She was as colorful a person as you would like to meet; my first piano teacher, Mrs. Beardsley.  With a smoker’s cough, low voice, and a pink living room (I especially remember the AMAZING aluminum Christmas tree with pink ornaments and rotating color wheel…this was the ’60’s) and a love for music, piano and her students that was unsurpassed.

When I first began taking lessons, the summer of my Kindergarten year, she would sit at a chair beside the piano bench.  Her manner never frightened or intimidated me, as she exhibited a free-spirited kind of love toward me and all her students in her manner.  Although I’m probably still suffering the effects of second-hand smoke, and scarred by the tales she told of motorcycle-riding through California, and tales of she and her husband when they were young (which was, I have to admit, difficult to imagine…seeing the arthritically-crippled fingers and joints as I sat beside her at the piano) what has followed me through the years is her love, and the type of wisdom that a good teacher passes on; wisdom that goes deeper than the specifics of the lesson itself.

Although there are many stories and illustrations of care, teaching, music and love that I could tell (and have told), for the sake of today I am remembering the times I was learning specific pieces that she herself had played.  There was one, particular, Mozart piano piece that I was learning.  There was a certain passage which was exceptionally difficult, it seemed that week after week it never got any better.  Mrs. Beardsley, frustrated by her crooked, arthritic fingers and inability to adequately show me the fingering and technique used to play the passage, rose from her rose-pink Lazy-Boy (where she had moved in later years) and made her way to a hall closet where there were piles and piles of music, HER music books, from HER lessons as a child.  All the music was catalogued by composer, and she quickly found “our” piece and brought it over.  She sat now beside me and placed her old copy of the piece at the piano.  Written in two hands, one; the fine pencil marks of HER teacher, and one the more childish writing of HER, as a child pianist, were notes, remarks, fingerings and exercises used for this piece.

And then she spoke the lesson I speak to you: “After playing this for so long, I’d forgotten how difficult it had been to learn.  A good teacher needs to remember being a student.”

The Spirit teaches us, through the Scripture and life, that Jesus isn’t interested in remembering our sins.  (And just as a side-note here, remember that in English we have the one word, “sin”, but the Greeks had seven; everything from “forgetting”, “aiming-but-missing” to “out-and-out rebellion against God”…and all those different words are translated into our one word, “sin”).  Once we recognize, and ask forgiveness for, our debts, our mistakes, our defiance…Jesus is good to forgive AND forget.  But my belief is that WE should NEVER forget our mistakes, our bad choices, our sin.

Why?  Because, as Mrs. Beardsley taught me, and is now teaching you, “A good teacher needs to remember being a student.”  A forgiven Believer & Follower needs to remember when they weren’t a Believer and/or a Follower…or else they forget to feel for others and start down the slippery slope of “us and them” mentality.

If a care-giver forgets what it is like to be sick or incapacitated, their care becomes theoretical and academic.  If a minister forgets that he or she wasn’t always a minister, they cease being relevant, to say nothing of empathetic.  All of us who Believe & Follow have the tendency to become narrow in our acceptance, and judgmental in our attitudes…that is obvious in everything we read and observe. Our narrow and judgmental attitudes come when we forget where our journey began.

When we, as Believers & Followers, forget that we used to NOT be Believers & Followers and the only reason we are now is because of who GOD is, and not because of who WE are…then we have no hope of ever reaching any other heart, of sharing any other burden, of holding any other hand in love.  When we lose EMPATHY, we cannot give SYMPATHY…when we forget our own struggle, we lose to tools needed to help anyone else in theirs.

And then we cease loving God…because the way we love HIM is by loving each other.  We could all afford to repeat again and again…”remember that you are dust”…not so much to remind us of our mortality, but to remind us that we were are ARE all “students” as well as “teachers”…the journey that someone else is on may be one we have already travelled, or visa versa.

My thanks, again, to Mrs. Beardsley and her legacy…none of us may ever know the wide circles our influence will travel.  Let us continue to learn, to love, to feel the pain and longing of others as if it were our own.

It’s no secret one of my favorite places to hang out after a rehearsal, performance, church, or to write and work (while eating and drinking) is SCAMPY’S ANNEX.  For those of you not from around Anderson, Indiana, SCAMPY’S is a local, family-owned “pizza/pub” with a rich and generous history.  It’s a local “watering hole” and a great place to eat, drink, meet people and have a great time…owned and operated by some pretty cool people.

I’m there quite a bit, on average, twice a week or more, during the theatre season.  I love the staff, they’re like family now, and I always see some other patron I know. When I lived alone, I used to retreat there to work and eat by myself. I liked being out of the house eating something I didn’t need to make, and I enjoyed the chatter around the place while I worked (the quantity of sermons written there, over the years, is astounding). Whenever I’m there, whether with friends or alone, I sit down and “exhale”.  It is usually the end of the day, and I whisper a “thank you” to the Spirit. It has become a place that is comfortable, hospitable, and familiar.  

Against the back wall of the room is a JUKEBOX.  Now, I say JUKEBOX, and that is “technically” what it is, but JUKEBOXES have changed even since I was young. (SIDE NOTE, WORD NERD ALERT: This is an interesting word: “juke” is Gullah – creole dialect – for “bawdy”, as in “juke/jook joint”, a “jukebox” was a nickel slot music box for playing music so one could dance at the “juke joint” – it would be a stretch to call SCAMPY’S a “juke joint”, however)  This JUKEBOX doesn’t require you to stand in front of it and push buttons, unless you want to.  It doesn’t even require change – you can use APPLE PAY or your credit card (handy).  But the awesome thing is the JUKEBOX APP, for my iPHONE, which connects me to the JUKEBOX, from wherever I am…over the internet.  I put money in the APP on my phone, select the music (from a vast catalogue of virtually every style), and the JUKEBOX plays my song.

