I am remembering a moment, a Christmas Eve in the living room, putting a massive toy of some sort together, as quietly as possible.  It’s something I wanted to get done quickly, it was late and I knew the boys would be up before dawn, wanting to get into the presents.  I was tempted to simply look at the picture on the package and build from that, except that this clever manufacturer had printed instructions that began with: “Please follow the instructions carefully, the designers and manufacturers of this product wish to do everything in their power to ensure your enjoyment and safety.” 

“…to ensure your enjoyment and safety.”

And I had another epiphany.  It was about something that had been in the news during that Christmas Season: The Ten Commandments.  Some city somewhere what’s going through some sort of thing about a stone in front of the courthouse and a manger scene and a menorah, or something.  Anyway I had either forgotten or suddenly realized the Ten Commandments (the Decalogue) are a prime example of “the Designer/Manufacturer’s…wish to do everything in His power to ensure our enjoyment and safety.”

The “Big Ten”, and even more so, “The Sermon on the Mount” are patterns for life in this time & place, written and “illustrated/acted out” by the One who created this time and place…and holds it together, with our help.  Said another way, “If you want enjoyment and safety here on earth…do this”.

Following rules and guidelines set by God aren’t exactly how we transition into the age-to-come. Jesus makes that clear.  Jesus says it is by our faith that we are restored by the grace of His Father.  It is a gift from His Father and our Father that we can be restored to the ideal created in Eden, and remain close to God, in THIS age and into the age-to-come.

We don’t stand next to the Father and walk with Him through eternity because of who WE are, but because of who HE is.

Jesus spent His time as a Teacher on earth trying to re-explain, clear up misconceptions and help us see His Father in a new light.  He was clear in what was, and is, expected of those who BELIEVE & FOLLOW, but His emphasis was on active love between each other…in response to the great gift given to us by His Father, NOT as some sort of test to see if we should “get into heaven.”

The TEN COMMANDMENTS and THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT make practical sense in this created world.  These are the “directions” for living well, with our Creator and with each other.  I’d go so far as to say, even the most spiritually-insensitive could benefit from living in this world according to these words and guidelines.

But again, these words are about LIFE, in the here-and-now. These words aren’t the “magic potion” that “gets us to the age-to-come. The Apostle Paul was also clear that we all fail.  We fail on purpose and innocently.  And when we do, Jesus stands to defend us as someone who has worn our skin, seen with our eyes, and walked our path.  The fear of disappointing and offending God, which many of us grew up with, is something that doesn’t necessarily (or always) come from God. However, we should appropriately fear and respect a Being with the power to obliterate even our very souls with a blink of His eye…and yet chooses not to.

Does God sit in heaven, yearly “going over the books” and writing or erasing each of our names according to our deeds, good and bad?  I honestly am not there to witness that or see it.  I can only tell you what the scripture, the Spirit, and my own experience with God tells me: He would race across the universe to merely give us a hug.  He is completely and totally wrapped up in us…for us, it’s all about God, and for God life is completely about us.

His concern is not only that we are with Him and He is with us, forever…but also that we LIVE that “full life” starting now, in the HERE-and-now…so that we can continue to enjoy that life in the age-to-come.

Our Father, the Creator (Manufacturer), has designed the world we live in. He has given us instructions in both the Old and New Testaments…and has given us the Spirit to continually teach, guide, and empower us to live, to really LIVE, now…and “across the Jordan”. 

And we can LIVE, a embarrassingly extravagant life…by following the Designer & Manufacturer’s instructions to ensure our enjoyment and safety…in a better world.

Warner Elias Sallman, a first-generation American (his parents were immigrants from Finland and Sweden), sang in his local church choir in Chicago.  It was there he met his wife, Ruth in 1916.  He was an artist who apprenticed with some of the best local illustrators and painters during the day, while attending the Chicago Art Institute at night.  In 1924 he was commissioned by a denominational magazine for a charcoal sketch of the head of Jesus.

Using a physical description of Jesus, supposedly written by a Publius Lentulus (Roman Consul during the reign of Augustus, and Governor of Judea prior to Pontius Pilate), Warner followed the description set out by the letter and sketched a head.  Here is an excerpt from the letter (there are several questions about its authenticity, however, it is the only physical description available):

“…He is a man of medium size, he has a venerable aspect, and his beholders can both fear and love him. His hair is of the color of the ripe hazel-nut, straight down to the ears, but below the ears wavy and curled, with a bluish and bright reflection, flowing over his shoulders. It is parted in two on the top of the head, after the pattern of the Nazarenes. His brow is smooth and very cheerful with a face without wrinkle or spot, embellished by a slightly reddish complexion. His nose and mouth are faultless. His beard is abundant, of the color of his hair, not long, but divided at the chin…”

A few years later he turned his several sketches into an oil painting, he was asked to replicate that painting for another group, and executives from The Warner Press Company (publishing arm of The Church of God) first saw it then.  Warner Press created an arm of their company, which would own the copyrights and distribute copies of the painting.  For the next 30 years Sallman’s HEAD OF CHRIST was distributed throughout the world.  Churches, clubs, service organizations all used this remarkable portrait.  The USO printed small copies to be given to every soldier, sailor and airman who enlisted.  Eventually it become the most recognized and popular picture of Jesus known.  Warner Press eventually acquired total rights to this and some 100 other well-known, and not-so-well-known paintings, sketches and illustrations by Warner Sallman…and all of them, including the HEAD OF CHRIST, are right her in Anderson, Indiana where Anderson University regularly displays them in their galleries.

