Shalom - Salam - Baris - and all that jazz...

NOTE:  Here are my worship notes for this coming Sunday, October 14, 2012 @ 13:30 am. It is our privilege to have guests with us from Turkey as well as my band mates who made that pilgrimage of peace and jazz.  My reflection honors that on-going work and articulates the unique role jazz brings to the work of waging peace.

(The readings will include Isaiah 11: 1-9 with "Take Five" being played; followed by Mark 10: 17-27 followed by "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." )

Introduction

Everywhere around the world – from Istanbul to Indianapolis, in Cairo as well as Caracas, Moscow, Mumbai, Melbourne and Memphis – the hearts of all of God’s people ache for peace.  All of the world’s religions teach peace.  Most of the world’s leaders speak of peace.  And all of the world’s children cry for peace.

·        And yet today there are over 26 active wars taking place across God’s sweet creation including Syria and Sudan, Nigeria and the Philippines, Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen, Libya as well as the drug wars of Mexico and Colombia.

·       Political realists like to remind us that war and violence are as old as creation itself; they always have been, they tell us and always will be – so grow up and deal with it because human nature is not going to change.

And I must confess that in my heart of hearts, I too am a realist.  Like the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr said:  “The sad duty of politics is to establish justice in a sinful world.”  He went on to observe that in the world as it is – and always has been – “goodness, armed with power, is always corrupted; and pure love without power is always destroyed.”  And that means there will always be conflict – there will always be the unintended and sinful consequences of even our best intentions – and there will always be war and sorrow and unnecessary suffering for people and animals and even the earth itself. 

As the somber cynic of the Hebrew Bible put it in Ecclesiastes:  All things are wearisome; more than one can express; the eye is not satisfied with seeing or the ear filled with hearing:  for what has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun. 

And – at the very same time – often within the very same broken and discouraged heart – is another song – an alternative vision:  a deep and authentic yearning for Shalom – Salam – Baris in Turkish – God’s peace – that can move people and creation into balance and harmony with one another just as God intended in the beginning.  One of the early poets of Israel  - a pre-figurative jazz man in my view – put it like this in a song Christians sing every year in anticipation of Christmas:

A prophet shall shoot up from the stock of Jesse and a branch shall grow out of his roots.The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, a spirit of wisdom and understanding, a spirit of counsel and might, a spirit of knowledge and awe of the Lord. In fact, the prophet shall delight in sharing the awe of the Lord. He won’t judge by what his eyes see or decide by what his ears hear – and that’s good news for all of us – but rather with compassion he shall judge the poor, with equity he will advocate for the meek of the earth… And 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. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord.

Now let’s be clear:  this poem and vision is the minority report in history – and sadly in religion, too.  It requires constant practice to sing and play well.  And most of the time, like contemporary jazz, it is pushed to the sidelines of popular culture so that something sexier, dumber and less challenging might fill our heads with distractions and empty our checking accounts in the process.  The poetry and music of peace – like jazz – is usually ignored, belittled and hidden in our era of bottom line living.

Insights

That is why I am so delighted that our friends from Turkey – Ahmet and Ezer Cigdem – and the Sister City Jazz Ambassadors are with us today.  Not only are they visible, living proof that God’s song of peace is alive and well in the world despite the very real suffering and conflict, but they also are a reminder of the unique roll jazz can play in spreading the good news of Shalom, Salam, Baris.  In fact, I’m going to be so bold as to say that jazz can open the heart and soul for peace in ways that religion and politics and business as usually cannot.

We met these two dear friends on a tour of Istanbul in the summer of 2011:  they greeted us on our first night in town, told us where to get some good eats after our first concert in a strange town and took us into their homes and hearts.  They shared with us wisdom and insight about their beloved country, were the very essence of hospitality for strangers in a strange land and I came to think of them as the embodi-ment of God’s servants in the words of Jesus who spoke of peace-makers like this:

When was it that we saw you, Lord, hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And the king answered them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

Now on that first night in Istanbul,  something amazing happened:  traditional people and hipsters, gay and straight, men, women and children, very religious people and those with a truly secular bent ALL got into the groove when the Jazz Ambassadors hit the stage.  They clapped – they cheered – they danced and welcomed us as we shared American jazz in many of its varieties.  And here’s what I have come to believe:  They did so because the songs we played touched something in their hearts that is universal:  the longing for peace – the aching for common ground – the cry for connection with all that is good, true and pure.

There is a jazz standard you might know called “When You Wish Upon a Star.”  It was written in 1940 for Walt Disney’s “Pinocchio” by Leigh Harline and Ned Washington.  It is beautiful and tender – it has a romantic melody line – and evokes the innocent heart that exists in all of us no matter where we live or how experienced or jaded we’ve become, ok? 
But here’s what I think is truly incredible:  over the years this American jazz ballad has become a Christmas song of peace throughout the world.  In Japan as well as Norway, Sweden and Denmark, it is known as “The Star of Bethlehem” song or “Did You See the Light (or Star) in the Darkness?” Listen to it for a moment now and see if it doesn’t speak to you of Isaiah’s vision of peace...

That’s the first reason I think jazz can cut through fear and culture and language and religion in a unique way:  it speaks to the heart.  It is all about beauty and yearning and simplicity – dare I say peace, too?  As our Bible puts it:  deep speaks to deep – and jazz does this in a way that I have seen build bridges.  Not that these bridges are permanent – they need constant care and attention to strengthen and fortify because they are fragile – but they can be built.

