What’s there to fear in a trip to New Orleans? Possible exposure to mold or fireants, being stretched by doing new handyman tasks, or working in a community where we could not walk to the convenience store alone came to mind before leaving. Isaiah speaks to those who have weak hands and feeble knees in situations where movement out of comfort zones is highly beneficial.
Our team was placing finishing touches on a home which the owners would very soon return to. I was immersed in renewing metal by scraping off rust and applying a fresh coat of Rustoleum when a family member came by to look. I stopped my task to greet him, relate and listen. He was ecstatic over all he saw and declared: “If anyone does not believe there is a God, all they have to do is come and see this place.” This man proclaimed and rejoiced in the same spirit as Mary does in the traditional Canticle read during Advent.
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden.”
Both Mary and the New Orleans resident saw the greatness of God and evidence that He has looked upon lowly servants. Two people from different generations witnessed God’s mercy and strength to lift up lowly people.
Isaiah prophesies of the positive effects Christ will bring to the world. Joy and gladness; streams in the deserts are images of the benefits for followers of Jesus. Yet these lovely Advent passages come to life after laboring on the Gulf Coast. I have yet to journey to the mountains of Lebanon, however I have spent time in an unmajestic New Orleans neighborhood which is beginning to rejoice and blossom. I returned home unaffected by mold or crime; fireants had not devastated me. Like Isaiah, I had seen the majesty of our God.
Isaiah 35: 1 – 10
Luke 1: 46 - 55
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
A Time to Hold On, A Time to Let Go
“The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear?”
Psalm 27:1
In midsummer heat, my neighbor sheared an azalea hedge. Suddenly the shrubs appeared eaten up, only to leave a distraction - an unsightly crown of brown twigs with no fair beauty to behold. What began as a good plan went awry causing mild sorrow. Faced with what appeared to be deadness, she assumed it was a time to let go, stating that the plants would be removed. I attempted to persuade her that this was a time to hold on by explaining that exposure to light would transform the brown into branches of green strength. I encouraged her to tarry and wait patiently until October before making a final decision. After a season of light, the bushes entered autumn with much evidence of new life. They had been sustained. Like the Psalmist, we could “see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”
Psalm 27:1
In midsummer heat, my neighbor sheared an azalea hedge. Suddenly the shrubs appeared eaten up, only to leave a distraction - an unsightly crown of brown twigs with no fair beauty to behold. What began as a good plan went awry causing mild sorrow. Faced with what appeared to be deadness, she assumed it was a time to let go, stating that the plants would be removed. I attempted to persuade her that this was a time to hold on by explaining that exposure to light would transform the brown into branches of green strength. I encouraged her to tarry and wait patiently until October before making a final decision. After a season of light, the bushes entered autumn with much evidence of new life. They had been sustained. Like the Psalmist, we could “see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”
Holding on to a garden, and the beauty it adds to the community, is of worth. So are plans for future growth in a family. Abraham, in Genesis 15, struggles with being childless and a vision for offspring. Possibly he is pondering his desires – to hold on or let go. Abraham is surrounded, literally and mentally, by darkness, terror, and fear. Into that despair, God interjects light through His object lesson of having Abraham look to the countless stars in order to number his descendents. A smoking fire pot and a flaming torch also light up the human need to hold on. Abraham believes, which is reckoned to him as righteousness.
Followers of God strive for more righteousness. What current distraction do you need to hold on to, believing light from God to improve the burden?
Moving Forward
“If I had known of the sign on the side of the moving truck, I never would have hired them,” exclaimed the octogenarian whom I helped move. Her comment was interesting for the movers were punctual, efficient, positive, and capable. They represented their sign well, which declared: “Faith Moves Mountains . . . We Move Families.”
The day before, I had encountered a mountain in the topography of my pilgrimage. A life changing obstacle suddenly was in my way. Much was on my mind, yet I deferred emotions so that this cross-town moved could be accomplished. The simple statement on the truck spoke volumes to me, for the reminder that faith moves mountains salved my open wounds and gave me encouragement that I would overcome.