For many, this is the picture that comes to mind when someone says the name, “Jesus”.  It is the product of a questionable description and a gifted Christian artist…but it is not Jesus.

This beautiful painting should serve as a reminder, to all who believe and follow, that God is not to be so narrowly defined that we would refuse to get to know Him.  The scripture, specifically the Gospels in the books of the New Covenant, remind us that Jesus-in-the-flesh stepped into a church that had SO NARROWLY defined God that they not only didn’t recognize Him when He stepped into their church, THEY CONSIDERED HIM THEIR ENEMY.  The church spends a lot of time defining God, refining His mind, His preferences, His “rules”…so much so, that any time God does something out-of-the-ordinary (“para physin”, as Paul would say) or blesses/calls/sends/anoints someone whom other “Christians” would consider inappropriate…then they/the church once again has created God in ITS image, and not visa versa.

The vastness of greatness and personality, the unfathomable mercy, love and grace that comes from our Heavenly Father is, to our minds, limitless…surprising…uncomfortable.  And that is as it should be.  We who “Believe & Follow: need to be reminded that is our calling: to BELIEVE and FOLLOW, but not to define and lead-by-proxy.  God will love and bless whom He loves and blesses.  He will call into His Kingdom anyone of His choosing.  He is not defined by our limited understanding of love, mercy or justice.  He is not to be framed into the narrowness of an “image” or painting, but He IS to be sought after as a friend who surprises us daily with new facets of His personality.

Creative and visual learners will continually look to define, visually,  concepts and people, to define our thought and philosophy.  But when it comes to assuming what God does and does not think, we should tread very, very carefully, trust the Spirit, and measure against the Scripture… 

…because we don’t want to be a congregation that has Warner Sallman’s HEAD OF CHRIST hanging in the narthex but wouldn’t recognize Jesus if he stood among us during our post-worship Coffee Hour.

Our calling is to BELIEVE Jesus is who He says He is,
and to FOLLOW Him, wherever He chooses to lead us.
Let JESUS be JESUS and trust Him to define Himself.

…that is how we become & identify as BELIEVERS & FOLLOWERS.

“I don’t believe in God anymore,” I overheard her say to a friend on the phone, while we were both in line at KROGER, “I just know too many hypocrites.” 

I was so happy to have a theme for my BLOG that I didn’t turn around and say, “So if you saw a man walking on the streets of Anderson with bad hair, would you stop believing in barbers, too?” 

Seriously, when John Hinckley tried to assassinate President Reagan, in an effort to appease the actress Jodi Foster, did anyone blame JODI FOSTER?  I know it’s difficult, because for many people Christians are the only reflection of God they see – but please, let’s not blame God for some (not all) of His followers.

This overheard conversation was on the heels of another that I was a part of, just days before, where an acquaintance stated that they had stopped going to their church, after 2019/2020, because they don’t like the new Pastor.  That all may be true, and his Pastor may indeed be a moron…but is worship/faith/congregational life about the Pastor…or the sanctuary…or hypocrites…or the worship style?

On the other hand, is WORSHIP/CHURCH-GOING and BELIEF something we sigh and shoulder, like medicine, or in-laws, or spin class?  Absolutely not.  Belief/ Worship should unlock doors, unclip wings, open windows…and, in short, set us free!

Unfortunately, Belief and Worship are so strongly tied to individual paradigms, preferences, history and deep-seated emotion that it is difficult to separate all of that from what Worship actually requires.

You and I have songs which suddenly stir up memories and cause us to feel secure, safe, loved…and we want to hear that song in worship (for some it’s AMAZING GRACE and others, LORD, I LIFT YOUR NAME ON HIGH)…it’s what makes worship wonderful for us.  However, does my pew-mate, who doesn’t have MY history or sentiment, feel the same way?  Of course not.  My world does not necessarily define THEIR world.

One congregation, where I ministered, had an extraordinarily-great Sacred Dance team; professional and beautiful.  Sitting on the same pew, experiencing the same worship moment of dance, one parishioner said that she had a problem with dance in the sanctuary because dance was “of the devil”, as she had been taught.  In the same pew was a deaf worshipper who said that she was always thrilled when we had dance because it was the ONE part of worship that didn’t need to be “interpreted” for her.  