So, imagine this scenario: there I was, the JUKEBOX and APP were new, and it was my first time using it.  I go to the APP on my phone, choose the JUKEBOX I’d like to activate (There it is: SCAMPY’S), and I begin to choose some music which will then mysteriously play throughout the room, and no one will know who has chosen the songs. I chose my first, inaugural, song to be played on the new-fangled JUKEBOX – “STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN” which I thought was appropriate, both as a patron and minister.  It didn’t play.  I waited, waited, waited…still nothing.  So, I told myself I had done the whole process wrong.  I lost a little bit of change, but “purchased” another play of “STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN”…still nothing, even though my phone was saying the first song I ordered was already playing.  So, I thought, “third time’s a charm” and set it to play once more.

AFTER I had hit the button to play a THIRD TIME, on my phone, I noticed there were TWO listings for SCAMPY’S: there was the listing for SCAMPY’S ANNEX (where I was enjoying my pizza in silence) and a listing for SCAMPY’S (the full bar next door, part of the same place) – and suddenly dawn broke over my head – they had another JUKEBOX in the bar…WHICH MY PHONE WAS CONNECTED TO.  That’s right, while I was sitting in the silence of SCAMPY’S ANNEX, the bar patrons next door were enjoying THREE ROUNDS of one of the longest songs in history: back-to-back performances of, “STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN”! 

Now, I’m sure that was more than irritating for them, though I didn’t go over and check.  To this day I’m not sure anyone understands what happened. 

That experience, however, started me on a journey to “alter the mood of my fellow patrons in the ANNEX” with music.  I’ve walked in where various families, groups or couples are quietly talking over their meals when all of the sudden an energetic song that I’ve stealthily placed in the JUKEBOX queue fills the room.  I like to guess, as an observer of human nature, what kind of songs would “speak” to the people present – though I don’t personally know them. It’s amazing to see the power of music to change the mood and sound of a room.  People become filled with energy: the sounds are not just louder (probably trying to be heard over the music) but also filled with laughter and a little more energy.

 I’m not making this up, the power of music to alter the essence of a place and person is like seeing the change when a light it turned on in darkness, or a smile appears on a face, or someone you love walks into the room.

While I’ve had fun choosing music at SCAMPY’S, the Spirit takes advantage of that time, once again, to teach.  Though music is a more powerful example, I have seen how a small thing makes big changes.  How a kind word shifts an entire day for someone, how a smile to a stranger, will change the way they walk as they pass, and how a “thank you” to a server is the “icing on the cake” for someone who may feel transparent to the many customers they have served that day.

Jesus is right.  We are, or I should say we have the choice to be, “the salt of the earth”.  Connecting to Jesus is achieved by our connection to each other, and visa versa.  When we “do unto others” we “do unto Him”.  The person who makes others laugh, who lifts others up with their words, who smiles, who thanks…who gives, is a person who connects us with each other, and connects us with God.

Our spiritual ancestors understood that God’s commands (mitzvot) were centered around creating connections with each other and forming or maintaining community, with the understanding that God is loved when we love each other.

If you have a regular time, or place, to exhale and give a little “thanks”, also take the time to “turn on the music” in someone’s life.  It doesn’t take a special skill, “you ARE the salt of the earth”, you don’t need the JUKEBOX APP on your phone.  All you need to do is remember what it was like when Jesus Himself, or through someone else, turned the music on for you – and do that: smile, thank, embrace, give, and love.

“Money spent on a JUKEBOX is never a wasted investment.”
Famous quotes by RICK VALE 

“Above all, put on love — the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of the Messiah, to which you were also called in one body, control your hearts. Be thankful. Let the message about the Messiah dwell richly among you, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, and singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.”
COLOSSIANS 3:14-17

YOU are the SALT OF THE EARTH, THE LIGHT,
and THE JUKEBOX of the world.

One day, when I was out for a neighborhood walk, I noticed two boys and an adult walking along the street.  One of the young boys had a bike which he was “walking” behind the other young boy, who was slightly ahead.  The boy with the bike accidently (as it looked to me) ran into the boy who was walking, just a bump, nothing major.  Immediately the boy in front turned around and without so much as a word hit the other boy in the shoulder.  The boy with the bike threw it down and started to pound on the other boy…the adult immediately jumped in and broke up what had started.  Now I don’t know the “back story” I only know what I saw…but these boys were young, very young, and I wondered at what age we all learn to hit back when we are hurt.  Because it IS a “learned” behavior…and not the way we were created…and not the way of the Kingdom we “Followers” call Home.

At whatever age we’ve learned to hit back harder, or repay an equal amount of pain, we also learn to apply that principle to every part of our lives.  We learn the subtle ways of “getting back” or “getting even” and call it “fairness”.  We learn it, and we practice it.  It becomes a part of our politics: whatever happened to simply stating your platform and being polite, without attacking your opponent?  It becomes war: how long have countries fought, simply stating that they are paying back for the attack on them?  It all seems so natural…after all, I have the right to defend myself, don’t I?  I have the right to say that if you hurt me, you deserve pain also…isn’t that the case?

Some people who identify as “Christian” do the same thing, without a second thought, even though “fighting back”, “getting even”, “causing pain”, “an eye-for-an-eye” is completely, irrevocably, and undeniably against ALL that Jesus, the King, teaches in that black book they hold up while screaming curses at those who are different than them.

When our soldiers across the sea are killed, mutilated, their bodies dragged through the streets…I am not surprised, I am horrified that any human could do that to another, but am not surprised.  That is the kind of behavior I expect from the ignorant and ungodly.  I would hope that is never the kind of behavior any American citizen would engage in…but I know that I’m wishing for something that is probably not to be.

However, we who follow Jesus (and if you’re going to call yourself a “follower of Jesus” you actually DO need to “follow Jesus”…otherwise, you’re just a “fan”) should be behaving in a manner that HE teaches us.  No matter what country we live in, no matter if our bodies live in the USA or somewhere else, we are citizens of the KINGDOM OF GOD, and we simply don’t behave that way.

