Love, part 2: Romantic Love
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Posted:Sep 6, 2008 10:07 pm
Last Updated:May 19, 2024 12:52 pm 2198 Views
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Somewhere in my library is a book titled “The Art of Loving” by Erich Fromm. In it (I am going by memory at the moment), the author (a noted psychoanalyst) describes Love as having four necessary components: Trust, Respect, Understanding or Comprehension (of the other), and a Willingness/Active Desire for the other’s well-being. This essentially describes Agape of the Greek language, or perhaps our meaning of True Love. Fromm goes on to write a whole book around these four basic points.
I know I’m being overly cerebral and a bit too analytical about this - it’s in my nature, but then so is passion. This is not so easily described, except by poetry and those poetic love songs, which can sometimes get just a bit too syrupy sweet (for my male mind). But this love, this romantic passion, is so fine, so intense, and so motivating that I think we all want and expect it again. It is the fire which is so necessary for that fourth part of Love - but yet it can be so intense that it can be blinding - - to reality. Caveats aside, I’ll take it in a heartbeat.
We need go no further than scripture; let’s look at the Song of Solomon. It comes after Ecclesiastes and is the third of the canonical books attributed to Solomon (although he was probably not the real author). You may not have studied this in Sunday School, or heard a pastor preach on this book of the most beautiful songs to have been written by Solomon. It is a love poem, is frankly erotic, and was composed to celebrate a wedding.
Even in translation, this is a beautiful poem. Here is one part, Chapter Four:
How beautiful you are, my darling!
Oh, how beautiful!
Your hair is like a flock of sheep
that frisk across the slopes of Gilead.
Your teeth are as white as sheep’s wool, newly shorn and washed;
Perfectly matched, without one missing.
Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon,
And how lovely is your mouth.
Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate
behind your veil.
Your neck is stately as the Tower of David,
built with elegance and jeweled with a thousand heroes’ shields.
Your breasts are like twin fawns of a gazelle
that graze among the lilies.
Until the day breaks
and the shadows flee,
I will go to the mountain of myrrh
And to the hill of frankincense.
You are so beautiful, my love;
So perfect in every part of you.
Come with me from Lebanon, my bride,
Come with me from Lebanon.
Descend with me from the crest of Mount Hermon,
from the lions’ dens and where panthers prowl.
You have stolen my heart, my lovely, my bride:
You have stolen my heart,
With one glance of your eyes
and one jewel of your necklace.
How sweet is your love, my darling, my bride;
How much better than wine.
The perfume of your love is more fragrant
than all the richest spices.
Your lips are sweet as honey, my bride;
Yes, honey and cream are under your tongue,
And the scent of your clothes is like
the smell of cedars of Lebanon.
My darling bride, my love
you are like a private garden,
A spring for no one else.
You are like a lovely orchard bearing precious fruit
with the rarest of scents:
Nard and saffron,
Calamus and cinnamon,
All trees of frankincense,
With myrrh and aloes,
And all other lovely spices.
You are a garden fountain,
A well of living water,
Refreshing as the streams
From the mountains of Lebanon.
Yes, the agricultural and herding metaphors may seem a little strange -- but that was their life, then. And OK, I am guilty of some revisions here. I took the best verses from the parallel I have, which has four versions of the Bible, side by side: King James, New International, the Living Bible, and the Revised Standard. These translations of Solomon’s love poetry is so diverse, that I just chose the verse liked, and combined them. Well, that’s the way I like it.
May you find romance, and may Love find you!
Tom
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Love, part 1
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Posted:Sep 1, 2008 6:03 pm
Last Updated:Sep 6, 2008 8:09 pm 2410 Views
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Love is like
a pineapple,
sweet and
undefinable.
- Piet Hein (1905- 1996)
Love! Isn’t that why we are all here? To share, with each other, the joy of God’s love and the perfection as realized in Jesus Christ here on earth? And to find, somehow, another person with whom to share this experience? Or perhaps someone we can trust and respect, who will show the same to us?
It is so complicated, yet so simple, and still so elusive. There are almost half a million of us here on BC; other web sites have even more (but I prefer this one). What to make of this? So many, looking for love. As undefinable, individual, and etherial as Love is, I would still like to take a shot at defining, or at least discussing it.
I shall start with some scripture:
“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.” John 15:12
Yet, I note one early church father’s commentary: “Loving one’s enemies does not mean loving wickedness, ungodliness, adultery, or theft. Rather, it means loving the thief, the ungodly person, and the adulterer. Not as far as he sins (in respect of the actions by which he stains the name of man), but as he is a man and is the work of God.”
- Clement of Alexandria, c. 195 A.D.
So, there are boundaries to Love, and Jesus was not asking us to be self-destructive. This issue of the boundaries of one’s soul is important, if we are to maintain our spiritual balance. I confess again that I am imperfect and limited; I cannot love every person in this world, so I learn to do what I can, in my own imperfect way.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, the Apostle Paul tells us about love in a most poetic way:
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” I Cor 13 : 4-7.