That’s one of the things the first great ambassador of jazz, Louis Armstrong, discovered:  he played “When You Wish Upon a Star” all over the world and used to say:  What we play is life – life as it is – and life as it could be.  Everyone all over the world understands the yearning of this song and sings it in their own way – in their own language – and jazz gives us a way to share what we all know and yearn for in our hearts.

The second thing that jazz does for peace is equally unique but often under-appreciated.  One of our nation’s most treasured jazz musicians, Wynton Marsalis, who runs the Jazz at Lincoln Center program put it like this:

The bandstand is a sacred place... (and there is a) soulful thing about playing:  you offer something to somebody. You don't know if they'll like it, but you offer it... What’s more, what you offer looks a lot like freedom and democracy only in sound.  Jazz means working things out musically with other people. You have to listen to other musicians and play with them even if you don’t agree with what they’re playing. It teaches you the very opposite of racism and anti-Semitism…

And I would add war and hatred, too, right? It isn’t accidental, you know, that during the Cold War with communism jazz was banned from the Soviet block nations – and Radio Free Europe filled the airwaves with it for decades.  The great Duke Ellington once said:

 

Put it this way: Jazz is a good barometer of freedom… In its beginnings, the United States of America spawned certain ideals of freedom and independence through which, eventually, jazz was evolved, and the music is so free that many people say it is the only unhampered, unhindered expression of complete freedom yet produced in this country.

Our gospel reading for today says something similar when Jesus tells a young man who wants to go deeper that he has to learn to get over himself first if he wants to be free in the Lord:

As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.” He said to him, ‘Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth. Jesus, looking at him, loved him with a pure and compassionate heart and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money  to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.

Now let’s be clear about something:

·      Jesus wasn’t saying money was bad – he couldn’t have conducted his ministry without it – and he depended upon the generosity of many people just like this church does today.  No, the issue wasn’t money; it was this young man’s obsession with it.  He was addicted to it – it ruled his heart – so he had to learn how to live without it in order to be free.

·      You see, his money made him think he was special – better than others – more valuable and important.  And Jesus said, “Brother, that ain’t necessarily so... see what it’s like to have to live in communion with the poorest and most vulnerable.  Dig how to live in cooperation and harmony for a change... and then, maybe, you’ll get what God’s grace is all about.”

And jazz is ALL about cooperation, harmony, freedom and beauty in a sea of improvisation and creativity.  Let me give you another example in the classic Miles Davis tune from 1959:  “All Blues.”  This song is brilliant in simplicity and drama:

·       It takes a traditional African-American musical form – the blues – and plays with it in creative and unexpected ways.  It became the musical foundation for Dmitri Shostakovich’s Eleventh Symphony and was also the inspiration for Oscar Brown, Jr. – a freedom and civil rights artist – who wrote a poem to accompany the groove.

·       When we play it we’ll add the lyrics – and lots of room to improvise and listen – hoping that it will be both playful and beautiful at the same time.

For me “All Blues” is the epitome of Brother Marsalis’ confession that: The bandstand is a sacred place... (because) there you offer something to somebody and you don't know if they'll like it, but you offer it still...  and what you offer looks a lot like freedom and…  working things out musically with other people. You have to listen to other musicians and play with them even if you don’t agree with what they’re playing. It teaches you the very opposite of all that is hateful…

Conclusion

Over the years I have come to believe that one of our vocations as people of faith is to keep the dream of peace alive.  Politicians pay lip service to peace, but they have other agendas, too.  Businesses know how important peace is for stability, but often they make a lot of money for their shareholders with war.

And God knows religious leaders keep themselves propped up all over the world appealing to our worst fears and prejudices – and this is as true for Judaism as it is for Islam and Christianity – like Jesus said, “Not everyone who cries Lord, Lord is about the kingdom.”

I have come to believe that jazz has a special sound – a unique ministry – a sacred calling that can advance the cause of peace in our time.  The master, John Coltrane, put it like this:  My music is the spiritual expression of what I am – my faith, my knowledge, my being … When you begin to see the possibilities of music, you desire to do something really good for people, to help humanity free itself from its hang-ups … I want to speak to their souls… Over all, I think the main thing a musician would like to do is give a picture to the listener of the many wonderful things that he knows of and senses in the universe. . . That’s what I would like to do. I think that’s one of the greatest things you can do in life and we all try to do it in some way.

Israel’s poet of peace, Isaiah, went even further:  For the spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, a spirit of wisdom and understanding, a spirit of counsel and might, a spirit of knowledge and awe... and the prophet shall delight in sharing the awe of the Lord.  He won’t judge by what his eyes see or decide by what his ears hear – and that’s good news for all of us – but rather with compassion he shall judge the poor, with equity he will advocate for the meek of the earth…

… and with beautiful music shall set our souls free in pursuit of peace.  Blessings of peace – Shalom – Salam – Baris – be upon you dear friends.  And may the Lord of the dance add blessings and peace to us all. 

credits:  debra hurd abstract jazz art @ http://debrahurd.blogspot.com/

Rediscovering reverence as a form of peace-making...

