Thanksgiving 2011

The poet, Mary Oliver, has written a "Prayer" in the form of a poem:

May I never not be frisky,
May I never not be risque.

May my ashes, when you have them, friend,
and give them to the ocean,

leap in the froth of the waves,
still loving movement,

still ready, beyond all else,
to dance for the world.

How to express thanks on this day?  Last night's concert was one way that has become dear to my heart.  There were little girls dancing in the church.  Think about that:  little girls - the essence of the feminine - dancing - moving their bodies with innocent abandon - in church - a place that is all too often anti-feminine, anti-body and certainly uncomfortable with movement. (Old joke:  why do Baptists never make love standing up?  It looks too much like dancing!)  Little boys were playing instruments with old men. People were shouting and singing - clapping and praying, too - because this was a musical feast grounded in grace and beauty.

And at times, it felt almost magical. Everyone felt it - well, maybe not everyone because the show DID go on for two and a half hours - but almost everyone felt it and stayed around to the joyful conclusion. I know they felt it because not only did we raise more than $2000 for emergency fuel assistance (twice our goal) but people didn't want to leave.  Afterwards they hung out and talked and laughed and just went deeper into the groove. 

There was a palpable spirit of compassionate cooperation in the air and when it took shape in improvisation, the jazz guys - who are masters in their field - connected with the rockers and folkies and lifted ALL our souls into a higher place. The vocalists did the same thing as time and again they jumped into songs they'd never heard before with harmonies that were inspired. As one old timer said to me, "You can't tell me there isn't a love and power greater than ourselves after tonight because... I felt it!" 

We closed the show with all the singers and musicians singing couplets from both the Band's "The Weight" and Jim Boyd's "Million Miles Away."  That was so moving - and afterwards people said to me that hearing how each person interpreted their two lines - and then blended them into the whole - was soul food. I felt much the same way over and over.

For 30 years I have been doing these gigs - and this one was total grace.  (The other remains our post-Katrina benefit in Tucson - and I heard from some of that band last night, too via FaceBook!) Most of the time, in years past, I have gotten too tense about these gigs so that while I loved the final experience, they exhausted me.  And I sometimes became sharp around the edges. I remember one of the first shows in Michigan when I almost decked a guest singer. True, he was a total asshole with no social skills, but then so was I... and I was the band leader!  It was almost like being back in high school when I didn't know what to do with my "big" feelings that were all in competition with my other big feelings. (In fact, I once did deck two of my best friends back in the day. And while there was tons of "boy" energy flowing, there was also way too much tension inside me, too.)

Anyhow, these Thanksgiving gigs have sometimes evoked those old demons and fears where I emphasized the"performance" aspect too much and not trusted the practice and God's presence enough.  But when we came here I vowed that those old ways had to be put away - they may have once been useful, but now no longer served any good purpose - and as a sign and symbol of my repentance, I took off my watch and put it away.  I need to rest and trust the Lord rather than the clock and all it represents.

Trust - and rest - (and feasting and grace) have shaped these later days of ministry - and I am thankful for their presence in my life. Those two commitments were abundantly clear in last night's show.  We worked hard - a good 6 weeks of practice - but by show time the WHOLE group had never once played together.  And still it all came together seamlessly - even the few minor glitches turned into times for grace - so that we were all blessed.  And I mean that word - blessed - a word with origins in marking a place with blood to honor its sacredness.  We gave our time and effort for the greater good - our blood - and trusted that God would do the rest.  Bless eventually borrowed another meaning from the Old English, "bliss," and that was present, too: sharing and pronouncing a deep joy.

I am thankful that I have been given the grace - and the time - to grow deeper in trust and rest. Mary Oliver wrote another poem, "Hallelujah" that speaks to my new experience with our Thanksgiving shows - and our practice of this feast day - like this:

Everyone should be born into this world happy
   and loving everything.
But in truth it rarely works that way.
For myself, I have spent life clamoring toward it.
Hallelujah, anyway I'm not where I started!

