Uncle Spann

Saturday morning the caller ID lit up with the VA’s number. The doctor on the other end was looking for Uncle Spann’s brother Charlie. Mama gave them the correct number and asked if Uncle Spann died. Of course, HIPAA prevented her from answering, but we knew. It was over.

For 89 years Uncle Spann beat the odds and lived a vibrant life. By his own account, his mama laid out his funeral clothes twice before he turned 18. Both times, he surprised them. There were no surprises this time.  

A few weeks ago he was driving to visit mama as often as she would let him. He would come to the house and the crack of dawn, drink our “good coffee” and then take mama to lunch. Mama‘s alertness increased and her mental acuity sharpened. She called him her “life-long friend” and he referred to her as his sweetie. They made friends at the Waffle House and spent hours holding hands on the couch. Uncle Spann told her how much he loved her and she flourished with the attention. Just as I began to enjoy having Uncle Span around he cut his leg and spiraled downward. Less than a month after the injury, he died.

Uncle Spann was my dad’s best friend and has always been a part of my life. However, in the past few months, he grew on me. He rarely remembered my name and simply called me “shoog.” He told and retold the same two or three stories and always worked back to the time that the rattlesnake bit him.

In the last days of Uncle Spann’s hospital stay, he struggled against IVs and catheters. I rubbed his hand and commented, “I know this is uncomfortable, but it’s nowhere near as bad as a rattle snake bite.” He did not respond and I knew that his journey was coming to an end. I grieved the situation. Here he was, restrained in a hospital bed, alone and dying. I sat on the foot of the bed and patted his knee. When mama went to the restroom, I leaned in close and told him that it was ok to let go. I assured him that he was loved and that we knew he loved us. I told him that we were okay, I would take care of mama and that he could go anytime that he was ready. When we returned the next evening, Uncle Spann was much less restless. Maybe his medication was adjusted, maybe he did not have the energy to fight, or maybe he believed me.

The funeral was atrocious. The minister spent one minute talking about Uncle Spann and twelve minutes talking about being saved and not being upset. I left angry about such a bastardization of the gospel. The handful of folks at the funeral were not church folks and such tirades will not draw them in. When Lazarus died, Jesus showed up, cried, grieved with friends, shared a meal, and shared a little hope. Perhaps we would do well to follow this example.  

Note: I do know that Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, but I still think the model is valid.

Travel, Illness, and Work

I feel somewhat guilty about neglecting my blog. However, until I return to writing, I hope you will enjoy this short video of my recent trip to Nicaragua.

Put me in Coach. I'm ready to play.

I have been in Nicaragua for a week or so and that journey can be better understood by viewing the team blog at www.stjohngoestonicaragua.blogspot.com

Three hours after arriving home, the nausea began. I suspect that the stomach ailment generated from being in close proximity to a sick team mate, however, I may never eat KFC again -- sorry Con. Sanders.

It is five days later and I have missed one, if not the, most significant national events in my lifetime. We had an election party and I slept through most of it -- me, the political junkie and card carrying democrat. I have been waiting for this week for 22 months. I supported Hillary. I adjusted. Long before November, I knew where my ballot would be marked. That morning, I stumbled into the little church where I vote and waited 5 or 6 minutes before stepping up to the ballot screen. I sorted through 18 pages of questions and tried hard to remember exactly what the referendum babble was saying. I know all of this, because a friend drove me to poll and returned me to bed. Later she repeated my description of the line and process. As for me, most of this week has been a blur. Today, I begin to catch up on the news. Today, I begin to soak in the events of this past week. Today, I role my eyes at ignorance and smile at those who have a little more spring in their step.

Today, I also begin a new pilgrimage. Every once in a while, I experience the movement of god in or around me. Every once in a while, I am compelled to respond to this movement. Today, I begin to wake up to need for contemplation and prayer. Often I jump without regard. However, today, I am called to listen. Tomorrow, will be the time to jump.

Lessons from the Mountains

In my last post, I promised to post some lessons from the mountains. The list below was my last reflection before leaving Gatlinburg. After years of being in place, it was time to go. I consider these to be the top ten lessons learned. It has been seven years since I left and I still consider these to be cornerstones of my faith and my view of ministry.

