstrong you may instead have thought to yourself, “What a wonderful world.”

The point is, you didn’t have to wait for someone to tell you what to feel.  You absolutely couldn’t help feeling what you felt.  No one could have kept you from feeling what you felt.  

Same thing with prayer.  Let’s rule out as “real prayer” what Tru Dee Burrell calls a “begging prayer”–pleading with God to give us something or to cause something to happen that we really think needs to happen.  Tru Dee’s spirituality is so evolved that prayer for her is seeing or visualizing the unquestionable good for which she longs as already accomplished.  

Many of us have grown up as part of traditions in which praying at certain times of the day or week was presented as an exemplary spiritual practice.  If that is meaningful for anyone, I would in no way be critical, but I have to tell you that since prayer at its core is communion with the Divine I don’t think it can typically be timed or performed on cue.  

 

Image

 

 

If you tell your significant other every single day that you love her or him, that can be a sweet and wonderful thing.  But if you have it on a calendar as a task to be performed at a set time every day as the reminder on your cell phone tells you to do, chances are some of the punch could be lost.  Ritual “I love you’s” are better than no “I love you’s,” but expressing love–often without words–because you can’t help yourself is likely to be more joyously received by the one whom you love.

I was pondering how much I love my kids a couple of days ago.  At a distance I couldn’t show them, so I texted each one.  The text read–and, no, I didn’t copy my words of love to one and send them to the other also–“I love you so very much.”  As if he hadn’t heard that from me with some frequency, my older son texts back asking, “What brought that about?”  

 

 

Image

 

 

I text-answered, “Uhm, your birth.”  He hasn’t communicated with me since.  Geez!  

If I pray on a schedule–on cue, fine I guess.  But if I celebrate out of the blue the Love that is God because I can’t help opening my heart to the Love, that I think is profound prayer.

III.

This gift piano has brought many of us unavoidably to aesthetic ecstasy today, and my prediction is that it will do so time and again in the future.  

 

Image

 

 

Perhaps it will be a part of having us sing in the midst of real world stuff when we can’t help ourselves a song the choir sings from time to time (along with Enya among others).  Whoever penned these words has never been publicly identified:

My life flows on in endless song;

Above earth’s lamentation

I hear the sweet though far off hymn

That hails a new creation:

 

Through all the tumult and the strife

I hear the music ringing;

It finds an echo in my soul—

How can I keep from singing?

 

E’vn though the tempest round me roars

I know the truth it liveth

E’vn though the darkness round me close

Songs in the night it giveth

 

No storm can shake my inmost calm

While to that rock I’m clinging.

Since Love is lord of heaven and earth

How can I keep from singing?

 

Some related readings from our Gathering today:

1) Plato once said, “Philosophy begins in wonder.” Building on that thought, Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg says, “Meditation happens. It happens spontaneously on long walks; it happens during focused episodes seated on a cushion; it happens in packed synagogues. For me, meditation is about awareness. I don’t push away thoughts. I simply keep on breathing. If I don’t grab on to my thoughts they’ll eventually fall away of their own accord.”

2) From Amy Sullivan: “Sometimes I think God shows up in places that smell of bleach and Hamburger Helper. Places that house women in red, fuzzy slippers and children in sleeveless pajamas. Beyond banging doors and crackly announcements God sits in an uncomfortable kitchen chair that rocks but isn’t supposed to.”

3) From Fred Pratt Green:

When in our music God is glorified,
and adoration leaves no room for pride,
it is as though the whole creation cried
Alleluia!

How often, making music, we have found
a new dimension in the world of sound,
as worship moved us to a more profound
Alleluia!

Let every instrument be tuned for praise!
Let all rejoice who have a voice to raise!
And may God give us faith to sing always
Alleluia! Amen.