And have you too been trudging like that, sometimes
   almost forgetting how wondrous the world is
   and how miraculously kind some people can be?
And have you too decided that probably nothing important
   is ever easy?
Not, say, for the first sixty years?

Hallelujah, I'm sixty now, and even a little more,
and some days I feel I have wings.

Today, we're sitting around in our PJs, sipping tea, reading the NYTimes, napping and cooking a slow, quiet feast. It is a time filled with gratitude.

I am sooooo blessed...

I don't know if you can dig this but we had 23 musicians - and a poet - on stage tonight in the most eclectic, wild, harmonious and sacred event we've ever done on Thanksgiving Eve. There were novice singers holding their own with seasoned professionals, rock and rollers mixing it up with jazz and folkies, too.  It made me think of Springsteen's reworking of "This Train" when he wrote "Land of Hope and Dreams" for the reunion tour:

This Train...
Carries saints and sinners
This Train...
Carries losers and winners
This Train...
Carries whores and gamblers
This Train...
Carries lost souls
This Train...
This Train...
Carries broken-hearted
This Train...
Thieves and sweet souls departed
This Train...
Carries fools and kings
This Train...
All aboardThis train...
Dreams will not be thwarted
This Train...
Faith will be rewarded
This Train...
Hear the steel wheels singin'
This Train...
Bells of freedom ringin'

We did Tom Waits and Wailin' Jennys - Miles Davis and Edwin Hawkins Singers - the Band, Bob Dylan, Over the Rhine, Mary Chapin Carpenter, hymns of praise, soul, gospel and rock and roll:  Twist and Shout, Money, original compositions by Bert Marshall, Linda Worster, Hal Lefferts and Grahm Sturz and some GREAT jazz improvisation, too.

WHAT'S MORE... we tripled our attendance and raised over $2000 for emergency fuel assistance in the Berkshires.  I am soooooo blessed to know and work with these musicians:


+ Charlie Tokarz
+ Rob Fisch
+ Andy Kelly
+ Linda Worster
+ Bert Marshall
+ Grahm Sturz
+ Hal Lefferts
+ Brian Staubach
+ Carlton Maaia II
+ Rebecca Leigh
+ Dianne De Mott
+ Eva Peri
+ Sue Noyes
+ David McDermott
+ Jon Grenoble
+ Dick Noble
+ Renee Moretti
+ Carol Killian
+ Ben Garver
+ Zak Bernardo
+ Ethan Wesley
+ Steve Perry
+ Sue Kelly
+ Rob Dumais

It was a blessed night:  there was beauty, there was creativity, there was solidarity and there was tons of joy.  One man said to me afterwards, "I have never really experienced what happens during an improvisation. But sitting there (he was singing in our gospel choir) you can't tell me there isn't a love present in the world that is bigger, more compassionate and creative than we are... because I experienced it!"  I did, too and I am soooooo blessed.

Rolling Thunder Review meets Pittsfield...

Just got this picture in from a buddy who was at practice last night... made me think of Dylan's "Rolling Thunder Review" from 1975.  The whole point of that escapade was to reclaim the soul of the Beat's, bring together some top notch musicians and model joy and abandon throughout America.  They began by making pilgrimage to the grave of Jack Kerouac just down the road in Lowell, MA.

Like is beloved friend, Allen Ginsberg, once said: I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn, looking for an angry fix... One of the reasons we put on this show each year is to offer an alternative - a parable of hope - because the best minds of our generation are still going mad and feeding the madness.  Another neighbor down the road in the other direction, Arlo Guthrie, posted this earlier today:

I am not at all discouraged or angry with the politicians and authorities who have shown contempt and disrespect for our young people out there. I feel sorry for them. They are self-made slaves to the great whore of our times - the idea that government is best when it serves those with the most. It should come as no surprise that those bowing and groveling at the feet of privatization - social security, medicare, roads, schools and everything else, should desire that government be privatized. The idea that congressmen and women, judges and elected officials on federal, state and local levels work best when bought and paid for by those who can afford to do so is at the heart of the matter. All the other issues before us, as a nation and a world, arise from this disgusting and anti-American core value.