Our two dogs - one old, one new - are outside my study window this morning as I prepare for tonight's class on rediscovering reverence.  They are a study in contrasts.  Casey, 15+ years, is a mellow, cranky and well-behaved old friend.  He has a routine - and likes it. He is also just a bit peeved that life has been turned upside-down by the new pup.  Lucie is just 10 weeks old - a critical time in her young life for socialization and learning order - so she is funny, bratty, playful and filled with more energy than any of us imagined.  Thanks be to God, after a week, both dogs are making room for one another is small but significant ways.

Author, James Taylor (not of sweet baby fame), writes in The Spirituality of Pets:  "Rudyard Kipling coined the phrase: nature red in tooth and claw.... But, in fact, it isn't.  Nature has evolved an astonishingly sophisticated system of cooperation and, yes, even trust."  Without sentimentality or schlock, he goes on to note:

On a safari in Africa, I was amazed to see cheetahs and gazelles drinking from the same water hole. Or lions sunning themselves on a rocky outcrop while wildebeest grazed nearby. The prey animals are wary, but they co-exist with their predators.  With rare exceptions, wild predators do not kill for the sake of killing. As long as there's an abundance of food available, they're prepared to live and let live.  It makes me wonder, sometimes, if the Hebrew prophet Isaiah had seen something similar, when he wrote about lions and lambs feeding together without fear.

Without overstating the case, I can't help but notice that when life is in balance - when God's abundance within and beyond is respected and nourished - there is space for everyone at the table:  friends and strangers, old dogs and new, predators and prey.  And this balance is so easily interrupted by not paying attention.  Last night, after dinner, we were watching an old Poirot mystery about the venerable detective's vacation on the island of Rhodes.  With great appreciation for history and detail, the show offers us a glimpse of the extreme arrogance of the English at the height of their empire - and the disdain and imbalance it created among the indigenous people.  Dianne said, "No wonder that young man screamed at you in disgust when we were in Turkey; he thought you were English and they have been such total shits to so many people - using them and discarding them - without any apparent remorse."

Or appreciation for reverence, yes?  Reverence takes time - and commitment - and a willingness to learn from even the least among us.  It demands that we get out into the wild and listen and learn.  It asks that we nourish a sense of awe for even the smallest blessings in life. Ralph Heintzman writes:

The more we pay attention to this inner feeling or spirit of reverence, the more we notice the sense of rightness or fulfillment that comes with it, and the way in which it seems to respond to some of our deepest needs. Paradoxically, we find we are most at home with ourselves when we are able, with dignity and conviction, to acknowledge our place in some kind of larger order we did not create and do not control.

This morning's NYTimes carried an article by Bill Keller about how he experienced this connection with the mystery bigger than the self through the good death of a Anthony Gilbey. (check it out @ http://www.nytimes.com/2012/10/08/opinion/keller-how-to-die.html?ref=opinion) He closes his reflection like this:

During Anthony Gilbey’s six days of dying he floated in and out of awareness on a cloud of morphine. Unfettered by tubes and unpestered by hovering medics, he reminisced and made some amends, exchanged jokes and assurances of love with his family, received Catholic rites and managed to swallow a communion host that was probably his last meal. Then he fell into a coma. He died gently, loved and knowing it, dignified and ready. 
      

“I have fought death for so long,” he told my wife near the end. “It is such a relief to give up.” 

      

We should all die so well.

 

He was connected to a love greater than himself.  He was in touch with reverence. And he was in balance with the sacred rhythm of life, death and life beyond death. 

 

Rediscovering reverence, nourishing the habits of awe in a community of faith, slowing down and unplugging from the madness of our culture, finding time to play with (and train) our two dogs, listening quietly to a person in pain and loving my family have gradually become my deepest commitments.  They are, in fact, the way I live into peace-making (along with music) these days.  There is a time and place for protests.  There is a need for influencing public policy, too.  But today I sense this must be grounded in the rhythm of reverence rather than obsession or fear. 

 

One evangelical blogger, Donald Miller, wrote last week of "the deception of urgency."

 

If you’d have asked me when I left Portland whether I was stressed, I’d have told you I wasn’t. But the island revealed my stress level was at an all-time high. I only knew that when I began to calm down. There’s something soothing about the ocean and the forest. It’s as though God reminds us through creation all things live, all things die, and He is in control...Don’t let urgency keep you from your spouse, your kids, creation or the God who made them all. You may find, like me, you get more done when your soul is fed first.

 

St. Paul put it like this 2000 years ago:

 

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

Next Sunday: Peace-Making Through Jazz...

Next Sunday - October 14th - is going to be a total blast.  First, we're going to have two guests from Turkey, Ahmet and Eser, join us for worship and reflections after worship.  Second, my mates from the Jazz Ambassadors will also join us for some music and sharing about "peace-making through jazz." (BTW if you want to check out this band, go to: http://sistercityjazz.blogspot.com/)  And third, I will offer my take on why sharing jazz music is essential to the discovery of common ground across barriers of race, religion, culture.

Brother Wynton Marsailis put it like this:  the bandstand is a sacred place... (and there is a) soulful thing about playing: you offer something to somebody. You don't know if they'll like it, but you offer it... Understand as long as there is democracy, there will be people wanting to play jazz because nothing else will ever so perfectly capture the democratic process in sound. Jazz means working things out musically with other people. You have to listen to other musicians and play with them even if you don’t agree with what they’re playing. It teaches you the very opposite of racism and anti-Semitism. It teaches you that the world is big enough to accommodate us all.  

