A Look at God’s Gifts and God’s Forgiveness

A Look at God’s Gifts and God’s Forgiveness

Based on Matthew 25:14-30

The story of the three servants and the talents has always encouraged and discouraged me at the same time.  As I begin reading Jesus’ parable I get a sense of the blessings that come from using the gifts and talents God has giving us to help build up the Kingdom.  The land owner blesses the faithful servants and multiplies their “talents.”  All this is well and good until I continue to read about the servant who buried his one talent in the ground, I have always understood that the servant did not use his God given gifts and therefore lost them, but find it difficult to understand his being thrown into outer darkness where he was punished with the gnashing of teeth.  I am left hanging, wondering about God’s forgiveness, and the opportunity to start over and try again.  (Thank about Noah’s story).

As I was reading and reflecting on this important parable this week I came across a suggestion that there may be two ways to read this story. I considered the possibility that Jesus may even have been telling two stories at the same time, in order for us to see two possibilities of how we can use our gifts to build up God’s Kingdom.

I invite you to join me as we explore the two stories within the story. The standard interpretion, the classic focus of this story is surly the  importance of investing our gifts and talents which God has given us to become, if you will, co-creators with God in building up the Kingdom.  This will always inolve risk, but faithfulness is surely the goal.  In this version of the story, the one talent steward demonstrates a failure of faith.  He is the fool and the land owner and the other two stewards are wise.

This interpretation hooks us: if we work hard, invest our talents and use all the gifts God has given us, we receive a blessing.  If we choose, as our one talent friend did, in either fear or self-protection, to bury that talent, we lose bigtime. 

Another way to read the story, and possibly a second meaning Jesus may have had, focuses on the landowner and the “one talent” steward.  Reading the parable this way, we see a story about a tyrant, a dishonest business man, rather than a benevolent and loving land owner.  The emphasis in this story falls on a master who prophets from  illegal, dishontst activities: “you reap where you did not sow and you receive what you did not earn.”  This dishonest gain is named for what it is by the only one in the story who refused to be co-opted.

In ths reading, the master and the stewards with the five and two talents are the fools and the steward with the one talent is wise, even though he pays the price for standing up for his values. 

This reading asks, whose voices matter in a world rife with power abuse, in a world where it can be much easier, and safer, to go along with the crowd?  This reading also asks us, “what does it really look like to use our talents to build up the kingdom of God?”

In this story, living faithfully means naming the reality of the abuse of power and standing with the one who is not cowed by that power but is bold and ready to suffer the consequences of that boldness.  This may mean confronting injustice and abuse in families, board rooms and church vestries, the work place and public arenas where injustice occurs.

Both readings emphasize responsibility and accountability: we either use or squander our gifts and talents.  We use the gifts God has given us, including the gifts of wisdom and discernment which guide is in making decisions to build people up rather than tear them down.  Wisdom is one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit and is not to be taken lightly.

Reading Jesus’ parable through these two lenses invites us into a full and fruitbearing life in the presence of God that is open, expansive and hopeful.

The kingdom of rightly ordered power that comes near us in Jesus sets us free from tyrany and directs us to life in all its abundance.

Sometimes History Finds Us In the Midst of Life

Sometimes History Finds Us In the Midst of Life

“Those who do not remember their history are condemned to repeat it:” George Santayana

By Ben Alford, Albertville High School, Senior Class of 1966

On September 30, 2011, members of the Albertville High School Senior Class of 1966 gathered for a pre-homecoming game meal at the home of classmate, Harriett Dunn.  One of those classmates was Robert Manzy, one of two black students who entered our class in the fall of our senior year.  The following reflections are based on conversations among thirteen or so classmates who left the game just after half time and walked back to Harriett’s to visit for awhile.  It is amazing what we all saw and felt during those days and how different our experiences were.  It was enlightening to hear Robert’s memories of this day, the events which led up to this day and the year that followed.  I hope and pray that it was just as enlightening for Robert to hear about our experiences as well.  Not only did we get to know Robert better, and he us, but I believe that many of us came to know in a different way people we have know for over sixty years.

In the Fall of 1965, a group of seventeen and eighteen year olds, mostly interested in cars and football and members of the opposite sex found ourselves in the middle of events that shaped and changed our world and our lives.  Public schools in Albertville, Alabama admitted thirteen Black children and teenagers.  I write these reflections forty-six years after that late summer morning when a yellow school bus showed up in front of Albertville High School and four black teenagers, three boys and one girl, got off to begin their first school experience in a school with an otherwise all White student body and faculty. 