So I urge everyone, here and abroad to show respect and gratitude to these nameless young people. Talk about them in the coffee shops and luncheonettes with friends and neighbors. They are the heroes of a new generation. They will be vilified and slandered by those who have the most to lose. But, their courage and conviction is exactly right and appropriate. They need all the support they can get as they push us forward as a civilization toward a more perfect union. And they will succeed. Slowly and inevitably they will push us into the light of a better world. The signs are all around us. There is a great hope and a wonderful dream shared by countless generations of good people inching forward through history. It will burst like a dam upon those who try to hold it back. Resistance is indeed, futile.

I'm with Ginsberg - and Dylan - and Kerouac and Guthrie and the Occup Wall Street kids: this is a time of great hope and great potential.  We're going to do our part and encourage folk to "come on up to the house."  How about you?
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Sitting in silence until it silence us...

Fr. Richard Rohr often helps me put life - and stress - into focus. Today he put it like this:

St.  Francis passed on to us many prayers of praise. He went through his life  finding new things for which to praise God at every turn: the little things,  nature, the creatures, suffering, his brothers—for whatever is happening, he  praises God.

Francis  is never trying to earn God's love; he is celebrating it! He continually enjoys  God's love in everything he sees and experiences. Mature prayer always breaks  into gratitude and praise.

Prayer  is sitting in the silence until it silences us, choosing gratitude until we are  grateful, praising God until we ourselves are a constant act of praise.

Lord, that I might sit until the silence IS me.  I know I got a little anxious last night trying to "herd" 20+ very talented musicians through one final rehearsal.  It took longer to get ALL our equipment running, too - always a hassle - and a few key players couldn't be present.  But after an initial sense of being overwhelmed, I was mostly able to chill and ride on the beautiful music.  But it was a very conscious commitment - not a state of being - but a deliberate act, yes?  And while there are a few minor glitches to unravel today, I'm opting for his second insight - choosing gratitude until we are grateful - for whatever the Spirit brings.

I like the way another friend of mine recently put it:  we should talk less of being "spiritual" because what we really mean is being faithful.  Trusting that God is God and we're not, trusting that when we do our part, the Spirit joyfully knits our parts together with other parts for the glory of God.  Left to myself, my feelings and limitations can cloud out the presence of the Spirit.  But resting in God's love, I can be faithful and "know" that in all things God works good with those who love and serve the Lord.

Like the poet, Marvn Bell, wrote:

We need some pines to assuage the darkness
when it blankets the mind,
we need a silvery stream that banks as smoothly
as a plane's wing, and a worn bed of
needles to pad the rumble that fills the mind,
and a blur or two of a wild thing
that sees and is not seen. We need these things
between appointments, after work,
and, if we keep them, then someone someday,
lying down after a walk
and supper, with the fire hole wet down,
the whole night sky set at a particular
time, without numbers or hours, will cause
a little sound of thanks--a zipper or a snap--
to close round the moment and the thought
of whatever good we did.

Ok, onward to Thanksgiving Eve 2011:  come on up to the house!

A little "occupy" on Thanksgiving Eve in Pittsfield...

Tonight we worked HARD to whip our TGE show into shape.  We're getting there and the gig will be sweet and spirit-filled. I am so grateful to each of the musicians and poets sharing their gifts so that we might express gratitude and compassion for our neighbors in need this Thanksgiving.  We'll begin with "One Voice" and transition into "Come on Up to the House." Together both songs express the heart of this event.  Our opening prayer cuts to the chase, too:

O God, when I have food,
help me to remember the hungry;
When I have work,
help me to remember the jobless;
When I have a home,
help me to remember those who have no home at all;
When I am without pain,
help me to remember those who suffer,
And remembering,
help me to destroy my complacency;
bestir my compassion,
and be concerned enough to help;
By word and deed,
those who cry out for what we take for granted.
Amen.