I am certain that I have fallen short in each of these areas at one time or another. Yet, it is immensely important to have an ideal by which we can compare ourselves, however imperfectly. This is a good list, thanks to Paul.
Speaking of lists, how many of us still carry that list, that record of wrongs by others still in our hearts? It can weigh you down, corrupt your good nature, and frankly be depressing. This is why Paul exhorts us drop our record of wrongs, for our own sakes. Yet, I think, he is not asking us to forget evil, but to make peace with it - at a proper distance.
Just a bit on word translation from the Greek, in which much of our New Testament was written. The Greeks had five words which we, in our impoverished language of English, can only translate as Love: Agape, Eros, Philia (or Phileo), Storge’, and Xenia.
Agape means the pure, idealized form of love which Paul described above, and is the way Jesus loves us. It can be translated as “love of the soul”.
Philia/phileo is a kind of virtuous, but dispassionate love - a concept first developed by Aristotle. It includes loyalty to friends, family, and community, like patriotism. It can be described as “brotherly love” and “love of the mind”.
These are the only two Greek words used in our Bible to describe love. Those not used are:
Eros, or passionate love, with sensual desire and need. It can be described as bodily love, and perhaps romantic love. Most of us know this - it’s a kind of chemistry that happens, for good or bad.
Storge’ is the natural affection that develops, usually like that of parents for their , or for exceptional friends to one another. It surprises me that this word is *not* used in our biblical scripture.
Xenia is a form of ritualized hospitality, and was very important in ancient Greece. It is a kind of generosity and courtesy shown to those who are far from home. It was reciprocal between traveler and host. I’m sure this was described many times in the Old Testament, but not with this word, which was not part of Aramaic. Today, I suppose, we just travel too fast... yet I know hospitality is welcomed, certainly by me when I am traveling.
I think all of us would want all five of these loves, in proper balance.
To make matters still more confusing, we have multiple words from Latin, which we translate as love in our scripture. More on this later.
Another Grook from Piet Hein:
Love while you’ve got
love to give.
Live while you’ve got
life to live.
I hope you find your loves... and that love finds you!
Blessings,
Tom
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.... and then I got that phone call
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Posted:Aug 28, 2008 6:17 am
Last Updated:Sep 6, 2008 8:18 pm 2216 Views
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I was having a good day in a good week. I was busy, and plans for this fall are coming together nicely, in spite of a poor economy these days. It looks good for another trip back to Iowa, in conjunction with another technical conference I’ll be attending in Minneapolis in October. Busyness often translates into happiness for me.... and then I got that phone call from my brother Michael.
It seems my mother was in the hospital and had suffered a mild heart attack. Her name is Sally. My brother had noticed her symptoms of tiredness lately (Mom had mentioned the same to me earlier on the phone) and this day saw it was worse with problems in her left arm. He called 911 and the ambulance rushed to the local hospital there in north Georgia; the time savings made a difference - no heart damage. I said a blessing to God for the circumstances which brought my brother back to our parents’ house to live a few years ago.
The problem stems from that awful addiction to nicotine and smoking that so many people from my parents’ generation do have. I also said thanks to God for my good health and that I never did smoke, even though surrounded by it’s addicts.
I won’t be making that 1000 mile trip from Texas to Georgia this week. Mom will be out of the hospital by Friday, Mike assured me. And she is surrounded by my three younger brothers and their families, as well as some of my cousins. I will call her soon, though, when she is more rested. Perhaps she has received the little present I sent her last week - an Amish handcraft item from Iowa. But I think I shall plan a trip in November, for Thanksgiving.
This kind of think forces you to stop and reflect. I consider how fragile life really is - and how ephemeral. I again realize that time is precious and feel guilty for my procrastinations. I am indeed thankful for God’s continued presence in my life and all the bountiful opportunities He has given and continues to give to me. But I also do long for that special someone on whom I can lean during moments such as these.
Why am I so darned independent? That is an illusion, really. We are all dependent on each other, and on God. We are His who, all too frequently, do not listen. Today though, I listen.
So this will pass, and my mother will recover. I pray the next phone call will be years away; I selfishly pray for that time....
That was yesterday. This morning I called Mom, and she sounded chipper and impatient to go home. I told her to do so - after all, there are a lot of sick people in hospitals, you know! So she is fine for now and can get back to her gardening, cooking, and running things for all of her men. Now I must fix a flat tire on my trailer...
Tom
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Scripture: the Beatitudes and Spiritual Wholeness
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Posted:Aug 19, 2008 10:45 pm
Last Updated:Sep 6, 2008 8:19 pm 2485 Views
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My favorite passage in the New Testament is Matthew 5: 3 - 10, known as the Beatitudes (comes from the Latin word beatus, or blessed). This work is the beginning text of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, as I’m sure you know. From time to time, I teach this as a single lecture for an adult Sunday School class. I do not take credit for this analysis; rather, most of it comes from Terrence Duniho in his book Wholeness Lies Within, 1986. Let’s review them:
Blessed are the poor in spirit ....