We are well-behaved:

NOT because we’ve never been hurt…we have been.
NOT because we’ve never been slandered…we have been.
NOT because we’ve never been humiliated…we have been…

…but because that’s simply NOT who we are. The minute we hit them back, we become them, we ignore our citizenship in the Kingdom, and we cause God grief.  

If we are going to “follow” Jesus, then we have no other choice but to do as He commands: walk the extra mile, turn the other cheek, love (LOVE) our enemies and pray for them…and be IN the world…but, unlike “them”, not OF the world. 

My prayer is that there will come a time, soon, when others will know we are Christians by our love, and not just because our Facebook status says so.

24601: That is the number the prison gives to identify the man known as Jean Valjean, the protagonist in the book and musical, LES MISERABLES. 24601.  The number is not only given for identification, but also is thrown in the face of a man who carries a name, a family, a history…so that the penal system can remind him that he is “less than a man”…he is only a number.

That is what is what “the world” does best…it reduces humanity.  The world takes the fullness of life and reminds all of us that we are only a statistic, just a number in a vast sea of like numbers.

Depending on which circle one walks in, they are either one voice-type in a choir, a checking account number, an address, a blonde, a catholic, a poor person, a wacko.  The world will constantly reduce us to the least common denominator.  The world will do what is easiest, most efficient…and most degrading.

I remember the day I flew to Washington State with a medium-sized wooden box containing the ashes of my father.  Those ashes were all that was left of his body, after the world had its way…that, and a series of forms, two bags of odds and ends, and a few clothes.  This is what the world thought of him.  That is what the world thinks of you and me.  We may bask in greatness and popularity, or sulk in our inability to gain what we think we are worth…but either way, the world doesn’t care.  Don’t kid yourself, the world, as God Himself has said, is a prostitute who may flatter and tempt…but in the end you’re nothing more to her than a loaf of bread…if even that.

That’s what the world, with its popularity contests, worship of youthful beauty, and elevation of wealth and power above all things does to us.  However, the world does not define what LIFE is.  God defines LIFE.  And HE does the opposite of what the world does; instead of reducing humanity, God elevates, enhances, and fills humanity.

The scripture reminds us that God has elevated us, crowned us, claims us as children, and pronounces us heirs to the universe.  “Life” is not defined by the things that are left when our breath takes flight.  “Life” IS that breath, the very breath that was given us the day we first cried.  “Life” as God sees it, is something that not only lives forever, but is MORE real after we rid ourselves of these bodies and this world.  God does not see my father or mother as “ashes in a box”, but as individual, golden, perennial diamonds.  He knows them as Marge & Tom, the children for whom He would do anything, reach any depth, and fly across the universe to rescue.

We who Believe & Follow The Way are the bearers of THIS torch: that the world will flatter us, tempt us, beat us and try to kill us…but God is “not of this world” and this Age will be cleaned to make way for the next; an Age with homes for each of His children.  An Age ruled by the King who put on our skin so that we might trust Him, believe Him and follow Him…from the manger to the cross and through the tomb back to the Garden.

The only things from this Age that we will see in the next are each other.  Don’t let the world reduce you and define you…and more importantly, don’t be a part of the world’s conspiracy by reducing another person to something less than they are – our relationship to one another is the only true currency we take with us to The-Age-To-Come.  How we love them here and now, in this age, defines our love for God. So, let’s do for each other what God does for us: ELEVATE each other with words of praise, ENHANCE each other by sharing their gifts and giving them of ours, and FILL each other with acts of love that are unconditional.

“To love another person is to see the face of God.”
VICTOR HUGO, author of LES MISERABLES

“Dear friends, let us love one another, because love is from God,
and everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.”
I JOHN 4:7

I was a small boy who could barely read when my mother began instilling in my little brain the idea of memorizing things: phone numbers, addresses, scripture, poems.  She was an advocate of memorizing long passages of prose, speeches and monologues, a passion she got from her mother, the teacher.

Also, my grandmother (who passed before I was born) was, as someone who lived through the wars, convinced the scripture would someday be taken out of the hands of the faithful and should be memorized as much as possible.  She herself could recite at least 4 books of the Bible, in scorching King James English (so mom said.) 

As was often the case, being the child of the “Church script writer”, I was “cast” as the child with the longest (and I’m sure, the most dramatic) monologues and Bible verses to recite.  I was at my hometown church one day when mom and dad were there doing something else, and I decided to go to the sanctuary and see how scary it was to stand up on the platform and deliver to the rows of empty, blonde wood, pews.  I started the walk up to the front from the back when someone popped their head up from below one of the pews.  It was the father of some of my friends at church, he was fixing something in one of the pews…he smiled and said “Hi”.  He then asked what I was doing, and I told him I was going to practice my “monologue”.  He then asked me a question that confused me because I had NEVER heard the term before. 

“Do you know it by heart?” 

It’s funny how some things stick with you.  I couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7 years old and yet, I can see the pews, see his 40-year-old face, hear his voice and see the surprise on his face when learning I had never heard that term before.  He explained that having something memorized was often referred to as, “knowing it by heart.” That could refer to things like what I was learning and delivering…but also to things, truths, that need to be “kept in our heart.” 

“Do you know that your mom and dad love you?”

“Yes.”

“THAT is something you know by heart.”

“Do you know that we all love you?”

“Yes.”

“Keep that in your heart.”

“Do you know that God loves you?”

“Yes.”

“Then, there are the most important things you can know…by heart.” 

Again, if an angel had broken through the walls, stood beside him with a flaming sword held high I couldn’t have been more impressed (for more than 50 years or so) with that moment in time…it has stayed with me.