Matthew provides two quotes of Jesus making this claim. Both are replies to a discourse. I am only required to have the faith of a seed. Christ used an image as did the moving company. It is one most can relate to for we understand that as a seed is small, so must the beginning of our faith be. Yet lost to our life is the fact that a mustard seed is an extremely tiny one. Christ was commenting on how little faith we may have, but was saying that only a small amount of faith will begin growth. “You can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will be moved.” This image is easy to remember. The next comment is less visual for I must discipline myself to remember: “Nothing will be impossible for you.” Not some things, or selected situations, but ‘nothing’ is the claim of Christ. Inevitably I want to interject doubt into my situation. Faith may move other’s mountains, but mine seems destined to stay in plaice. Yet Christ states that I should exercise faith without the hindrance of doubt. Such solid faith is a discipline requiring effort. It also requires memory of God’s past provision. Contemplating how God intervened goodness in past circumstances in my experience, helps me again use faith as I encounter a new mountain.
Paul, in his epistle on love, reminds us of faith as well. Love and faith must be balanced. “If I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” In his great treatise on the power of love, Paul gives a reminder that our ever abiding faith should be one which realizes that mountains can be moved.
I appreciate the witness of the moving truck. On a day of fear and uncertainty it allowed Jesus to speak to me. Suddenly the seriousness of my circumstance was bearable. For I moment I was living only in one chapter. The reminder that faith moved mountains helped me to see that a future chapter of my life will have provision. On a hot, humid summer day I continued the mundane task of packing boxes with a renewed fervency.
Matthew 17: 20; 21:21
I Corinthians 13: 2
The day before, I had encountered a mountain in the topography of my pilgrimage. A life changing obstacle suddenly was in my way. Much was on my mind, yet I deferred emotions so that this cross-town moved could be accomplished. The simple statement on the truck spoke volumes to me, for the reminder that faith moves mountains salved my open wounds and gave me encouragement that I would overcome.
Matthew provides two quotes of Jesus making this claim. Both are replies to a discourse. I am only required to have the faith of a seed. Christ used an image as did the moving company. It is one most can relate to for we understand that as a seed is small, so must the beginning of our faith be. Yet lost to our life is the fact that a mustard seed is an extremely tiny one. Christ was commenting on how little faith we may have, but was saying that only a small amount of faith will begin growth. “You can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will be moved.” This image is easy to remember. The next comment is less visual for I must discipline myself to remember: “Nothing will be impossible for you.” Not some things, or selected situations, but ‘nothing’ is the claim of Christ. Inevitably I want to interject doubt into my situation. Faith may move other’s mountains, but mine seems destined to stay in plaice. Yet Christ states that I should exercise faith without the hindrance of doubt. Such solid faith is a discipline requiring effort. It also requires memory of God’s past provision. Contemplating how God intervened goodness in past circumstances in my experience, helps me again use faith as I encounter a new mountain.
Paul, in his epistle on love, reminds us of faith as well. Love and faith must be balanced. “If I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” In his great treatise on the power of love, Paul gives a reminder that our ever abiding faith should be one which realizes that mountains can be moved.
I appreciate the witness of the moving truck. On a day of fear and uncertainty it allowed Jesus to speak to me. Suddenly the seriousness of my circumstance was bearable. For I moment I was living only in one chapter. The reminder that faith moved mountains helped me to see that a future chapter of my life will have provision. On a hot, humid summer day I continued the mundane task of packing boxes with a renewed fervency.
