Monday Morning Music Ministry

3-2-20

Despite being shrouded in religious symbolism and tradition, Lent also is a part of Christianity that largely has no Biblical sanction nor institution. That is to say, the holidays and succession of observances were not established by Jesus, the Disciples, St Paul, nor the churches of the early evangelists.

In fact, there are myriad definitions of Lent, numbers of days of Lent, whether Sundays are counted or not, what constitutes holy fasts, what meats can be eaten, what colors of church vestments and displays should be assigned, what parts of the liturgy should be sung or suppressed, even when Lent ends. As many definitions as there are Catholic and Protestant and Orthodox traditions… and of course different views within Protestantism and Orthodox churches. Denominations like the Mennonite church, for instance, traditionally did not observe Lent at all.

Is the observance of Lent a corruption of Christian teaching? No! It is not even obliquely related to anything pagan, as can be deduced from Christmas, Easter, and other holidays. And Lenten practices are informed by the suffering and death of Jesus; the Passion; the meanings behind the largest aspects of Easter (the atonement) to the smallest (reminders of the significance of every “station” of the cross that Jesus carried to Golgotha).

If Lent is not a corruption of the holy aspects of the period preceding Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem and the horrible events of Holy Week, certain observances of Lent can be corrupt. When people “give up” broccoli, or even chocolate – perhaps things they already hate, or things they might indeed love; you have heard them all – it trivializes the acts of the Savior.

“How can self-sacrifice, or discipline, be bad?” we are asked. “And if we lose weight, or spend time in better ways than going to the movies…” is a sentence that does not need to be finished. Dieting, better use of your free time, less video-gaming, can all be done any time (or all times) during the year.

Jesus Christ did not suffer and die for your chocolates or your video games.

I am going to suggest something in place of sacrificing something for Lent. Since the precise details of Lenten observances are not in the Bible, I might feel secure to propose a different way to recall, even “imitate” (in the view of Thomas à Kempis) Christ’s Passion.

Instead of giving something up for Lent, can we take something up for Lent?

Jesus sacrificed His life, but He also gave us something very real: salvation. He renounced earthly pleasures, but He also gave us a supreme picture of service. He endured rejection, betrayal, and torture – which can remind us of how much He loved us, even while we were yet sinners – yet are we only to dwell on these things… or be inspired to lives of fellowship, reconciliation, and love?

He died… that we may live.

Should we think of taking up things – not only the cross, which after all we are commanded to do – and not merely sacrificing this or that for 40 days?

In the spirit of the Lenten season, and Christ’s Passion of which we are mindful, forget the chocolates and video games, and take up something.

These might be word games, of course: To take up something might be seen as a sacrifice; fine. And, as with New Years resolutions, or Lenten sacrifices, we can also “take up” something all the year ‘round. Also fine! In a sense, the life of faith is to see things, and act, in upside-down manners sometime. We need new perspectives. Do we really belong in a life of the world’s old ways of seeing and doing? We should yearn for a place where dead men live, and rich men give.

Take up charity work. And do it as privately as possible. Share something about Jesus to someone. Especially if you are uncomfortable doing so. Think of someone you have resented, and write a note saying you forgive them. And then… forgive them.

Take up something, not because it’s traditional when the calendar says so. Take up something out of passion – your passion – and not automatically.

TAKE UP something for Lent. For Christ’s sake.

+ + +

Click: I Don’t Belong (The Sojourner’s Song)

2-24-20

We humans – not me, but most of the rest of you – are inventing and innovating to the point where I wonder whether we are near the time when anything we can imagine will be developed, named, and available next week through Amazon Prime. Probably out-of-date the month afterward; but counterfeited by the Chinese next year.

I know that there are new microscopes that can see between the particles that orbit around atoms, those little atoms. And telescopes that can see hundreds of thousands of light-years away from us. All of this bemuses me, because I have questions in the face of such advancements like, Why can’t I see the fine print on my large-screen TV when commercials for medicines and lawyers flash by?

Well, I am not a scientist. Nor am I a theologian, but that doesn’t keep me from thinking about God and the things of God.

In fact, maybe it is a good thing that I am not a theologian, because those God-thinkers sometimes act like they have it all figured out. Since I don’t have it all figured out, I keep thinking about God and the things of God. Which is a good place to be.

Sometimes I feel like I live a little north of hell and a little south of Heaven, like most of us do at present. In the same way, knowing that I live somewhere between atoms and in a galaxy far, far away keeps me in perspective.

Thinking too much, or too hard, about such things can make one’s brain hurt. The real lesson in humankind’s inventions and discoveries is that we learn that there always is more, and more, and more that we don’t know. That is axiomatic, perhaps, but when we contemplate how much we don’t know – that is the beginning of wisdom.

