Power Play

There is a point to this story. Yesterday, I went for my walk around the North Shore and this time took a different track. I crossed the bridge and went down to walk the path that runs along the Allegheny River. There is a renewing effect of being near water.

It was a great walk and as I approached the Warhol Bridge I noticed a solitary goose standing on one of the cement outcroppings along the edge of the river. Please know that I am a big fan of geese. One of my favorite sights is geese in V-formation flying overhead. I was quite pleased to see the goose and as I approached the goose turned his head, stared at me, took a slight step forward, opened his mouth and…..hissed…..yes, he hissed at me.

Now, I’ve walked past my fair share of geese and never has one ever hissed….let alone hissed at me. A honk, yes, a hiss, never.

I am not ashamed to admit that the hissing goose freaked me out. After the first hiss, I backed off and retreated. After a few minutes, I approached again and more hissing. I retreated. Another walker approached, knowing there is strength in numbers I tried to time my approach with her…aforementioned goose again stared me down. I stopped and retreated. Let it be known that a biker, a jogger, and another walker approached and I could not make my move around the hissing goose.

However, I would not be deterred. After 10 minutes of contemplating a strategy a couple approached. I made up my mind to go for it. I kept my head down, did not even acknowledge the hissing goose, and walked past in concert with the couple figuring that I had a one in three chance of the horrible hissing goose attacking someone else.

There were no attacks….however, as I walked past the couple the young man said, “So, you made it, huh? We were watching you keep trying to get past him. Good job!”

The point of this story (aside from my wuss-iness) is that my reading for the day was about how everything and everyone has power. Though seemingly gentle, the hissing goose had power over me. In many ways I also gave him that power due to my fear. It may not be how society at large defines power ---- wealth, status, ownership of stuff, position --- yet, each of us and each member of creation does have power. Ask a new mother about the power of a crying baby at 2 am. Ever watch a storm form over the ocean and come ashore? What about the one who stands her ground and will not be moved?

The thing about power is to realize you have it. I have it. Creation has it. The challenge is how do you use your power? May it be for our shared common good.

sj;

Table it

“Always room for one more,” was the lived rule of being at table in the House of Snyder. My Mom was an amazing woman who from children's artwork on the fridge, to an always-full cookie jar, to innumerable little ones soothed to sleep in the rocking chair was the very best Mom.

One of the key ways Dorothy Snyder showed her love was through food. Yes, I was loved a whole lot.
From her grandmother and her aunts, she learned that gathering together at table was a central part of being a family --- table time was a priority.

Therefore, it is not surprising that Mom’s favorite Bible story was the Risen Jesus preparing breakfast on the beach for his disciples. This post-Resurrection story concludes with Jesus instructing his disciples that if they love him to “feed and tend” one another and all the others.

I’m sure it’s due to my lineage and my upbringing, yet, my living out of my calling as an ordained minister is about setting and inviting and feeding and extending the table. If someone is hungry, feed ‘em. Make reasons for folks to gather at table. Invite everyone to table…make room and make connections. Labor so all may have enough to eat. Never meet unless you eat.

The three things people most want to hear are:
• I love you.
• I forgive you.
• Supper’s ready.

We find that when we gather together at table.

Feed and tend…..

sj;

Always stop for the street musician

For one of my daily readings, I have been using the essays of Robert Fulghum...always good stuff. One of the things Fulghum suggests is developing your own set of principles and guidelines to live by. (Mine will be forthcoming in a later blog). One of the items in his list is "Always stop for the street musicians."

Wanting to be not just a reader of Fulghum, yet, also a do-er, I've been putting this into practice. Earlier today, I needed to run an errand that took me downtown. As I walked about Smithfield Street an older gentleman had set-up a speaker and microphone for his stage on the street. With a face and a voice very much Jimmy Durante like, he approached me singing, "Do you see the gypsy in me?"....Alas, I did not.

However, he made me smile and brought a laugh which in turn two women passing me on the street also smiled and chuckled. I may not have noted the gypsy in him, yet, he was successful in his efforts: he made folks smile.

I admire street musicians for their courage and willingness to share talent out-in-the-open with folks who often may not be receptive or, worse yet, ignore them. In the bigger cities of DC and New York, I've found street musicians to have taken the art to a higher level. These folks are talented and sound great, in fact, many times persons stop just to listen.

Here in Pittsburgh, I have begun to notice the regulars. The woman who plays the violin outside of the Manor Theater in Squirrel Hill is a personal favorite. She's talented, I love violin music, and she always acknowledges each donation with a smile or a nod or a wink...or sometimes all three. There are the keyboardists, and the guitar players, the drummers banging on plastic buckets, and the folks just singing for whom or why --- it's their reason and their call.

So, the next time you pass a street musician, heed the advice of this blog, and make a point to stop, acknowledge, and, if so lead, make a donation.

I'm dusting off my kazoo to join in.....

sj;