As Robert talked about that first day and all that led up to it and as we, his White classmates, shared our experiences, all of us got to know one another better.  Forty-six years of life has shaped and changed us all and we are different people and yet, the some people who gathered on that hot, late summer morning.  My goal in this essay is to share last Friday evening’s conversation and reflect some on how this experience helped make us who we are.

Robert’s story begins in the summer of 1965 when a group of Black parents approached the Marshall County Superintendent of Education and told him that they wanted their children to go to school in Albertville, the school in their home town.  The Superintendant, Wayland Cooley, informed the parents that he was a member of the Ku Klux Klan and asked them to continue sending their children to Lakeside School in Guntersville.  All the black children and teens in the county at that time were bused to Lakeview.  Lakeview had no science labs and no indoor plumbing.  Roberts mother asked to speak and told Mr. Cooley that her children were smart and she wanted them to go to a good school, in their home town, where they could get a good education. 

On the big day, a school bus showed up in the one “black neighborhood” in town and picked up the students.  The bus was led by a police car behind which was a car with the mayor and other city officials in it.  The bus was also followed by two more police cars with officers “brandishing shotguns.”  None of the rest of us remembered this nor had any idea of the police protection and how dangerous this was for Robert and the other 12 Black students.  There was probably some danger for us as well, but we were too young and invincible to know it.  Robert told us that the police did pick up one person with a gun.

Some of our classmates remember that we all gathered at the flag pole to welcome our new classmates and that Frank Hughes walked over, shook their hands and welcomed them.  Others of us do not remember this at all.  Robert does not remember this either.  Becky Lang Gore remembers greeting Robert in homeroom trying to make him feel welcome and again Robert does not remember this.  Harriett Dunn told us that other “girls” in the class refrained from speaking to the Black boys for fear that they might cause trouble for them if they were seen talking to a “White girl.”  It is fascinating to hear these stories forty-six years later.  I sense that most of us did not talk much about these things when they were happening.  We just did our best to live life a day at a time.  We were seniors in high school, we wanted to study (a little), play a lot and move into the rest of our lives which lay ahead of us.  And yet, this experience of being the first class in our school to graduate with black students changed us forever. 

Over our short lifetimes we had all seen restrooms for “men, women, and Colored,” and water fountains for “White and Colored,” and we all went to the Carol Theater to watch the movies.  Robert and his Black friends and family, however, had to enter by a different door and sit in the balcony.  Some of our classmates did mention that they always wanted to sit in the balcony because they believed the view would be better.  None thought it a good thing that Robert had to enter through a different door. 

All of us had experienced segregated life in Alabama, but only Robert, among us, experienced segregation as the one who was “segregated out.”  Robert and I first met at the Albertville Health Department when we were around six years old.  We had gone there for our pre-school vaccinations.  We were both skinny little six year old boys, but our experiences were very different.  Robert shared with us Friday evening that a man had come up to him, taken his face in his hands and said, “I am not going to slap your face because you are a ‘nigger.’”  Neither of us are quite sure what that meant but we are both sure that it did not happen to me.  As Robert talked with us about having to use separate restrooms and water fountains, and being “bused” to Guntersville to go to school, and being told both verbally and non-verbally that he was worth nothing, I began to get a better sense of “the other side of segregation.”  I saw not only how we as a society treated Robert and others like him, but how we continue to treat with disdain, hatred, fear and anger those who are different from us: people of other races, nationalities, religions, sexual orientation and any other difference we as human beings can find to set ourselves apart and to “make ourselves better” than “the other.”  Robert told us that two factors in his life, his mother and his church, continued to impress upon him and remind him that he was worthy and that he was a child of God, and therefore as good as anybody else in all of God’s creation.

Many of our classmates served in the military forces of the United States during the late 1960’s, and many, including Robert and his brother, Bernard (Yeshua), served in Viet Nam.  Robert told us one last story that broke my heart and I can only assume, the hearts of others in that room on Friday evening.  Robert tells that, “after two years of serving my country and fighting for its freedom in Viet Nam, I came back home to Alabama.  I went to Gadsden to visit my mother and while there, took my date to the Skating Center.  I was told by the manager at the Skating Center that ‘niggers’ were not allowed to skate there.  This was the most insulting and devastating experience of my life.”  As we let this story sink in, all of us were quiet and thoughtful and reflective. 