To be tempted to think humankind can be close to solving all the mysteries of atoms and galaxies, is a self-swindling delusion. We might discover whether neutrons taste like vanilla, or whether distant planets have the internet… but can we ever know how many atoms are in, say, a piece of wood? Or how many galaxies there are? – astronomers vaguely estimate “millions,” but, then, each galaxy might have millions of stars and planets in them. And atoms!

But God knows these things.

Are they important facts? I suppose they are, to Him. Knowing the numbers of hairs on our heads, which the Bible imputes, is simple in comparison, hey.

To me, the most amazing aspect of God in a discussion like this is the astonishing variety of His ways. The abundance and assortment of His wonders.

For instance (thanks, scientists, for determining the truth of the following things!) –

There are no two snowflakes alike. Linus thought he captured two, but they melted. No, seriously, no two snowy doppelgangers have ever been found. And – now that those microscopes work so well – they are not all different, but each one is incredible, beautiful, symmetrically constructed. Every last one of the gazillions in every snowstorm.

No two cloud formations are alike. A heavenly display every day!

No field of flowers, even of the same variety, looks like another; nor the way one looked last week, or will look next week. Thank you, God!

No duplicated faces in the world… no smile is the same… every baby’s laugh is different – different every day; different than other babies’.

Let’s go one step further, thinking about the “uncountable” aspects of God. They are, in fact, reflections. Our God is a God of infinite variety. His universe is interesting and beautiful and compelling because He is interesting and beautiful and compelling.

Many are His ways. Uncountable, in fact.

If it were not so He would have told us. The gods and objects of veneration in other religions are statues and carvings and pictures and idols. Our God is of infinite variety because He lives with each of us, every day in every way. He is there every moment we need Him (and, by the way, also when we think we don’t). He came to earth and dwelt among us; He lives in our hearts.

Atoms, galaxies, water-into-wine, are nothing. He could change your life and everything you hold dear. He did it for me; that’s how I know. And the love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell. It goes beyond the highest star, and reaches to the lowest hell.

These facts can make your brain hurt… but can make your heart glow.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isaiah 55:8,9).

+ + +

Click: The Love of God

2-18-17

Many events, even minor ones, can inaugurate profound changes in our lives. How often do you play the mental game of What If? If you hadn’t joined that one group… If you hadn’t gone on that date where you met your eventual spouse? If you had decided against taking that job…?

When it comes to our faith life, each of us has a different story or stories.

All believers have a story, and sometimes many more than one, about our “walk” with the Lord. I ask these questions, and answer these questions, of myself, all the time. What were the wellsprings of my Christian faith?

Prayer? We prayed at home, every meal, when I was growing up.

“Explaining” Jesus? My mom would always answer the myriad of questions kids always ask, in the context of Jesus, His teachings, and what she thought He would say. If the theology was not always precise, she taught me to seek Him first in every way.

Teaching? I remember, at about age four, my Sunday School teacher, Mabel Schwartz. At Covenant Lutheran in Ridgewood, Queens, she communicated Jesus, also as Vacation Bible School leader, and she gave me my first Bible, with her name in it. I still have it and use it.

Hymn? My favorite Gospel song has always been “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.” Also the first I remember hearing. In the same way, my favorite “church hymn” was always “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” Both still bring tears to my eyes, as much from the essential memories as the words.

Faithful Perseverance? I was conscious of moral commitment, a heartfelt pledge when it came home to me that my Godmother, Aunt Mildred, prayed for me, even through my skepticism and rebelliousness. God honors such prayers… or, rather, He answers such prayers. And He makes sure that we are conscious of the effective prayers of righteous people.

… and so on. I invite you to ask the same questions of yourself. If you are a fervent Christian, it will be good to remember the great cloud of witnesses who cheered your faith as it grew. Be grateful to those who cared, and maybe even sacrificed (including prayer and praise time) for you. Let your thoughts dwell on the people, the churches, the fellowships in your past – and think where you might be today if those encounters never happened.

Think back, too, and remember when you were a “new Christian,” and how often you prayed, how hungry you were for the Word of God, how exciting was faith in the Lord. Has time dulled those emotions? How long has it been?

And if you are reading this and are not a committed Christian, there are memories you can summon of someone – a friend, a tract, a sermon overheard on radio or TV – who shared the Good News of Jesus. Maybe you were curious for a moment; maybe you studied some, or read things afterward; maybe you still wonder what this Jesus thing is all about. Even those memories still live.

First encounters are never snippets of time that will die. They are all planted seeds, no matter when you first heard them, or from whom. Recently some seeds from Egyptian mummies’ tombs were planted, watered, and… have grown into plants. A mere interregnum of 4000 years.

