Resurrection—Mystery—Dreams—Mystery

Resurrection—Mystery—Dreams—Mystery

Greg Cory and I were friends for four years before his untimely death on February 1, 2010.  We will, in fact, always be friends, because as our faith teaches us, even in death life is changed, not ended.  Greg was a retired Air Force Police Officer and Dog Handler who actually served eleven of his Air Force years in Minot, North Dakota, and loved it (I never understood that).  After leaving North Dakota, Greg finished his career as a recreation specialist.  After retirement from the Air Force, Greg became a Pastor in the United Methodist Church.  When I met Greg, he was serving a church in Selma Alabama and a year later retired medically from full time ministry and moved back to Wetumpka with his wife Pat, a member of Trinity Episcopal Church where I was Rector.

At 39 years old, just after Greg retired from the Air Force, he had a massive heart attack.  His life was saved because he happened to be in the Emergency Room at a local hospital when the attack occurred.  (He was there for chest pains).  After a great deal of rehab, Greg was able to study to become a licensed Methodist Minister and serve God and the world in that way for many years.

When Greg and Pat moved back to Wetumpka he and I started playing golf together and with other friends, and eating lunch together and “solving the world’s and the church’s problems together.  Greg had a wonderful understanding of the world and of God and of people, including me.  At times, I believe he knew me better than I knew myself.  Often when I got stuck in my work as a priest and preacher, a conversation with Greg would get me back on track.  When I had tough decisions to make, Greg was a good listener and an objective counselor.  I can safely say that Greg Cory was one of the best and most faithful friends I have ever had in my life and I miss him tremendously.

On January 28, 2010 Greg and I played golf with two other friends and then had lunch together at Aw Shucks, a local oyster house.  We even got Greg to eat ONE oyster.  The first he had ever eaten.  The next day, Friday, January 29, Greg came by Trinity Episcopal Church to take me to lunch at Smokin S Barbecue for one of their real, honest to goodness hamburgers.  We had a great visit and then came back to the church, where Greg, whose sense of humor was interesting to say the least, asked my secretary, Shauna Baker, “what she was going to do when her job ended in two weeks?”  Greg thought it was funny; Shauna almost had a heart attack and then almost murdered me before I could explain that Greg “was living in his own little world. 

On Monday, February 1, Greg’s wife Pat called me at 4:00 a.m., as both her friend and her priest, to let me know that Greg had stayed up late to watch the news and apparently had another heart attack and died peacefully sometime during the night.  Lynn got up with me and we immediately headed to Pat’s and Greg’s to be with her, to pray for both of them and with both of them in this most holy and saddest of moments in human life.  Greg was 54 years old.

Two months later, I was walking “the lonesome valley” of Holy week with the congregation of Trinity Episcopal Church.  We were sharing the very human drama of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem, his celebration of the Passover, his betrayal and his crucifixion.  As we entered Good Friday, one of the holiest and most mysterious days of the year, walking the Stations of the Cross and sharing in the Good Friday Liturgy I approached one of the most difficult times in the life of a preacher.  The preparation of a sermon that would proclaim the mystery of Jesus’ suffering, death and resurrection in a way that would touch the hearts of people and preacher, and that would not be an explanation as much as it would draw us into the mystery of “the dream of God.”

As I drifted off to sleep on Good Friday evening, knowing that on Saturday I would be preparing my sermon for Saturday night’s Great Vigil of Easter, and Sunday Mornings two celebrations of the Easter Resurrection, I had no idea how I was going to present and proclaim this mystery and this Good News!  And this is when God or Greg or both gave me this dream.

Shauna, my secretary, and I were sitting in my study trying without much success to deal with some very difficult conflicts that were going on at the church.  As we continued to run into roadblock after roadblock, Greg walked into the church, as he often did, and asked if he could join us.  We invited him in, shared with him what was going on, our frustration and our hopes and dreams for Trinity and our inability to get past the many issues we believed were holding us back.

Greg listened quietly and thoughtfully.   Then gave us his thoughts and ideas and told us he truly believed that everything would work out.  Greg then asked me for a ride back to his home.  As I drove him home, the location changed from rural Wetumpka to a much larger city (as dreams often do) and I let Greg out of the car at a downtown cul-de-sac so he could walk to his apartment.  I thanked him again for his help, he assured me again that all would be well and turned to head for home.  Just as he walked away, I called to him and said, Greg I need to ask you a question.  He turned toward me and said sure, go ahead.  I said, “Greg, your dead aren’t you?” and he smiled that wonderful smile of his and said, yes.