We are all, Robert, me, and the entire Senior Class of 1966, who we are today because of where we grew up and when we grew up and because of what happened on that historical day in 1965, and all that led up to it and all that has followed it over the past forty-six years.  We have grown up a great deal since that day.  Our Nation has grown up a great deal since that day.  Have we grown to the full maturity God would have us reach?  No.  Has our Nation reached its full potential as hoped for by God and human beings alike?  No.  But, we have changed and we have grown and we are better people and the world is a better place.  And Robert Manzy and the entire Albertville High School Senior Class of 1966 have helped to make this so and will continue to do so as long as God gives us life and breath.  The even better news is that our children and grandchildren and all of those whose lives have crossed paths with ours will continue this legacy for as long as the world shall last and as long as the sun continues to shine.  I am proud and blessed to have been and to continue to be a part of “this blessed company of faithful people.”

I hope that Robert and other members of our class will add to, correct and continue this ongoing conversation.  HBA

Some Reflections on 9/11/2001,

Some Reflections on 9/11/2001,

Beginning with Scriptures about Judgment and Forgiveness

Romans 14:1-12: Welcome those who are weak in faith, but not for the purpose of quarreling over opinions. . . . Who are you to pass judgment. . . ? It is before their own lord that they stand or fall. And they will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make them stand.

We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.

Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister?  Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God.

Matthew 18:21-35: Peter came and said to Jesus, "Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?" Jesus said to him, "Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.  "For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, `Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.' And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt.

Sept. 11, 2011 Revisited

We all have stories to tell about 9/11/2001 and where we were and what we were doing when we saw or found out that planes were flying into and through buildings in New York and Washington and into a field in Pennsylvania.  I was in a Hospital room at Baptist Hospital in New Orleans to pray with and anoint Norma Salinger before her early morning surgery.  The television was on and a 12 year old girl from Lafayette was playing the fiddle.  All of a sudden the screen switched to the world trade center with smoke pouring out of it.  As we watched, a second plane flew into the other tower.  And the rest, as they say, “is history.”  When I left the hospital I went to the Bluebird Café for breakfast, and heard people talking about planes flying into the Pentagon and, of course, I corrected them.  “No,” I said, “it was the World Trade Center,”  And the rest, as they say, “is history.”

            I know all of you here, if you are old enough, have your own stories as well and I hope you will share them with your friends and loved ones.

            What I pray that we can do today with our time together in worship is to remember those who died on that day and those who have died in the ten years which have followed, both from the United States and from other places around the world.  I also want us to reflect on who we are as Christians, and how we as followers of the prince of peace can help bring about justice, peace and reconciliation around the world.

            When evil happens in our world we need to recognize it for what it is and to bring it to an end.  What happened ten years ago today was evil by any standard.  Over 3000 people died at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania.  Today we remember them and their loved ones in our prayers.  It is also important for us, as Christians, that we remember the almost 8000 U.S. service men and women who have died fighting terrorism.  As followers of the prince of peace, we are also called to remember the 16,000 plus civilians who have died in Afghanistan since 2001 and the over 150,000 Iraqi civilians who have died since 2003.

            War is hell and even when it is necessary, we as Christians should approach it on our knees with tears in our eyes.  This is the Christian posture of repentance and humility before God.  This posture can allow us to see all people, including our enemies as children of God.  This posture may help us to see that all Muslims do not wish to do us harm any more than all Christians wish to do harm to all Muslims.  It may also help us as a nation to use our military power judicially and to remember that we have other tools as well.  I am not offering easy answers; I am saying that life is “just simply complicated,” and that our faith and our relationship with God can assist us in our relationships with others of God’s people.

            In the days, weeks, months and years since 9/11/2001 we have found strength and unity in singing “God Bless America.”  As important as that is, I would like to suggest an alternative song for us as we remember the past and look to the future.  You may have heard it.  It was written by English Slave Trader and sometimes Anglican Priest, John Newton, in the late 1700’s.

                        Amazing Grace! how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!

                        I once was lost but know am found, was blind but now I see.

                        ‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved;

how precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed!

The Lord has promised good to me, his grace my hope secures;

he will my shield and portion be as long as life endures.

Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come;

‘tis grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.

This hymn reminds us that we depend on God not just to bless us, but to lead us and guide us and protect us.

            Emma’s Pennies: Theologian and Church Historian, Dianna Butler Bass tells the story of her then four year old who, after 9/11, came to hear as she was dressing for work and asked for some pennies.  Emma then went to her dad and asked for pennies and then back to her mom for more pennies.  Getting irritated, Dianna asked, “why do you want all this pennies?”  Emma responded, “I want to send them to the dead people in New York to help them feel better.” 

            Butler Bass tells one more powerful story about Emma, post 9/11.  Emma asked about Osama Bin Laden and why he did what he did.  Dianna’s answer was, his heart is filled with hate, but God Wants’ it to be a heart of love.  Emma did two things.  First she asked why his heart was filled with hate, to which Dianna tried to explain free will to a four year old.  Then she told her mother that she was going to pray every day that God give Osama Bin Laden a heart of love.  Emma frequently asked her mother, has the man’s heart change yet?