The term comes from the Greeks, who had no separation, in their culture and philosophy, between logic and emotion, considering the organ of the heart to be the seat of knowledge.  To “know something by heart” was to remember in the deepest part of you and COMMIT to remember it.

I recently concluded a performance of a Shakespeare script.  I didn’t have a large role, but it was significant: as a storyteller.  The words and phrases, even in this comic play, were sometimes stunningly beautiful and crafted as only a brilliant writer can do it: using language as a painter uses brushes and oil, and as a sculptor uses chisels, hammers, and polishing cloths.  Although these words are difficult for a 63-year-old mind to remember…I was, and am, DRIVEN to remember them because they contain “truth” …and I want to commit them “to heart.”

What do YOU commit to heart?  

Jesus is constantly reminding us that there are some things we have “memorized by heart” that perhaps we should forget: worry, or past indiscretions He has forgiven, and the times someone else hurt us, as some examples.

We may not WANT to commit those things to our hearts, but we do, and we memorize every hurt and say it, play it, over and over again.  Jesus reminds us that the things we keep in our hearts tell everyone (including Himself) what we truly “treasure”.  (MATTHEW 6:21) 

YET, as humans we are prone to forget the GOOD things, the beautiful things, the true things…and the writer, Paul, reminds us to commit those things to heart (PHILIPPIANS 4:8).  God asks that we remember what He has done for us, so our faith can be strengthened by those things.  Psychologists teach that training the mind to remember good events, strong events, will change the way our mind works. People who know by heart all the bad things in their lives, and “play them” over and over again (as a recording) will change…you and I have seen it happen, and we experience those kinds of people every day.  But those who remember when God delivered, when God loved, when God provided, also have change in their minds…you and I see a few of them every day as well.

What do YOU commit to heart?

Choose carefully what you learn, what you memorize, and what you know by heart.  It will change you…change isn’t bad, change is life.  But HOW you change is up to you.

“Go to your bosom; knock there and ask your heart what it doth know.”
SHAKESPEARE (“Measure for Measure” Act 2, Scene 2)

“Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God.”
ROMANS 12:2

MATTHEW 13: 24-30:
Then he put forth another parable to them, “The Kingdom of Heaven”, he said, “is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while his men were asleep his enemy came and sowed tares (weeds) among the wheat and went away. When the crop came up, and ripened, the weeds appeared as well.
Then the owner’s servants came up to him and said,
‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field?

Where did these tares (weeds) come from?’
‘Some blackguard has done this to spite me,’ he replied.
‘Do you want us then to go out and pull them all up?’
 said his servants.

‘No,’ he returned, ‘if you pull up the weeds now, you will pull up the wheat with them. Let them both grow together till the harvest. And at harvest-time I shall tell the reapers,

‘Collect all the weeds first and tie them up in bundles ready to burn but collect the wheat and store it in my barn.’” 

Have you ever engaged in an “exercise in futility?” I have.

Just last week I swept the hardwood floor in the living room while the sun’s rays were brightly shining through the window and bathing much of the floor in sunlight. It seemed as if there was far more dirt in the air than in my dustpan! Then, after working on the computer for a while, I went back into the living room and behold, the end tables which I had dusted before sweeping were covered again. I thought, “why did I even bother to sweep the floor? Or dust the end tables?” What an exercise in futility! I have concluded that the best time to sweep the floor is at midnight with only a dim night light allowing me to avoid tripping over furniture as I sweep!

Dust is an imperfection in which we learn to cope…even if we must dust and sweep every day or every week. I still remember my grandmother taking her quilts off the bed on a warm sunny morning, hanging them up over a clothesline, and beating them with a broom handle. Little poofs of dust would explode with each strike and then less and less dust with subsequent blows. Then she would leave the quilts out all day to “sun.” Then eventually it was a task to do all over again.

Was this an exercise in futility. . .or a means of coping and accepting an imperfection that exists? 

Some people like to eat tender dandelion greens and others see these plants as a weed and a nuisance. For me, I just want my front yard to be free of them. In the spring I use fertilizer that only allows grass to flourish. Yet, all through the summer I use my dandelion weeder often. As far as my yard goes, I have succeeded in keeping them from blooming and scattering their airborne seeds throughout my yard, but I must stay vigilant by using that dandelion weeder weekly! But I can’t control the dandelions in other yards and fields around me. So, it is a constant battle to weed them out of my yard before they reproduce. Yes, sometimes I wonder why I even attempt such an exercise in futility! But each week that I stroll through my yard with my dandelion picker, the truth finally takes hold. . .my yard will always be prone to this imperfection.

Like dust, dandelions will never be “controlled”; these imperfections have dwelt and will dwell on and on forever. The parable about pulling up the tares found in the wheat fields is a clear example of an exercise in futility.

Tares, weeds that resemble wheat in the early growing stages, are an imperfection that no one wants to see in a wheat field. The wise farmer tells his helpers (who discovered the tares) to leave the tares alone and wait until harvest to separate the tares and wheat.  Why? The roots of the tares and the wheat entangle, thus, to pull up the tares is to also pull up the roots of the good wheat and thereby destroy a good harvest. Yes, it is aggravating to see a wheat field invaded by tares, and the instinct is to want to pull them. Far better to wait until harvest when the farm workers can separate the wheat from the tares!

Run that thinking out. We human beings often have little patience with imperfections that we might see; our first instinct is to rip them out or remove them. How futile it is to think that we can eliminate imperfections in ourselves or in others. Imperfections are ingrained in human life like dust or dandelion weeds or tares. We ministers strive to remind dreamy-eyed couples who are planning a marriage ceremony that when the honeymoon is over, there is an awareness of a zillion imperfections. . .and that a person must work “with and around” as constantly as sweeping and dusting. Leaving the tares alone until harvest is a clear message: leave the imperfections alone when the greater good (harvest) will be adversely affected! O, to be sure, some imperfections (criminal behavior) are such that punitive action must be taken. However, my point is that too many relationships (not only marriage, but friendship, co-workers, family, etc.) may be harmed when we decide that some imperfections we see in others must be ripped out.