Matthew 17: 20; 21:21
I Corinthians 13: 2
A Faithful City
A devotion on Isaiah 2 and I Thessalonians 1
Surrounded by the majesty of the ocean, I looked to see the full picture of creation as I observed sharks lying on the shore. Once exalted, lofty, and proud in the sea, they lay humbly discarded on the beach with no more breath in their gills. Vultures descended from high above to the disintegrating fish. Slowly, bit by bit, the sharks were being eaten. Soon the sharks’ carcasses would be gone as the vultures clean the beach. I continued my walk, moving my attention from the grotesque scene, back to the peaceful succession of waves. My original purpose for walking the beach path was restored. Yet the paradox of viewing destruction, then majestic beauty, remained with me.
Isaiah speaks with similar paradox, criticizing the rebellion of humans who do not understand their sin; later with a compassionate vision, pointing towards cleansing and redemption. It is difficult to have a faithful city when arrogance, pride, loftiness and trusting in man cause destruction of our silver, gold, “chariots,” and “horses.” Isaiah prophesies of a day when humans will discard idols to moles and rats, as a shark is given up to vultures. As with observing the grandness of the sea after the shark’s demise, Isaiah looks to a day when the splendor of the Lord’s majesty will be the focus of humans. Jerusalem will again contain righteous people; it will be a faithful city.
Thessalonica becomes that faithful city. Isaiah paints a picture of coming judgment, made inevitable by human failure. Paul writes with joy to a city where people turned from idols to serve a living, true God. Isaiah rebukes arrogant pride; Paul affirms those who stand firm in the Lord. Isaiah prophesies of a day when humans will discard idols to rodents. Paul positively reinforced people were not tempted, but grew in faith and love. Isaiah envisions a majestic God; Paul depicts a God who can make our love increase while strengthening our hearts.
This provides motivation for me to identify and throw away my “horses” and “chariots.” This is not easy to begin, much less accomplish. Some are easy to put away; others I struggle with a desire to keep. Yet Isaiah prompts me to see cleansing of idols like the role of the vulture – the cleaner of the beach. To live as a citizen of a faithful city, I am motivated to increase worship by seeking with renewed fervor the splendor of the majesty of the Lord. Mindful of Christ’s words in Luke, I want to view myself as “a child of the resurrection.”
As Isaiah ends his critique with a compassionate vision of God’s intent for His children, I aim to walk forward, as on the beach, in the paths of the Lord. I aim to seek the splendor of His majesty while progressing through my quiet times and when entering corporate worship.
Surrounded by the majesty of the ocean, I looked to see the full picture of creation as I observed sharks lying on the shore. Once exalted, lofty, and proud in the sea, they lay humbly discarded on the beach with no more breath in their gills. Vultures descended from high above to the disintegrating fish. Slowly, bit by bit, the sharks were being eaten. Soon the sharks’ carcasses would be gone as the vultures clean the beach. I continued my walk, moving my attention from the grotesque scene, back to the peaceful succession of waves. My original purpose for walking the beach path was restored. Yet the paradox of viewing destruction, then majestic beauty, remained with me.
Isaiah speaks with similar paradox, criticizing the rebellion of humans who do not understand their sin; later with a compassionate vision, pointing towards cleansing and redemption. It is difficult to have a faithful city when arrogance, pride, loftiness and trusting in man cause destruction of our silver, gold, “chariots,” and “horses.” Isaiah prophesies of a day when humans will discard idols to moles and rats, as a shark is given up to vultures. As with observing the grandness of the sea after the shark’s demise, Isaiah looks to a day when the splendor of the Lord’s majesty will be the focus of humans. Jerusalem will again contain righteous people; it will be a faithful city.
Thessalonica becomes that faithful city. Isaiah paints a picture of coming judgment, made inevitable by human failure. Paul writes with joy to a city where people turned from idols to serve a living, true God. Isaiah rebukes arrogant pride; Paul affirms those who stand firm in the Lord. Isaiah prophesies of a day when humans will discard idols to rodents. Paul positively reinforced people were not tempted, but grew in faith and love. Isaiah envisions a majestic God; Paul depicts a God who can make our love increase while strengthening our hearts.