            A four year old understood that praying for one’s enemies is central to Christianity and essential for God’s forgiveness. 

Conclusion

Earlier this week I saw on YouTube, this short homily by Bishop Michael Curry of the Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina and want to share it with you.

“In July of this year, 76 children were killed at a summer camp in Norway.  The Prime Minister addressed the nation and the world that day and the following evening.  This is what he said:  ‘This was an attack on innocent people, young people at camp. It was an attack on all of us.’”

The Prime Minister went on to say, “those who did this will not destroy us or our democracy or prevent us from brining about a better world.  They cannot bomb us into silence or shoot us into silence, and they will not frighten us.  Tomorrow we will show the world that rather than destroying democracy, that democracy will grow stronger.” 

“We will bring to justice those who carried out these evil acts and we give thanks to the first responders who made this less of a disaster than it might have been.  We must never give up our values and we will show the world that our open society will pass this test too.  WE OWE THIS TO THE VICTIMS AND THEIR FAMILIES”

Then Bishop Curry shared what he had shared with this congregation of St. Philips in Durham on 9/11/2001 when he had been present for the sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation:

“When the whole world falls apart, we, the church, continue to do what we do; we baptize new people into the Body of Christ; we continue to form new disciples who will follow in Jesus’ footsteps to bring about God’s will in this world so that this kind of horror will never happen again.  We Christians join with other people of good faith to show the world that the way of God’s love becomes the way of life.”

“The Hebrew Prophet, Isaiah said it better than can I: ‘The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together and A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM.  The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.  The nursing child shall play over the hole of the vicious snake, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the snakes den.  They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea’”

“GOD BLESS YOU, GOD BLESS US ALL, AND KEEP THE FAITH!!”

Random Reunion Reflections

Random Reunion Reflections

45^th Anniversary Reunion of Albertville High School Class of 1966

Ben Alford

I am still basking in the glow of this past weekend, September 3 - 4, 2011, as the Albertville High School class of 1966 celebrated the 45^th anniversary of our graduation.  I am trying to put into words what it is like to have known people and been close friends with many of them for my entire life.  One classmate, Charlene Buckelew McCoy and I were born in the same hospital on the same day, and LaMon Brown and I met at Mr. Martin’s Store when we were five years old, back in the days when five year olds could roam the streets and neighborhoods without fear.  Frank Hughes and I lived across the street from each other and Patricia Bethune lived across the street from my grandmother, and Thomas Alford is my cousin.  There are many more connections from very early in our lives: church, Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, baseball, football, basketball to name only a few. 

Many of us started first grade together and others moved in over time.  In 1963 a large group was added to our number as the ninth grade graduating class from Asbury Junior High School joined us for high school.  Finally, in 1964, Ernest, “Bill,” Kirkland and Robert Manzy joined us from the Lake Shore School in Guntersville where all the black children and teenagers in the county attended school. 

Gathering with friends, acquaintances, and people we knew only by sight forty-five years ago, a lot goes on in one’s mind.  The first thing I reflected on was my own life, what I have done and left undone, where I have succeeded and where I have failed, times when I have given thanks for all my blessings and times when I was so down and depressed that the idea of giving thanks never crossed my mind.  Another powerful emotion is that of our mortality, especially in a class of 175 which has lost forty-two of our members to death.  Gathering again, I found myself thinking about how I have changed, how the rest of my classmates have changed and about what we have learned from one another and can continue to learn from one another.  It also occurred to me that some of the things that divided us forty-five years ago: the football players and the band members, the rich and the poor, the city and the country, Baptist, Catholic or Church of God, while important in our formation and growth may not be quite the barriers and boundaries they used to be.  In fact, I sense that we may even appreciate some of these differences.  How boring would it be if we were all alike?

I suppose what I am feeling is that after forty-five years we have actually grown and matured.  Many of us have experienced profound successes.  Many have experienced profound failures and tragedies and losses.  .  By sixty-three years old, most of us have lived long enough to experience both.  Some have gone through one or more divorces or other relationships which ended differently than planned.  Some have experienced serious illness, some have had spouses or children or siblings die and almost all of us have lost one or both parents.  We can learn from each other.  We can see how others handled and overcame experiences that we cannot even imagine and we can draw strength from them.  What I have learned, to quote John Donne, sixteenth century English Poet, is that:

No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as a manor of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

God created us to be in relationship, in community, in communion with one another.  It is no wonder that Jesus said, “the first and great commandment is this, you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and mind and soul and strength, and the second is like it, you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”  Life is about relationship, faith is about relationship. 

