History is the long and tragic story of the fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups are more immoral than individuals. We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. — Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (I Have a Dream: Writings & Speeches That Changed the World, p. 87)
Verse of the Day
I know your works; you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth.
– Revelation 3:15-16
Voice of the day
Love is or it ain’t. Thin love ain’t love at all.
– Toni Morrison, “Beloved” (1987)
Prayer of the day
Dear God, guide us to love fervently and authentically, steering us away from lukewarmness, so that our hearts may truly reflect deep love you desire from
“The enemies of those struggling for freedom and democracy are not man*. They are discrimination, dictatorship, greed, hatred and violence, which lie within the heart of man. These are the real enemies of man—not man himself.”—Joint statement of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Thich Nhat Hanh, Chicago, 1966
“Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.”—Anne Lamott
An excerpt from Hughes’s powerful and poetic truth-telling about the America that never was and in some circles will never be if the powers that be have their way.
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)
Nonviolence seeks to “win” not by destroying or even humiliating the adversary, but by convincing [them] that there is a higher and more certain common good than can be attained by bombs and blood. Nonviolence, ideally speaking, does not try to overcome the adversary winning over [them], but to turn [them] from an adversary into a collaborator by winning [them] over. Unfortunately, nonviolent resistance as practiced by those who do not understand it and have not been trained in it is often only a weak and veiled form of psychological aggression. — Faith and Violence, (pp.12-13)
I am doing some research and preparation for my sermon this Sunday. The passage is Mark 10:35-45. The disciples/brothers James and John ask Jesus to essentially promote them above the other disciples by giving them the right and left hand seats in glory. This is the passage that Dr King preached from in his last sermon, “The Drum Major Instinct.”
Here is a brief quote from that sermon: And the other thing is that it [the drum major instinct] causes one to engage ultimately in activities that are merely used to get attention…. They don’t feel that they are getting enough attention through the normal channels of social behavior, and others turn to anti-social behaviors in order to get attention, in order to feel important… And then the final great tragedy of the distorted personality is the fact that when one fails to harness this instinct, he ends up by trying to push others down in order to push himself up.” (I Have A Dream: Writings and Speeches That Changed the World, p. 185)
Some food for thought as I prepare to preach and as I consider the political and social climate I am experiencing today.
“In consensus, the collective does not hold discussions in order to defend a particular position but, rather, to arrive at solutions that everyone can consent to.”—Delfina Vannucci and Richard Singer, Come Hell or High Water: A Handbook on Collective Processes Gone Awry
But I cannot treat other [people as individuals] unless I have compassion for them. I must have at least enough compassion to realize that when they suffer they feel somewhat as I do when I suffer. And if for some reason I do not spontaneously feel this kind of sympathy for others, then it is God’s will that I do what I can to learn how. I must learn to share with others their joys, their sufferings, their ideas, their needs, their desires. I must learn to do this not only in the cases of those who are of the same class, the same profession, the same race, the same nation as myself, but when [individuals] who suffer belong to other groups, even to groups that are regarded as hostile. If I do this, I obey God. If I refuse to do it I disobey [God]. It is not therefore a matter left open to subjective caprice. (From New Seeds of Contemplation, in A Thomas Merton Reader, p. 323)
Once again, the prophetic message of Thomas Merton speaks to a nation and world today that is filled with hatred, fear, isolationism, and division. God knows we could use a lot more compassion and empathy in this world.
It’s been just over a year now since I retired from active ministry in my denomination, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and just over thirteen years since I retired from the US Air Force Chaplain Corps. Transitioning from full time, active ministry to retirement has been an adjustment and a blessing.
Last week my wife Denise and I were walking along one of our favorite routes where we hear lots of bird song and see various creatures including herons, an alligator, and lots of turtles. I was listening, watching, and enjoying the sights and sounds as we walked in silence. Even though it was past dawn this experience reminded me of a reflection that the Trappist Monk and Mystic, Thomas Merton wrote in his book, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander. So they wake: first the catbirds and cardinals and some that I do not know. Later the song sparrows and wrens. Last of all the doves and crows… Here is an unspeakable secret: paradise is all around us and we do not understand. It is wide open… we are off “one to his farm and another to his merchandise.” Lights on. Clocks ticking. Thermostats working. Stoves cooking. Electric shavers filling radios with static. “Wisdom,” cries the dawn deacon, but we do not attend. (Conjectures, p. 126) The wisdom found in the birdsong. The wisdom found in the glory of nature. The wisdom that I so often missed in the rush and the hurry of ministry.
In the Chaplaincy it was rush, rush, rush, go, go, go 24/7. We kept statistics to show the higher ups that we were keeping busy. We called it bean counting. Unfortunately, there was one category that was not listed nor tracked. We didn’t identify times of silence & sabbath rest. Yet those rare moments when I did slow down were moments of healing. Going back into the parish after 21 years in uniform I found out that I was able to slow down and simply be still in the midst of God’s creation.
In fact, the church I served in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado expected me to take that time to breathe and soak it all in, especially through the lens of my camera. One parishioner joked that they tried for two years to get the interim minister to dress more casually. Perhaps exchange his penny loafers for hiking shoes? It didn’t work. Yet soon after I arrived parishioners would find me dressed casually in the office, ready to go for a walk or a hike. My pictures appeared on the front cover of the church bulletin each week and people loved the fact that Denise and I had fallen in love with the Rocky Mountain National Park and our community.
Those moments were sabbath gifts to us in the midst of our very busy and sometimes hectic life in the church and the community. These were moments that sustained us in the busyness of ministry which included lots of hospital calls, comforting those who were dying, and walking with so many families and church members through the valley of the shadow of grief. It was during those moments of sabbath rest and silent contemplation that I felt my soul being nourished.
Now that I am retired, Denise and I are trying to be intentional about taking the time to simply be still. When I look back on the years of ministry in and out of uniform, I am humbled that I was able to be a part of so many lives. Sometimes I feel a twinge of sadness for the lost opportunities to truly enjoy the wonders of the world around me. But then I remember the wonderful moments when I did make time to slow down and to be still and silent. Do I wish that I had learned these lessons earlier in my ministry? Of course! Do I celebrate the moments of wonder and awe that I did experience back them? Absolutely! While it can sometimes be a challenge to be still, the journey isn’t about attaining perfection. We are a work in progress, and I believe that one of the big lessons that Spirit teaches is to be gentle with ourselves on this journey. My prayer is that each of you, dear reader, will find and embrace those opportunities to be still and know that you are loved.
Pastor Michael Moore's Blog 