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they that mourn...
For they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek ...
For they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness,
For they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful ...
For they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
For they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers ...
For they shall be called the of God.
Blessed are they which are persecuted for seeking righteousness ...
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
As a young man when I read this, I thought it was just a group of unrelated, but nice sayings; I did not get it. But when I read Duniho, this became crystal clear - the Beatitudes describe a path to becoming whole with God. So here goes.
Got a tissue handy?
Note the literary form of these eight verses; the first and last verses refer to the “kingdom of heaven”, while the others do not. Each verse is an “if-then” logic statement like: “If we mourn, then we will be comforted.” This suggests a strong belief in cause-and-effect, which we need to keep in mind here, for our analysis of these time-honored words.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Until recently, I (with others) had interpreted this to include only those who *recognize* their spiritual poverty. But no, it means just what it says. The kingdom of heaven is offered freely as a gift to us all who are poor in spirit. And that means all of us, folks! However, to receive this gift we must become *aware* of our sore lack. The kingdom of heaven is a metaphor for our awareness of being directed by a power beyond our little minds to comprehend. It is within. To realize this lack is to see spiritual reality, and yet also see how far we are away from it. We may only be on the outskirts of the Eternal City.
Blessed are they that mourn... For they shall be comforted.
Restated, this becomes “It is a good thing when we are quite unhappy about our spiritual poverty, because our grief and tears will bring us into feeling comforted. How slowly we learn this lesson, that crying can be a good thing. If you have been truly sorry for your shortcomings, then this has probably not only humbled and helped you, but allowed you to be noticed by others who then comforted you.
No one will mourn their spiritual poverty unless we become aware of the spiritual realm to the point that we know that the Spirit *is* Comfort. Then that Comfort (being held, being connected to life, being whole) does follow if we truly grieve being spiritually poor.
Blessed are the meek ... For they shall inherit the earth.
As we experience life with more and more meaning (and Comfort), we allow ourselves to be more open, to be more vulnerable -- more meek. It is a very good thing to be able see the world through the Lord’s eyes because then all the riches of this earth can be ours. By honoring reality and by *not* dealing with others (or ourselves) through a mask, we become available to what is truly good here in our world.
Blessed are they who do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.
As we begin to experience more of the beauty and spiritual richness available to us, our awareness of what it really means to live in the kingdom of heaven, and what it means to live our lives through wholeness with God, will grow. We will no longer be satisfied with small portions of the divine riches which can be ours. We will hunger and thirst for all of it! Here, “righteousness” is not self-righteousness or that holier-than-thou attitude. Rather, it is seeing the “rightness” of things, to know their goodness, and to see God in them. As Jesus also says, “Seek and Ye Shall Find.”
Blessed are the merciful ... For they shall obtain mercy.
What is mercy? It is recognizing the spiritual poverty of others, experiencing their grief for and with them, seeing them as they really are, and not projecting our fears and inadequacies on them. Then wanting them to also experience the fullness of what life can offer. Pretty tall order - but this is why it comes at this point in the Beatitudes. We need to progress through these things ourselves, before we can give this to others. It is impossible to be truly merciful unless we have been “filled.”
Blessed are the pure in heart, For they shall see God.
As we become filled up and reach out more and more to the needs of both others and ourselves (Love your Neighbor as Yourself), and instead of concentrating too much on *my* need or on *their* need, our hearts become purified. Mercy must be shown both to self and others for it to be real. If we experience mercy in both these ways, both from us and to us, then we become centrally focused, we are centered in life. No longer double-minded, confused, or in doubt. It is then that we are able to see God clearly. God is all there is -- and in perfect harmony with life.
God is both he and she; joy and sadness; change and sameness; logic and feeling... all in support of wholeness.
Unless we personally experience and move through these stages of (1) recognizing our spiritual lack, (2) grieving that lack, (3) learning to trust in life enough to be vulnerable and open, (4) hungering for wholeness with God, and (5) being merciful both to others and ourselves, we will not become “pure in heart.” Therefore, we will not “see God.”
Blessed are the peacemakers ... For they shall be called the of God.
So what happens to people who “see God”, who see both sides of an issue, and who see beyond those sides to a synthesis? They become peacemakers, of course! They see what you are emphasizing and what your enemy is emphasizing are really two parts of a larger and more meaningful reality. They want you to experience the beauty and wholesomeness that comes when we discover how to merge opposite points of view. They want you to stop warring within yourself. Peacemakers will be called “ of God”, that is, they will be recognized as being the offspring or divine agents of the energy of this universe. By whom? Not by all, for sure.