We of the Albertville High School class of 1966 share a common history and my sense this past weekend is that in spite of the miles which separate us, and the variety of experiences and careers and life styles and political and religious and economic differences, many of us are closer now than we were forty-five years ago.  Even though we are still interested in football and other sports, and camping and hunting, and fitness and fishing, we are also interested in our children and grandchildren or nieces and nephews.  We are arriving at a point in life from which we want to leave the world a better place than we found it.  We want to find a way to educate the ignorant and feed the hungry and create jobs and to make life better for just one person who might make life better for thousands or millions.

All weekend I noticed people with an interest in others and their stories.  Where have you been, what have you been doing for all these years.  Who did you marry, are you still married to him or her?  Do you have children and grand children?  Are you still working, or are you retired?  What is it that makes you want to get up each day?  Why in the world would you ever vote for that person or go to that kind of church, or live in a place like that?  I noticed a passion for life that, God willing, we will keep till the day we die.  As Jimmy Buffett says, “I’d rather die while I’m living than live while I’m dead.” 

            As we were preparing for the reunion I had the opportunity to chat with Anneva Hard about her life and the blessings and trials that have been hers.  We talked about the fact that we knew each other when we saw each other, “back in the day,” but that we really did not know each other.  As we prepared for the Sunday morning worship service we got to know each other better.  The week before the reunion Anneva went into the hospital and we were not sure whether she would make it to the reunion or not.  I promised to “bust her out” of Marshall South if I had to and I also promised to dance with her, wheel chair and all!  As it turns out, husband, Richard, “busted her out” of the hospital at three Saturday afternoon, we did get to dance together, wheel chair and all.  I suspect others got to know people they did not know that well forty-five years ago. I hope you will share those experiences with the rest of us.

            It was also fun to find out who is related to whom, or to remember who is related to whom.  Not to mention any names, but it would be interesting to draw a family tree for, oh, maybe, Harriett Dunn or Rita Gore Dowd,  to see to whom they are related—just in our class.  I am reading a book by an author friend, Lexi George, here in Wetumpka.  The story, Demon Hunting in Dixie, takes place in the small town of Hannah, Alabama.  I told Lexi, “I know that town.  I grew up in that town.”  And by the way, Lexi graduated from the University of Alabama.  For whom do you think the town of Hannah was named?  Growing up in a small town there are so many connections: family, neighbors, church friends, parental friendships and many others that tie us together.  With some of the barriers of youth torn down, our relationships may just grow and blossom in ways we never expected.

            Reunion 2011 began on Saturday, September 3 at 6:45 a.m. when I picked Randy Smith up at his home, directly across from my mother’s home on “post tornado” East Main Street.  We then headed to the Days Inn in Guntersville to pick up LaMon Brown and head to Lake Guntersville State Park for the every fifth year class of ’66 golf tournament.  Thirteen classmates, the girlfriend of a classmate, the husband of a classmate and the son of a classmate gathered to spend the morning in the sunshine, renew old friendships, make new ones, and if the golf gods were kind to us to occasionally make a decent golf shot.  It was a good morning, and just being together we may have made the world a better place to live. 

            Saturday Night the dinner, dance and party began.  The planning committee had kindly (or not) provided name tags graced with our senior pictures. (Why didn’t at least one of you “girls” tell me to let my hair grow out)?  Visiting, touching base, looking back and looking forward, we shared information, we asked about children and jobs and where are you now.  We learned about marriages that had lasted forty-five years and other marriages that ended, some before their time and others long after they should have.  “For better or for worse,” the events of our lives, good and bad have made us who we are and in most cases have made us stronger.  If nothing else the theme I kept hearing and repeating is that we need other people, and that those of us who have known each other for so long need those of us with whom we shared some or all of these experiences.

            As mentioned earlier, forty-two of our classmates have died since our graduation.  Tony Simmons has kept records of who they are, when they died and of what cause.  Charlene Buckelew McCoy took this information and created a wonderful tribute to these people who were and always will be part of our lives.  The beautiful flower arrangement with each of their senior pictures in it brought tears of sadness and joy to my eyes and I suspect I am not the only one.  The chart listing names, date and cause of death for each added important missing information to their stories and to our stories.  Thank you Tony and Charlene.

            Some of closed the evening by dancing until they turned the lights out and made us leave.  Guess we’ve still got it!  Of course, they turned the lights out and made us leave at 9:30 p.m. instead of 2:00 a.m.