I saw a cartoon earlier today that touched my heart - it shows what I hope our concert expresses - because I think of this event as our own very modest "occupy" rally.  The time is well past due when a commitment to the common good is in order.  I was very moved by this poem and will share it as part of the gig:

Skin remembers how long the years grow

when skin is not touched, a gray tunnel

of singleness, feather lost from the tail
of a bird, swirling onto a step,
swept away by someone who never saw
it was a feather. Skin ate, walked,
slept by itself, knew how to raise a
see-you-later hand. But skin felt
it was never seen, never known as
a land on the map, nose like a city,
hip like a city, gleaming dome of the mosque
and the hundred corridors of cinnamon and rope.

Skin had hope, that's what skin does.

Heals over the scarred place, makes a road.
Love means you breathe in two countries.
And skin remembers--silk, spiny grass,
deep in the pocket that is skin's secret own.
Even now, when skin is not alone,
it remembers being alone and thanks something larger
that there are travelers, that people go places
larger than themselves.

Lots to be thankful for...

What a treat to wake up this morning to find our Thanksgiving Eve benefit concert on the front page of the Berkshire Eagle.  (NOTE:  please know that an audio of our practicing "O Happy Day" is part of this clip. Rebecca is incredible!)

Musicians to heat up Thanksgiving Eve night

 

Tuesday November 22, 2011

PITTSFIELD -- Folk, jazz, blues, gospel, and show tunes. Even a smattering of Tom Waits.

It's a musical potpourri that takes place on Wednesday night when Congregational United Church of Christ hosts its fourth annual Thanksgiving Eve Festival of American Music and Poetry. The event begins at 7:30 p.m. in the church sanctuary on East Street. The event is open to the public and free of charge, but patrons will be asked to contribute donations.

"It's going to be very eclectic," said the church's pastor, the Rev. James Lumsden. "It's all over the map."

The church expanded this year's event in order to raise additional funds for the Pittsfield Area Council of Congregations Emergency Fuel Assistance Fund, which serves as the last resource for people who need heating oil in the winter. The Council of Congregations, Berkshire County's oldest ecumenical organization, is an interfaith community committed to service and compassion.

At the first Festival of American Music and Poetry, the church held a small in-house musical event that raised $300 to $400 for the fuel assistance fund. Last year's event raised about

$800, and Lumsden said he's hoping to raise $1,000 or more this time. "I want to raise at least a grand," he said. "We should be able to do that. This fund helps about a hundred families a year. Some people just run out of reserves."

Lumsden said more than 20 musicians have signed up to play. Around 10 musicians took part in last year's event. Word of mouth and the presence of locally well-known jazz musician Carlton Maaia II as the church's musicial director led to the increase. "This year we took a gargantuan leap with more musicians," Lumsden said. "People heard we were doing it and said can we be a part of this."

The tentative playlist also includes group songs, poems and readings. All of the musicians are expected to sing and play on the chorus to the lone Tom Waits' number, "Come On Up to the House." The song contains the lines, "come down off the cross, we could use the wood." "A very acoustic raucous sort of barroom expression of theology, if you will," Lumsden said.

A version of the Buffalo Springfield classic song "For What It's Worth" will also be performed. "I've been watching all the occupy stuff," Lumsden said, referring to the Occupy Wall Street movement. "It's so timely."

 

Among the musicians scheduled to participate, are local jazz artists Andy Kelly and Charlie Tokarz, Pittsfield-based gospel and rhythm and blues singer Rebecca Leigh, and local folk musicians Graham Sturz of Lee, Linda Worster and Bert Marshall. Singer/songwriter Hal Lefferts of Salisbury, Conn., who played in the same high school band as Lumsden, is also scheduled to be in attendance. "I found him on Facebook," Lumsden said.