For example, years ago my wife and I had gotten to the point that we were short with some of the other’s shortcomings. Then we learned that we differed in how we picked up on the world around us. I (Ken) tend to be intuitive which means, among other things, that I often instinctively know what may be going on without having to ask or be told. Della, on the other hand, is “sensing” person who must rely upon the five senses (touch, taste, sight, hearing, and smell) which means, among other things, that she usually has to ask or see for herself, etc. But once we learned that we pick up on the world around us differently, many of the things that irritated us melted away almost overnight. What we saw as imperfections in each other that we wanted to “rip out” was transformed into a new way for us to understand each other. 

Leave the imperfections alone. Any of us can enjoy long term relationships simply when we wisely realize that we are not in this world to rip out all imperfections that we see in each other. If we did so, we would be lonely and alone for sure!

Fred Craddock, well-known Disciples of Christ preacher and author, uses this parable to say to the churches, “leave the tares alone; don’t pull ‘em up!” The old practice of “churching” meant that a person was removed from membership for a “sin” committed, usually with an expectation that such persons would see the error of their ways and ask to be restored. Written histories of a few congregations tell stories about young people who were “dismissed” for dancing, or a man “churched” for chewing tobacco, or a woman “removed” for flirting. Usually, the aftermath of these actions is turmoil. Families and kin quit attending. People take sides. Offerings suffer. Why? Because roots are all tangled up: pulling a “tare” also pulls out the good wheat. Leave the tares alone.

Craddock also says, “don’t clean up the membership rolls.” I (Ken) once began a pastorate with a new congregation, and within days I was confronted by an older man who came up to me on a street of that town. I was informed that he would not be back in church, nor his family, nor would his folks support the church in any way. I said, “do you mind telling me why?” To which the response was, “I got the new church directory and my family, including my grown children and their families, were not in it anymore. We may not have attended, but we did support it financially when we could. But somebody decided to clean the rolls. . .” So, I did some checking into the man’s story. The new directory was created and printed while the church had an interim minister, and the person assigned to update the membership list with home addresses “removed” people using the criteria of attendance alone. I have learned that the most precious asset of any congregation is the goodwill of the membership and the good will of the community. Leave the tares alone! God did not call the Church into being for the Church to remove tares; that is God’s job. Rather, the Church is called into being to put to share redemptive love and grace as revealed in Jesus Christ, to lift up those who have been overtaken in a fault, to exist in true fellowship with fellow Christians who can admit to being a part of imperfect humanity who are united in a common goal to become the new humanity of God’s people by the increase of love for God and neighbor.

“Leave the tares alone.” Some people place this parable in terms of God’s judgment. That may well be. BUT this parable is about withholding our judgment. Oddly, for those who follow Jesus, to leave the tares alone is a clarion call to love redemptively, to live faithfully, and to become as gracious to one another as we would want God to be gracious (and forgiving) to us!

For me, working in the theatre is almost the same as being involved with a church congregation: it’s a bunch of diverse people getting together with a variety of talents and gifts, and one single purpose.  Through the process of designing, planning, rehearsing, building, sewing, and creating, actors “bond” with one another and a new community is formed.  That’s one of the main reasons I love it and have for most of my adult life.

Theatre also feeds the process of teaching, through observing human nature.  Like I always say, God will speak to you in whatever way you’ll listen.  The theatre, and people involved, have (knowingly and unknowingly) taught me a lot about God, about life, and about love.

When I am rehearsing a show.  I am reminded of situations I’ve had before.  One example, one “epiphany”, presented itself to me.

Often, in theatre where volunteers are involved (people with lives outside of the theatre) someone will need to miss a rehearsal and someone else will need to fill in that night.  In one rehearsal I attended, the striking, tall, blonde leading lady with the golden voice was absent and the Assistant Director to the show was obliged to step in, script-in-hand, and sub for her.  The leading lady had a few love scenes, a couple of beautiful songs, and a dance – and the script consistently spoke of her character’s beauty, especially with the line, “She’s an elegant strain of music in the moonlight…with blonde hair”.  Now, the Assistant Director was a round, 55-ish man, balding with a huge mustache and beard…his “uniform” was sweatshirt and jeans.  And no one would want to hear him sing.

During one moment in the rehearsal, one of the actors, in character and speaking with his impeccable British accent, turned to him and said, “You’re the ugliest strain of music in the moonlight with blonde hair I’ve ever seen!”  EVERYONE, including the Assistant Director, laughed.  No one was hurt or offended.

I catalogued the moment.

Everyone laughed.  HE laughed.  Why?  Because it was obvious to everyone, including the Assistant Director in question, that he was neither a woman, tall, blonde, or exactly “beautiful”.  He wasn’t hurt.  Far from it – HE thought it was hilarious.  Everyone enjoyed the joke.  The Assistant Director thought it was funny because he KNEW he wasn’t an “elegant strain of music in the moonlight, with blonde hair.”

Instead, he KNEW who he was.

WORDS are power, and sometimes WORDS do hurt.  In my lifetime I’ve been hit with some ugly and ignorant words.  We’ve all heard the “sticks and stones” phrase, even though experience tells us words are powerful, with a power to be used for good or bad.  So how do we protect ourselves against words that hurt, opinions about us that are untrue?  Do we fight back? Well, we don’t need to.

But we do need to know who we are.  If someone told me I was an ugly tall blonde woman I’m not sure I would be angry, because the accusation is so ridiculous.  I know I’m not tall, blonde, or female.  They couldn’t hurt me with that “insult” because it is so far from who I actually am that it’s silly.