Whenever a Peacemaker intervenes, whether that person be Abe Lincoln, Dietrich Bonhoffer, or Martin Luther King, Jr, then that person is attacked and they can expect persecution. These people are members of the society of wholeness, of the kingdom of heaven.
So here we have come full circle. And now you know where our train is heading: to the kingdom of heaven. All aboard!
cirq
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Running... and Cherry Juice
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Posted:Aug 19, 2008 4:00 pm
Last Updated:Aug 19, 2008 8:20 pm 2337 Views
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In my journey of spiritual recovery, I have made some big jumps recently. It really helps to put things in perspective by helping others who are truly in need. And the study of scripture has been quite a joy the last few years. I am truly thankful, God. But the journey continues, and there are more stops for this train, as it pulls me along...
I need to get back in shape again. I let things lapse for years... just did not have the motivation, frankly. But now things have changed, thankfully. I look forward to getting up (early) every day with as much excitement and enthusiasm as I did when a . Yet with a certain peacefulness I cannot adequately explain. This is the blessing of the Holy Spirit in me.
So, now it’s time to recover the body as well as the spirit. I used to be quite the jogger when younger, and was very serious about it. When I left the (full time) Navy - about when I was thirty - I went to work in northern California, Silicon Valley. Very nice climate there. I bicycled, played a bit of tennis, and (mostly) jogged.
I started running longer and longer, eventually working up to eight miles or so. I set my goals on running a full marathon. Thats 26 miles, 385 yards folks. This is not a trivial endeavor. It requires persistance, sweat, and avoidance of injury. My ways to avoid injury:
(1) If it hurts, slow down, (2) If it really hurts, walk, and if it really, really hurts, stop and see a doctor. I never got to step 3.
Eventually I got to running in competitions, and my favorite were the half marathons, 13 miles. Ran so many, I lost count. Some were on flat ground, and some were in the hills. I was competing against myself, of course. A decrease in time was a victory; if the time went up, then it must have been those darn hills! My resting heart rate went down to 59 beats per minute, or so. My BP was perhaps 108 over 65. I was in very good shape.
Then I next ran a series of full marathons. First, I ran the San Francisco marathon; then Avenue of the Giants (up in Redwood National Park, then the Silver State Marathon in Reno, Nevada. Reno was the worst, the hardest because of it’s altitude of 5 thousand feet (as I recall). I just ran out of air, and had to walk; it took four hours, but I finished it.
But now I’m older, and I’ve been too sedentary. Still, no real health problems, just need to lose weight and improve my cardio. And that takes diet and exercise. No, make that exercise and diet. The exercise comes first. Of course for diet, I’ll take up the ever popular CB3 approach. Haven’t heard of that? Simple: Cut Back, Cut Back, Cut Back.
My short-term goal is to run in the Capitol 10K next spring in Austin. So, if I put this print and publish it to the world, then I’ll do it.
Oh, the Cherry Juice. I like to read the various science channels, like ScienceDaily. Saw an article which described a study of various fruit cocktails for their healing capabilities, specifically for muscle regeneration. Cherry juice came out on the top of the list. I’ve got some in the fridge, now. I’ll need it.
Thanks for listening to my self-indulgence here; and Bless You.
cirq
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Closing Out Cedar Rapids (for now)
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Posted:Aug 18, 2008 8:35 am
Last Updated:Aug 19, 2008 6:57 am 2353 Views
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These trips to Cedar Rapids have been an unexpected source of spiritual renewal for me. I feel closer to God, I have a deeper sense of purpose for my life now, and I feel better physically. I also have a greater appreciation of you women and what you can do under tough circumstances. I expect to go back again in the fall. Kind of addicting, you see.
Since I was seventeen, I have been in male-dominated work situations. Engineering school, the Navy (few ladies back then), then working for defense contractors in California and here in Texas. Graduate school at night. Not a lot of interaction except in some of my sidelines, mainly music. I’ve played for a lot of community orchestras, and I play the drums; lately the big ones, tympani. And some through church.
Never had any sisters, and my mother (bless her heart) is kind of a bossy type. She keeps my dysfunctional family together somehow, back in Georgia. I go back there for a few days, once a year, which about all I can handle. I try to be a good , though. I call a lot. They always need computer help, etc.
My experience in marriage was not good. The lady, while a naturalized US citizen, was from Mexico -- Guadalajara. I came to like and appreciate that city, interior Mexico, and its people. But this lady was a disaster for me - a constant soap opera of self-inflicted problems, as were her extended family members. They expected me to clean up the messes but after several years of trying, I came to realize how this game of manipulation was being played, and refused to participate any longer. But it took it’s toll on me.
Getting back to church was the first step in my reconciliation with God and myself. I felt peace, and I felt at home. I got back into scripture -- in a Bible study class which was, and is still immensely satisfying and uplifting. That was four years ago. Now I even lead this class sometime, when the regular guy is out of town. It’s fun.
