Jews, Christians and Muslims are spiritual descendants of Abraham. A biblical affirmation of faith in Deuteronomy 26:5-10 begins with a self-identification: “My ancestor was a wandering Aramean who went down into Egypt with a few people and lived there and became a great nation….”
The U.S., once proudly a nation of immigrants, inspired the French to honor us with the gift of a Statue of Liberty that graces New York Harbor, which inspired Emma Lazarus’ poem, “The New Colossus.”
The Atlantic published an article with winners from the 2024 World Press Photo Contest. Venezuelan photographer Alejandro Cegarra inspired me with his photograph, “The Two Walls.”
The upcoming closure of Birmingham-Southern College awakens memories from my years as pastor in Jackson, Tennessee (2005-2010). While there and into 2011, I was a trustee of Lambuth University. When the university’s president told an emotional student assembly that the school would close, he asked me to offer a prayer. That was tough.
A year or so earlier, at one of many fund-raising meetings with friends of Lambuth, I was introduced by a student as an alumnus. I thanked him for the honor, but said, “I’m not a Lambuth alumnus, but I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been here.” Lambuth had operated on a shoestring for decades and the Great Recession put the school over the edge.
While in Jackson, I remembered with envy the relative strength of Birmingham-Southern. Upon my return to metro Birmingham in 2010, I discovered that BSC was not as strong as in the Neal Berte era (1976-2006). Institutions do not die suddenly and, usually, death is due to multiple causes. Today, it’s difficult to be a small liberal arts college.
Lambuth became the University of Memphis– Lambuth Campus, Jackson’s first four-year public university. Closure is painful for students, faculty, staff, alumni and friends. Church-related colleges are rooted in a tradition that embraces death and resurrection. This doesn’t remove the pain, but it provides a basis for hope to face the unknown with grace.
The General Conference of the United Methodist Church will gather in Charlotte, North Carolina from April 23 through May 3. On April 10, UM News published an 11-minute video preview of General Conference by journalist Heather Hahn, a multi-media news reporter for UM News..
Hahn is a graduate of Austin College in Sherman, Texas and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism (1998). From 2000-2009, Hahn worked for two newspapers in Louisiana and Arkansas, for one year as editor of the Arkansas United Methodist Newspaper, and since 2010 she has worked for United Methodist Communications in Nashville, Tennessee (the parent of UM News).
For 14 years, Hahn has provided exemplary coverage of the complex, controversial events leading to the upcoming General Conference. No one has a clearer understanding of the issues. No one has been as consistently fair and honest about those issues. Hahn’s 11-minute video and transcript are available here: “General Conference recap: Homosexuality debate.”
On page 37 of The False White Gospel, Jim Wallis said Doug Mastriano, who lost his bid for governor of Pennsylvania, declared that America is a Christian nation and that the separation of church and state is a “myth.” Wallis cited Georgia Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene’s suggestion: “We need to be the party of nationalism and I’m a Christian and I say it proudly. We should be Christian nationalists.”
Wallis (p. 224) quoted Martin Luther King, Jr., “The church must be reminded that it is not the master of the state, not the servant of the state; but the conscience of the state.” Wallis says faith communities “have the independent ability to challenge the systems because they are based outside of them….”
Our son Rob said, “It’s ironic that right wing Christians attack Jefferson’s ‘wall of separation‘ because it’s precisely that church/state separation that created the free-market of religion that led to the flourishing, for better or worse, of Christianity in the United States in the first place.”
Birmingham’s Jerrod Bearden went to Jonesboro, Arkansas to capture this image of Monday’s total eclipse of the sun. Sometimes, a different vantage point can help see reality more clearly.
The Fourth Quarter of life brings a quiet urgency, as clearer priorities become more sharply focused.
Wednesday’s post included a brief interview with Jim Wallis, whose new book arrived yesterday. It was similar to how I felt at mid-career on September 11, 2001, when I moved my unread copy of the Quran from my office bookshelf to my briefcase. I knew Muslim relations would be an important agenda for the second half of my life as pastor, and that night I began a deep, quick dive into Islam.
The False White Gospel, by Jim Wallis, will help me during the Fourth Quarter of my life. Wallis has been consistently on target for fifty years. His prophetic, Amos-like voice challenges my Amaziah-like tendency to go-along-to-get-along. The book’s subtitle will be my Fourth Quarter agenda: Rejecting Christian Nationalism, Reclaiming True Faith, and Refounding Democracy.
Eddie Glaude, Jr.’s Foreword to The False White Gospel includes the closing words of Abraham Lincoln’s first Inaugural Address, which profoundly describe the quiet urgency needed in 2024 America:
We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
A week with Rohr and friends offered an honest look within and a hopeful look beyond scapegoating:
Human nature, when seeking power, wants either to play the victim or to create victims of others. Once we start feeling sorry for ourselves, we will soon find someone else to blame, accuse, or attack—and with impunity!
Our son Rob has begun a new blog aimed at engaging others who suffer chronic illness:
Given how research can be a demoralizing endeavor at times, having some fun distractions in the form of delving into more ‘fun’ research topics can be helpful and avoid research burnout while still keeping research skills sharp.