10. “It is essential to experience all the times and moods of one good place.” Thomas Merton

I have experienced the goodness of finding my place and the power of being there.

9.Creativity is necessary for life and for ministry.

We are creations of God. Those we minister to are also made by the gentle sculpting of the creator. For these reasons we, too, are able to create. Leading, teaching, and existing with creativity allow me to experience God anew.

8. Earn the right to be heard.

This lesson was engraved on my heart as an innovator. Sharing Christ is not selling girl scout cookies. Chic slogans and cute uniforms are unnecessary. If I do not love people as Christ loves them, how can I expect anyone to believe my words? Hurting people deserve the richness found in the depths of a relationship with God. Therefore, I must develop relationships that enable others to hear the call of God upon their lives.

7. Know your own strengths and weaknesses.

I am unable to lead music or connect with a large group of teenagers, but I am good at speaking clearly, leading, and touching those whom society appears to deem useless and hopeless. Thank God for that discovery. Thank God that I have learned to embrace to the person he has called me to be. Life is more complete when I am doing the things that God has enabled me to do and when I seek to enable others to do what he has called them to do.

6. Speak up.

People need to hear what you are saying. The quality of my content is diminished if no one can hear what I am saying. Also, conduct yourself in a professional manner. To do so, preparation is key, especially in worship leadership. Creative and refreshing worship does not just happen. God gives to each of us whole-heartedly. If I am to reflect him in the services I lead, I must also give whole-heartedly.

5. Prayer is.

Prayer takes many forms as I journey through life. At different stages I tend to use different approaches. Currently prayers fill my journal. Other times they flow through physical labor or quiet walks. God continues to reveal himself to me in all of these forms. Prayer is more than words can express. God is God, I am me, and together we experience prayer.

4. Life is better lived in community.

“I have been observing into you and you have been observing into me. I have become a part of you and you a part of me. Because of this our salvation is bigger.” No Myung Su

My life is more complete because of the kindred souls in my life. Community is beyond geography; it is place where one cannot help but be at home. We find ourselves --at home in the acceptance and inclusion of others-- at home in the gentle honesty that enables us to grow and heal --at home in giving and receiving grace. Community makes life worth living.

3. ASHAN

Sometimes slogans embody much truth. The presence of God is real to me here in the Smokies. I feel him in the breeze. The coldness of damp rocks speaks deeply to my soul. Sunsets and sunrises reveal the consistency of God. Birds of the air sing his praises and red cheek salamanders give life to the detailed care of a loving God. Water cleanses my soul. Snow brings purity and challenge. Flowers bask in the creativity of God. The same God that tends so gently to the Smokies moves in my life. The same God that created the mountains created the person asking me for directions. The Smokies have enabled me to experience the presence of God in nature and in other people. May I continue to be so keenly aware.

2. “Regardless of our state in life, the issue is how authentically we love.” Monks at New Skete

Authenticity in personhood. Authenticity in ministry. I need it. That is the lesson.

1. Life is a journey.

Often people hike to get to the top of the mountain or to see the waterfall, but I hike for the sake of hiking. Some friends even question if my pace is considered hiking at all. I am often afraid that I might miss something, so I walk slowly looking at flowers, rocks, and anything else that distracts me. Mountain tops are beautiful from a distance, but from the top the ground looks much like the ground a half mile down trail. The trail approaching the top has the same flowers that trail coming down has. Yet, the mountain top beckons. I like being on top. For one thing, if I take my eyes off the ground I can see for miles. Secondly, climbing is hard. The journey of life is similar. In it grace brings us unexpected joy and beauty. Somewhere on the trail we find both --somewhere -- we stop and accept God’s grace.

Final thoughts:

And I was wondering if you had been to the mountains to look at the valley below?

Did you see all the roads tangled down in the valley? Did you see which way to go?

Oh, the mountain stream runs pure and clear and I wish to my soul we always be here!

But there’s a reason for living way down in the valley that only the mountain can know.

Paul Stookey

Who Benefits?

I am sure that the church grows weary of my push for mission trips. However, short term ministry changed my life.

We often think about going far away to help 'those poor people' in dire straights. However, my experience has been the opposite - I am the one that has been saved.

Indulge me for a few moments...