Now back to Cedar Rapids. There I got to work with a variety of people, men and women, who were (and are) working in hard situations to help others. I knew of what men were capable - I have seen that over the years. But now I got to witness, first hand, what women could do. All sorts, young and old. I met perhaps five different female pastors, several lay leaders, workers in the field, and women directly affected by this tragedy.
All I can say is Wow. Very, very impressive. I could go on and on, but let me just say thank you, women of Cedar Rapids, for restoring my faith in womanhood and giving me a better understanding of your fair sex. It’s a pleasant balance, now.
It also points to a better way to get to know someone. Try going on a working date, where the focus is not yourselves and some typical form of entertainment, but try something, such as a local mission project, where the focus is on others’ needs. That just might work better.
And do think about going yourself (yes, YOU), if you can afford it, to help in Cedar Rapids. Just do a web search on Cedar Rapids directly, or through your church’s national mission areas which handle that sort of relief work. Yes, the Katrina areas still need help, too, but they don’t have winters like in Iowa, so there is an urgency now. I understand the folks up there are running relief teams until the first hard snowfall occurs, maybe November. Then picking up again in the spring.
Bless you.
cirq
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A Tornado in Iowa
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Posted:Aug 12, 2008 7:28 pm
Last Updated:Aug 24, 2008 8:53 pm 2457 Views
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A Tornado in Iowa
I was on my way back to Cedar Rapids from Wichita one Sunday afternoon last month, July. With me were the second team I brought from Texas - Dale and Annette. They are a couple originally from Houston, married and about my age. Wonderful people, as I got to know them in the next week. We were on our way to do flood relief work for the Methodist Church. This was my third trip; their first.
Of course, the plan was to take I-35 north, through Kansas City, then to Des Moines, where we take a right turn on I-80 to Cedar Rapids. We never made it to Des Moines. I had seen several storms off to our left (west) as we passsed from Kansas into Missouri; we missed those, but I noted that some of the thunderheads were quite large. As we passed into Iowa, the weather got more and more cloudy; it began to look threatening to the north.
Some background on me. I am a trained weather spotter with experience from my aviation days in the Navy and also as an amateur radio operator, where we assist in informing the public about bad weather conditions and in warning folks to take cover, protect livestock, etc. My instinct is to go away from or around storms, depending on how bad they are. I had to go against my instincts today.
Even though I had never been to Des Moines before, I knew there would likely be a local weather net operating in conditions as this. With a little searching, I found the local frequency, and, sure enough the local weather net was active, with several fixed stations reporting conditions and looking at local radar tracks. I checked in. As a mobile station, I could be invaluable to spot and report bad weather: high wind gusts, heavy downbursts, hail, and even a tornado (God forbid).
The weather was a heavy squall line north of Des Moines, and headed southeast at 35 mph. Typical stuff for Iowa. Just some moderate winds and rain reported so far.
I elected to turn east off of I-35 well before getting to Des Moines. State road 92 seemed good - it headed east to a town called Indianola. Dale and Annette were right behind me in their vehicle; I was giving them updates via some little FRS walky-talkies I brought along. They were invaluable that day.
The weather got worse, and we started hitting intermittent light showers. On high spots, I could see a solid front coming down from the north. The wall of rain looked solid black at 3 pm in the afternoon. It looked to be about 10 miles away. On the radio weather net, the operators started talking about hail and high wind gusts, say up to 50 mph, inside the center of Des Moines. I was getting concerned. The light show of cloud-to-cloud lightning crackeled impressively on all my radios.
I called Dale on the FRS and asked if he wanted to turn around. He said press on, but gun it. So, we went as fast as we could, still in relatively good conditions. But when we got close to Indianola, we got behind a very slow farm tractor going at most 30 mph. Frustratingly slow; couldn’t pass because of the curvey nature of the road there. Shower activity started picking up. Back in Texas, we would be cheering this weather, it ahd been so dry and hot. But this part of the country had already seen too much weather in the last few months.
At this point, I started hearing reports of a ‘hook echo’ on the radar via the ham operators in Des Moines. Now a hook echo is bad news. That is where the worst weather occcurs in a squall line: highest winds, hail, and possibly even a tornado. This is to be avoided, to put it mildly. I began making mental prepartions to take cover. I said a prayer.
After finally passing through the little town of Indianola, we continued east on Highway 92. I spotted a church off my left with its lights on. Then the weather broke on us, the heavens parted and it began raining - huge, cascading buckets of rain. It was raining cats, dogs, elephants, and giraffes. You might throw in a hippo, too.
I stopped, and turned around for that lighted church, which turned out to be Lutheran. The Mt. Calvary Lutheran Church of Indianola, to be precise. I parked as close as I could, and dashed inside, getting totally drenched in the process. Not sure an umbrella would have done much good -- it was raining almost horizontally then.