So, why are we hurt when someone says something unkind to us or about us that is clearly not true?  I believe there are a couple of reasons:

1. We are too concerned about what other people think about us, and
   2. We are insecure in ourselves about who we really are and think we need validation from others, to be spectacular. 

When a person decides God is who He says He is, and they realize that Jesus is His Son, and God-in-the-Flesh – and decide to follow Him, they become who HE says they are.  And God calls us His children.  This is the same God who spoke the word “light” and there was light.  When He speaks it…it is so.  He thinks you’re the most spectacular bit of stardust He has breathed life into – that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.  Others don’t have the final say about your life, and neither do they sit on the throne of the universe.

But what about the loudest voice of all, your own?  The scripture assumes that we all love ourselves, sometimes. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” makes the assumption that you love yourself.  We all know that isn’t always the case.  We are our own worst enemies when it comes to believing in our own significance. What is the answer?

Go back to point one; God decides your worth…but He also inhabits your very soul, because it is worthy of Him.  Or at least HE believes so. And, because we belong to Him, we assure that hurtful words never come out of OUR mouths.

When I know who I am and where my “significance” comes from, there isn’t a word anyone can say to penetrate that armor of love and truth, I cannot be permanently armed.  Of course, we need to be honest about our abilities and inabilities, not think TOO highly of ourselves, and not compare ourselves with others.  We must be able to accept unconditional (and it actually MEANS, “unconditional”) love.  And we must continually, continually, practice life within those parameters – it TAKES practice, it won’t happen all at once.

I thank both the theatre and the church for helping me grow my imagination, share my talents, and for speaking God’s Truth to me…in the language(s) I hear.  With that God-given imagination, and in a very “theatrical” way, I see Jesus at the bottom of that hill in Israel called “Mount of the Beatitudes”. In a moment He looks up at me; one lost man in the sea of thousands on the hill that day, and says, “You are the salt of the earth.  You are the light of the world”…

…and I realize, sometimes God has more faith in me than I do in Him. 

Be well, go shine, and remember who you are.

Once again, I recently got to experience some Disney magic, thanks to the generosity of a good friend, and cast member at WDW. I spent a glorious day at EPCOT in Walt Disney World.

I’ll say it again: every time I’m there I am so impressed with their passion for ensuring vacationers have the best vacation they’ve ever had.  Everything, from the height and color of the buildings to the detail in the streetlamps is designed to attract visitors (and snag some of their cash). 

Walt Disney didn’t live to see WALT DISNEYWORLD “in the flesh”, but he saw it before it was built, in his fertile mind. A couple of years ago I read a Disney biography and visiting the park(s) after reading so much about the man (the good and the not-so-good) and his methods, made those trips even more fascinating.   Every spot, every shop, street, ride, window, light, character, etc. is designed to specifications that are attractive to the people who visit – of ALL ages.   In fact, the way DISNEY goes out of its way to make sure that ADULTS (parents and grandparents) have as much of a good time as the kids is also very impressive.

Mr. Disney had a knack of “getting into the skin” of the people he wanted to serve.  He often responded to criticism that he only created a “fantasy escape” from the world by saying that he was not creating an escape, but an ideal world.  Much of it was HIS ideal, HIS memory (MAIN STREET USA – Magic Kingdom, as an example) is a recreation of his childhood hometown.  But why do the rest of us also feel so nostalgic on MAIN STREET in THE MAGIC KINGDOM, or comfortable on HOLLYWOOD BLVD in DISNEY MOVIE STUDIOS park?  Part of it is reminiscent design and part of it is design science.

For example, many of the buildings are constructed just enough under scale/smaller than life-size to make one feel cozy and warm (that is just exactly what happens on MAIN STREET and HOLLYWOOD BLVD).  And things such as CINDERELLA’S CASTLE in the Magic Kingdom are built with forced perspective (the scale gets smaller as it grows higher – to make it seem even taller than it is, without the observer feeling overwhelmed).

It is said that Walt oversaw every detail of THE MAGIC KINGDOM in California.  One of his methods was to get down on his knees in the middle of the park and look around to see if anything stood out of place – from a child’s perspective.

One year we saw the new STAR WARS attraction, and although half of the world’s population was there, we saw enough to be impressed once more, by Disney design, concept, and their general knowledge of the people business.

Also, we experienced the newish “air gondolas” suspended high above the parks and called the SKYLINER.  This is a new way to travel from some of the parks to others AND to many of the in-park resorts.  What makes this ride fascinating is everything you could see from the air that you can’t see from the ground; the perspective of seeing the park through the eyes of the creators, rather than the visitor. 

Although the entire WDW park system teaches me about God every time I’m there (because I believe, and teach often, EVERY SPIRITUAL TRUTH HAS A PHYSICAL METAPHOR) what struck me while riding the SKYLINER was seeing ALL the machinery, buildings, and people working ‘round-the-clock whom we never see in the park while visiting. 

Not only does WDW attract every eye and imagination because of the way the creators designed and constructed it, but there are almost as many people behind the scenes working to make things happen as there are people visiting the park.  If you work at WDW, in any capacity, you are called a CAST MEMBER.  Once you walk into a part of the park that is occupied by visitors you are “on stage” and when you walk off that part, you are “off stage”.  What is happening backstage is almost more fascinating than the “show” onstage…as is often the case in life itself.

High above the park we saw new construction happening in several places, unseen by the eyes on the ground.  We saw parking lot after parking lot filled, not with visitors, but with CAST MEMBERS.  We saw roads, walkways, mechanisms, etc. all there to provide for those in the parks who would never see them.

Again, this reminded me of the earth, and life, in general: a place created for us by God.  This place was created to be a perfect place for us, with our perspective(s) and needs in mind.  I can picture God on his knees looking out at the park he was creating (Eden) to see if there was anything out of place or wrong for us.  He even descended to us, crawled into our skin, saw through our eyes, heard through our ears, to ensure that we understood/understand everything here is created FOR US.  Everything here is for our use, tailored for our pleasure and fulfillment…and to especially show us that HE is accessible to us, as well.