My first freshman year in college was challenging. I was the brightest, most likable, most likely to run the world, person in my small town. At least, that was my perception. Simply put, Georgia Tech kicked my ass. Calculus Three was my nemesis, but Jack Daniels was my comforter.

I attended a conference in the spring where I committed to working as a summer missionary near a National Park. A few weeks later, I started drinking - a lot. My grades were horrible before, but then I quit attending classes. Two days before leaving to be a summer missionary, I had one last blow out. I knew life was about to change and I was both glad and fearful.

My appointment was to Smoky Mountain Resort Ministries in Gatlinburg, TN. The drive from Cherokee to Gatlinburg was so long. The mountains are a holy place for me and that summer I learned to stand on holy ground.

I lived in a dorm on a church camp with 20 of my closest friends and neighbors. I helped with day camps in the morning and worked in a gift shop at night. On the weekends, I would lead worship in one of the campgrounds. It took me most of the summer to warm up to everyone. I was dreading the return to Atlanta and fearing that other staff members would think that I was unfit to do ministry. That experience was so awkward for such a social person.

Several weeks in, Georgia Tech sent me a letter confirming my failure. They suggested that I try a community college. At that point in life, I had experienced death, loss, fear, and uncertainty, but never failure. FAILURE. In that moment and through that summer, I experienced grace. I learned to be aware of god's presence, to accept grace, to speak and receive blessing.

I had preached sermons on the tenant that you cannot earn god's love, but that concept was for other people. I was good enough. I could give grace and acceptance to others, but my pride made it challenging to receive. The summer was challenging, yet incredibly formative.

I am who I am, because of that summer. I returned to Gatlinburg and worked with Smoky Mountain Resort Ministries for five years. My faith and theology are entrenched with the lessons of the mountains. See the next posting for more on this.

As our group prepares to travel to Nicaragua, I am reminded of the power of shared ministry. Do the folks in Nicaragua needs us? Sure. Do we need the people in Nicaragua? Sure. In the end, I suspect that we are the greater beneficiaries.

Maybe we learn a little grace. Maybe we learn to see god in a new light. Maybe we broaden our understanding of the world. Maybe we learn a new way of loving. Maybe we come to understand ourselves better.

Through it all, I pray that we are able to be fully present and tuned in to the movements of god in and through us.

The power of place

Gatlinburg, Tennessee and Matagalpa, Nicaragua are both places of great peace and 'at homeness' for me. In Kathleen Norris' book, Dakota, she discusses the power of place and the power of being in place. In about a week, I will take a group of 17 to Nicaragua. While we are there we will conduct vision clinics and free eyeglasses in the remote areas of the Matagalpa region. I am both excited and nervous. Personally, I am swamped with work and travel preparations. However, in the moments that I can move beyond that, I smile.

The group has a blog with reflections, photos, and prayers : http://stjohngoestonicaragua.blogspot.com/

At a loss for words...

Overheard while standing outside a Sunday School class:

Teacher: Can God use you?
Participant: Of course, God can use an ass ... (not kidding)

Teacher: Who wrote the Bible?
Participant: King James (duh!)

Teacher: Can God use you to share love with people of other religions?
Participant: You mean like Catholics?

Lately I have been at a loss for words. I intended to use the above quotes as a jumping off point for brilliant editorializing. However, that morphed into late night ramblings.

As I ponder on tonight's posting, my mind returns to the events surrounding me. The stories are rich, but the details are not mine to share. Here is the Cliff Notes version:

• My mother's elderly male companion practically lives at my house.
• My niece's boyfriend is deploying to Afghanistan.
• The septic tank is acting up.
• A teenager in my life is struggling to survive.
• Money is a dirty word for so many of us.
• A dear friend relives her recent loss as a fellow church member approaches their shared 'due month.'
• Family members grieve the death of their baby girl.
• Other friends wait for the money and clearance to travel to Ethiopia and pick up their two daughters.
• I prepare to lead a team of 17 to conduct eye glass clinics in Nicaragua.
  
• P and I are planning a wedding.
  

What started as a list of stories now resembles a prayer list. So, if you are a praying person remind God of at least one person on the above list. Each of us needs a little reminder of God's presence and peace.

"I am looking into you and you are looking into me and together our salvation is bigger. "

No Myoung Su