The woman who didn’t enjoy the dance realized the truth that dance isn’t “of the devil”, but her paradigm and history with dance colored her perception of it in worship, it was generational and based on childhood experience and teaching.  The non-hearing worshiper, who had no other experience in church, had no such preconceptions.  The first lady wasn’t going to leave the church or stop worshiping because she didn’t enjoy the dance, and the second wasn’t defining ALL of worship by her emotional tie to dance, and limited personal experience of worship…I think BOTH were wise in their decisions. 

I like hamburgers (I get that from my Dad), and I mourn that red meat no longer likes me.  But, in the day, I preferred BURGER KING over McDONALDS, when it came to burger prep.  On the other hand, McDONALDS had BURGER KING beat when it came to milk shakes and fries (in MY opinion).  BOTH franchises sell burgers but the rest is up to personal preference, or what “speaks to me” (shakes and fries DO speak to me).

I prefer worship like ours at Central, with scripture, prayer, hymns from the hymnal, communion, pipe organ and some good tradition.  Somewhere in town, however, is a church that doesn’t own any hymnals, the Pastor might read one scripture and the songs go on, one after another, for 30-45 minutes…after that the Pastor preaches for an hour…and the congregation LOVES it.  Both congregations worship (that’s the burger), but one congregation prefers their worship (burger) with ketchup and the other with mayo.  Is one correct and the other wrong?  No.  If one is unhappy with their worship should they cease believing?  No.  Should they find a worship pattern that speaks to them?  Yes.  As long as they’re serving burgers¸ then it’s just a matter of finding the way one likes it prepared.

When a worshiper sits in worship unhappy and tense because they don’t like the songs, the pastor, the “style”…should they stop believing in worship?  Of course not…what they don’t like isn’t “worship”, it’s the peripherals.

When a person labeling themselves as “Christian” treats another human being in a manner that would make Jesus wanna slap ‘em upside the head…should we stop believing in God?  Of course not, the problem isn’t God, it’s the Follower.

At the heart of “Belief” AND “Worship” are the same elements: Spirit & Truth / Heart & Mind.  Everything else is flexible.  Everything else is commentary.  Everything else is a “condiment.”

JOHN 4:7-26
A woman of Samaria came to draw water.
“Give Me a drink,” Jesus said to her, for His disciples had gone into town to buy food.
“How is it that You, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a Samaritan woman? ” she asked Him.
For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.
Jesus answered, “If you knew the gift of God, and who is saying to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would ask Him,
and He would give you living water.”
“Sir,” said the woman, “You don’t even have a bucket, and the well is deep. So where do You get this ‘living water’?
You aren’t greater than our father Jacob, are You? He gave us the well and drank from it himself,
as did his sons and livestock.”
Jesus said, “Everyone who drinks from this water will get thirsty again.
But whoever drinks from the water that I will give him will never get thirsty again — ever!
In fact, the water I will give him will become a well , of water springing up within him for eternal life.”
“Sir,” the woman said to Him, “give me this water so I won’t get thirsty and come here to draw water.”
“Go call your husband,” He told her, “and come back here.”
“I don’t have a husband,” she answered.
“You have correctly said, ‘I don’t have a husband,’” Jesus said.
“For you’ve had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true.”
“Sir,” the woman replied, “I see that You are a prophet.
Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, yet you Jews say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.”
Jesus told her, “Believe Me, woman, an hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You Samaritans worship what you do not know. We worship what we do know, because salvation is from the Jews. But an hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth. Yes, the Father wants such people to worship Him. God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.”
The woman said to Him, “I know that Messiah, is coming” (who is called Christ).
“When He comes, He will explain everything to us.”

“I am He,” Jesus told her, “the One speaking to you.”

It’s possible that many have never heard of Herb & Dorothy Vogel.  Herb was a Postal Worker in Manhatten (he passed away fourteen years ago), and Dorothy (who passed away only last year) a reference librarian in Brooklyn.  They were a quiet, cute couple (as described by friends) she was “bookish” and he “cuddly”.  They lived for 50 years in a 450-square-foot apartment in NYC, Herb never made any more than $23k-a-year.  And they never used any of his income to live off of…just hers, which was less…minimal.  They lived simply, ate TV Dinners, didn’t indulge in much except for some pets and one other hobby, which they were passionate about…art.

Herb had some training in Art History/Appreciation, as a young man, and introduced Dorothy to the art world (she was a theatre-music gal) on their honeymoon in Washington, DC (1962).  Through the years they slowly, carefully bought art they loved.  They were not investors nor art dealers, they simply found pieces they both enjoyed and made sure that they purchased them at a “good price”.  Along the way they made friends with several of the artists from whom they purchased: twentieth century painters in need of money…for the most part…thus, the “good deals”.  They only purchased things that they would want up on their walls, and could transport on the subway.  They also went about their hobby with a plan, they educated themselves along the way, they enjoyed their friendships with the artists…and continued to live quiet, frugal, unassuming lives.