When I awoke, I knew that Greg was right, that all would be well, that the people of Trinity would be fine, that Shauna would be fine, that I would be fine and that with confidence I could preach the Mystery and Good News of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ and the hope of the Kingdom of God!

Beans, Rice and Blessing

After I retired on April 1, 2011, I was privileged to be invited to serve at the Church of St. Michael and All Angels in Anniston, Alabama during Holy Week and Easter of this year as well as a few weeks prior to Holy Week and a week during July of 2011.  I met some really wonderful people who love their Lord and had a passion for ministry and mission to the people of their city and their neighborhood.  St. Michael’s is located in a “Blue Collar” neighborhood which has been greatly affected by the economic recession of 2007 and 2008, the affects of which continue to trouble our nation to this day.  Unemployment in Alabama is still over nine percent.  Construction work, which employed a significant number of men in our state, is down and many families are reduced to one or even no income.

During my time at St. Michael’s, I was invited by many people (especially Pam Roberts, Harvey Roberts and Bette White) to participate in a ministry they were calling their “Beans & Rice Ministry.”  Pam and Harvey learned of this ministry from Trinity Episcopal Church in Clanton, Alabama, where this small church had been making a difference in their community for several years.  Finally, eight months after my first invitation, I was able to participate in this “bridge” ministry (as Harvey calls it) which St. Michael’s began during this time of economic crisis in our nation and our world in September 2010 in response to the command of Jesus Christ to feed the hungry.  Harvey refers to this as a bridge ministry because it bridges the gap between the time people run out of money for food and the time they receive their next check, whether pay check or disability or social security or some other source.

This past Saturday I left my warm bed at 4:45 a.m. to brew and ingest enough coffee for the two hour trip to Anniston.  I arrived at St. Michael’s just a few minutes before 8:00 a.m. in order to participate in the hour and a half or two hours of bagging and boxing of the food in preparation for distribution to those who would come to the church between 10:00 a.m. and 12:00 noon to receive it.  As Harvey and Pam got us started, I had a real sense of “organized (sort of) chaos.”  Everyone appeared to know what their jobs were and what needed to be done in order to be ready to serve their “guests” by 10:00 a.m.  There were over thirty volunteers there, bagging rice, bagging beans, putting cans of vegetables and sacks of flour into bags, preparing bags of fruit, baking potatoes, and sweet potatoes; and, at this special time of year, Christmas candy and ornaments were also available to be given as a special treat for children and adults alike.

A little before 9:00 a.m., all of the volunteers held hands forming a circle around the food, and prayed that God would bless the gifts, as well as those who gave and those who would receive the gifts.  By 9:30 we were ready for the crowds.  We took a deep breath and prepared ourselves for the giving of the food to those who came looking for a blessing, both spiritual and physical, in the name of Jesus.  Two-thirds of the recipients were from the neighborhood in which the church is located.  Others came from all over the community. 

The doors were opened at 10:00 a.m. and within the first thirty minutes, 145 people, representing as many families, came through the Parish Hall and received food that will help them make it through the end of the month.  Between 10:30 a.m. and 12:00 noon, another 73 people showed up bringing the total families served to 218. 

As stated earlier, St. Michael’s began this feeding, caring ministry in September of 2010, knowing that there were many people in the neighborhood and the larger Anniston area who had been and continued to be affected by the economic downturn in our country and in the world.  The idea for this ministry was introduced by Harvey and Pam Roberts, who very soon were joined by over thirty members of St. Michael’s who gather once a month to put together the donations of food and the food purchased by the donations of money in hopes that the church can make a difference in the lives of people in their local community.   The parishioners at St. Michael’s have taken seriously Jesus’ command to feed the hungry among us, knowing that if they “have done it unto the least of these, my brothers and sisters, they have done it unto Jesus.” 

In addition to the people who volunteer their time to this life changing ministry, many among them as well as others make donations of food items and/or cash contributions in order to help purchase additional food.  As a “visitor,” to St. Michael’s, I feel that I have been honored and blessed to be a part of this ministry and to see the giving hearts and spirits of these wonderful people who give selflessly of their time, talents, and money to make a difference in the lives of the people they serve.  I am humbled by the invitation I received to participate in this ministry and even more humbled by the realization that the people who received the gifts that were offered in the name of Jesus, also gave a blessing to us as well.  I cannot put into words all the flood of emotions that I felt as I worked side by side with people serving God and their neighbors.  I can, however, say that it brought new meaning to a song that I learned in Sunday school so many years ago:  “Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world.” 

So, thank you Pam, Harvey, Bette, and all my new friends at St. Michael’s for inviting me to participate in this wonderful ministry.  When I see God’s people living Jesus’ great commission, “love the Lord your God with all your heart and mind and soul and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself”, then I know that we, as people of God, will make it through this difficult time in our world’s history, restoring peace and justice to our world and sharing God’s blessing with one another, today, tomorrow and forever.

