Monday Morning Music Ministry

10-11-21

One of the most familiar and quoted American poems of the Twentieth Century – after advertising jingles – is Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both / And be one traveler, long I stood / And looked down one as far as I could / To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there / Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay / In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh / Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

Frost’s poem, at least the first and last phrases, frequently are quoted. And it often is misidentified as “The Road Less Traveled,” which title lends an air of misty fatalism instead of melancholic speculation… or a dozen other meanings. Not that Frost intentionally invited more analysis than depicting an everyday happenstance common to humanity. But one scholar, Dr David Orr, wrote a whole book deconstructing the poem. At the other end of the spectrum (and not likely addressing Frost) Dr Yogi Berra stated his unique view: “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

I have been thinking about Frost’s ubiquitous imagery and symbolism (for surely he intended to evoke larger contexts). In our contemporary world, especially in America, there is so much argumentation and accusations and anger that an observer might assume that neat and clear Divisions reign amongst us; that there are two camps continuously at loggerheads. Friends or enemies, black and white, right or wrong.

Yet society’s divisions are not bifurcations – not dealing with “two sides to every story.” In practice these days, many issues are rhetorical reticulations: multi-faceted, as discernible as little cracks in a windshield, as easy to trace as strands of cotton candy. To return to our analogy, roads in a yellow wood that are overgrown by tangled brambles and vines. Most “debates” I hear these days are subsumed by ferocious tangents.

I try to keep Christ’s example as my lodestar; not to be judgmental, but for discernment, or to learn new viewpoints, or perhaps have an opportunity to witness. Even, or especially, when non-spiritual questions arise. It’s not always easy. A friend this week asked my opinion about whether to attend the funeral of an estranged in-law. Two roads diverge? Ask Yogi Berra. Not all questions are right or wrong from a Christian perspective. We can try to apply that perspective, however.

More seriously, a dilemma was shared with me recently. A friend who is an airline pilot and opposed to the Vaccine is threatened with dismissal and all that would portend, if he does not submit. This is more than a question of conscience: it is a question of livelihood. Athletes on charter flights take off masks in the terminal, and on the field, as do tens of thousands of spectators. Their jobs are not threatened. Two roads diverge in a yellow wood.

His is not necessarily a Christian dilemma, although proponents of the two alternatives might make cases. America has gotten to the point where people argue about a thousand little things, then torture themselves over two clear choices. I have many friends, from congenital skeptics to my own doctor, who vehemently oppose the Vaccine. The System is forcing us to make excruciating choices despite ourselves. And we are threatened.

Some choices we make willingly or with insouciance, even on matters recently regarded as grave. Another friend whom I have admired, and assisted, on public issues we zealously pursued, just abandoned them because they “have not gained traction”… with hardly a test of traction. I cannot criticize those choices, when a hundred factors might be at play. People are choosing, in political matters, whether to compromise or resist. Increasingly, we come to roads diverging on our pathways that once seemed straight and clear.

It is not only COVID but dozens of issues. Local school board meetings have become battlegrounds, and our own government is calling concerned parents “terrorists.” The internet should be allowed to censor and spy? We are to be under suspicion for having more than $600 in bank accounts? Can we call politicians murderers when they want to allow babies to be killed? Oh, that’s hate speech… but all we’re doing is trying to love babies.

The Lord knows I do not condemn my friends with whose choices I disagree. I have made tough decisions, and probably am making some wrong decisions right now. That is one reason God instituted prayer; and a reason that we have friends, and cherish friendships. Let us be charitable and generous to each other in these awful times.

But for Christ’s sake, literally, let us think and pray when we come to moral forks in the road.

Do you remember that old saying about not understanding someone unless we can walk a mile in their shoes? We should imagine others’ choices, not only our own, when the roads of life diverge before us.

And maybe, more often than we are used to, we can walk down those roads together.

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Click: When I Get To The End Of The Way

1-25-21

Where do we go from here?

This is a question many Christians are asking about current events, at the time of this writing; and very roughly calculated, about half the American population wonders the same. In fact the question is pertinent after many elections, momentous events, and ends of wars.

The “ends” of elections and events and wars often settle matters in a strict sense, but in a broader sense usually bring about new questions and challenges. Therefore members of the winning side may just as earnestly ask Where we go from here; just as aimlessly or with similar uncertainty.