It was in the ‘80’s that they realized their lifelong passion of collecting could not be housed in their apartment…so they decided to donate.  Herb had already retired, and when Dorothy retired in 1990 they gave their collection to the National Gallery (strikingly, where Herb had first introduced Dorothy to art appreciation) because the gallery was free to the public and has a policy against “deaccessioning”, meaning their art would never be sold.

Workers from the National Gallery came to NYC and unloaded an unbelievable 2400 works from the Vogel apartment in 5 40-foot trucks.  When the gallery realized that the Vogels had not invested, they paid the Vogels an annuity as a “thank you” for their donation…which the Vogels promptly used to purchase more art…they couldn’t help it, it was their passion.

“If we wanted to make money, we would have invested in the stock market.” said Dorothy. 

Their collection is now considered to be the most important collection of 20-century art in the United States…and what the curator of the National Gallery calls, irreplaceable and priceless.

“Ars Gratia Artis” a Latin phrase translated from a French philosophic idea (art pour l’art) and translated into English as “Art for Art’s Sake” sums up their belief that art speaks for itself and beauty is worth investing in, simply for the sake of preserving beauty. You’ve probably seen this Latin phrase often, if you’ve ever watched a film produced by MGM…it’s on their logo, in the ribbon that surrounds their famous lion.

I found this story incredible on many levels, as an artist and a Believer.

The VOGELS followed their God-given passion.  Although I know nothing of their spiritual lives except that they were/are by ethnicity, Jewish.  Their story shows that God gave them a passion that they followed…against the odds.  They were not the “type” of people others in the world might view as “art collectors”…they didn’t care.  They did what they believed in and let others think what they would.

The VOGELS made a plan and worked the plan.  They didn’t just jump in “willy-nilly”. They educated themselves in their passion.  They methodically, economically and prudently enjoyed the fruit of their love of art.  So many Believers/Followers seem to think that God does NOT work hand-in-hand with our minds and heart…that once a passion (a sermon idea, a song, a project) is planted by Him in our hearts that we then just sit back and listen to His instructions and become robots to His suggestions…which is not evident in ANY place in the scripture or ANY life illustration we see today.  God implants a vision/passion and asks us to partner with Him, to hone our skills, to learn and use our brains to polish and construct what He has given us.

The VOGELS left a legacy of beauty…even though THAT was not necessarily a part of THEIR plan.  In the end were they shocked to hear that their small apartment housed the greatest gift of 20^th-Century art anywhere in the United States…that will be enjoyed by millions for years to come?  Did they understand that their belief in artists who were NOT getting the attention of critics at the time, inspired those artists to more greatness?  Did they write that down as part of their methodical plan…no.  But God-given passion* (*and love of things beautiful, good and true ALWAYS comes from God, to the Believer and the Non-Believer alike…God does NOT discriminate)is like all energy, power that does not dissipate.

The Kingdom Principle of a seed becoming a tree is evident in this story as well.

What does this mean for me?  It reminds me to: Follow my God-Given passion, use my God-given mind to carve and polish, and know that love of what is good, beautiful and true is never wasted once I’m gone. 

Then I heard a voice from heaven saying,
“Write: The dead who die in the Lord from now on are blessed.”

“Yes,” says the Spirit, “let them rest from their labors, for their works follow them!”
REVELATION 14:13

Miss LaClaire, Miss Just, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Van Dyke, Mrs. Goranson, Mrs. Stankman, Mr. McNamara.  When Graduation comes around I go through these names and memories again.  I may not remember everything they ever taught but I remember every name and face of the teachers I had through Grade School (6th Grade).  And when I read the paper and see the names and faces of those Graduating I find it difficult to put my trust in these young kids…if it wasn’t the trust I had in their educators. 

If I can remember each name of each teacher I had in those “formative” years AND the names of most, if not all of my Middle School, High School and University teachers…they must have had SOME impact.  I thank God for those who teach.  It is sometimes a thankless but glorious job to stand at the gate and train those who must pass through to the next leadership time.  At times I have an epiphany and think that my parents weren’t so crazy after all when they mourned about MY generation and I think of this great quote:

“I’m trying very hard to understand this generation. They have adjusted the timetable for childbearing so that menopause and teaching a sixteen-year-old how to drive a car will occur in the same week.”- Erma Bombeck (U.S. humorist, 1927-1996)

But as much as I remember (or don’t) about those that taught me to read, write, add and subtract…it’s these names that I remember more, and hold even closer to my heart…Pearl Mohler, Delpha Reiboldt, Della Nunez, June Clinebell, Violet Van Hoose, Jean Martin, Eloise Woods…These were my Sunday School teachers from the time I was in the Nursery through my High School years, at HIGHLANDS CHURCH OF GOD in Kennewich, Washington.  These women not only taught me the stories of Scripture (using everything from flannel graphs to play dough and puppets) but they LOVED me and when I was at my home church, I was as much at home as I was with my parents in our home.  To those remarkable people, all gone except for one now, I give thanks to God.