Last Friday night, for example, our band was sizzlin' towards the end of our second set at the Mission.  And just when we thought it couldn't get any hotter, two of the best trumpeters in the county showed up.  Not one, but count em two maestros - and they immediately came onto the bandstand to join the mix.  We played a swinging jazz standard to give ourselves a little room to take it all in and then jumped into some Dixieland. And then before you knew it we were heading right into the Miles Davis classic, "All Blues."

Now the bass sets the groove for this song and I almost ALWAYS hear it slow and sultry. But our drummer was pumped and wanted to push it faster... and for about 24 bars we were having a musical tug of war - with some verbal discussion thown in for good measure -because it wasn't yet clear where the Spirit was taking this thing.  Then, with the tension in the rhythm section VERY real, out of nowhere he smiled and said, "Yeah, baby, go for it slow:  feel it and make it cook." And we were off for 20 minutes of badass improvisation that felt like summer time in New Orleans. 

Unpacking the set afterwards, we both said something like:  playing this music is such a blessing - not only do we have to keep it real by listening and checking in and going with our gut - but we have to also be willing to let go of our stuff on behalf of the greater beauty.  And always - always -  always - when this happens we know that there is something going on that is greater than us.  Always. You may not dig the musical mysticism, but it is for real:  when you are playing you HAVE to listen to the other musicians and play with them even if you don't always agree with what they're playing.

That's the heart of what my peace-making message next week is going to be about - and I'll also note that jazz let's musicians talk about real life in their music, too. We're talking about the HUMAN experience - not just the American experience or the Turkish experience or the male or female thing - but the human experience.  And those who aren't afraid of discovering common ground IN the human experience are open to the groove of jazz. 

Poet, Oscar Brown, Jr, put it like this in a tune we'll do on Sunday:

The sea, the sky, the you and I The sea, the sky, for you and I I'll know we're all blues All Shades, all hues, all blues Some blues are sad But some are glad, Dark-sad or bright-galdThey're all blues All shades, all hues, all blues The color of colors The blues are more than a color They're a moan of pain A Taste of strife And a sad refrain A game which life is playin' Blues can be the livin' dues We're all a-payin' Yeah, Oh Lord In a rainbow A summer day that's fair A parayer is prayed A lament that's made Some shade of blues is there; Blue heaven's hue, They're all blues!

That's what we discovered in Istanbul.  That's what I've seen happen in Moscow and the band has found in Italy and Ireland and Nicargua, too.  Hell, I've seen it in middle schools where rich white kids who think they are too hip to care get caught up in the groove and our shared humanity at a deep level - and before you know it THEY get it, too.  Marsailis is right:  in THOSE moments, the bandstand becomes a sacred place.

Please join us for worship next Sunday @ 10:30 am if you can.

Mystery...

This may strike you as odd, but I mostly wanted to bring a new puppy into our life so that I might learn to share a little better.  In reflecting on my life and ministry, one of the things I am discerning is that I want to become quieter, more reflective, better at connecting to my own natural rhythms as well as those of creation and more able to share time, love and listening.To say that these commitments have been a growing edge within me over the past 30 years is true; to note that they have not always been real for me and those I love is equally true, too.  In a word, learning to let go and trust God - rather than hustle and organize my way into success - makes me a work in progress.

So I've been actively resisting even thinking about a new dog for the past two years. But when my daughters were gushing over the new puppies they had seen at a local farm last week-end over dinner, something started to unlock within me.  You see, I don't think it was coincidental that this awakening started to take place during the celebration of my ordination anniversary.  Bob Dylan once sang: "Something's going on all around you and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?"  Jesus was more gentle: "No one knows which way the wind (that is Holy Spirit) is blowing." So, the more my girls talked, the more I realized I was wanting to check out these pups.  And with sage-like wisdom, Dianne sat quietly back and let the Spirit work her magic.

At first, I put on a disinterested air when planning the logistics - I have a lot of practice - and I was still uncertain at a deep level.  As the Monks at New Skete write:  Caring for a dog is a lot of hard work. Canis familiaris, the pet dog, cannot take care of itself.  From the moment of its adoption until the day of its death... it is a highly dependent creature that will count on you for all the essentials of life... so understand this: while there are a number of legitimate, practical reasons for getting a pup... none of them should ever exclude or override the chief one: the desire for companionship and the willingness to accept the obligations this entails.  For the first five years of this phase of ministry, I wasn't ready to share my time, my house, my quiet or my life with anyone.  I need to be grounded.

But now something else was stirring and I was sensing that not only did I want to practice loving and being loved in a new way, I was being called in that direction, too.  Truth told, I never would have thought it would have included a puppy.

These days we live a quiet life - I guess that is relative because yes, I still go at 100 miles an hour when I'm active - but I am learning to chill and be chill, too.  Walking Lucie when I would rather be asleep in the morning, figuring out how to get all the "chewable" things out of her path so that they aren't destroyed or just letting her fall dead asleep on my chest at the end of a long day is taking me deeper still.  It is a mystery why and how we were called to welcome her into our home at this moment time.  But I am ever more comfortable with mystery.

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
   to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the\
   mouths of lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
   in allegiance with gravity
      while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds will
   never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
   scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
   who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
   "Look!" and laugh in astonishment,
   and bow their heads.
(Mary Oliver)

Keep on jazzin' in the free world...

