Who?!!!?? Me??!!???

 

Twenty-nine years ago today, June 14, I was ordained. 

The service was in the gymnasium at Grove City College, location of the 1992 Western PA Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church. Bishop George Bashore presided. It was a warm, sunny, June Sunday. Following the service, my family celebrated at "Quaker Steak and Lube."

During the service was the first time I heard and sung the hymn, "Here, I Am Lord"  the lyrics of which come from the call of Samuel as highlighted in I Samuel 3. That hymn remains a personal favorite sung often during mission trip commissionings and laity Sundays. 

Being ordained has afforded me the opportunity to be present in major moments in  persons' lives. I have anointed the dying, baptized infants, been present for a person's first confession of faith, officiated at funerals working to honor the life of the deceased in ways personal and poignant. I have been the officiant for weddings where my first time I neglected to tell the congregation to "please be seated" and they stood the entire service.  The sanctuary had the tall candle holders on the end of the pews so I never noticed.  

Why someone didn't just sit down is a mystery to me, yet, I know that during morning worship if during the first hymn I did not stand up and raise my arm to invite congregants to rise, they would stay seated. I always wanted to raise my arm and then lower it, raise and lower and get a kind of congregational wave going.

A recent Gallup Survey revealed that for the first time Americans' membership in a worship community is below 50% with younger generations (Millenial and Z) reporting zero religious affiliation. 

The church has done it to ourselves.  I am not the least bit surprised of the survey results. This has been coming. 

I took the photo to the left several years ago while on vacation in Virginia; I thought it perfectly captured the institution of the church as I have experienced it. Alas, things have only gotten worse. Church leadership has become inefffectual and irrelveant in persons' lives. When a major social event such as yet another mass shooting or the backlog of immigrants at the Southern border, a majority of clergy fail to mention or address this during worship. Say something.  Even more do something. As the old saying goes, "the oppositie of love isn't hate, it's apathy." Alas, with justifiable proof too many people feel the church does not care about them.

I beleive the faith perspective needs to be offered and the faith lens utilized and shared as we debate and decide and determine our direction as communities and a shared society.  This viewpoint is vital. To do that we must be informed. To do that we must care. To do that we must be involved. 

It pains me when I frequently hear from far too many persons who say they would not be welcome in the church or that they don't go because they don't want to be stared at or have folks feel they need to be fixed. Not for the insitituion, yet, because of who we profess to be as followers of the Christ, this MUST change. 

In light of this, a final point to ponder from Episcopal Bishop Michael Curry: "The church is the only organization that exists primarily for those who are not its members." 

Water rites

 As a kid I had a scuba diver toy and I would pretend to be an underwater diver.  The depths I let my mind roam were the downstairs sink with my imagination taking me much deeper and farther to oceans abroad.  On Saturday morning cartoons my must-see was SUPER FRIENDS and my favorite superhero, Aquaman. 

As swimming season begins, I love the pool toys where the game is to throw them far and then race out, dive down and gather as many as one can.  Then, deep breath and under to bring up more. 

My childhood swimming was the Buffalo Creek and sans pool toys we played the game "Who Can Bring Up the Biggest Rock."  Same concept, yet with very limited vision due to the muddy waters and rocks of varying sizes. To be counted the rock had to be out of the water and placed on the shoreline. Competition would settle in and someone would be underwater for an anxious amount of time only to surface and sputter, "There's a huge rock, yet, I can't lift it myself. Can you help?"  Of course, we could and several bodies would dive down to the depths of the creek.

In adulthood, I have snorkled in the clear, blue waters off the Bahamas.  I was mesmerized and 15 minutes later lifted my face out of the water to find that I was a long way out to sea.  

We are drawn to water: creeks, lakes, rivers, oceans we play, pray and long to stay.

 

Today is the birthday of Jacques Cousteau hence all these ramblings about water.  Cousteau is quoted as saying, "people protect what they love."   The great Pacific Garbage Patch is an indictment on our waste and throw away society.  

Pun intended yet every reckless action we do to the environment and the waters we share has a ripple effect. the plastic garbage stretching over the waters blocks sunlight from entering the water thus stunting the growh of oceant plants and needed algae; fish digest the residue from the plastic, humans eat the fish, we all get sick.  Look to the waters for a sense of the health and vitality of the planet and take good care.

Service

 

There is a scene in the film SAVING PRIVATE RYAN that always causes me pause. It's early in the movie when the military officials arrive at the home of Mrs. Ryan. There is no dialogue, just music and the notification to a mother that her sons had been killed in the war. 

I pause because it makes me reflect on my maternal grandmother who had three sons in active duty during World War II (another son was in the CIA) and Dave, the youngest of her boys, never returned home. As the military telegram stated, "his plane was last seen trailing the formation." 

One of the wisest design features of the WWII monument in Washington DC is having carved into the walls that lead into the monument images of the sacrifices that also were made on the homefront.  Truly this was the "greatest generation" and from women going to work in the factories to the rationiong of milk, meat, eggs, gasoline and rubber the entire nation played a part. I daresay without this total effort and commitment we may not have prevailed. 

On this 77th Anniversary of the D-Day Invasion, I am proud of my maternal and paternal lines' lived examples and efforts.  I want to claim that their bloodline is mine. 

Many of the members of America's Greatest Generation have passed.  We will never see their likes again.  As we continue our collective journey through this global pandemic, we need an infusion of their spirit of sacriifice and individual actions for our shared common good. 

Today is the birthday of Marian Wright Edelman, founder and president of the Children's Defense Fund who said, "service is the rent we pay for living." My goodness.... is the rent due.