            We awoke Sunday morning to clouds and a little drizzle thanks to Tropical Storm Lee.  We slowly gathered at the Pavilion and at Lake Guntersville State Park around 9:30 a.m. for some casual visiting as we prepared for our Class Worship Service and Picnic.  I was privileged to coordinate our worship and I have to say that the most difficult part was getting the Baptist Preachers not to be so nice to each other.  LaMon Brown and Robert Manzy kept trying to give up their time to each other.  “They were just so nice!”  Seriously, it was a thrill to work with Anneva Hard, LaMon Brown, Randy Smith and Robert Manzy.  I am just sad that Robert was not able to be with us.  I truly felt the presence of the Holy Spirit among us and around us as Randy led us in song and LaMon and Anneva shared their powerful stories.  To hear their stories of faith and love and God’s presence brought tears to more than one eye. 

            Worship moved easily into visiting and eating the wonderful picnic provided by Walter Adams, Gloria Adams, Bill Aaron, Cindy Burroughs and others.  People moved easily in and out and from one group to another.  I heard stories I had never heard before about classmates and teachers and activities that were “unreported” except through the “grapevine.”  I Heard things about Mrs. Weathers and Mr. Camp and other teachers which, if you want to hear them, you will have to come to Harriett’s for the Homecoming game pre-party on September 30.  These are the kind of stories that you “had to be there” to appreciate, but I have a pretty good idea that they and others just might be told again sometime real soon.

            Last but not least, Charlene did a “scientific survey” to see who was in Mrs. Gardner’s first grade class.  Charlene, Harriett and I were in there along with Patricia Bethune and Celia Keller Music.  We can continue this game when we gather again in five years, or before.  It is almost like church.  Remember, scripture says that “where two or three are gathered in the Lord’s name, he will be there.”  Well, where two or three are gathered in the name of the Albertville High School Class of 1966, “whose class were you in when” will continue, and Mrs. Weathers and Mr. Camp and Miss Masters and Coach Beasley and Mr. Nixon and many, many others will be there.

            I hope you will add your thoughts and reflections to my reflections.  Remember, all that happens in our lives helps make us who we are, and everyone whose life intersects with our lives changes and shapes us. 

Old friends, Sat on their park bench like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes
of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settle like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends, memory brushes the same years,
Silently sharing the same fears

Time it was, what a time it was

A time of innocence, a time of confidences

Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph

Preserve your memories, their all that’s left you

(“Old Friends,” Simon and Garfunkel)

           

Reverence, The Human Response To Awesome Experiences

Several years ago when I was living in New Orleans, Episcopal Bishop James Brown told a story of his then fifteen year old daughter commenting on a video of a solemn procession around a church in honor of the Mary the mother of Jesus.  The young girl asked her father, the bishop, “why do all of you look so sad.”  To which Bishop Brown replied, “we are not sad, we are being reverent.”  To which the daughter replied, “well, you sure look sad to me.”

I wonder, was the daughter correct?  Have we lost the true meaning of reverence?  Have we forgotten that reverence is our response to the beauty of creation, to the experience of the beauty of holiness, to the blessing of living in a world created out of love by an awesome God, the creator of heaven and earth.  Matthew Fox, author and Episcopal priest believes that “the way of reverence is also the way of responsibility—not a responsibility based on duty and fear of disobedience, but a responsibility based on care for what we cherish and revere.” (The Coming Cosmic Christ, p. 199)

Many of us lose our sense of awe and reverence as we grow older and busier and perhaps even cynical.  If we can reconnect with the child in each of us, with the artist in each of us, we might just be able to reconnect with our ability to express our awe and wonder at existence.  “Reverence will become the test of our moralities: is what I am doing, are the choices we are making, reverential to others—to mother Earth, to generations of humans to come, to the particular individuals with whom I am currently interacting, to our non-two-legged brothers and sisters with whom we share Mother Earth?  Reverence can only grow out of a living cosmology.” (Fox, Ibid, p. 199)

This sense of reverence will bring joy to our hearts and a smile to our faces.  It might even cause us to want to sing and dance and explorer the artistic soul that lives in each and every one of us.  As I write today I am looking out my window at a clear, blue, cloudless sky, the sun shinning off the lake and the leaves moving in the breeze.  It brings a smile to my face.  Is this reverence, I believe it just might be.