As the years run by and each new “class” walks through the pages of the Herald Bulletin and through the halls of Central Christian Church, let’s thank God for the people He has placed in our children’s path, to teach, train and lead.  Let us always pray for our children’s safety and wisdom for teachers.

As much as we may shake our heads at some of the things we see with each generation, it is good to know that some things haven’t changed in a millennium, and through those years, teachers were always held as precious:

“What nobler employment, or more valuable to the state, than that of the man who instructs the rising generation?” Marcus Tullius Cicero (Ancient Roman Lawyer, Writer, Scholar, Orator and Statesman, 106 BC-43 BC)

“Thank you.”  To all at Central who teach, who have taught, who will teach.  I also thank those who teach our own Church small groups, as well as those who have taught and are teaching in the public school system…God smiles on you.

“Teach the youth about the way they should go;
even when they are old they will not depart from it.”
PROVERBS 22:6

On a recent trip there was a moment we were surrounded, on all sides, by families with children.  As I age, I have a “love/hate” relationship with crowds.  I like to watch people, especially from other cultures, all together, vacationing: multiple languages, ages…I find that entertaining.  On the other hand, especially the older I get, I am not a fan of crowds.  I still like to be around people, but more and more I like to be on the outside looking in, rather than the middle.

My favorite pastime is observing and learning from human nature, and so, as in any vacation, I found a spot where I could sit and observe.  I love watching people interact, I love multiple cultures together in one place (family and friend dynamics don’t seem to change with the culture or language) and I ALWAYS find: if you’re searching for God to speak to you, He will. 

I sat and watched, on a crowded boulevard, as literally hundreds of families, couples, singles passed by shops and cafes.  Some were families, some couples, some singles, some groups of teens or groups of men, groups of women.  I could hear English, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, some Russian, and some German (or Dutch?)…in any case it was a beautiful sight…from a distance.

The children are especially fun to watch, and parenting, even within one ethnic group and/or age, is always a source of conversation. In this case, there were lots of kids.  I began watching one small boy in particular.  He was small, maybe 4 or 5 years old.  He was Italian (I recognized, though could not translate, the language).  He was seemingly alone…that’s why I kept an eye on him – to see if any parent or sibling was nearby.  He had been distracted by a very colorful car, and was looking in to see if he could get inside.

Suddenly, as if realizing he was in a sea of strangers, some 6 people deep, he stopped and looked around – turning quickly one way and then the other – as his face turned from joy to panic.  I could see from his face he was about to cry, feeling what HE wouldn’t have been able to label, but I could – abandonment.

He shouted at the top of his little lungs, “Papa!”  Again and again, turning, looking, eyes wide with a little fear.  It all happened in an instant, but probably seemed like ages to him.

Then, the tall young father, who had been standing some 2 feet away, his back turned, turned around and their eyes locked.  The little boy stepped to him, and the man easily lifted him up, kissed him and said one of the few Italian words I could translate: “Sono qui.” (“I am here.”).

In a flash, and with yet another thankful prayer to the Spirit, I saw a “life picture” of mine, which has played over and over:

I pull away.

I am surrounded by the crowd of strangers.

I feel danger.

I feel abandoned.

I cry out…

…only to find that God has never left my side.

He lifts me up, kisses me and says, “I am here.”

This season of life, both mine and ours (in this time and place) I need to remember that I may pull away, but HE never does.  As close as a hand, a hug…and a kiss…is my Jesus. 

This is an exciting year! It has been 250 years since the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4, 1776. Since that day, our nation has been cast as “the land of the free and the home of the brave.” The Revolutionary War that began against England shortly thereafter was indeed a declaration of independence from excessive taxation, from a government that ignores the voice of the people, from religious intolerance, from oppressive denial of individual rights, from unfair trade and tariffs, from edicts issued by the Monarchy…to name a few issues. Therefore, for 250 years, our ancestors as well and you and I can proclaim “I’m free…”

Being a lover of history (which is my college degree), and an avid family genealogist by hobby, I am humbled by the number of my direct paternal and maternal ancestors who served in the Revolutionary War…as well as their siblings, uncles, cousins…. These ancestors fought for the privilege of not only stating “I’m Free…” but also living and experiencing those freedoms right now.

My 4th great grandfather Robert Rickett served in the Maryland militia and so did his father-in-law Richard Allison, my 5th great grandfather.

Also, “I’m free” because of ancestors who fought in other wars.