Ok, I just HAD to post this.  After doing a few errands today - and getting up for the early doggie walk - this note came in from one of the young mom's at church.  She wrote:

Dear Band Members,

I just want to tell you all how much I appreciate your working with Olivia on "Safe and Sound". She thought it was the absolute coolest thing to be up there with her very own mic at rehearsal on Tuesday! She walked out of the church with a huge grin and couldn't stop smiling. Even when Will and I were in the library working on his homework, he heard her voice coming from the other room and said "Is that Olivia? WOW."

Dianne - Thank you for having this great idea for her to perform with you as part of her confirmation practice. The harmonies and arrangements are beautiful.

Olivia is very happy you have given her this unique opportunity, and I just want you to know that we appreciate it.

With thanks from the bottom of my heart...

 

I have to tell you, THIS is one of the reasons I keep on doing what I do:  nourishing faith and creativity in community.  There is almost NOTHING better in this world - or the next!  This is like what happened after last night's gig, when I was sitting with Ethan's dad talking about what a gas it is for this young man to rock the house in this setting.  He said something like:  "You've helped him unlock part of himself that he can share with others - and that is so incredible!"  And it is incredible - and to link it to the bounty of God's grace is essential - so that we all understand that our creativity is a gift to be celebrated, nourished and shared.  No prima donnas here - just joyful servants sharing a feast - a feast where everyone has a place at the table.

Now I don't keep at it to get thanks - that would be too self-serving - but let me tell you when a mom or dad takes the time to share something like this... my heart sings and I am fortified in ways beyond words.  The totality of this work - encouraging faith and creativity in pursuit of beauty, compassion and community - is the most important thing I can be doing with my time and talent.  And I am blessed that after 30 years, I can still do it!

Next week, two of our hosts from Istanbul - Eser and Ahmet - will be in town.  And they'll be joining us for worship.  My jazz mates will be there, too as we talk about "peace-making through jazz."  Now here's the thing:  this will be the first time my friends from Turkey have EVER been in Christian worship - and they run a beautiful inn in the town of Iznik (once known as Nicaea of creedal fame) so it is essential that they experience the creative grace of Christian worship in the US after hearing so much about the hate, fundamentalism and fear. And it is sweet that ALL my jazz buddies are willing to join us for this time, too.  In their core they get how important it is to explore faith in the context of creativity and deep community.

To paraphrase the great Canadian social commentator, Neil Young:  we HAVE to keep on jazzin' in the free world.  And in the church.  And in the bars.  And in our homes, too.

In a groove...

Like the old song says, "Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug..." Last night, the Jazz Ambassadors opened the 10th annual Pittsfield Jazz Festival at Patrick's Pub - and we were clearly the windshield!  It felt so good to be making good, swingin' sounds with my band mates - and the enthusiasm of the audience pushed us to go deeper - it was simply electric.

Almost right out of the gate, after a little bossa nova opener, Andy called "All Blues" - my favorite Miles number - because Di has found her own way to sing the most excellent lyrics penned by Oscar Brown, Jr. and inspired by Ernestine Anderson.  She OWNED that tune last night - and being in such a deep jazz groove let us all go much deeper. Charlie took an extended journey into other planets on his alto sax break on "Take Five."  He did something similar at the end of "Blue Skies" - literally took the song to another place - which inspired Andy and Jonnie to break WAAAAY out of the box, too.  It was very tight but with lots of space to wander into the music.  
A few special guests kicked up the energy, too:  my young church buddy, Ethan, burned down the house with "Steam Roller Blues," local blues man Lee Everrit ripped it up with "God Bless the Child," too.  Clearly the packed house helped - and having lots of jazz fans out who both love and know the genre - was a blessing.  Their energy really pushed the whole band to be more playful and creative.

So, even when my nasty cold returned at the close of our last song, I was buzzin and in a groove because the music was so sweet.  Tonight, we play the Mission on North Street as part of the city's "ArtWalk" on night two the jazz festival.  Come on down if you are in town - Bennie will be with us on keys and that'll create something totally new.
Next Friday, we'll host Eser and Ahmet - two of our hosts from Turkey - at Dottie's Coffee House on North Street between 7-9 pm.  And they will also join us at worship on Sunday morning, October 14th - along with the rest of the Jazz Ambassadors - for a time of "peace making through jazz" during Sunday worship.  What a total gas!

The airplane and st. francis...

Today is St. Francis day who said:

He who works with his hands is a laborer.
He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman.
He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.

Here is an old band - and an old clip - from an old venue that STILL brings me joy with the freshness of their sound and willingness to take new chances with their music.  We play a jazz gig tonight at Patrick's - and tomorrow at the Mission - and I hope we have as much fun and share as much beauty as these old artists did at the Fillmore East...

We did something crazy - and blessed...

As you probably know by now, we did something totally crazy - and blessed - yesterday:  we welcomed a 9 week old puppy into your family.  The craziness of such folly is obvious to anyone who knows me:  I like the quiet and unforced rhythms of grace in my current life.  I am nourished by the stillness of the country morning - my rituals of writing, reflection, reading and prayer - and coming and going as the Spirit  and minstry calls. I have a full and rich time being pastor, husband and local musician/artist.  In reallity, I probably do not need anything else to complicate my life.