A couple of folks were inside - seemed to be preparing a meal in their kitchen. It was about 4 pm. I asked if we could take shelter, and they said sure, and would we like to stay for dinner? So, I ran outside again, and waved my team inside and we stayed there, at Mt Calvary Lutheran Church, for the next two and a half hours.
We dried off with small hand towels, but that worked. They were listening to the weather on the radio also, and it seemd that all the really bad stuff was about ten miles to the north east, near I-80. Right where we were headed.
Now the meal was being prepared for the public; Indianola hosts a big balloon festival every year at this time, and the church is near the open fields where this takes place, so they open their doors for a hungry public and sell a few Tee Shirts and things to make a little money. We all bought a Mt. Calvary Tee-Shirt, naturally.
The meal itself was typical summer fare -- hamburgers, hot dogs, chips, and bug juice (grape koolaid). But the desert was to die for. It was home made Rhubarb - berry pie, topped with two scoops of home made vanilla ice cream. It seemed certain we had entered the Kindom of Heaven at that point. We were truly grateful. The Lutheran took this all in stride; quite normal for them.
We got on our way, and caught up with a bit of the trailing edge of those storms, but nothing really bad. Saw a rainbow as we got up to I-80. And then we noticed the path across the interstate where the tornado had crossed. Trees down right and left, going right across I-80. Perhaps an F zero or F 1. I said a prayer of thanks as we proceeded, uneventfully, to Cedar Rapids. What an adventure.
Cirq
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A Sermon for Cedar Rapids -
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Posted:Aug 10, 2008 4:17 pm
Last Updated:Aug 24, 2008 8:55 pm 2197 Views
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Last week in Cedar Rapids, I was working at the St. James UMC site on Ellis Blvd. I brought my power tools (reciprocating saw, drills, lights, etc) - we didn't need my generator since power was now available - although it was just a simple power drop to outlets outside. My team's task was to cut out electrical conduit going in the basement near the main breakers and the heating boiler; all electrical had to go, and eventually the huge boiler too.
We worked down there for hours, taking breaks for water frequently. It's just sweaty, hard work and you have to breathe through the N-95 mask, which wears you down. Since friend James was tall, and doing most of the cutting, I went upstairs to work on other tasks (a long list on a white board there).
One of my team members, Annette ( a strong woman about my age) was working with a small girl outside, shoveling top soil off the 's playscape, so the ground would be safe again. It was a pretty day, and so I decided to help (and to get out of that awful basement for a while).
It occurred to me that, in a little while, it might be possible to actually have church services down there. Now the building is not ready, so it would have to be outside. Why not? The traditions of John Wesley (on his horseback) and J.C. Himself beckon. I could call this Sermon in the Muck....
(Digression: After the shock of the first week working in the river muck at Cedar Rapids, I found myself being quite silly at times when away from the trenches on Ellis. After dealing with more emotions in a few days than one usually gets in years, I needed a compensating mechanism, and that, for me, was humor. So, please forgive me if I seem flip or irreverent. )
Prior Saturday: select 12 young people (say ages 12 - 22) to deliver leaflets around the neighborhood for this service). Set up an audio system out on the lawn, test it. Get some chairs and some N-95 masks for those who might need them. Store until the next morning. If it rains, then delay the start.
Sermon in the Muck: “Seasons on the River of Life”
Good morning! As a newcomer to Cedar Rapids, coming all the way from the relentless heat of Texas where all the world seems to whither and die in our summer, this beautiful town of yours seems so green and pleasant, with tall, lush trees of all varieties and lovely gardens. At least until you come down to the Cedar River, to ground zero here on Ellis Boulevard, where the river took such a huge toll on the lives and livelihood of you citizens of Cedar Rapids. Your are cleaning up this mess with energy and good humor, mostly, and the piles of debris have dwindled considerably from the mountains of the carnage of your lives on these streets.
Now, from where I hail down in central Texas, we have different seasons than you do here. Yes, we have four: Hot, Dang Hot (that’s when we say a blessing over each glass of water), Hurricane (forget the blessings), and Sherman’s Winter. Haven’t heard of our winters? That’s when you folks in the North have had too much of your own winter and so you send down an invading army of ice into the Southlands for your entertainment as we play bumper cars and fall on our rear ends a lot. And it’s often preceded by a flock of snow birds who go right down on another river we call the Rio Grande. They’re smart folks and we’re glad to have them.
Now here, I understand you have five seasons. Had to puzzle on that one for a while. What could that fifth season be? Then I heard that it was the time to enjoy the other four. Well heck, that sounds nice, but it doesn’t meet the logic requirements of my engineer’s brain. I wanted another, honest-to-Pete real season. So I went back to mucking out a garage with a wheel barrow and power washer.
Later, on my way back to hotter’n Hades Texas, I thought about this again. It occurs to me, that this fifth season may be the Season of the River. But’s not on the calendar and it’s not predictable, but as we can see before us on Ellis Boulevard, this season is a very real thing.