Also you might want to check out the lengthy article The Christian Century did in which First Church was featured @ http://christiancentury.org/article/2011-11/new-harmonies

I have been blessed to do ministry with this crew - musicians, laity, staff and friends - and this year there is a LOT to be thankful for.  Come on up to the house if you are in town Wednesday and help us out!

A few golden oldies...

Recently I've been visiting the "Fillmore Archives" on Facebook:  it is a collection of pictures and notes about Bill Graham's experiment in live music in NYC and SF between 1967-1971. I remember the Fillmore East as a place of great revelation for me so I've been inspired to see if there are any Youtube clips from bands I saw in concert.  Well, yes and no...

The first is a jazz-rock band I LOVED called Sweetwater:  they never made it big but put on a helluva show at the Fillmore.  This clip, from their first album, is their take on "Motherless Child."

The next hails from the Who's debut of "Tommy" in the USA - OMG what a show in October of 1969 - it was so hot that we went back again a week later.  What I remember is that the building next store to the Fillmore caught fire - but the Who wouldn't quit playing - and when a police man tried to get them off the stage Townsend went nuts.  He was arrested and the show came to a screeching halt.  No wonder we went back!

This guy, David Rea, opened for Leslie West and Felix Pappalardi's Mountain - and I couldn't get enough of him either.  His version of Robert Johnson's "Hell hound on My Trail" is to die for - but Youtube doesn't have it.  He was a great genre-bender who mixed country, blues and weird rock and roll to capture something of the era...

And then there was Frank Zappa: sweet Lord how many times did I see the Mothers of Invention at the Fillmore?  At least as many times as they played between 1967-1970.  Zappa was not only an incredible composer and guitarist - jazz or rock - but he was also a satirist who saw through the hype of the 60s and called out those who were listening to march to their own drummer.  Not many got it back then - we was totally in your face - but back in the day he challenged the greed of our consumer culture in ways that still rings true.

We used to take the train in to NYC to see some of the greatest acts live at the Fillmore: Country Joe and Fish, It's a Beautiful Day, Chuck Berry, Albert King, Dr. John and so many more.  Yes, I saw some crap, too:  how about Iron Butterfly?  And while I never got to see the Airplane or the Dead at the Fillmore - at other places yes, but not at the shrine - who can forget Hendrix?  What a treat...

Visiting with a young mom and her 1 year old today got me thinking of these golden oldies:  she said, "One of my favorite concerts EVER was Tom Petty.  There was an old stoner there - probably a Vietnam vet - who was just ancient but totally loving it."  I just smiled and thought that when my buddy from high school, Hal, joins our TGE practice tomorrow night we'll just think, "look homeward, angel."

So here's the deal: countdown to TGE has begun...

So here's the deal:  the countdown to our Thanksgiving Eve gig has begun - and I haven't been this excited about the combination of musicians and songs in a LONG time.  I always enjoy this event - it is one of the highlights of my year - but this year is special. (The other true highlight was in Tucson when we did the post-Katrina benefit with Stranger.) And given how excited I was about the whole thing - and couldn't get to sleep - I decided to think through what makes this show so important.

+ First, there is the sheer musicality of the event.  Great musicians - some amateurs, some pros - all committed to beauty and musical integrity.  Nobody is getting paid - this is a benefit for emergency fuel in the Berkshires for the winter - so it is ALL about the music. And saying that, I think that means two things, too.  It is about being embraced by the sounds and at the same time supporting one another with our gifts.  There is NO ego in this ensemble - and we've got nearly 20 performers!  No prima donas, no divas, no hot shot ass hole's who are self-obsessed:  just 20 people who have come to love one another through the music.

And can these cats play - in almost any style - it is amazing!  The theme of the show comes from Tom Waits' "Come on Up to the House," but the breadth of music is stunning:  jazz, rock, folk, country, traditional and contemporary hymnody, a capella Americana, blues as well as a show tune or two.  And when people who love one another bring their considerable gifts together for the sake of other, the music becomes transcendent (at least to me.) So, first there is the commitment and delivery of the music that makes this show special.