... but being open to God's grace is not just about me - and nothing makes that more clear than bringing a puppy into the mix.  She was the runt of the litter - a little be scrappy and very self-assured - but also tiny and gentle and in need.  How better to nourish an open heart?  The Monks of New Skete put it like this:

A relationship with a dog is open-ended and expansive, a unique opportunity that provides the means for enhancing the quality of life for both the dog and the owner. Each dog is an individual possessing possibilities that may truly surprise us. To be authentically human means learning to give oneself unselfishly, ungrudgingly, and to one who listens, the very nature of the dog calls this out in a unique and compelling way. In the very routine and ordinariness of a relationship with a dog, through the discipline and responsibility it entails, we learn about ourselves, about nature, about God and the spiritual path we are on in ways that would otherwise be unavailable to us. Without apologies, we have discovered that dogs play a crucial role in our growth in consciousness.

 All summer long I was wrestling with the blues - aware inside that something was brewing but not knowing what it is - but during my last pilgrimage to Quebec and my recent anniversary celebrations something became clear:  I'm being called into an ever more gentle style of Christ's ministry of presence.  And, truth be told, I need to learn and practice being still more than ever.  And who better to teach me than my new puppy partner in prayer? Look, I get that some people don't like animals and have no time in their lives for them.  But at this point in my life, I need help in listening and watching and waiting for the blessings in each ordinary day.  And now I have a helper...

Pilgrimage for World Communion Sunday...

NOTE:  Here are my worship notes for this coming Sunday, October 7th 2012 - World Communion Sunday.  We are going to share an experiential mini-pilgrimage this day where children and adults will both commune and then move throughout the Sanctuary to other "bread for the journey" stations.  Different breads from around the world will be offered as folk make a silent pilgrimage together.  Afterwards, we'll check in to see what was going on within and among us during this embodied prayer.

Introduction

Today is our celebration of World Communion Sunday – a Eucharistic feast for the whole family of God – even though most of God’s family in the Christian Church is prohibited from sharing Holy Communion with one another:  Romans can’t feast with Protestants, Eastern Orthodox can’t commune with Catholics, many Baptists won’t come to the table with those who haven’t been “born again” and a whole gaggle of self-proclaimed “spiritual but not religious” people don’t even think it is necessary to show up at worship with others – let alone come to the communion table – so they mostly eat by themselves.

·       It is a weird celebration that is simultaneously about being together and being nourished by God’s grace in community, as well as a reminder of all the different ways God’s people set up barriers to feasting with the Lord.

·       Jesus may have been clear when he told his disciples, “Don’t push these children away. Don’t ever get between them and me.  These children are at the very center of life in the kingdom. And mark this:  Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.”  But most of those who follow Jesus act like the Master got it wrong and we know better than God.

So today we’re going to try something designed to flip things back towards their upside-down nature in Christ’s kingdom:  in just a moment, when we come forward to receive Holy Communion, we’re going to add to it a symbolic pilgrimage.  So let me talk about that for just a moment – and then we’ll do it.

Insights

That is we’ll practice together going on a pilgrimage – and both words, practice and pilgrimage, need a little explanation.  Religion, at its best, is a collection of practices that have been time-tested over the centuries to help us stay connected to God.  Henri Nouwen said:  “Doctrines are not alien formulations which we must adhere to but the documentation of the most profound human experiences which, transcending time and place, are handed over from generation to generation as a light in our darkness.”

·       Did you get that?  Was his point clear? 

·       What brother Henri was trying to tell us is that we do certain things in church – and also in our homes - to help us stay awake to God’s amazing love.  We sing songs filled with bold sounds to remind us of God’s power.  We take a little time each Sunday for quiet or silent prayer to recall that God is tender and always present even when we don’t think anything is happening.

·       We light candles to symbolize the light God brings into our darkness.  We pray the Lord’s Prayer to stay connected with Jesus Christ our Lord. 

And all of these things are practices – actions designed to help us form habits that are loving and holy – virtues the guide us towards what is good and true and noble and pure inside and out.  Are you with me on that:  is that clear?  We practice becoming our best selves in worship – developing habits and virtues – based on the wisdom and experience of people who have gone before us.  I suspect that many of us do something like this already in our homes based upon the families we were born into, right?

·      Think about Thanksgiving dinner:  who do you celebrate it?  And where does your practice come from?  Family?  Friends?  Culture?

·       What about Christmas Eve in your house…?

Then you know what I mean about practicing traditions – nourishing habits and virtues for the good – that have their origin in those who have gone before us.  We do the same thing in the church:  every week, we practice doing certain things so that we grow stronger in the habits of God’s goodness.  We pass the Peace of Christ – we share gifts and offerings – we pray for others and ourselves – ok?

One of the ancient practices that Christians used to utilize all the time is found in the word: pilgrimage.  A pilgrimage is a journey or search for moral or spiritual significance.  And there are three parts to a holy pilgrimage:

·       First, you have to get ready – and you know something about getting ready, don’t you?  How many have to get ready for school?  What do you do to get ready? 

·       How many have to get ready for work?  And how do you get ready for Sunday morning worship at church?

A pilgrim – that is a person going on a pilgrimage – gets ready with prayer and quiet preparation.  She thinks of the journey as an adventure – not a burden – because somewhere along the way God is going to surprise her with a blessing.  The pilgrim doesn’t know when that will happen – or how it will happen – but they trust by faith that somehow it will happen.  So everything they do to get ready for the journey is done carefully and with great love.