Blogger Rita Clagett’s poignant post “Resilience” was a cathartic read for Holy Saturday:
In the summer of 2016…. My uncle said, “He’s a loose cannon, I’ll grant you that, but once he gets in office he’ll settle down and do the job right.” My uncle didn’t live to see that his naive vision failed to transpire.
Benjamin Yazza, Untitled (detail), New Mexico, 2023, photograph, from the Center for Action and Contemplation: Who do we push outside the circle of our acceptance to sing alone on the branches of a burnt and mangled desert tree?
The content below (and the Benjamin Yazza grasshopper photo) is from Saturday’s Weekly Summary of Daily Meditations from the Center for Action and Contemplation. CAC.org meditations are available by email at no cost. “Everyday Mysticism” was last week’s theme for a team of contributors led by Richard Rohr. Each link below will take you to that day’s meditation, which might be a helpful introduction for anyone considering a free subscription to CAC’s meditations.
Sunday For me, “mysticism” simply means experiential knowledge of spiritual things, as opposed to book knowledge, secondhand knowledge, or even church knowledge. —Richard Rohr
Monday I’m describing mysticism as a natural part of everyday life … just a deep understanding of the sacred and a willingness to allow the gifts to lead. —Barbara A. Holmes
Tuesday Today, we are not looking for colossal mysteries like the parting of the seas. We just want to tap into, or at least recognize, everyday mysticism. —Barbara A. Holmes
Wednesday Everyday mystics are people who commune with the presence of God, receive guidance, … and commit themselves to living for God rather than solely for themselves. Their vision for life is larger and more expansive, knowing that they are alive for a reason, a purpose that will benefit human spirits they may never meet. —Lerita Coleman Brown
Thursday I can set a little altar, in the world or in my heart. I can stop what I am doing long enough to see where I am, who I am there with, and how awesome the place is. I can flag one more gate to heaven. —Barbara Brown Taylor
Friday The mystical heart knows there is a fellow Fisherman nearby who is always available for good advice. He stands and beckons from the shores, at the edges of every ordinary life, every unreligious moment, and every “secular” occupation. —Richard Rohr
For me, old age has arrived relatively slowly and gently (so far). However, its velocity increases. On Monday, I thought the stock market was closed and the mail wouldn’t be delivered on Presidents Day. Cathey mentioned a stock transaction just as I saw the postal carrier at our mail box. I assured myself that I wasn’t confused, just disoriented. (Note to self: Presidents Day is February 19th.)
Walter Brueggemann helps me with aging. He sees in the Bible a rhythm of orientation, disorientation and reorientation. One example is Adam and Eve in the Garden, where a blessed equilibrium was disrupted by a sudden awareness of nakedness, restored when God provided suitable clothing for the First Couple after their not-so-smart choice of sandpaper-like fig leaves for loin cloths.
Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, is a time for reorientation, for remembering who we are, where we are and what time it is. As my illusion of self-reliance fades, I need some reorientation.
According to Myers-Briggs, I’m uber intuitive and dull-as-a-post sensing. My intuitive side can get carried away when I wonder “What if…?” I happily support the Biden-Harris team. I don’t think Biden is too old. I’m old. Ike was the first president I remember. He was 62 when elected in 1952. I’ve only known one president who was my junior–Barack Obam, by eleven years. He’s just 62 now.
My intuitive self always asks the “What if?” questions, even when I try to avoid them. Like: What if Biden for whatever reason withdraws? Harris (in my opinion) is an obvious choice. So, who would then be the vice presidential nominee? In a fantasy world, sometimes its fun to “go big or go home.” What if such a scenario produced Amy Klobuchar as the Democratic VP nominee?
I’m on a roll, so hang with me. I’m rooting for Nikki Haley to be the Republican presidential nominee, which is universally regarded as impossible. When Nixon-Agnew were elected by a landslide in 1972, who could have imagined it would morph into Ford-Rockefeller, without a vote being cast? If Haley pulls off an epic upset, who would be her running mate? What if it could be Liz Cheney?
Relax your grip on reality for a moment–imagine floating in the surf on a warm, calm day, serenaded by Jimmy Buffett in a wondrous “What if?” world. Imagine what a series of Haley-Harris and Cheney-Klobuchar debates would be like. Could it invigorate our nation? Could it both clarify issues and facilitate an escape ramp from the bondage of cultic polarization?
From Why I like Ike, by Gilbert A. Robinson, a paperback book published in 2012 by the youngest member of the Dwight Eisenhower administration (1953-1961).
The sub-title of Diane McWhorter’s Carry Me Home is Birmingham: The Climactic Battle of the Civil Rights Revolution. It was published in 2001, won the 2002 Pulitzer Prize in General Nonfiction, and was updated in 2013. She was born in 1952 and grew up in Birmingham. We’ve been listening to the excellent 29-hour audio version. This was gleaned from the Epilogue:
McWhorter sought to convey “the complex molecular structure of a city that contained both the best and the worst of America.” She said, “The civic DNA has been passed from the parents to the children, and now it is our turn, the grown daughters and sons of the epoch, to take its imprint, invisible at the time, and through example and action, make of it a living language of historical memory.”
She wrestles with the question, “What are we going to do?” She says, “That is the moral of the story. The corpses of that past gave meaning to the lives of people (like her) who started out on the other side of the story. … Robert Penn Warren described the merger of the personal with the public, the individual with history…. The network of mutuality happily remains inescapable.”
ted.today 