+ Second, there is the theology of this event.  At the heart of Tom Waits' song is an invitation: come on up to the house.  On every level, this show explores that invitation. This is a welcome extended to everyone - young and old, male and female, gay and straight, Christian and Jew and Buddhist and Sufi - where each person is cherished.  That is true for the band - everybody plays in the group AND gets to share a few solo slots, too - as well as the audience.  There is lots of room and opportunity for singing along - a lost experience in much of privatized America these days.

There is also the understanding that what we're doing is for the common good.  That gives a bigger context.  Sure, it is a total gas making beautiful music together with hot and loving musicians.  That is a blessing in itself.  But to do so for a cause greater than self is exhilarating. There is no other way to describe it but soul food that lifts the spirit into a place that nourishes hope and commitment.  It is one of those mountain top times that gives me hope for the necessary but all too demanding descent into the valley.

+ And third there is the unspoken message of this event:  the church CAN be an ally in these strange and demanding times rather than a bastion of resistance.  Like the sisters and brothers of OWS make clear, we NEED one another to challenge our culture of greed.  We NEED one another to rethink our priorities.  We NEED one another to create shelter from the storm.  And in an understated way, this event pre-figures some of that as we model cooperation and compassion.  True, it takes the form of music but running through each song - and the totality of the concert - is a trust that a church need not be relegated to the sidelines of social change. 

This is solidarity - not evangelism.  This is what the Taize brothers often speak of as "a parable of hope" where the church becomes a festival of hope.  My congregation used to be known as the bastion of so-called "high" culture - and it was. It was the church of the elite.  But given the economic crash of the 1980s our town has changed and not only have many of the elites departed, but on so many levels we can no longer sustain a 1950s operation.  Today we are a truly blended congregation where rich and old, gay and straight, old timers and guests mix in a way that seems somehow related to this event.  This isn't about sharing just the highlights of a proud past, but embracing the sounds of this moment in time and welcoming everyone in to the house. There is a place of Handel's "Messiah" - and I love it.  There is also a place for lifting our voices in "We Shall Overcome" and "Come On Up to the House," too.

Well, I guess that is enough.  The local paper is going to interview me about the gig later this morning as the buzz is growing about how much fun it is going to be.  A photographer spent about an hour with us last night taking shots of the practice.  I am blessed that this is moving forward in such a creative and satisfying way.  Now it is onward to sound check - tomorrow - and then the gig!  Blessings.

UPDATE:  Great interview with the Berkshire Eagle reporter - a man who LOVES Tom Waits! We spoke both of how his "bar room theology" resonates with mine as well as the importance of bringing people together to discover our collective power.  I can't wait to see how it turns out.  One of the joys of living in a small community is getting to know the folk who resource the community institutions.  And another joy is bringing together some of the most unlikely folk to share music:  the science teacher at the high school (and former teachers' union president) singing Grateful Dead, a newspaper photographer and leading doctor singing the blues or CSNY harmony along with local jazz giants. What a trip! 

For another take on all of this, see the way the recent issue of the Christian Century interpreted what our congregation is doing (along with three others) @ http://christiancentury.org/article/2011-11/new-harmonies

So here's a totally random question...

Ok, so here's a totally random question: for our Thanksgiving Eve show I like to throw in a few tunes that are just flat out FUN.  Precious little social significance and no theological depth - just flat out fun. - and abandon. For example, when we take up the collection for the emergency fuel assistance fund we're going to do Berry Gordy's "Money" - with a nod to the Flying Lizards - and our little guys will be playing "Twist and Shout" because... who can resist little guitar dudes making it happen, right?

In past year's we've added Chuck Berry's "Around and Around" or even Bobby Dylan's "Leopardskin Pillbox Hat." Well, this year I've got 8 other guitar dudes - and one guitar dudess - plus some KILLER singers coming so I've been wondering if we should add one of the following:

+ When guitar players get together, there HAS to be a blues jam, yes?  It can be mildly entertaining for the crowd but it is always deeply satisfying for the musicians.  This year I can't tell whether it should be Slim Harpo's "Baby Scratch My Back" or ZZ Top's "Jesus Just Left Chicago?"  Both are hot stuff... Here is a version of "Scratch My Back" that just keeps on smokin!