Just as in Ecclesiates 3, this river has a Time for Everything and a Purpose for Everything.
It is born in the smallest drop of water, and it provides sustenance for us and the crops we sow. It grows as it procedes on it’s journey, always flowing one way until it’s energy is dissipated into the mighty oceans of the world. Sometimes, though, the river’s season is destructive and it lays waste to the fragile human dwellings along it’s banks and reminds us of just how powerful it can be. Of course, God made the river just as He made us.
In a way, we too have seasons like the river. These are the Seasons of Life; some are orderly and predictable, like going to school or going to work or church, or celebrating a birthday or a holiday like Christmas. Right there on the calendar, so you know what to expect. That is how so many of us live our lives, in our comfort zones.
But then comes the unpredicted seasons of our lives, those flooding events which take us by surprise and grab us, sweeping us along the River of Life in unexpected directions -- for good or for bad. That’s God’s Way. You will be changed by these seasons.
Right now, I’m on one of those unexpected flooding seasons as are you. I was called to be of some small service to you people of Cedar Rapids. I wish I could do more. The winter is coming and so many of you are in need. I am truly humbled by my own inadequacy in the face of this large scale disaster.
Perhaps I can offer a bit of perspective. Let’s take a moment to reflect.
The river flooding can also be seen as a cleansing event; toxic waste is washed downstream, and river silt can invigorate the land so we can grow better crops next year. And for us, too, this can be a season to rebuild. Not just our homes, but our relationships with each other, and or relationship with God. Like in the early days of Ticket Town, let’s help each other. You are already doing this. The government can be quite helpful, but can only do so much. The rest must be done by us, one-on-one, family to family, block by block.
Yes, the edifices can be restored, but what of the broken souls? The government has no fund for the recovery and restoration of broken souls, but God through his Jesus Christ has a plan. And right now, whether you realize it or not, you are working that plan. You do it through love for each other, one shovel-full at a time. So now is the Season to Rebuild - your relationships with each other, and your relationship with the Lord.
Get to it, my friends of Iowa. How I love you so.... and so does God.
Now, as we depart, please listen to the music. Rather than a hymn, it is a waltz, the Beutiful Blue Danube by Strauss - perhaps one of the most uplifting melodies in all of the classics. It is time to reconcile with the River, reconcile with each other, and reconcile with God. And perhaps, to dance with God again.
May the Lord be with you always!
cirq
Ref:
(1) Ecclesiastes 3: 1 - 8
A Time for Everything
For every thing there is is a season,
and a time for every purpose under Heaven:
A time to be born, a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to harvest,
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to destroy, and a time to rebuild;
A time to cry, and a time to laugh;
A time to grieve, and a time to dance;
A time for scattering stones, and a time for gathering stones;
A time to hug, and a time not to hug;
A time to find, and a time to lose;
A time for keeping, and a time for throwing away;
A time to tear, and a time to repair;
A time to be quiet, and a time to speak up;
A time for loving, and a time for hating;
A time for war, and a time for peace.
(2) Order of Worship
(Entrance & Praise)
Prelude: Also Sprach Zarathustra, tone poem by R. Strauss (Chicago Symphony); Einleitung (sunrise). Comments on the World Riddle theme: unsolvable paradox of world's end.
Greeting. Have people sign in, listing their addresses in Ticket Town and relief locations.
Hymn. "Amazing Grace"
Opening Prayer. Ask for healing...
(Proclamation and Praise)
's Message. I'll need some help here...
Baptism. Hmmm, haven't they been baptised enough?
Peace of Christ, Acts of Praise. We all need His Peace.
Scripture. Ecclesiastes 3: 1 - 12
The Gospel. Matthew 7: 24 - 29.
Sermon. "Me and You, Lord." Play the three segments from Bill Cosby's "Noah" routine. Time is about 8 minutes. Humor can be risky, but no one does it better than Bill Cosby -- and it ends with Noah saying "me and you, Lord." It will have people's attention. This leads directly into the power of Christ's Presence and that sermon. The Lord is always with us, even when we are severely challenged...
(Response and Offerings)
Hymn. "Higher Ground", Oatman
Joys, Concerns, and Prayers. This could be endless; skip it for once.
Offering. Here's a radical stance: instead of asking for gifts, fill the plates with loads (say, $2000) of $20 bills, and pass them around, asking for each person to take what they need today. If it still comes back with money, pass the plates around until someone takes that last bill. People *will* be stunned. If someone wants to give, then suggest they go to a non-affected church and offer what they will... might be nice to a uniformed police officer, from the congregation, in obvious presence.
Doxology. As usual.
The Lord's Prayer. Ditto.
Hymn. "I Surrender All", Deventer.
Blessing. How about lunch for these folks?
Postlude. Why do we *always* have to have religious music? "An der Schoenen Blauen Donau", or Blue Danube waltz by J. Strauss, II.