Similarly, our memories can sprout. Our little lifetimes are nothing in comparison. How long has it been?

Let us all to cultivate the memories of when Jesus and His salvation were new stories to us. When our faith was fresh. When the Gospel message moved us in powerful ways.

And then, go forth and be your own Mabel Schwartzes and Aunt Mildreds. Plant this seeds!

Someone did that over your life, once upon a time.

+ + +

Click: How Long Has It Been?

2-10-20

Orson Bean died this weekend, killed in a “pedestrian accident” in Venice CA, hit by one car and run over by another. A ubiquitous presence on TV game shows and talk shows since the 1950s, he was, I remember, my grandmother’s favorite comedian – and mine, and millions of others.

He was 91, so he had a long career, but of the most unconventional arc: stand-up comedy; live theater; motion pictures; TV series; community playhouses. He was a polymath – serious actor, too; author; raconteur. His movies included Anatomy of a Murder and Being John Malkovich. Stage: Never Too Late and Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? TV: hundreds of appearances on The Tonight Show (a hundred as guest host for Johnny Carson), I’ve Got a Secret, What’s My Line, and To Tell The Truth, also The Twilight Zone, Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, Desperate Housewives, Two and a Half Men, Modern Family, and How I Met Your Mother. Recordings: Charlie Brown in You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown and Bilbo and Frodo Baggins in the 1977 and 1980 animated adaptations of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit. Books: M@il for Mikey. My contact came through his role as a founder of Sons of the Desert, the Laurel and Hardy appreciation society, whose other founders were friends.

He met his third wife, Wonder Years actress Alley Mills, who played his love interest on Dr. Quinn. Mills, 23 years his junior, and a former Buddhist and devout Christian, married him in 1993.

Orson’s was an exceptional talent, taking him, and his fans, along a wildly unorthodox career. A Communist girlfriend got him blacklisted for a while. And when he turned conservative, he then was blacklisted by Hollywood leftists. The comparisons with his noted son-in-law Andrew Breitbart, the gonzo conservative, are eerie: both converts to conservatism, both died on streets – Andrew while walking his dog, it was reported, one night in 2012. Orson once said, “It’s harder now to be an open conservative on a Hollywood set than it was back then to be a Communist.”

But Orson Bean had another conversion. From a blacklisted actor to a familiar face; from obsessions with sex, alcohol, and drugs to being “clean”; from a trendy skeptic to a born-again Christian. His is a great story, one he recounted in the extremely engaging book, M@il for Mikey.

Even his Christian-conversion story was not “normal.” We hear many converts say that they developed an “emptiness within,” or created a “void” in their souls by their bad choices. Orson had a very different, and very unique, variation. Blue-ribbon theology, really, from this vaunted wit. From a column he wrote called “An Emptiness Only the Holy Spirit Can Fill” (for one of the Breitbart sites!) he posited:

[When people have used up the temporary highs of sex and drugs and booze and fame and wealth,] they’re still left with a hole in the middle of them that the Creator stuck there, knowing that eventually they’d feel the urge to fill it and do what they had to do to seek Him out.”

In other words, God PUTS this void, this longing, this emptiness, in us all… so that we will seek Him.

One of Orson Bean’s revelations came through reading C S Lewis’ Mere Christianity. Another astounding exegetical book of the 20th century is John Stott’s Basic Christianity, a similar book of intellectual blessing, where he wrote, Every Christian should be both conservative and radical; conservative in preserving the faith, and radical in applying it.

So was Jesus. Conservative and radical. And passionate enough to stick it to evil and sin and death, virtually climbing up on the dirty cross and die for us. Orson Bean was careful to specify Jesus Himself, as the answer to the “hole in the middle of us all.” Not works or mystical gods or “being spiritual,” but Jesus. Oh, this rotten world: Jesus became such an important part of Orson Bean – a “hole” that was filled in his life – yet very few newspaper stories about his death mentioned that.

Orson Bean’s life should be an inspiration about self-awareness and using God’s gifts. Among those gifts – or tools; weapons – can be humor. It’s “funny,” when all is said and done, how we can deliver, and embody, “serious” truths. Being a follower of Christ, and passionate about every serious part of salvation, does not preclude humor as a mode, or a way of life.

Being a follower of Jesus is supposed to be fun, after all; and it is fun. We will smile every minute of eternity when we enter Heaven’s portals. And I hope Orson Bean will be one of the first smiling faces I see there.

+ + +

Click: Coming Home

2-3-20

We tend to think that our times are special, I have noticed: our moments in the long timeline of history; or events in our lives. A natural attitude, not really selfish. We just see most things through the perspective of… our selves. I am trained as a historian, yet I realize that, while not impossible, it is difficult to be separate from our ancestry, our cultural heritage, our environments.