But then I can't get enough of the wild men from Texas either... and I have to make a choice between these or else this show will go on til midnight.  What do you think?

And then there is the feminist consideration - a unique problem in the realm of rock and roll, yes? - and important on a number of fronts - not the least because we have so many rockin' women playing with us this year. So I'm wondering what you think of adding "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" - especially this latter day version.  Cyndi Lauper just did a Rolling Stone interview about women being overlooked and damn... I KNOW girls just to have fun, too.

So is there any inspired wisdom out there?  Let me know... the show is Wednesday! On another front, I couldn't resist sharing Fr. Richard Rohr's Christ the King posting from earlier today.  It is right on the money...

Give  me your failure, God says, and I will make life out of it. Give me your broken,  disfigured, rejected, betrayed lives, like the body you see hanging on the  cross, and I will make life out of it. This is the divine pattern of promise  and transformation which gives such hope to history. It is probably the central  Gospel message.

We  are all still handicapped and terribly aware of our wounds, but as St.  Augustine (354-430)  says in his Confessions, "In my  deepest wound I saw Your glory and it dazzled me.” He seems to be saying that  against all expectations our very failures can be our way through to God and to  ourselves. That utterly levels the playing field. Even Julian of Norwich  (1342-1416) says,

God sees our wounds, and sees them  not as scars but as honors. . . . For God holds sin as a sorrow and pain to us.  He does not blame us for them.
~ Revelations of Divine Love, Chapter 39, Showing 13

If  the Gospel is true, we might eventually thank God for our very weaknesses and  failures.

Rock and roll and Christ the King - pretty random for some - but the heart of my world..

NOTE:  after practice we decided to bag ALL the fun options and go with beauty - with the exception of "Money."  Now that Charlie has joined the mix it will get even BETTER!

More musings on Christ the King Sunday...

Tomorrow is Christ the King Sunday.  My 80+ year old friend who recently moved to Florida to be closer to family just wrote me that his congregation is NOT marking this day.  It seems that many in his new and very large congregation are refugees from fundamentalism.  And at least for the time being, they have created a church home that is more abstract and Unitarian than the overtly radical Christian faith that is near and dear to our hearts. He is frustrated both that mean-spirited congregations have wounded some dear souls so profoundly that they don't feel safe with the fullness of Jesus; and, that sometimes our liberal congregations don't help people move through the wilderness of their wounds. Instead, in our commitment to inclusivity, we can sacralize the brokenness so that nothing changes:  no healing, no greater intimacy, no deeper insights into the limits of our pain in light of God's deeper grace.  In a word, we don't speak of a Christ whose love can help us beyond being stuck, addicted or afraid.

To that end, because we are both poets, I found myself looking for poems about Christ the King Sunday for him - but I haven't been too successful.  Most are crap - waaaaaaaay too sentimental for my spirituality - making me think that God must get so bored with our bullshit and sloppy agape. And then I found this one from Tom Blair in Maryland called "The King and I."

The King and I

neither old, or dead, nor robed in satin with ermine trim,
not now collecting dust on the bookshelf of history,
this King is willing and ready to stop, look and listen.

needing no man or maidservant, stepping down from his throne
into the mud of my life,
despite my weaknesses and grudges,
working in me, remaking me, bit by bit, day by day.

in a world of rough and tumble living, claims of power attract.
Your message, King Jesus, is clothed in humility, you claim nothing
but a desire for my soul to be given over to the point of deepest need.
You are a mirror to the unknown territory of my heart.
no muscle here, no force,
only the magnetism of your holiness in flesh and blood,
drawing me toward your way.

Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” John 18:37

This rings true for me - so enjoy good and faithful servant.