This provides motivation for me to identify and throw away my “horses” and “chariots.” This is not easy to begin, much less accomplish. Some are easy to put away; others I struggle with a desire to keep. Yet Isaiah prompts me to see cleansing of idols like the role of the vulture – the cleaner of the beach. To live as a citizen of a faithful city, I am motivated to increase worship by seeking with renewed fervor the splendor of the majesty of the Lord. Mindful of Christ’s words in Luke, I want to view myself as “a child of the resurrection.”
As Isaiah ends his critique with a compassionate vision of God’s intent for His children, I aim to walk forward, as on the beach, in the paths of the Lord. I aim to seek the splendor of His majesty while progressing through my quiet times and when entering corporate worship.
A Speech on Teaching
Well, I'd make a long speech, but . . . I don't speak any English!
Seriously, considering all the fine teachers at Collins Hill, I am very honored to be standing here. Upon his retirement, Andre Agassi said: "The greatest applause that any person will receive in their life is from their peers. To have them applaud you is the ultimate compliment." I thank you for that compliment. All I'll say is that I work very hard for our students. Yet one is supposed to work hard. That's nothing to boast about.
Clint Eastwood said of his Oscar for Unforgiven: "Take the work seriously, but don't take yourself seriously and you will do well for the rest of your life."
I take working with immigrant students very seriously. I like the challenge of working with downtrodden students in impossible situations. I like it when it is said: "We're not going to make Average Yearly Progress because of ESOL pupils!
I like the chance of standing in the midst of a student's linguistic darkness and shining the lamp of language and knowledge. I believe in presenting richness, as opposed to mediocrity; it is an excellent way to help pupils find and enjoy truth and excellence in life. I like the idea of helping students broaden their minds as they are introduced to the variety and richness of the world. I seek to extend the parameters of students’ thoughts and awareness to topics they would not encounter without schooling by engaging pupils in speaking language, reading words, thinking ideas and creating visions that they would not formulate without passing through my class.
I find satisfaction for knowledge is cyclical in my room. I learn from the students as they, hopefully, learn from me.
Building language and helping students gain diplomas, puts them on an equal footing with their peers in this society. I love the sense of justice in that.
I feel that my students from many nations have dignity, thus there is a spirit of respect for one another in my classroom.
I want all of my Eagles to soar!
As handsome as this trophy is - eventually it will tarnish and fade. Yet, the work of a teacher has longevity. There are many good teachers who never are nominated for teacher of the year. Yet we all do our jobs faithfully. Good teaching involves leading students to gain understanding of our subject matter. We also use our understanding to give counsel to teens. We are wise in our words and actions of instruction. There are days when we guide students to stay within the rules, and days when we are people of mercy. We cheer on the pupils of promise and encourage those who are weary. Students remember our words and actions. Last year I received an e-mail through Classmates.com - a troubled student I taught in 1980 took time to thank me. This means that all effective teachers are teachers of the year. The good news is that this is not just for 2006, but for years and years to come. Our lessons and deeds are not forgotten. A dedicated teacher has a posterity which will continue forever. It will not be blotted out. We are all teachers of many years to come.
I’d say more, but I have some papers to go and check!
Thank you very much.
Seriously, considering all the fine teachers at Collins Hill, I am very honored to be standing here. Upon his retirement, Andre Agassi said: "The greatest applause that any person will receive in their life is from their peers. To have them applaud you is the ultimate compliment." I thank you for that compliment. All I'll say is that I work very hard for our students. Yet one is supposed to work hard. That's nothing to boast about.
Clint Eastwood said of his Oscar for Unforgiven: "Take the work seriously, but don't take yourself seriously and you will do well for the rest of your life."
I take working with immigrant students very seriously. I like the challenge of working with downtrodden students in impossible situations. I like it when it is said: "We're not going to make Average Yearly Progress because of ESOL pupils!