The Hebrew Prophet, Joel, writing sometime in the fifth century before Christ, speaks in the name of God: “I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams and your young men shall see visions.  Even on the male and female slaves, in those days, I will pour out my spirit.” (Joel 2:28-29)  Could this be the spirit of reverence God desires for us?  This spirit of reverence may well be what Jesus was thinking about when he told his disciples, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.  Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.  And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.” (Mark 10:14-16)

New Beginnings (Reflections on a New School Year

New Beginnings

The end is never the end, but always in the economy of a God who created us and loves us, the end is a new beginning.  This morning there was actually a touch of fall in the air.  Not a full blown crispness, just a touch.  But that touch was enough to remind me that summer is drawing to a close, that as of today almost all of our children are back in school, from pre-K to college and everything in between.  And, for those of us in the South, we can tell you exactly how many days, hours and minutes it is until our favorite high school or college team hits the gridiron for the first time. 

I have seen so much excitement among the children and teenagers I work with as a priest.  I have seen pictures of the first day of high school taken by the students and their parents, alone and with their best friends.  I have seen pictures of college freshmen, pledging their sorority or fraternity, or joining the college band for the first time.  I have seen pictures of teachers ready for another year of challenge, heartache and joy.  Even though most of us are not going back to school, either to study or to teach, I believe we can share the joy and the excitement of those who are.  If we get too close to them, we too might just be infected with the enthusiasm that will change our lives and maybe even change the world.

I believe that none of us are ever too old to learn and that the day we stop learning is the day we begin to die.  We can learn about life from our friends and on our jobs and in our community involvement.  We can learn about love and joy from the religious community of which we are a part.  I do not use the term religious institution because at our best, we are in fact involved in communities rather than institutions.  We can also learn about awe and wonder, not just from these religious communities, but from the beauty and power of the creation itself. 

Jesus taught that “unless we become like a little child, we will never enter the kingdom of God.  I believe that at least part of what Jesus meant by this is that unless we as adults recapture the joy and wonder of creation and the excitement of finding all things new, that we will miss the excitement of the presence of God in the world and in our lives, even when it is right under our noses.

The writer of the apocalyptic book of Revelation in the Bible, written to give hope to the Christians during the Roman persecutions at the end of the first century AD, assures us that (Jesus) “is making all things new. . . .I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.  To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.  Those who conquer will inherit these things, and I will be their God and they will be my children (Revelation 21:5-7). Think of this wonderful promise every time a school bus slows you down, or when you send your children or grandchildren out the door for the beginning of each new day.  And as we approach each new day of our own lives, I pray that we remember Jesus’ admonition to the adults of his time and take his words as our own words to live by: “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.  Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.  And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them (Mark 10:14b-16).

Blessings to you, in the name of the One who makes all things new.

Ben Alford

The Rev. Ben Alford is a retired Episcopal Priest living in Elmore County. He may be reached at benajr@aol.com

Perplexity: the Season of Spiritual Surviving

Some Reflections on Part III of

Naked Spirituality by Brian McLaren

Perplexity: the Season of Spiritual Surviving

Some reflections on doubts, fears,  and questions which affect many of us on our faith journeys.  Brian McLaren gives us a starting point for what I hope will be an ongoing conversation about these important aspects of faith.

McLaren suggests that in this season (of perplexity), “what matters most to us—more than being right, more than being effective—is being honest, authentic, even brutally so. . . .Life itself is no longer the simple war or the complex game it used to be for us.  On our bad days it’s a joke, on our good days it’s a quest and on most days it’s a bit of both.”(p. 142)

            “We’ve grown beyond being dependent infants who look to their leaders for everything, and beyond being somewhat independent children who boast. ‘I can do it myself!’. . . . We will probably come to doubt (our faith) now and may even abandon it for awhile.  At the very least we will need to add a margin for mystery and unbolt some of the structural elements of our faith that have been until now tightly fitted together.  Our faith becomes less the nest and more the quest at this stage, and mention of God evokes feelings of ambivalence.  It’s a great season for honesty and for digging deeper, but not so great for commitment, energy or enthusiasm.”(p. 142)

The longer we live with our faith and study the scriptures the more likely it is for us to ask questions of others, of our faith organizations and of ourselves.  We want to live with our beliefs or lack of beliefs as they are developing and evolving.  We question others, we question scripture and we question ourselves and what we once believed.  At this point in my faith journey, I want to be honest with others, and mostly with myself, about who I am and what I believe and why this is important to how I live.  For me this was and still is an important part of my life’s journey.  It is not always easy, it never gives simple answers, but when I have experienced faith, it is an exciting and life giving faith.  It is during these times in our lives that McLaren believes we begin to ask the questions of God: When did you leave, where are you, are you coming back, when? (p. 149)

            “Hold your when or how long or where before God.  Make space for your disappointment, frustration, and unfulfillment to come out of hiding and present themselves in the light.  Don’t rush (through these times of) spiritual dryness.  The spirit wants to join you. . . .” (p. 155)