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Ticket Town Collective
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Posted:Aug 7, 2008 8:26 pm
Last Updated:Aug 12, 2008 1:36 pm 2276 Views
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OK, I’m not from Cedar Rapids, I’m from Texas. Worse yet, I talk funny - according to Iowans. I have a Georgian accent (that’s where I was raised), which gets worse when I’ve had a few brewskies. I keep trying to correct you Iowan’s diction, but y’all refuse to cooperate. Durn Yankees. But there are bigger problems; like the ‘08 Floods. No, that was not 1908, but now. This year. In Cedar Rapids, Iowa, one of the prettiest, nicest towns you ever did want to see -- y’all. I think it has more churches per square yard than heaven. OK, OK, I exaggerate a bit. Learned to do that on the Chattahoochee River.
In Cedar Rapids, there just doesn’t seem to be any skeeters like back in Georgia. Just lots of tree-lined boulevards and a whole lot of dang pretty girls. If only they coulld speak Southern. And if it wasn’t so pleasant here, maybe they would wear skimpier outfits like back in Austin.
I digress: that’s around Coe College, uptown, away from the filth and muck and human carnage down in old Ticket Town - Ellis Boulevard, Fifth street, etc, where it’s a war zone. Cleaning is still going on, but not at such a frenetic pace. Most of the people’s lives have been disposed of into the four designated dump areas. Let’s see if I get it right: the wood products dump, the metals dump, the who-knows-what dump, and the OMG Its Toxic! dump. Is that about right? Seems close.
Anyhow, it seems that I kept hearing this “Ticket Town” appellation when I was trying to find these places to clean up down by the river (that’s the Cedar River, folks). Ticket Who?? Let’s see. This is baseball season. Iowa is known for baseball, at least for baseball fields in the middle of tall corn fields, where ghosts play baseball with old-fashioned mitts. Maybe it was tickets for that. Got any night games?? Anything better than my struggling, over-the-hill Atlanta Braves.
But no - it had to do with Cedar Rapids and old railroad history. I probably have this wrong, since I only heard it once, and can’t seem to find a whisper of a reference on the net. It seemed that when the railroad came to town, they displaced the steamboat companies for freight service and hired everybody and their grandma to work -- down by the river, since it was easiest to build rail lines along the river valleys. Not so much up-and-down, don’t cha know.
As I came to understand, the old town of Cedar Rapids grew rapidly about a hundred or so years ago, and these cute little tree-lined streets came into being, complete with two-story houses, pretty much right out of Tom Sawyer. No doubt they had a lot of white-washed fences back in those days.
But then things got bad for the railroad, due to stiff competition, a national depression or two, and so the time came when the rail company was flat broke. No money for weekly wages meant no money for the saloon on Friday night, or the dance hall on Saturday night, or the church plate on Sunday morning, or the Sunday afternoon baseball game. Or for food.
Getting desperate, and wanting to keep the trains running, the rail company started issuing script for labor hours worked, i.e. tickets. Soon, the town started trading this script for what ever:
“Hey Mabel, how’s about a dozen aigs from your clutch this week. I’ve got three tickets.”
“All right Gertrude, but I’ll give two of ‘em back for one of your Rhubarb pies on Sunday.”
Ans so it went, and so Ticket Town was born - about a hundred years or so ago. It was built on faith in each other. And, I believe, in God.
So here you are again, Cedar Rapids. Another crisis by the river. Homes flooded, city flooded, small and large businesses flooded, and lots of churches. No time to rebuild before the winter; maybe just time enough to get these old structures ready to be rebuilt next spring. Maybe.
Now I have to tell you folks, these Cedar Rapids people are working their rear-ends off, from what I can see. And generally, they have a great attitude, considering the scale of this river’s destructive course. Not to mention Waterloo, Palo, Iowa City, etc. All up and down this river system.
People are getting tired, especially those over 50. And where is the money? Some is here from FEMA and the service agencies like the Red Cross. The Salvation Army sends their canteen trucks across the trenches. If you have good credit, you can get an SBA loan, but then if you don’t have such great credit, you may not get that loan. And what if you are in the hundred-year flood plain, which (last I heard) was still being debated as to whether the City would allow rebuilding. But then if they don’t they have to buy you out. But they don’t have the money, either. Maybe it will come from the Feds somehow. No one knows.
That’s really great for motivation to rebuild your house. Maybe build an ark instead (OK, bad joke).
But how about a Ticket Town Collective, like in the old days? Maybe as a group, you can negotiate with banks to get a group loan, so some of the less fortunate can stay and work. Or negotiaate discounted food, like a coop. Or trade labor specialties in the repair trades, automotive, legal services, even negotiate medical group coverage. Bring your in on this, with all their youthful energy. Form a home-owners or neighborhood group, if it doesn’t already exist. Like in the old days. Faith in each other. Faith in God. Else it’s going to be a long, cold winter ...
-- Cirq
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