Having been reared in the South, I had numerous ancestors who served in the Confederacy, but one ancestor, a man by the name of Jeremiah Jenkins, one of my maternal fourth great grandfathers, deserted the Confederacy, came north to Pendleton, Madison County, Indiana, where he joined the 8th Indiana, and fought for the Union until the end of the war. He came back to Vincennes, IN, met and married a lady from nearby Illinois, and they settled in Evansville, IN until 1879 when they moved back to the North Carolina mountains. Incredibly, on June 22 1900, 35 years after the war, a southern sympathizer killed him.

My fourth great Grandmother Ellender Allison Rickett (who settled from Maryland to North Carolina in the 1790s)’ had two siblings who settled with their families in Monroe and Owen Counties, Indiana before 1820. One of those siblings had a grandson, Lt. James W Archer, who fought in the Civil War, enlisting in Owen County IN. He was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor as he took leadership during a fierce battle after higher ranking officers were killed or wounded… And therefore, our ancestors, in some way, regardless of which “side”, continued to pass on the privilege in which all Americans may declare “I’m free….”

I have in my possession a book entitled “May These Lines Reach Your Kind Hands” by Charles Rich. which is composed of numerous letters exchanged between Martha Henley Poteet, (sister of my great, great grandmother Sarah Henley Rickett), and her husband Marion Poteet, a Confederate soldier. This book title comes from a quote from a letter from Martha to her husband Marion in 1864, detailing not only their strong marital bond, but also the desolation and ruin caused by the long months of separation, describing the harsh difficulty of a mother with nine children from a baby to age 15,, barely able to farm alone, losing livestock to passing soldiers, and the sheer effort to grow and preserve garden produce for the long winter months. This family did not own slaves, and thus Marion Poteet was conscripted for three years into the NC military…which was aligned with the Confederacy. O, how both husband and wife yearned to be able to declare “I’m free…” from devastating conflict and human suffering, despair and waves of hopelessness…

I remember well my great uncle (died 1973) who fought in World War I…and who was gassed in France but lived a long life in which he was limited by damaged lungs…so therefore you and I say, “I’m free….”

In World War II, my cousin Lt, Coit Taylor Henley, whose ancestor was a brother of my great, great grandmother Sarah Henley Rickett mentioned above, was awarded both the Silver Star and the French Croix de Guerre for piloting his ship into Normandy Beach, supplying infantry soldiers, and taking aboard many wounded soldiers, then returning to sea with his ship amid heavy fire from the German fortresses on D-Day, June 6. 1945. His ship USS LCI 85, on fire and badly damaged, was able to stay afloat long enough for the wounded soldiers and crew to be safely removed before the ship sank. And thus, we all can now proudly say “I’m free…” 

And also in World War II, my father, Paul Kenneth Rickett, a member of the Sixth Marine Division, 4th Marine Regiment, First Battalion, Company C, was wounded twice in the brutal battles between April 1, and mid-May, 1945 to take Okinawa…the fighting so fierce that, after being wounded, he continued to fight from a shell=hole…it took two days before medics could reach him. The Sixth Marine Division was awarded the Presidential Unit Citation for bravery. And I myself can say, “I’m free…” along with you!

Yes, I had cousins in Vietnam, the Gulf War, etc. And “I’m free…”

And just maybe a more sobering and yet joyful declaration of “I’m free…” comes when we realize that several words of faith that we use constantly…love, forgiveness, and grace allows us to declare “I’m free…” NOT free to exploit and abuse, BUT FREE…released and unbound from all fear, all sin, all efforts to debase us as if we were less than a child of God.

All of God’s Love now revealed to us amid battles and victories of Jesus, the Son of God, two thousand years ago, allows you and I to proclaim “I’m Free…” in a way that no nation can give us…only God!

“For freedom Christ has set us free…”

The older I get (and I just marked one more journey around the sun a few weeks ago) the more I notice (irritatingly) how many mirrors we have in our home.  In my “travels” around the condo, I am horrified to realize how many mirrors we have…in every room!

Mirrors aren’t my friend, at the best of times, and now it seems they are everywhere…lying to me.

Why do I say the mirror is “lying”?  

I look in the mirror expecting to “see” and I can’t…I now have to “lean in” to shave!  The GOOD SIDE of that is, just like a filter on a camera, some things look better, prettier, at a distance, or they are “blurred up” a bit.  YOU all look FANTASTIC!  Christmas lights are a wonder, etc.  But on the flip side, the mirror is telling me that I’m losing my eyesight to glaucoma…well, to be honest, the Eye Doctor is telling me that as well.  But no matter WHAT the mirror says, I see perfectly…I KNOW that in my mind, and always will…even when they drag me, screaming obscenities, from the BMV.

I look in the mirror, expecting to see ME and instead I see my dad…or my grandpa!  The GOOD SIDE of that is I think about my great Dad, I hear his voice, I remember some great times, and I miss him, and mourn him, in a healthy way…on the flip side, I know that I’m NOT as old as my dad, nor will I ever be.  No matter WHAT the mirror says, I AM 27 years old, and always will be.  I’m not my dad, I’m his son.