·       Second, there eventually comes a time when you have to start the journey:  you have to go out your door, join with others and start the process of moving from one place to another.  That means, of course, that a pilgrimage involves movement – it isn’t trapped in a loop of preparation and fretting – it involves action. 

·       And how you move and act on a pilgrimage can tell you a lot about where you will meet and find God’s surprise blessings.  Some people get cranky – and rude – and demanding on a pilgrimage: where do you think God will surprise them on their trip?  Others are patient and always willing to be of help to somebody else:  where do you think God might meet them on their search? 

·       You never know where God is going to meet you on your walk – but almost always God does meet you in the most unexpected ways. 

So, a pilgrimage is a way of practicing not only getting ready to meet the Lord, but to be surprised by God’s presence, too. 

·       And then, after you’ve arrived at your destination, you have to come home:  you have to return to your starting place – and that’s the third step – going home.   

·       Have you ever gone to the movies?  When my daughters were small, I used to insist that after the movie was over we sit quietly together, watch the closing credits and listen to the music that was playing at the end of the movie.  Rather than get up and rush out without taking time to feel and think about the experience, we would sit and watch and wait.  And then we always took time to sit together and talk about what we experienced:  was it a well done movie?  Did it make us think or feel in new ways?  What did we like the most?  And to this day, we all still practice this act of sitting and waiting and then reflecting on what we have experienced. 

·      That’s what part three of a pilgrimage is all about:  taking time to reflect – think – listen for how you were touched before rushing on to the next experience.

In this morning’s lesson, it appears as if Jesus was on a pilgrimage – a journey he took to meet God’s loving people and share with them signs of hope – when some of the mothers in the village wanted to bring their children to him.  Scholars say that they probably wanted to receive a blessing from Jesus because in his time 60% of all children died of malnutrition before the age of 16.  So this wasn’t a pretty picture of a kindergarten; it was more like an outdoor emergency triage station.

·       And how did the religious leaders react to the women’s desire to bring their babies to Jesus for a blessing:  were they encouraging or angry? 

·       They did NOT want to let the children come forward – they pushed them away – and tried to send the little ones away.

And how did Jesus respond to their mean spirit?  He challenged them, right?  He said:  “Don’t push these children away.  Don’t ever get between them and me.  These children are at the very center of life in the kingdom.  And mark this:  Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.”

·       So he blessed and welcomed the little children – which was a total surprise to everyone – and he taught his disciples that they must live like little children before God’s love.  That is, they must never believe they’re entitled to God’s blessing.   They must always practice humility – living as if they have no authority over God – like small children in Palestine.

 

·       Do you get that?  Just because we’re adults – or Protestants or Catholics – or Jews or Gentiles or Muslims does NOT entitle us to God’s blessing.  No, the Lord shares grace and healing according to the surprising, upside-down nature of the kingdom.

And we can’t earn it – or purchase it – or negotiate for it – or demand it because we think we’re entitled:  we must become like a little child.

Conclusion

So, to help us all practice being like little children – to help the adults come to the table in humility and to help the children learn how to come to the table with respect – we’re going to practice.  We’re going to go on a small pilgrimage this morning to four different stations.

·       Everyone is invited to come forward to receive Holy Communion at the front and center of the Sanctuary.

·       Then, assuming the posture of a pilgrim, you will be asked to go to three other “bread for the journey” stations around the Sanctuary.  Helpers at each station will serve you a little bread from one of the cultures of the world they come from – and then you’ll return to the pilgrimage and move to the next station.

·       Eventually you will be served like a little child four times before returning to your seat which is your symbolic home for today.  Is that clear?  Come forward – assume the posture of a pilgrim – and move forward to be surprised and blessed by those who have come to you as “bread for the journey” of faith.

And after we’ve all moved through the stations, we’ll check in and reflect together a bit to see what blessing we discerned in the pilgrimage.  Here is our invitation to pilgrimage:

And the table will be wide. And the welcome will be wide.
And the arms will open wide to gather us in.
And our hearts will open wide to receive.

And we will come as children who trust there is enough.
And we will come unhindered and free.
And our aching will be met with bread.
And our sorrow will be met with wine.

And we will open our hands to the feast without shame.
And we will turn toward each other without fear.
And we will give up our appetite for despair.
And we will taste and know of delight.

And we will become bread for a hungering world.
And we will become drink for those who thirst.
And the blessed will become the blessing.
And everywhere will be the feast.

(Jan Richardson, The Painted Prayerbook)

How did THIS happen?

In a moment of weakness - and mercy - I relented.  Ok, so maybe I was worn down by years of quiet but insistent suggestions from Dianne - and God knows I'm emotional toast after this weekend - but somehow it happened to me again:  we now have a new puppyl.  God damn is she cute!  We don't yet have a name for her but one is brewing...

She spent the afternoon sleeping in my lap - and then harassing our old dog, Casie, while I was at Bible study - so she is already one of the family.  Already I can feel some of the crustiness fall away from my heart.  I am a total dog man - I value and respect cats but only from afar - and she is a sweet mut from a farm.  Who could ask for more!  OMG how did this happen...?

Going deeper into reverence...