Allies, artists, friends and angels...

For most of my early life I wondered why all of the "God-talk" I heard - in both the Reformed and Roman traditions - were so angry and harsh.  To a child and teen, Jesus sounded like a man of compassion - an advocate for justice and hope, too.  But God was regularly framed as the Judge (in the worst sense of that word.)  Truth be told, I couldn't make sense of the affirmation that Jesus was the clearest embodiment of God - one with God in every way - when God was so god-damn mean.

Then, in my 30s I discovered the Christian mystics, the way of St. Benedict and the writings of Hasids and all bets were off.  Here - finally - was a way of being loved by God that spoke to my heart.  Yesterday, Fr. Richard Rohr wrote: 

God always entices us  through love.

Most  of us were taught that God would love us if and when we change. In fact, God  loves you so that you can change. What  empowers change, what makes you desirous of change is the experience of love. It is that inherent experience of love  that becomes the engine of change. If the mystics say that one way, they say it  a thousand ways. But because most of our common religion has not been at the  mystical level, we’ve been given an inferior message—that God loves me when I change (moralism). What that does  is put it back on you. You’re back to “navel-gazing,” and you never succeed at that level. You  are never holy enough, pure enough, refined enough, or loving enough. Whereas, when you fall into God’s mercy,  when you fall into God’s great generosity, you find, seemingly from nowhere,  this capacity to change. No one is more surprised than you are. You know it is  a gift.

Rohr nails it for me - and I've been searching for allies ever since.  As many of you know, I've found many in music - playing, listening, creating and enjoying music has been soul food for me - mostly because it is an embodied mysticism.  Poetry and film have become allies, too along with visual arts, sculpture and dance.  Pastor Eugene Peterson, a great advocate for the arts, puts it like this:

Writers and angels share a quality - a penchant for elusiveness - for staying out of the way. Our best writers hide themselves in their work. And angles are for the most part invisible and inaudible, neither noticed nor heard. For transcendence cannot be forced upon us. It doesn't yell, doesn't announce its presence with a bullhorn, doesn't advertise itself on roadside billboards. There is nothing bullying about transcendence.

What it requires is noticing. Witnesses to transcendence don't create transcendence. The transcendence is already here, or there. But in our hurry to get someplace else, we miss it. There is always more here than meets the eye.  We miss a lot. We need friends (or allies) who will grab on our shirttails, turn us around and show us what we have just now missed in our hurry to get across the street on our way to the bank.  We need friends who will tap us on the shoulder, interrupting our non-stop commentary on the talk of the town so that we can hear the truth. We need witnesses to transcendence.  Writers. (Artists) Angels. We stop, we look, we listen.

My hunch is that one of the reasons I so cherish playing our annual Thanksgiving Eve gig with a wild collection of musicians who are also friends and allies is that they not only feed my soul with their beautiful insights about God's transcendent love but also help me pause a little more to stop, look and listen.  We do a bunch of group songs - adding a few musicians to small group spots, too - and then let each performer do his/her own thing in a solo setting. It is always a delight to listen to these creations.  Each artist brings something beautiful and unique into the mix that is unexpected and holy.  And then we bring it home with a few big closing numbers.

One of the highlights is the BIG practice we hold a few days before the show:  it is a massive honking potluck of food and brew with lots of laughter.  It is a little like the opening verses of Genesis where the Spirit slowly but surely brings order and beauty out of chaos with her creative presence. It is always healing for me to be a part of this process - each person brings their best gifts - and then shares them together in community.  And by the end of the evening, we've found a way to be one in the Spirit.  We have to get out of our own way sometimes - back off and hide in the music so that it works - and that is just as important as the final song, yes?

If you are around, please join us on Wednesday, November 23rd @ 7:30 pm.  The spirit of Occupy Wall Street will be there for sure.  An old-fashioned hymn sing, a meeting of the Wobblies with some Prairie Home Companion and an acoustic Grateful Dead party, too.