churches Archives - Page 7 of 8 - Ramblin' with Roger

Blame/Guilt in the Liturgy

Damn thing tears me up every time. EVERY TIME.

When I was growing up in the AME Zion church, there was a part of the liturgy called the Prayer of Humble Access, which we said every time we had communion; in our church, that was the first Sunday of the month. The prayer has long Anglican roots; the 1662 revision, which is at least a century after the original, reads: We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy: Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his most precious blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen. I have to say that that line about the crumbs under the Table always bothered me as a child. It’s supposed to be a humble prayer, not a groveling one.

Conversely, there’s a good Lenten hymn called Ah, Holy Jesus. The second verse: Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee? Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee! ‘Twas I, Lord Jesus, I was denied thee; I crucified thee. Damn thing tears me up every time. EVERY TIME. I have to wonder if it’s the music that makes it more moving for me, whereas I find the prayer pedantic.

Probably. We do a lot of music in our current service, such as the psalter, and while I’m quite fond of it, at least one woman in the congregation finds it stressful because she’s trying to get it right.

Black History Month

As an introit, they did a staggeringly magnificent staggering arrangement of Don McLean’s Babylon.

Back in December (or maybe mid-November), I had called a meeting for people at my church interested in working on Black History Month to come to a meeting; no one came. So decided just to do it (largely) myself.

One of the pastors had recommended this series A History of Racism in the United States from an entity called the Thoughtful Christian way back in May of last year, and it looked OK to jumpstart a discussion.

The Adult Education Committee, which I’m on, decided to try an experiment with two different offerings in January. On January 30, it would be my BHM part 1 v. the last piece of a study of the gospel of Mark. People wanted to do both, but ultimately, Mark won out and I had three or four people. My ego wasn’t affected, of course. Of course, it wasn’t. My ego wasn’t affected. Yeah, right. Still, it was an interesting discussion.

It was fortunate that February 6 would be a joint FOCUS service, albeit at our church, so there would be no adult ed programming. So, since I knew I’d be going down to Charlotte, I asked someone, Annette from the choir by name, to get some folks to bring in some artifacts for a display, and she/they did.

February 13, I was scheduled to lead class #2 about racism. I had come back from Charlotte only a couple of days before and the wife, the daughter, and I were still all EXHAUSTED. Somehow, did adult ed while Lydia did Sunday school, then we all went out to eat.

I had secured the speaker for February 20, who sent me an URGENT message that I needed to meet with him the Thursday before that Sunday at 6 pm. So I did, and he decided he wanted me to “interview” him for the Adult Ed class he was leading.

The drag was that, since I was with him on Thursday evening, I couldn’t be at choir that night. Thursday evening has a particular ritual that I’ve been enjoying of late. I take the bus from work to downtown, buy and eat a gyro, go to the library and look at the books for sale, then go on one of the computers and work on my blog for an hour, the only practically guaranteed blogging window I have each week. Then I go to choir. Interrupting the ritual, while ultimately useful, and arguably necessary – face-to-face DOES work better than e-mail – it really, as they used to say “harshed my mellow.”

The morning of the 20th, the speaker, Donald Hyman, was great in the sermon at the 8:30 service, the 9:30 bit on Fredrick Douglass, and again at the 10:45 service’s sermon, which was somewhat different.

There is this presentation of something called the kente cloth each year, and there had been folks lobbying me that a certain older member of the congregation gets one as well. I don’t generally pick the person, but I might have forwarded these e-mails to the folks who do, had I not been…distracted by the month’s events. The cloths were presented to Donald and to the choir director, Michael Lister.

Now, because I missed both Thursday night rehearsal AND Sunday morning rehearsal, I couldn’t sing in the choir; just didn’t know the music. It’s always strange for me to be in the congregation when the choir is singing. As an introit, they did a staggeringly magnificent arrangement of Don McLean’s Babylon, which I had talked about with Michael before I went to Charlotte. It’s based on Psalm 137, one of Donald’s suggested texts; the music was one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard in my life. Later, the choir did a version of Wade in the Water, with a guest soloist from the College of Saint Rose; Donald said the group compared favorably with the Fisk Jubilee Singers; I had the strong sense that most of the congregation didn’t know who the Fisk Jubilee Singers are. The offertory was some song I did not know. But it had lyrics about “my mother going home to glory” and I sobbed.

February 25, I had ordered a cake, and folks, including my wife, cooked. Again I led Adult Education. I also sang, and I was fine until the recessional, which was Lift Every Voice and Sing. It must be that I associate it with my home church, or maybe it’s the part about ancestors, and I have no direct living forebearers. In any case, my voice cracked. Afterward, I just wept uncontrollably.

Since Lent is so late this year, on March 6, I led the fourth segment of the workshop.

This particular BHM was PARTICULARLY draining. And I’m not going even get into the conversations about race and racism, except to say this: I’m now convinced more than ever that the discussion about race in America is NOT finished.

Old Father 2010

I’m no more, or less, disillusioned by politics than I was last year.

So what kind of year was 2010?

I’m still sad that my local YMCA closed. I was a member there from December 1982 to April 2010. I played racquetball there, and occasionally volleyball as well. My attempt to play racquetball elsewhere proved unworkable.

My bike was stolen; majorly bummed by that.

The blog I do for the Times Union newspaper got excerpted in the print edition at least a half dozen times this year. The problem with that, of course, is that the blurb may be confusing to the reader out of context. Still, people actually recognize me from this, which, I guess, is a good thing. I’m notorious enough to be asked to participate in that To Kill A Mockingbird readathon.