I look in the mirror and expect to see someone I know, someone who lives inside my head…but I often see a stranger.  The mirror lies…that’s not me.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and see an awkward kid who wasn’t good at sports, only moderately doing well in school, unpopular and introverted…the mirror lies, that is no longer “me”.

Sometimes I look and see a failure…the mirror lies.

Sometimes I see a broken man…the mirror lies.

Unfortunately, what I’ve learned through a life of performing and recording is this: in this world, unedited mirrors, cameras, and recordings don’t lie, when it comes to what the world sees.  They are brutal, they are raw, they are ruthless. They are also flat and shallow reflections, looking only on the outside of a person.  They only see a shell.  They also have the ability to trigger lies that we tell ourselves and lies that the rest of the world has told us.

What I’ve learned as a Believer & Follower is: it’s important that one uses the CORRECT mirror, held by the RIGHT person.

There is one “mirror” that matters in my life, and it’s not one of the 3.5 million that are in my condo…it is my reflection in Jesus’ eyes.  What is seen in this world, on this “physical plane”, is not who I really am…it’s not what is “real” in His eyes…the mirrors here really DO lie about who I truly am.

I am who my God says I am.

And He says:
– I’m whole, not broken
– successful, not a failure
– confident, not awkward
– not a stranger, but HIS child: known, understood, accepted, & loved.

What HE sees, matters.  He sees is my “forever self”, my “real self”, the “diamond hidden within the stone”.   However, in a way, one of the “lies” I mentioned above is actually a TRUTH:  If I choose to let let it be so, if I choose to let Him love me and lead me…

…I can be, am, and always will be, a reflection of my “Father.”

“For now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face.
Now I know in part, but then I will know fully, as I am fully known.”
I CORINTHIANS 13:12

It was just a few days before my 20^th birthday when I found myself standing with the University Chorale of Eastern Washington University on a warm spring day, getting ready to sing. We stood outside on a large platform, the Spokane River at our backs, and the skyline of downtown in our view. We were in Riverfront Park, the property that some 4 years before had been the site of the 1974 World’s Fair.

Today, it was being dedicated as a public park. We were singing, the Governor was present, along with other local elected officials, thousands of people, and special guest, the President of the United States, Jimmy Carter.

President Carter was a candidate in the first election in which I had ever voted. Seeing him also continued my then unbroken record of personally seeing every president who served in my lifetime up to that time, except for President Eisenhower.

We, the chorale of some 100, had arrived hours earlier and were told to stand in our places on the risers, just behind the podium and seats reserved for speakers and honored guests. We would get a good view of our President…but the waiting was difficult for us youngsters. When we looked out, beyond the park, across the freeway, to the buildings in the downtown area, we could see a large police and military presence; sharp shooters on rooftops, helicopters continuing to circle the crowd below, and the Secret Service (obvious in their attempt to be unobvious) milling about.

We sang, I don’t remember what, and then the familiar strains of “Hail to the Chief” played and there he was…taller than I expected, that toothy smile flashing brightly for blocks, and energetically chatting with all on the platform.

He spoke (after many others) and officially dedicated the park. Then, on his way off the platform he, and his entourage, walked over to our director, shook his hand, looked up at us on the risers, waved, and thanked us for our time and music…saying, “it’s like I had backup singers!”. Then he was gone. 

Interestingly, it was only after the event that we were told the reason we had to arrive before anyone else on the platform. It seems we were “the rear shield” since there was not a back on the large platform, and no other way to protect the President and the other people of note, from behind.

We were not only the Presidents backup singers but we also, literally, “had his back”. 

This memory from college years came to me as I watched President Carter’s memorial service in the National Cathedral, and I thought of the implications of being a backup singer and bodyguard to the leader of our country.

I hope to be the type of American citizen who always wants my leaders to succeed at doing the best they can for their country, and speaking out if I feel they harming the country…whether I voted for them or not.

A backup singer supports the lead singer by:

1. raising the energy level,
2. supporting the melody with harmony, and
3. providing a way for the lead singer to gain momentum…playing off of the other singers onstage.

“Having one’s back” would mean that, like the chorale behind the President, we (or I) would make sure the “leader” is protected from the back so that they can always move forward without looking behind them.

My responsibility, not as an American Citizen but as a Citizen of the Kingdom of God, is to be an encourager and protector for ALL my community and national leaders…it’s what my King demands of me.

But, like all Spiritual Truths, the implications go beyond simply supporting a temporary President in a temporary country…this Truth also applies to those in my circle: family, friends, congregation, and enemies. My daily life should contain some backup singing, treating those closest to me as the “lead singer” while I, as the “backup singer” feed them energy, support their “melodies” with my “harmonies” (not singing the same line, but supporting lines of the same song), while encouraging them on to their finest performances. ALL THIS while “having their backs”: making sure that they are protected from what lies behind them, so they don’t have to look back, and can always look ahead. 