I like the chance of standing in the midst of a student's linguistic darkness and shining the lamp of language and knowledge. I believe in presenting richness, as opposed to mediocrity; it is an excellent way to help pupils find and enjoy truth and excellence in life. I like the idea of helping students broaden their minds as they are introduced to the variety and richness of the world. I seek to extend the parameters of students’ thoughts and awareness to topics they would not encounter without schooling by engaging pupils in speaking language, reading words, thinking ideas and creating visions that they would not formulate without passing through my class.
I find satisfaction for knowledge is cyclical in my room. I learn from the students as they, hopefully, learn from me.
Building language and helping students gain diplomas, puts them on an equal footing with their peers in this society. I love the sense of justice in that.
I feel that my students from many nations have dignity, thus there is a spirit of respect for one another in my classroom.
I want all of my Eagles to soar!
As handsome as this trophy is - eventually it will tarnish and fade. Yet, the work of a teacher has longevity. There are many good teachers who never are nominated for teacher of the year. Yet we all do our jobs faithfully. Good teaching involves leading students to gain understanding of our subject matter. We also use our understanding to give counsel to teens. We are wise in our words and actions of instruction. There are days when we guide students to stay within the rules, and days when we are people of mercy. We cheer on the pupils of promise and encourage those who are weary. Students remember our words and actions. Last year I received an e-mail through Classmates.com - a troubled student I taught in 1980 took time to thank me. This means that all effective teachers are teachers of the year. The good news is that this is not just for 2006, but for years and years to come. Our lessons and deeds are not forgotten. A dedicated teacher has a posterity which will continue forever. It will not be blotted out. We are all teachers of many years to come.
I’d say more, but I have some papers to go and check!
Thank you very much.
A Garden in the City
A Devotion on Genesis 45: 1 – 15
Imagine a royal garden full of weeds: Joseph’s garden. A leader in a time of drought and climatic change, Joseph considered a very uncertain future and economic downturn. Fear was injected into society. Joseph endured each crisis without a loving, supportive family. No one sent flowers to ease his pain.
Hollywood might cast Joseph as a man who finally had a chance to even the score. Or he could be scripted to provide relief only to his father. He could write a check to provide food for all the brothers, and remain detached and alone in Pharaoh’s garden. Yet the Joseph of Genesis says: “Come, be with me.” He extends full forgiveness by offering first tears, then words, a plan for reunion, provision of basic necessities and finally an avenue of a relationship. Joseph and his family live out a famine in a newly tilled garden.
Joseph’s relationship with God was strong, seeing that the Lord was in charge, in spite of tumultuous events. Joseph had a vision that God was working out good for himself, society, and his estranged family, irregardless of what circumstances dictated. Even though he had suffered from brothers who had wrongly mistreated him, only to cover up misdeeds with lies, Joseph had the spiritual maturity to see the hand of God moving goodness into their lives. A person of vision, Joseph looked to see God and saw evidence of His work. Joseph was balanced in acting with forgiveness and speaking to give God the glory as he reached out to his brothers. He was bold to declare his understanding of God.
I compare the transgressions which Joseph compared to offenses received in my life. I am convicted, for my experiences trifle the pain Joseph felt. As a teen I wondered if I could forgive the same offenses Joseph did. As an adult I struggle to forgive small matters. To whom should I say these words: “Come, be with me?” Who do I need to listen to as they repeat these words to me? Joseph’s example is worthy of my reading and meditation.
Imagine a royal garden full of weeds: Joseph’s garden. A leader in a time of drought and climatic change, Joseph considered a very uncertain future and economic downturn. Fear was injected into society. Joseph endured each crisis without a loving, supportive family. No one sent flowers to ease his pain.
Hollywood might cast Joseph as a man who finally had a chance to even the score. Or he could be scripted to provide relief only to his father. He could write a check to provide food for all the brothers, and remain detached and alone in Pharaoh’s garden. Yet the Joseph of Genesis says: “Come, be with me.” He extends full forgiveness by offering first tears, then words, a plan for reunion, provision of basic necessities and finally an avenue of a relationship. Joseph and his family live out a famine in a newly tilled garden.