I’ve been attending my current church and singing in the choir for 10 years. We got a new choir director this fall. After eight years of stability, the last couple of years were full of transition in the leadership of the choir; hope this guy sticks around a while. I’ve been a Presbyterian for eight years, after being a Methodist – or nothing – for most of my life; STILL learning about it.

I attended no funerals this year; that’s actually quite unusual for me.

After attending the school where my wife works for a year, my daughter is now attending her neighborhood school in the city, and I take her there most days, while her mother picks her up.

We’re going to an international reunion next year, and we all got passports, not just on the last day, but the last 15 minutes, before the rates went up.

I’m no more, or less, disillusioned by politics than I was last year.

When the Golden Globes movie nominations came out, I realized that, outside of the animated films, of which I saw Toy Story 3, Tangled, and 30 minutes of Despicable Me, I saw only one movie for which either the actors and/or the film was nominated, and that was The Kids Are All Right.

My TV DVR is constantly at 75% full, give or take 10 percentage points. I have yet to see an episode of 30 Rock or The Office for this season, I’m weeks behind on Glee. I skipped the JEOPARDY! college tournament. I AM up-to-date with The Closer and Grey’s Anatomy, however.

I have in excess of 140 sick days available at work, a function of being there 18 years.

I blogged every day this year, again.

Johnny B. re Captain Beefheart

I didn’t realize until I saw this TCM clip that THREE members of the cast of the movie Airplane! died this year: Peter Graves, Barbara Billingsly, and Leslie Nielsen.

Mainstream Christianity QUESTION

Fundamentalism is just plain simpler.

Arthur, in his response to my post last week about Christian yoga, asked me to “look at how mainstream Christians can get attention (and differentiation) when overshadowed by the loud—and often flaky…fundamentalists.” I’d love to, but I can’t, and I’ll tell you why.

During one of the debates during the 2004 Presidential campaign, the candidates were each asked about their faith stance. George W. Bush gave his standard response about his personal relationship with Jesus Christ. John Kerry gave what I thought was a fine answer about how his Roman Catholic faith compelled him to respond to the social gospel, i.e., to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, et al. But after the debates, more than a few pundits suggested that Kerry had somehow evaded the question. And, according to that PBS series God in America, that I keep recommending, Kerry himself concluded that he had “blown it” on the religion issue.

So the junior senator from Illinois was out making speeches in 2005 and 2006, touting his religious conversation, from someone of not much faith, rather like his mother, to someone who had found Jesus. Then when he decided to run for President, you would think that this would have put him in good stead with that crowd. But the Rev. Jeremiah Wright controversy muddied the waters, and his absence from regular church attendance since he was elected President helped the “Muslim” thing stick.

Much of the media, particularly in the early part of this century, helped establish the narrative that the fundamentalists were the “values voters”, which truly infuriated me. I have values; I vote. How did the term get so co-opted?

Part of the problem with the liberal/progressive church is the problem with liberals in general. Some people have suggested that we condemn this one or that, but unless it’s a real outlier (Rev. Terry Jones, the would-be Koran burner), it is generally disinclined to criticize. “That’s not we believe, but you’re entitled to your views.”

And let’s face it: fundamentalism is just plain simpler. The Bible is the inerrant Word of God and every word is factually true vs. the Bible is not a history book, and that God gave us reason, intellect, tradition to discern what God is saying to us in these times. Now, what’s easier to explain, a black-and-white philosophy or nuance? And as this article suggests, the fundamentalists work harder because they have, historically, been outsiders.

But hey, maybe you folks out there have a better idea. How DOES the mainstream church better present its message of tolerance so that it isn’t drowned out by some yahoos who suggest, e.g., that the Haitian earthquake, or Katrina, or 9/11 is God’s punishment?

Busy, Busy, Busy

Mendelssohn music in Troy on November 7, 4 p.m. and at 4 p.m. on November 14 at First Pres Albany.

We looked at the calendar at home this week, and there is something on it for every day this week. This is not, BTW, something I strive for.

Monday night, Carol had a teacher conference, and Wednesday night, she had a church meeting. This meant getting the child to bed – a lengthy ritual involving homework and medicines, as well as toothbrushing and storytime.

Tuesday morning, I voted; it was a little chaotic with the new system, at least at 6 a.m. Hey, did you notice I made three predictions, two came true, and when they count the 41% of the vote as write-ins (!) in Alaska, I may be 3 for 3?

Then I had a parent-teacher conference with the daughter’s teacher, then stayed home with her, because none of the schools around here are open for class, but the teachers, such as my wife, have to report. The Daughter and I went to the library, did housekeeping and raking. Tuesday night, I had a church meeting.

Thursday AND Friday nights, I had rehearsals in Troy for a concert, described thusly:
The First Presbyterian (Albany) Chancel Choir will partner with the choir of Troy First United Presbyterian Church, under the direction of Maury Castro, to perform the magnificent cantata Lauda Sion, as well as other works by Felix Mendelssohn. In addition to the combined choirs, the concerts will feature members of the Hyperion String Quartet, soloists from our church, and, of course, our esteemed organist, Nancy Frank. Each church will host: in Troy on November 7, 4 p.m., and at 4 p.m. on November 14 at First Pres Albany.

TODAY, Saturday at 3 pm, at the CHANGED VENUE of the Book House in Stuyvesant Plaza in Guilderland, I’ll be doing my To Kill a Mockingbird shtick. Then, as noted, Sunday at 4 is the concert; given the fact that I have church, then a meeting after church, the window between being home (c. 1 pm), and being picked up c. 2:30 for a 3 pm call, is NOT great. At least our clocks FALL BACK tomorrow.

So I’m almost running on empty.