I think this is in line with what PAUL teaches us about treating each other as if they were more significant than we are (PHILIPPIANS 2:3 – “Do nothing out of rivalry or conceit, but in humility consider others as more important than yourselves.”)…also, what he teaches about our gifts and talents being each being unique but working together to achieve one goal (I CORINTHIANS 12:4 – “Now there are different gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different ministries, but the same Lord.”).

 We are called to love (agape) our neighbors, our friends, and our enemies. I believe no matter who the leader may be, they fall into one of those 3 categories of people we are called to love. I believe no matter who enters our circle, THEY ALSO fall into one of those 3 categories of people we are called to love.

We are to be “backup singers” and to “have the back” of practically everyone we encounter…and some that we may never meet. I hope to be the kind of “backup singer” that behaves according to these words, from the 1800s, often quoted by President Carter: 

“Do all the good you can,
In all the ways you can,
For all the people you can,
Just as long as you can.”

Usually during this holiday weekend I am performing somewhere, as I am this weekend. We pull out the songs that only get sung once a year (as it is with Christmas) and celebrate this wonderful country of ours…

…but one July, something special happened.  It was a private event in a beautiful retirement community in Indianapolis where I sang with the Indianapolis Jazz Orchestra the songs we played every year at this time: Glenn Miller, George M. Cohan, John Philip Sousa, etc.  There was ice cream, grandkids, lemonade, and fireworks.  And of course, one of the highlights is to play the Military Service songs and have any audience members who served to stand at their song.  It was a good, all-American, kind of evening.

As I left, walking through the crowd, arranging their chairs for the fireworks, a man stopped me by touching my arm.  He was surrounded by his kids and grandkids.  He pulled me aside and thanked me for the music and asked if I had served in the military (my short hair).  I said that I hadn’t, but that I was the son of an Army Veteran.  Then he asked, “Where did he serve, and did he tell you what he did, and share stories?”

“Well, yes,” I said, “He was a peace-time Vet in Germany and Korea…and he told me quite a few things.”

Then he asked me a question that I wasn’t expecting: “Have you told YOUR children?” He asked. “Because” he said, “It’s important to keep telling the stories.”

He continued just for a short time, before his family led him away, obviously thinking that he had taken too much of my time.  But before he let me go, he said, “We need to remember…and we need to tell our children…and they need to tell theirs.”

I walked to my car wrapping my head around this conversation that took less than a couple of minutes, probably…as it affected me.

“We need to remember, and we need to tell.”

In this time and place, with renewed questions about truth in the news media, is it possible that families and generations become the care-takers of history…as it always used to be?  Is there, or should there be, a responsibility to tell our stories to each generation so that they remember?

Yesterday I listened to an historian on the radio.  He was saying how important it is to remember the story of the United States, because we are “losing our core”, as he put it.  He referenced a relatively new tradition in an African nation, where they get together in their neighborhoods, celebrating their National Day.  Along with the dancing, singing, fireworks, etc.  They “give their testimonies” (tell their stories). These are stories of their own personal survival through the genocide that rocked their people.  These are first-hand stories, and the people who tell them say they are afraid their children and grand-children will forget, grow apathetic and entitled.

A very wise tradition, in my opinion…because it’s true: generations forget.

The Spirit encourages the “telling of one’s story”.  It used to be that the Church carried that tradition out.  In MY home church, Sunday night was a time when the Pastor would regularly ask if anyone had a “testimony”, and someone would stand and tell about a recent “God Moment” they had.  Those times were far more effective on my young mind than reading the Bible…I KNEW these people, I trusted them.  Age and experience has taught me that everyone sees their stories through their own filters, much like today’s blurring of NEWS and COMMENTARY, but I’m not sure that’s all together a bad thing.

The power of someone’s story is evident at Central Christian, when some of our Elders tell THEIR stories during our annual observation of LENT…it is one of our most moving seasons of the year.

Of course, the stories related to a nation’s history, such as the beginnings of the United States, need to be repeated.  God’s people in the Old Testament told their history and made each generation learn it LITERALLY word-for-word, so that it did not get changed or edited with every telling.  The oral tradition of the Jewish people is legendarily accurate.

EVERYONE has a story.  Have you ever believed you have a responsibility to pass it on?  Remember that as mundane as you may believe your own life is, it surely has an impact on others, in ways you could never imagine.

Central Christian Church and THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH (DISCIPLES OF CHRIST) has a story. Our history stories, or “core” (the reason our church began) needs to be continually remembered.

The story of America is the story of how, who, and why we were ever formed.  That needs to be remembered honestly and repeated loudly to those in power, and to the citizens of this nation.  AND the story of God is the story of His people and their journey with (or without) Him…and IT ALSO needs to be repeated loudly and constantly to His children.

Your story; why you were created, your journey with and without God, needs to be repeated…loudly…regularly…and given freely to each generation…we have a responsibility to remember and tell.