Joseph’s relationship with God was strong, seeing that the Lord was in charge, in spite of tumultuous events. Joseph had a vision that God was working out good for himself, society, and his estranged family, irregardless of what circumstances dictated. Even though he had suffered from brothers who had wrongly mistreated him, only to cover up misdeeds with lies, Joseph had the spiritual maturity to see the hand of God moving goodness into their lives. A person of vision, Joseph looked to see God and saw evidence of His work. Joseph was balanced in acting with forgiveness and speaking to give God the glory as he reached out to his brothers. He was bold to declare his understanding of God.
I compare the transgressions which Joseph compared to offenses received in my life. I am convicted, for my experiences trifle the pain Joseph felt. As a teen I wondered if I could forgive the same offenses Joseph did. As an adult I struggle to forgive small matters. To whom should I say these words: “Come, be with me?” Who do I need to listen to as they repeat these words to me? Joseph’s example is worthy of my reading and meditation.
Prayer for the Victims of Natural Disaster
My heavenly Father, turn a gracious ear to me and hear this prayer for the people of the Gulf Coast, Haiti, and Chile who have been afflicted after waters raged and the earth moved. Before you, I remember those who feel like broken pottery for they have known distress, sorrow, and grief. Free them from such negative emotions. Help them to seek you as their refuge and strength. Hear their cries for mercy when they call upon you for help. Let that help be without limits. May they not be forgotten. Let them know your safety and the greatness of your goodness. Remove their fears by allowing them to experience your grace. Enable afflicted people to abide under the shadow of the Almighty. Rescue them and bring them to honor. Continue to restore shriveled lives, families, and communities. Establish the work of the hands of all who journey into disaster areas so that they can effectively share your aid, joy, and loving kindness. I pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen
Musings on Mississippi
Sitting between ornate columns, wide Palladian windows, and under a grand chandelier, I worshipped in Christ Church, Cambridge, Massachusetts on Pentecost Sunday, 2006. This historic church, across the street from Harvard, has seen General George Washington as worshiper, collegian Theodore Roosevelt as Sunday School teacher, and Martin Luther King, Jr. as a speaker. That Pentecost Sunday I meditated on the oft repeated final prayer of the Eucharist: “And now, Father, send us out to do the work you have given us to do, to love and serve you as faithful witnesses of Christ our Lord." I considered the multiple ways God has answered that supplication for the educators, leaders, and people of contribution, who have prayed a similar petition in that sanctuary. With that in mind, I prayed the familiar words with new fervency. In the year since, the work I have been given to do has included completing my 30th year as an educator, the challenges of caring for the health needs of an aging parent, a course covering Steinbeck, and two service trips to the Gulf Coast.
Pentecost Sunday, 2007 I was at another Christ Church. Built on the foundation of the original building, the small sanctuary is an aluminum Quonset hut with few windows. Recent history was evident in the surroundings, for Hurricane Katrina sent a storm tide 30 feet deep over a building sitting in clear view of the Gulf of Mexico. There is much work to do here. Pentecost was the first time the original church had an empowered mission or purpose, thus it was a fitting weekend to serve. This was an occasion to celebrate the Spirit that Jesus sent, and use the gifts that this Spirit has given us in order to build up each other, the church, and society. It was a time to be led by a unifying Spirit to cross artificial boundaries of race and culture.
The service team I joined journeyed to Bay St. Louis, Mississippi for a time of rebuilding. In “The Bay”, there remains extensive rebuilding to be done. The team had four days of vigor, excitement, energy, movement, and fresh commitment. We opened hands which initially were eager, yet found them tired at day’s end. Our purpose was to fill our hands with good things. We were assembled together to practically share love. As children of God we endeavored to renew the face of neighborhoods. Our team saw that a community was tidied by the construction of a new tool shed. Exposed wood sides of other sheds were protected by paint. Foundation was prepared for another dwelling. Trees were staked so that a park could flourish with added greenery. Kitchen cabinets were hung in a home needing total interior restoration. Electrical wiring was improved which will shed light in a yard where thieves steal at night. In faith, these acts of love and goodness leave peace with residents.