Behind the scenes/backstage He continues to work, to redesign, to remodel, to build – and beside Him, the multitudes of unseen Messengers – doing work we will never see, fighting battles we will never know about, but we DO experience the results – all for His “park” and the children He created to live there.

And the “CAST MEMBERS” unseen backstage? Well, in many ways, those are the citizens of the Kingdom of God, the unseen reality, the parallel universe. Those citizens are also working on the Designer’s behalf to make sure that EVERYONE in the world understands and sees clearly the Designer’s ideas, creations, and love…and then, through His work and care they are drawn to Him.

Of course, The DISNEY Corp. is a business, and they aim to make money.  But they make money by aiming to understand, to know, and to cater to the client who brings in the money.  It is just a small type, or picture, of the single-minded mission of God: to create everything around us to show His love, and to attract us to Him so we will choose to love Him and walk beside Him – forever. 

God will be found everywhere we look for Him. He is in all places, as is the Truth of His existence. It’s not a matter of FINDING Him, it’s a matter of recognizing His presence. And, as Paul said, the elements of the physical world teach us about the invisible world of the Kingdom. You can learn a lot about God and His love for us…in everything, everywhere, if you look…even at Disneyworld.

“Every spiritual truth has a physical metaphor.”

Imagination is funny, it makes a cloudy day sunny
Makes a bee think of honey just as I think of you
Imagination is crazy, your whole perspective gets hazy
Starts you asking a daisy “What to do, what to do?” 

Have you ever felt a gentle touch and then a kiss
And then and then, find it’s only your imagination again?
Oh, well 

Imagination is silly, you go around willy-nilly
For example, I go around wanting you
And yet I can’t imagine that you want me, too. 

 This song, by Jimmy Van Heusen & Jimmy Burke, is a favorite song of mine. I am a big fan of these songwriters and others like them, from that time and place. And I’m a big fan of the concept of “imagination”.

IMAGINATION (Oxford English Dictionary):

1. the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects, not present to the senses.
2. the ability of the mind to be creative or resourceful
3. the part of the mind that imagines things

Personally, IMAGINATION is the tool I use the most for creating, arranging, designing, writing and teaching/preaching.  I need to “see the final product” (which hasn’t yet occurred or been constructed) before it is built or composed. I need to form ideas from things I’ve seen and haven’t seen. As an only child, my IMAGINATION was necessary to keep me busy, and I developed and polished it early on, which is what makes it such an important tool for me now.

Teachers, through my years of Elementary and Secondary Schools, continually wrote on my report cards that I “had a very active imagination”, and they didn’t always mean that in a GOOD way.  And many more knowledgeable people than I have seen the IMAGINATION as a threat to doctrine and religion. Some communities of faith and disciplines have considered the mind’s IMAGINATION a thing to be avoided, as it is the tester of free will, which often would lead a Follower & Believer astray from the solid Truth of God (in their opinion). After all, shouldn’t we, they say, rely on what we see and know…which, I should point out here, is contrary to entire concept of FAITH.

Is IMAGINATION truly a bad thing when it comes to our spiritual lives, our hearts, and the very Light inside that is God-In-Us? Is it a bad influence on the way we behave as representatives of the One True God? Historically there are arguments on both sides.  Joan of Arc is said to have been confronted by the Church, as they were confounded by her “unorthodox” structure of belief, and that God spoke to her directly. They saw her only as a female child, and yet, her success was contrary to what they believed should be the result of a person like her. In the movie about her life, “MESSENGER”, she is asked if the voice she hears is not her IMAGINATION. She answers that indeed it is, for that is how God speaks to her. Although this quote is somewhat apocryphal, the true Joan said this same sort of thing often in different forms.

This is what I believe about IMAGINATION, God, and us: I believe that our God-Given IMAGINATION is not used enough. I believe that our IMAGINATIONS bring us close to this Truth: God will use whatever language necessary to speak directly to our hearts and restore us.

I believe that FAITH requires the use of a good and continually exercised IMAGINATION, to know “…the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen…” (HEBREWS 11:1). I believe that anyone who claims to have NO IMAGINATION is fooling themselves. Our IMAGINATIONS are used every day, one way or another.

I also believe, like everything, IMAGINATIONS can be poorly used.  Jesus talks about bad use of our IMAGINATIONS constantly. He calls it WORRY (IMAGINATION gone rogue).

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
(MATTHEW 6:24) 

“Whenever you are arrested and brought to trial, do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit.” (MARK 13:11) 

“And don’t be concerned about what to eat and what to drink. Don’t worry about such things.” (LUKE 12:29)

Isn’t WORRY just an active IMAGINATION gone bad? Isn’t it just IMAGINATION without boundaries or focus? Or maybe it’s focused in the wrong direction. You can IMAGINE the good or the bad, it’s your choice. But Jesus says that WORRY not only doesn’t add “one hair to your head”, but is scientifically proven to shorten a person’s life, along with taking the joy away.

Once again, I don’t believe we use our IMAGINATIONS enough. They may be filtered through our culture, our nurturing and education, along our journey of life.  But IMAGINATION can also be powerful and beautiful. IMAGINE the answer to prayer. “But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.” (JAMES 1:6) Isn’t that what belief truly is, IMAGINING the answer, seeing what hasn’t happened yet?

OF COURSE we are influenced by our own paradigms and environment, just as every other saint who walked the earth has been, and that is why we ask God to protect us from ourselves. That is when we rely on the Spirit of God to do what the Spirit is promised to do: lead us into all truth. (JOHN 16:13).  

I should only speak for myself, but I know that IMAGINATION is one of the greatest tools in my own personal doctrine and belief that I cannot imagine my world without it. IMAGINATION is powerful enough, with the Spirit, to change situations, events and life entirely.