We often fool ourselves about matters of finality, most often because we yearn for finality. Wishing, of course, does not make things so. Fate does not wait upon our polling; God’s will is exercised without regard to our opinions. An example is the meaning many people ascribe to “commencement exercises” – as to mean “OK! That’s over!” Patient families, and parents paying tuition bills, might see it as that. But “commencement” means “beginning,” not wrapping up. So the wheel turns.

And so it is with elections. Campaigning ends; perhaps officeholders change desks; and often a new agenda is advanced. On paper, that’s “where we go from here.” But the larger matter, especially now, is where a group of followers goes. Where is a movement headed? Do believers casually adjust their firmly held beliefs? Should they?

My context, of course, is the recent election. And my honest concern is the status and direction of those Christians who experience a deep moral dilemma about the results and the implication of the results. I am one of these.

As a student of history I am reminded, often in spite of myself, that very little is new; that crises are not as bad as they seem; that a long-range perspective commands our attention. “Nothing new under the sun,” Solomon wrote. Yet logic dictates (and, yes, history too) that sometimes things are as bad as they seem. Sometimes… worse. Being accepting, or phlegmatic, can have negative consequence, from self-delusion to social disaster.

Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train. Sometimes, contra Dr Pangloss, this is not the best of all worlds. Sometimes compromise is not the best solution – when, at times, compromise leads to more division and turmoil, counter-intuitively, than “peace.” And peace is not synonymous with righteousness.

“Can’t we all just get along?”

No, we can’t.

Rodney King’s lament spoke for a time in America, and struck a chord. Now we voice a lament for a generation; at an earlier time we faced choices about freedom vs Communism. Today the questions are asked of us about the basic assumptions and commitments of American society and Western civilization. This is not a crisis of flavors of the month.

By many standards we are no longer a Christian culture. “Post-Christian” is not a construct to be regarded abstractly, even against cultural shifts as consequential as Medievalism to the Renaissance, or Neoclassicism to the Romantic Era. It is the result of the seductive slide from Modernism to Post-Modernism to whatever our current state of intellectual and moral anarchy ought to be called. The West, and much of the world, has been moored and sustained by the tenets of Biblical morality and, especially, Christianity, for millennia.

Disruption was always threatened, and the defense of morals, ethics, law, art, and liberty not only resisted corruption but strengthened the ethos. Heresies, however, morphed into political poisons like Socialism and Communism. Doubt begat regression and relativism. Self-indulgence – as promised by history’s inexorable cycles – brings self-destruction.

The nexus might be in these very days, the cultural equivalent of particle acceleration. Portions of society have been shedding traditional morality; capitalism has given way to the welfare mentality; things as basic as a person’s sex and a family’s security are not just questioned but demonized. People call wrong right, and right wrong… as the Bible predicted.

We know we are at a rare moment in history when this cultural rot subsists not in isolated pockets of society, but in the platform, promises, and practices of a major political party (or, eventually, both of them). And dissenters who once were stewards of universal values are lectured about “unity” – which means uniformity. Once again, by history’s example, lecturing quickly becomes coercion, then repression, then oppression. We already hear calls from the victors for “re-education centers” for those needing to be punished for having ideals and beliefs.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, we are told in Romans 12:2.

Every word is important: “Pattern” reminds us that the evil that men do right now is not random, and is roaming about seeking whom to devour. The devil has a plan as surely as God does. And “conform any longer” illuminates what has happened to us, but encourages us to recognize the freedom we have to break that bondage of darkness and sin.

The next part of the verse makes sure we are not left wanting in this admonition: But be transformed by the renewing of your mind.

This is our “Get out of jail free” card. In Christ we are new creations. We can render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s… but those things do not include our souls.

Where do we go from here? We stop conforming – to the cultural rot all around us. We defend our faith, our families, our future – they are in the balance. We commit to deflect the slings and arrows – putting on the whole armor of God – and realize that our mortal enemies might be in our very neighborhoods and favorite entertainments.

Do not conform, but be transformed. Reject the pattern of this world; renew your mind! And test the spirits of “unity” – unify with abortionists, idolaters, and secularists? God forbid!

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Click: Have Mercy, O God, For My Tears’ Sake