We met people whose hearts have been filled with sorrow. Their experience has been full of suffering, yet they show that their suffering has produced endurance. The stories they share and the thanks they give reveal that their endurance has produced character. Two of those I encountered have suffered multiple afflictions. Experiencing only Katrina would have been enough to bear, yet life has additional burdens.
Annette is a middle aged lady who owns a ranch home about two miles from the shore. Somehow an iron mast from a fishing boat found its way into her back yard to become stuck in the soil. It must weigh 200 pounds. That portion of her yard was overgrown and infested with weeds. An otherwise neat yard had an unkempt corner. Annette desired for the corner to be cleaned, yet she grinned while insisting on keeping the mast to rename it USS Katrina. She began to tell her story. We listened to stories of neighbors still having nightmares and children in fear of a simple rainstorm. Annette suffers from Lupus. Then she began to tell of her son by showing his photographs on her cell phone. Both pictures show a young man attached to a respirator. He has since died. One woman has suffered multiple afflictions. Yet after inspecting her clean yard, we left her smiling. Hopefully she received a small gift of healing. She gave us joyous nicknames, expressed appreciation, photographed us, and gave genuine hugs. Annette quickly departed saying she did not want to cry.
Kenneth is also middle aged; a tall burly man living in a one room shack on a Mississippi dirt road. He does not even have a FEMA trailer. The day I spent on his property made me feel as if I were with the Joad family in The Grapes of Wrath. John Steinbeck wrote: “How can we live without our lives? How will we know it’s us without our past?” Kenneth’s trailer – his past – had been blown away not by a dust storm, but waves. Former days of good health appear to also be in his past. Yet he is a man who lives, without being wiped out or licked. Perhaps Kenneth is Steinbeck’s “lonesome animal.” He is a quiet man who speaks infrequently. Suffering with throat cancer, it is an effort for Kenneth to talk, plus an effort for the listener to comprehend him. Yet his words were only positive ones, even when showing us pictures of Katrina’s damage. Next to his dilapidated home rises the beginning of a small new house, high on stilts. Our tasks included cutting plastic to cover the particle board, wrapping the home in the plastic, installing windows, and holding the ladder. By the end of that day progress was evident with the wrapping and new windows very visible. Hopefully this was the work of a small miracle on that dusty road. Upon our departure the burly man photographed us and told us he loved us. Those words were most easy for us to comprehend. I felt the Pentecost fire that warms, energizes and excites. We quickly departed not wanting to cry.
This was the work we were given to do on a long weekend. Most of our projects were done midstream. Often we picked up where an earlier mission team had stopped. After our brief time ran out, we left unfinished projects for another set of volunteers. It is my hope that the Lord will use the labors of many to give strength to the people of Bay St. Louis. May He give the blessing of peace to those who have suffered much and have fear and troubled hearts.
Pentecost Sunday, 2007 I was at another Christ Church. Built on the foundation of the original building, the small sanctuary is an aluminum Quonset hut with few windows. Recent history was evident in the surroundings, for Hurricane Katrina sent a storm tide 30 feet deep over a building sitting in clear view of the Gulf of Mexico. There is much work to do here. Pentecost was the first time the original church had an empowered mission or purpose, thus it was a fitting weekend to serve. This was an occasion to celebrate the Spirit that Jesus sent, and use the gifts that this Spirit has given us in order to build up each other, the church, and society. It was a time to be led by a unifying Spirit to cross artificial boundaries of race and culture.