In Rediscovering Reverence:  the Meaning of Faith in a Secular Age, Ralph Heintzman does yeoman's work articulating "why" religion matters.  It is both apologia in the deepest sense and a critical reflection on spiritual formation.  And what makes his work so valuable  at this moment in time is the way he articulates a "rational explanation of what the modern Western world calls religion."

+ First ,he wants to call into question the contemporary bias against religion that dominates both popular and intellectual culture because there are adults "who stand on the threshold of faith" who might benefit from clear thinking. 

They may be young people who have been raised in a household of regular religious practice, but who hesitate to commit to such a life as they grow older... (and) there maybe be others who have lived life without nourishment for the spirit and are hungry for something more (and would like to know) whether it would be reasonable for them to explore a religious life again, or for the first time.

+ Second, in a secular age where "intellectual and media opinion is overwhelmingly sceptical about religion in all forms," Heintzman wants to offer a corrective that is rational, relational and responsible.  He writes that the "objective of this book is not to persuade those who have not wish to be persuaded, but to remove some obstacles for those who have already begun to search."  Indeed, "meeting the claims of reason is part of what it means to have an adult faith."

Doing this, however, is complicated:  religious people have come to realize that while reason is necessary for an adult faith, reason alone is not the fullest expression of "the human spirit... religious life engages the heart and the will.  It grows from experience and need; not, in the first instance, from logic and objective evidence."  What's more, spirituality is a "human response to the profound mysteries that surround and inhabit human life: the mysteries of life and death, suffering and evil" as well as the very meaning of life itself. Just as you cannot explain rationally the power and beauty of art or music, so, too faith. Thus, there will always be a "gulf of some kind between the two... and the call to leap over this gulf is one of the subjects" of his book.

With intentionality and precision, Heintzman then proceeds to unpack some of the deeper truths behind words like religion and faith that have been forgotten or obscured by our obsessions with both Enlightenment and post-modern thinking.  At the core of his case are two simple truths: 

1)  Religion is a response to awe - and awe is endemic to all humanity

2) Spirituality  - or spiritual formation - is a time-tested way of nourishing habits that keep us connected to awe and reverence

As a pastor searching for ways to talk about what I hold most dear, Heintzman has given me a helpful text.  We are studying and discussing his book each Monday night at 7 pm.  Last week, in our first gathering we explored two major themes:  the paradox of our humanity and the call or reverence.  Heintzman believes that each person - and culture - wrestles always with the tension of seeking to be free and autonomous as well as staying connected in community.  We begin life in bosom of our family and find shelter, love and protection there. At the same time, however, "the joy of living in our families are at least equally balanced by the pain and the frustration, the many ways in which our families seem to restrict or limit us, the way they often refuse to respond as we would wish to our deepest desires."

So there is a tension - a paradox - between our aching for freedom and our connection to others in compassion.  "A human being who did nothing but assert his or her own needs and wishes would be little better than a brute. What makes us most fully human - that is, what makes us most fully ourselves - turns out, paradoxically, to be what connects us to others and to the wider universe."

The bias of our era is towards liberty - freedom - autonomy.  You can see it in our addiction to pleasure.  Or our fixation on business models of success and bottom line thinking. Or our willful disregard for the common good.  The organic - dare I say sacred - way to keep our drive for autonomy in balance is reverence. 

Reverence convey a human attitude of respect and deference for something larger or higher in priority than our own individual selves; something that commands our admiration and our loyalty, and may imply obligations or duties on our part. In a gesture of reverence, either physical or mental, we acknowledge superior worth, our relationship with it and our potential obligations toward it.

Awe and reverence are different - although related - and Heintzman makes a careful distinction:  "Awe is the emotion we feel when we encounter someone or something that transcends our normal life, and embodies qualities of excellence, or beauty, or some kind of power or authority that force our admiration, and to which, in some way or other, we submit ourselves..."  Reverence connections the emotional response of awe with time, memory and hope - and nourishes that initial reaction throughout a life time.  He observes:

Modern societies have lost not only reverence, but also the very idea of reverence... We go on practising the virtues of reverence and craving the feelings associated with them (for that is the human condition.) But our public language - the language of self-assertion - excludes any reference to the connecting threat that runs through them: the idea or concept - or reality - of reverence itself... and that makes it very hard for us to consciously nourish or develop the virtues... that are essential to the kind of society any of us would want to live in.

And if you believe I am mistaken, put the speech of Ann Romney next to that of Michelle Obama:  one is hyper-individualistic while the other celebrates the common good.  Same, too when considering the vision of Ayn Rand/Paul Ryan and Barack Obama:  the first argues that only freedom - super autonomy - matters while the second seeks to nourish each person within community.  Art, beauty, public roads, sewer systems, museums, public schools, hospitals, day cares, compassion, sharing , mystery and so much more are  realized only by blending our drive towards autonomy with the habits born of awe and then consciously cultivated by reverence.

Mary Oliver puts it like this in a poem entitled, "The Trees."

Do you think of them as decoration?

Think again.

Here are maples, flashing.
   And here are the oaks, holding on all winter
      to their dry leaves.
   And here are the pines, that will never fail,
      until death, the instruction to be green.
   And here are the willows, the first 
      to pronounce a new year.

May I invite you to revise your thoughts about them?
Oh, Lord, how we are all for invention and
   advancement!
But I think
   it would do us good if we would think about
these brothers and sisters, quietly and deeply.

The trees, the trees, just holding on
   to the old, holy ways.