Blessings and Peace,

Ben Alford

Man—Woman—Birth—Death—Infinity

Man—Woman—Birth—Death—Infinity

(Television’s Ben Casey, 1961-1966)

Reflections after the Burial and Celebration of Life of My Friend, Johnny Harvey

(1944 - 2011)

There are times in life when we as human beings actually slow down and think about and reflect on the things that are really, really important.  The death of a friend is one of those times.  This past week I spent time at the Wetumpka Nursing Home with friend, Johnny Harvey, who was dying, and with his wife Carolyn.  Johnny had been seriously ill for a year and a half, with many, many bad days and thankfully, some good days as well.  He alternately had infections and times free from infection, times of lucidity and times of confusion.  Through it all, Carolyn and his family and his friends, both from Trinity Episcopal Church and from outside Trinity stood by him and prayed for him.  We also stood by Carolyn, and she by us.  Carolyn was a beacon of light and God’s presence among us during these times that were so difficult for Johnny and for her.

On Thursday as Carolyn and I prayed for Johnny and anointed him with Holy oil for healing, many thoughts and feelings passed through my mind.  Healing, by the way, often means a peaceful death and a perfect rest in the nearer presence of our Lord.  This was certainly true in Johnny’s  case.  As we sit in the presence of a loved one who is dying, the first realization is that we can do nothing.  It is enough to be there, to hold our dying friend’s hand and for those of us keeping vigil, to hold on to each other.  This can certainly be a time for tears, a time for laughter, a time for sharing memories and a time just to sit and be quiet.  The second century B.C. preacher says it best.

3For everything there is a season, and a time for

every matter under heaven: ² a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; ³ a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up; ⁴ a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance; ⁵ a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; ⁶ a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away; ⁷ a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; ⁸ a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace. (Ecclesiastes 3)

When we gathered on Tuesday at Trinity Episcopal Church in Wetumpka, Alabama to celebrate Johnny’s life and funeral I, and I am sure, many others opened our hearts and souls to the many feelings that had been washing over us the past few days.  I thought about Johnny and Carolyn and their love for each other, and about their children who love them even though their lives have taken them far away.  But, I also reflected on the people in my life who have changed me and pushed me and loved me and even those who have hated me, because they all helped to make me who I am and to make me stronger.

I thought about my forty year marriage to Lynn and the trials and tribulations we have been through together and about the good times.  I thought about my feelings for me son, Seth, who lives too far away to see on a regular basis and how much I love him and how proud I am of him.  I felt the presence of my parents: my dad who died way to young and how much I miss him.  I thought of my mother who I am blessed to still have in my life, who is 88 years old and lives only two and one-half hours away and what a blessing it has been to live close to her these past five years after living so far away for so long.  I also thought about my three brothers and many wonderful friends who have made a big difference in my life and many of us have actually gotten to know each other as real people just in the past few years.

One of the strongest feelings that swept over me in these past few days has been that of life as a gift from God and the people in our lives as gifts from God as well.  Having said that, what really touched my heart is how important it is for us to live every minute of every day to the fullest.  The greatest promise Jesus ever made to us was that “I come that you might have life and have it to the fullest.”  Life to the fullest, life in all its abundance, life as gift, life in relationship with God and God’s people, this is what we are called by God to do with what we have been given.  To borrow from Robin Williams’ character in the movie, “Dead Poets’ Society,” ‘Carpe Diem,’ ‘Seize the day.”  This day is the only day we have.  We do not know how many others there will be, so love long and hard, give and receive unselfishly and “live life to the fullest!”

I close with the words from a tape of Johnny singing at his daughters wedding.  This was played before the gospel at his funeral.  What a powerful statement of the love of the man who sang it and of the presence of the Holy Spirit in all of our lives.  Thank you Johnny for being our friend, and for teaching us how to live.  “Rest in peace and may God’s perpetual love be with you always.”

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The Rose:

Some say love, it is a river,
that drowns the tender reed,
Some say love, it is a razor,
that leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger,
and endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
and you, it’s only seed.

It's the heart, afraid of breaking,
that never learns to dance,
It's the dream afraid of waking,
that never takes the chance.
It's the one, who won't be taken
who cannot seem to be,
And the soul afraid of dying,
That never learns to live!

When the night has been too lonely,
and the road has been too long,
And you think, that love is only,
for the lucky and the strong!

Just remember, in the winter,
far beneath, the bitter snow,
lies the seed, that with the sun’s love,
in the spring, becomes the
Rose..