In historical matters, it is wise to remember how many things are not new – Solomon told us, correctly, that there is nothing new under the sun. In spiritual terms, of course, human nature does not change. There has been sin, there is sin, there will be sin. Short of salvation, which frees us from the eternal consequences of sin, that will not change either. A big step forward would be humankind’s recognition of that fact so that we at least might alleviate the misery of life around the edges.

In personal terms, 21st-century people tend to think they are the first generation to discover compassion and curiosity, rights and reform. Yet – especially regarding the bloody century we barely escaped – “rights” are proving malleable, and compassion often is weaponized and selective. In the balance, has “progress” been more a matter of calendar pages than substantial improvements in our lot?

Answers to these questions are debating-points. I don’t think there are definitive answers. Nor should be: let us keep questioning.

In very personal terms, thinking about where “times are special” or unique, I have observed lately that we pass some sort of milestone in life when our thoughts of the past start outnumbering thoughts of the future. Not something that happens on every birthday, but, well, eventually. Again speaking in spiritual context, I am assured of my future home, and trying to realize that my experience is not at all special – but part of the Bible’s “scarlet thread.”

I imply, without being certain, but am more and more persuaded, that humankind’s life is not better, and not worse, considering the sweep of history. All things considered, we generally are in about the same situations as earlier generations, and other civilizations. Medical advances are blessings, but we devise better ways to destroy life (and give those destructive innovations acceptable names). Societies grow more prosperous, but foster crime, misery, divorce, addictions, abuse. Wars were fought to end slavery… but there are more literal slaves on earth now than ever before. Nations are “free,” but totalitarians and corrupt cabals proliferate. We might be kinder to animals, but we are crueler to unborn babies. And so forth.

So far, I say, in the game of life – again, except for the game-changing fact and factor of Jesus – the balance-scales have not changed much through history.

Lately, I have met two people whose fiancees died. It is hard to imagine a crueler time to suffer such a loss (other than… well, you know). Seriously, in the bloom of a relationship, planning for unknown and exciting things… oof. How awful.

My wife had been sick for years, so – as the cliches go – it was merciful and expected when she died. At the end of my mother’s life she was sick and bounced back a couple times. Then she was listed in hospice, and lived another year. Each time I traveled to Florida to say good-bye. I was grateful for her “bonus time,” of course, but I do remember running into one of her neighbors. Sympathetically, she said, “It must be hard to lose your mother…” Almost unconsciously, I replied: “It’s almost impossible.”

But in some situations when we are “left” alone, or to pick up pieces, I think it takes a superhuman strength – or a Holy Spirit enablement, the only way I know – to move on.

The best example I think of is that of the singer Eva Cassidy. She lived in the Washington DC area all her life. She loved to sing and play the guitar. As an amateur she hung around Blues Alley, a little club in DC, and she sang. She met other aspiring musicians and got noticed locally, and then by scouts. Nobody did not love Eva Cassidy, but there was a little bump in the upward road when frustrated record people could not classify her.

Neither could she classify herself. Eva loved all kinds of music, and sang them: folk, country, pop, gospel. She just kept on singing, recording two albums and being recorded, occasionally, by friends on video cams (this was the early 1990s). Then, strange back pains revealed bone cancers, also melanoma spreading quickly. Before people knew it, Eva Cassidy died at the age of 33.

A couple years later one of her songs was played on a London radio program. Yes, an “overnight sensation.” Her few songs have seldom left the charts; her albums have been mastered and re-mastered; she is a major star through recordings in many countries; and American critics have said she had one of the great voices in American music. Her version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” is amazing.

A video is attached here, and I return to my subject. As tough as it is for others to deal with death, the emotional dynamic always has been the same. Unique, wherever and whenever, and whoever. Harder – of course, and I am not joking – when it is ourselves, and we know death approaches.

Superhuman coping, I have said. When death was close, Eva performed at Blues Alley. With no tears, she sang a song she hoped was someone’s favorite, and she sang it beautifully – “What a Wonderful World.”

What a Wonderful World??? Was Eva’s world wonderful? She was in pain, dying, and she knew it. Was she nuts? No… she was blessed. She trusted God, and somehow… Well, hers were probably the only dry eyes in the room. Watch the clip.

Are our lives special? I would say that’s up to us… and to God, for when He sees Jesus in us, He does regard us as special. In the meantime, in this vale [valley] of tears, we remember that “life is real, life is earnest,” as the poet said.

There is a time to cry, a time to weep. It can be hard, but there is a time to smile, a time to laugh.

And, yes, there is a time to sing. And that is special.

+ + +

Click: What a Wonderful World