            McLaren entitles Chapter 18: “NO: The Void Expands.”  He heads the chapter with a quote from William Temple, former Archbishop of Canterbury, “If you have a false idea of God, the more religious you are, the worse it is for you—it were better for you to be an atheist.” (p. 157)

            This time of doubt and questioning and ‘wandering in the wilderness,’ can be very difficult for those of us who have had a strong faith in God and want more than anything else to maintain or reclaim that faith.  The struggle is to find a way to believe what we want to believe and still be honest with ourselves.  This can often be a time of “the dark night of the soul,” spoken about by St. John of the Cross.  We know what we had, we know what we want, but we do not know how to get it.  “Perhaps by raging against the failed image of God, it will fall, and behind it the true God will appear, the true God to whom Meister Eckhart prayed, ‘save me from god.’” (p.158)

            “This is why doubters, atheists, and skeptics have an important place in the community of faith.  The acid of their critique flows—even though they may not realize it—from their sadness that a truer, brighter, bigger better God isn’t showing up, but only a second rate imposter god.  And their no is a dual rejection.  First, it is a refusal to accept the second-rate imposter god’s presence, and second, it is a refusal to accept the true and living God’s absence.” (p. 159)

            “. . . .We have kept these questions at bay for months, years, even decades. 

·         Why wouldn’t God have chosen to aid a needy person without my intercession

·         How could God create a world where lovers are separated, little girls raped, mothers send sons off to war to be killed or kill sons of other mothers

·         Where we have to nurse children with severe diseases or parents through years of mental illness or dementia” (p. 159)

When my belief in God was unshakeable, I had a difficult time understanding how a person could doubt or be a skeptic, much less be an atheist.  Now that I have traveled through more than one of my own “dark nights of the soul,” I understand completely.  Several years ago I attended a conference led by Fr. Andrew Greeley.  He was asked “why, with as much proof as there is for God, some people just do not believe.”  Acknowledging the existence of proof for God’s existence, Greeley then said, “the reason some do not believe is that there is just as much proof that that there is no God as there is that God exists.”  I found this extremely helpful for me at the point I was in on my spiritual journey.

“You can’t have faith without doubt.  Give up the business of suppressing doubt.  Doubt and faith are two sides of the same thing.  Faith will grow out of doubt, the real doubt.  We don’t pray right because we evade doubt.”(Thomas Merton)(p. 163)

Our doubts are very real and a very important part of our journey.  Trying to pretend like they do not exist and then acting as if they do not does not change how we feel or how we believe.  I have known ordained ministers who have doubts but do not express them because they believe the colleagues do not doubt.  Interestingly, some of those some colleges have the same doubts but do not dare express them for the same reasons.  Better to be open and honest with yourself and others than to pretend for each other.  It is important that we not condemn each other for our doubts and beliefs, because none of us is able to walk in the other’s shoes.  We are called to be companions on the journey, not judges of “right belief.”

            “I often feel that the deep middle of Job has been betrayed by the addition of a shallow preface and dishonest epilogue.”. . . .Human beings have a right to question the divine, but they cannot expect answers—and that even without answers, faith in God endures (p. 163). . . .Learn to live without answers.”(p. 165) . . . . The voice of the Lord comes not with answers, but with a tornado of questions.”(p. 167)

            Job is the quintessential parable about “why bad things happen to good people.”  It attempts to explain that good life can fall apart for anyone and that the strength of the faith or the orthodoxy of their belief does not affect this.  Job’s friends are stuck in the old way of seeing life and try to bring him back to their reality.  Job knew what kind of life he has led and intends to take it directly to God.  He is allowed to do so and questions God and God answers his questions with questions:  “who are you to question God?  where were you when I made the great leviathan?

            Too many Christians have been afraid to question God or doubt God.  We have been told that God will solve all of our problems and answer all of our questions and when that does not happen, then the first thought most of us have is that something is wrong with us.  If we do not have this thought, than many of us have friends or even preachers  like Job’s friends who are more than happy to let us know that, in fact, something is wrong with us.  Our faith is not simple with easy answers for every occasion.  Our faith is dynamic and evolving and exciting and life giving.  This means we have to live with ambiguity and doubts and fears, but these are the very things that open us up to the mystery and mystical life in relationship with creation, with other human beings, and if we are fortunate, with God.  As Jimmy Buffett says in one of his newer songs, “life is not over, it’s just simply complicated.”  And hopefully this discussion is not over either.  I invite you to become followers and to continue this discussion on this blog.

The Journey continues,

Ben