What Do You Remember?

What do you remember?  having an 88 year old Mom with Alzheimer's I realize how important and at time poignant question that can be.  Mom can't remember what she had for dinner last night, but she still remembers details about her childhood, and, fortunately, who her own children are.  Even her eight grandchildren.  She does get a bit fuzzy about the eleven great-grandchildren, and she may not even remember she has one great-great.

She probably can tell you who the president is, she's followed current events fairly closely over the last couple of decades, but I am not sure she knows who the VP is.  Memory is a fragile thing, and intentionally or not, often very selective.  I think that is part of the reason why we set aside certain days to remember important events and people.  Days like Memorial Day.

As many of my readers know, and others may have long since intuited, I am a pacifist.  I am opposed to war.  But I still think it is important for us to remember and honor those who made, as we call it, the ultimate sacrifice.  I think it is important for a variety of reasons, not least of which is that it is a regular reminder that war comes at a great cost.  Not just to the enemy.  Not just to our own nation.  But to real families just like yours and mine.  Moms and Dads, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, who can't forget, don't want to forget, their loved ones who died in battle, who died in service. Memorial Day can and should prompt us to ask, how many more lives must be given over to war?   It is certainly my hope that in those memories we can find the key to peace, for without days like today, we can too easily forget.

First World Problems

Right at the moment there are two tile workers in my bathroom here to fix my new walk-in shower which was improperly installed when it was originally put in place.  The tile on the floor was all at the wrong pitch.  Or actually, at no pitch.  So water built up on it by the end of a shower and had to be squeegeed off.  So they are resetting the tile at a slight angle, thereby directing water flow down the drain.

The fellow who originally laid the tile was a new member of the crew, and very young and inexperienced.  The owner of the company is doing this reset himself.  He wants to make sure he ends up with a happy customer.  He gave me no hassle when I first called and told him of the problem.  And it is being done at no cost to my wife and me.  That is except for the inconvenience of not having a functioning shower for a few days.  But we'll manage! 

Our improperly laid tile shower floor is what some folks would call a first-world problem.  And so it is.  I can't help but think of the folks in Gaza and to a lesser extent in Israel, who are faced with far more serious rebuilding issues.  Many if not most of them don't have the resources needed to undertake such projects.  Nor are they covered by a warranty.  I suspect they aren't even covered under whatever insurance policies they may or may not have.  Acts of war rarely are!
  

As a white, middle class, male American I am very prone to forgetting just how fortunate I am.  I am prone to forget that I didn't do anything to earn that good fortune.  I didn't choose to be male, or American, or white--arguably I didn't even choose to be middle class.  But I am all of those things.  And as a result I am privileged.  I would be wise to remember that next time I am tempted to complain about my shower floor.  At least I still have a roof over my head--that and a whole lot more!

Heart Broken and Tongue Tied

I'll be honest with you.  I want to write about what's going on in Gaza and Israel.  I want to say something profound about the value of human life, no matter the religion, the ethnicity or the nationality of any particular individual.  I want to say, "Knock it off!"  But I just don't know how.

Partly that's because I feel underinformed about the whole matter.  I've been to Israel, twice.  I've been to the border with Gaza.  I've seen the wall and been stopped by Palestinian and Israeli soldiers in crossing between the two regions.  I have met Muslims, Jews and Christians in the region who are working on the ground for peace. I've read a fair amount about the issue.  But it still feels too complex to address in any meaningful way.

And maybe that's the problem.  It is complicated.  And it does feel like no matter what one says somebody will be upset, somebody will feel you are being unfair.  Maybe that's why peace talks have inevitably fallen apart in the region.  Maybe I'm not the only one who doesn't know what to say, how to address the issue.

One thing I do know for sure.  Lives are being lost.  Innocent lives.  Palestinian lives and Israeli lives.  And property is being destroyed, laid to ruin.  And none of this in the long run can do much to advance the cause of peace.  Violence, as I see it, only begets violence.  Not an original thought--but at the moment it's all I've got to offer.  That and my prayers.  My deeply felt and sincerely offered prayers.

The Year of the Apocalypse!

The Greek word apkalypsis is at the root of the English word apocalypse.  It means to uncover that which is hidden.  While the world didn't come to a crashing halt, while the Second Coming didn't happen, this has truly been an apocalyptic year.  For much has been covered.  Much has been revealed.

As most readers of this blog already know, I am preparing to retire in about eleven months.  As part of that preparation process I belong to a clergy group made up of folks facing that same life passage.  We meet once a month and share prayer, a bit of meditation, readings about retirement, and discussion around a variety of related issues.

This week our facilitator asked us to think about what author Larry Smith calls Six Word Memories.  How would we describe this past Covid year in just six words?  It was a bit of a challenge, but I finally came up with this:  "Who knew how much was hidden?"

Over the course of the year Covid19 exposed so much!  So many things were revealed in my personal life, in the life of my congregation, and in the wider world.  Good things, and challenges.  Things that had been there all along, but were only uncovered when so much was stripped away by the pandemic.  On a large scale, we saw how climate change became more real, as the environment got a breather during the lockdown.  We were reminded of the inequities in society as people struggled with economic hardship.  We were forced to admit that some of the most essential jobs were and are some of the least financially regarding jobs.  We saw how racial matters have not all been resolved.  And on and on.

Our congregation discovered holes in our technology, and the need to integrate more of it  into our work.  We also discovered that certain folks are always willing to step up--no matter what's going on!

On a more personal level, I was shown just how vital to my life my wife is as she was forced by quarantines and so on to stay in New York for three months.  I recognized that as much as I love my work, it would be okay to finally consider retirement and make plans for it.  And so much more.  It has indeed, been apocalyptic!

Who knew how much was hidden?

Growing in Faith

This past weekend I officiated at both a baptism and a funeral service.  The baptism was for my Great Grand Niece, who is now all of four month's old.  The funeral was for a parishioner who died shortly

after her first great grandchild was born.  Margaret was born in 1929.

Both ends of the spectrum.  One a celebration rooted in hope and dreams for the future, as Dacianna Lee Meher begins her journey of faith.  The other rooted in thanksgiving for the life of Margaret who has completed that journey.  Funny, isn't it, how both of these services can prompt tears?  Tears of joy, tears of sorrow--and tears of gratitude.

I was very blessed to have known Margaret, she was such a fine soul!  And I look forward to getting to know Dacianna as she grows into the person she will become.  

This coming Sunday we will celebrate a Service of Confirmation, as young people in our congregation affirm their decision to make the Way of Jesus their own.  One of the promises they will make is "to grow in the Christian faith." 

I guess, in the end, that really is what this life is all about.  Growling in faith, growing in hope, growling in love.  Knowing Margaret, knowing Dacianna, knowing our confirmands, has certainly helped me to grow as well!

(Photo:  Dacianna Lee Meher and Uncle John.)