Like the song says, “…it makes a cloudy day sunny.” 

What I have always called, “the best day/the worst day” actually began the night before.

It was when I was a sophomore, majoring in music performance, at the state university I attended right out of high school. On May 13th (one day before my birthday) I was practicing, after the usual dinner of carbs and soda, in a practice room in the Music Building. The rehearsal rooms were, by design, soundproof to the hallway and each other. But that night, there were a couple of people standing directly outside my practice room door, I could hear them talking as I was packing up to leave. I recognized one of the voices as a friend I was meeting for dinner the next day. I started to open the door to say “Hi”, when I heard her say…

“…remember, tomorrow night at 7pm. It’s a surprise for his Birthday, I’ll get him there by 7:30pm.”

She was throwing me a surprise Birthday party!

Since I had never had a surprise Birthday Party, I was excited. Even more so, since (as a control freak) I like to know about “surprises” before they happen. (I know, that defeats the purpose…what can I say?). However, even with the knowledge of that good news, the next day didn’t start well. I had a “presentation” to give in my first class, which meant shirt and tie. I woke up late (as usual). I leapt out of my bed and sprinted down the hall to the showers for the fastest shower and shave I had ever done. Back to the dorm room and on with the white shirt, pants…I sat on the bed to slip on both my shoes while tying my tie. Rushing, and doing multiple things to be ready in 15 minutes, I jumped up from the bed where I was sitting – ready to step in front of the mirror and behold my glory – when suddenly, without any time to catch a breath or blink, I was painfully on my back, on the floor.

In my multitasking frenzy I had zipped the end of my tie into my pants. When I stood, I flipped myself on my back and ripped off the end of my tie. After breathing in, I remembered…

…I’m having a surprise party tonight!

OK, so things didn’t seem so bad. I tucked the end of the tie in my shirt, put on a jacket to cover the mangled end of my tie if it slipped out of it’s hiding place in my button-down. Then I grabbed my stack of books and raced to the cafeteria to grab a quick coffee (I was already addicted at this point in my life) before heading to my presentation…

…I’m having a surprise party tonight!

Once I arrived at the cafeteria, I placed my stack of books in a cubby downstairs and took two stairs at a time up to the second floor where the magic bean juice was dispensed. Once my coffee lid was secure, I raced (carefully) down the stairs to discover…my books were missing.

Sure enough, someone had taken all my books (a thief who obviously enjoyed reading philosophy, music theory and opera, no doubt). Now I need to add at this point that one of the books was borrowed from my mother. It was one of her prized possessions and I promised her it would be safe, as I tucked it in my car on my way to school from my home, two hours away, some months before.

My first thought was…” I’m dead.”

My presentation notes, my books and my mother’s Christmas Book all gone, with no hope of return. Then I remembered…

…I’m having a surprise party tonight!

And with that thought, the problem was placed in a folder a little further back in my brain and my day brightened despite the shredded tie, my aching back, the stolen books and a presentation that I would have to make up “on the fly”. (a little play on words, considering how my tie got mangled).

The presentation was, miraculously, stunning. (I was carried around on the backs of my fellow students, as they cheered…at least that’s MY recollection). My back recovered (ahhh…youth!) and with every hour of the day, good or bad, in the back of my mind was the constant underscore of a party in my future.

I returned to my dorm room around 4pm to find my wall phone blinking with a message.

(Editor’s note: For the young people: a wall phone is like an iPHONE without the screen or camera. It is, if you can believe it, FASTENED to the wall; immovable. People call, but you don’t know who is calling until you answer. In the case of this particular phone, one could leave a message, and a little light would blink on the wall phone of the recipient…it was a brave new world.)

In any case, I listened to the message and called the number. It was the SECURITY OFFICE on campus.
“Are you missing a rucksack?” they asked.
Not totally certain at that point in my life what a “rucksack” was, I said, “No, but I AM missing some books.”
“Can you describe the books?”
“Well, one of them is big, red, and is titled, CHRISTMAS CAROLS FROM AROUND THE WORLD…inside is the name, Margery Baker.”
“You can come claim your rucksack before 5:30pm today.”

I went to CAMPUS SECURITY. Sure enough, there was a backpack (what Shirley in CAMPUS SECURITY called a “rucksack”) that I didn’t recognize. And after I showed her my campus ID she smiled and handed it to me. My books were inside, along with several other things. That’s right…whomever stole my books had lost their “rucksack”.
“Don’t you want it all?” Shirley asked.
I have to say, as tempted as I was by the idea of obtaining my thief’s stuff: an ANDY GIBB cassette, macramé key chain, WORLDS OF ADVANCED GEOMETRY book, and a corduroy cap, I refrained.

I returned to my dorm room in triumph, saying aloud, “God is good.” (Not realizing at the time, in my spiritual immaturity, that God would STILL be good, even if my books hadn’t been found…since “God, being good.” has little to do with me…but that’s another BLOG).

The party I had dreamed of all day finally came to pass, and it was wonderful. That party had colored my day; causing all that went wrong to be placed in priority after the knowledge of what was happening at the end of the day. It was like knowing that the destination was worth any trouble along the journey.

Even at that point in my spiritual immaturity I realized the Spirit had led me into a Truth that would stay with me: knowing what is at the end of the journey puts everything else in perspective.

Every-once-in-a-while I stand in awe as I look on the lives of the Children of God around me, especially my flock, my congregation. These people who suffer loss, sickness, and circumstances that might cripple anyone else, not only survive, but thrive. They live as if they know what lies at the end of the journey. They let all circumstances, good and bad, all moments, all people, roll over them, through them…with the knowledge that there’s a party at the end of the day.

For those of us who BELIEVE & FOLLOW: how would our experience of each day change, if we knew what was at the end of the journey?

Funny thing…we DO know.