The service team I joined journeyed to Bay St. Louis, Mississippi for a time of rebuilding. In “The Bay”, there remains extensive rebuilding to be done. The team had four days of vigor, excitement, energy, movement, and fresh commitment. We opened hands which initially were eager, yet found them tired at day’s end. Our purpose was to fill our hands with good things. We were assembled together to practically share love. As children of God we endeavored to renew the face of neighborhoods. Our team saw that a community was tidied by the construction of a new tool shed. Exposed wood sides of other sheds were protected by paint. Foundation was prepared for another dwelling. Trees were staked so that a park could flourish with added greenery. Kitchen cabinets were hung in a home needing total interior restoration. Electrical wiring was improved which will shed light in a yard where thieves steal at night. In faith, these acts of love and goodness leave peace with residents.
We met people whose hearts have been filled with sorrow. Their experience has been full of suffering, yet they show that their suffering has produced endurance. The stories they share and the thanks they give reveal that their endurance has produced character. Two of those I encountered have suffered multiple afflictions. Experiencing only Katrina would have been enough to bear, yet life has additional burdens.
Annette is a middle aged lady who owns a ranch home about two miles from the shore. Somehow an iron mast from a fishing boat found its way into her back yard to become stuck in the soil. It must weigh 200 pounds. That portion of her yard was overgrown and infested with weeds. An otherwise neat yard had an unkempt corner. Annette desired for the corner to be cleaned, yet she grinned while insisting on keeping the mast to rename it USS Katrina. She began to tell her story. We listened to stories of neighbors still having nightmares and children in fear of a simple rainstorm. Annette suffers from Lupus. Then she began to tell of her son by showing his photographs on her cell phone. Both pictures show a young man attached to a respirator. He has since died. One woman has suffered multiple afflictions. Yet after inspecting her clean yard, we left her smiling. Hopefully she received a small gift of healing. She gave us joyous nicknames, expressed appreciation, photographed us, and gave genuine hugs. Annette quickly departed saying she did not want to cry.
Kenneth is also middle aged; a tall burly man living in a one room shack on a Mississippi dirt road. He does not even have a FEMA trailer. The day I spent on his property made me feel as if I were with the Joad family in The Grapes of Wrath. John Steinbeck wrote: “How can we live without our lives? How will we know it’s us without our past?” Kenneth’s trailer – his past – had been blown away not by a dust storm, but waves. Former days of good health appear to also be in his past. Yet he is a man who lives, without being wiped out or licked. Perhaps Kenneth is Steinbeck’s “lonesome animal.” He is a quiet man who speaks infrequently. Suffering with throat cancer, it is an effort for Kenneth to talk, plus an effort for the listener to comprehend him. Yet his words were only positive ones, even when showing us pictures of Katrina’s damage. Next to his dilapidated home rises the beginning of a small new house, high on stilts. Our tasks included cutting plastic to cover the particle board, wrapping the home in the plastic, installing windows, and holding the ladder. By the end of that day progress was evident with the wrapping and new windows very visible. Hopefully this was the work of a small miracle on that dusty road. Upon our departure the burly man photographed us and told us he loved us. Those words were most easy for us to comprehend. I felt the Pentecost fire that warms, energizes and excites. We quickly departed not wanting to cry.
This was the work we were given to do on a long weekend. Most of our projects were done midstream. Often we picked up where an earlier mission team had stopped. After our brief time ran out, we left unfinished projects for another set of volunteers. It is my hope that the Lord will use the labors of many to give strength to the people of Bay St. Louis. May He give the blessing of peace to those who have suffered much and have fear and troubled hearts.
Musings on Mold
In 2006, I was privileged to share a weekend of service to Hurricane Katrina victims with eight church members. It was an honor to serve among people committed to uniquely exercising mercy and compassion. As I journeyed into the heat and humidity of New Orleans, I had a mixture of eagerness and anguish in my soul. I desired to have a wealth of generosity, but inwardly was skeptical of how much help I could be in demolishing a home. Entering the city, I was emotionally overwhelmed by the pervasiveness of the damage. News coverage had been inadequate to convey the seemingly unending miles of dilapidated homes, businesses and apartment complexes. I struggled to contemplate the question: “What can we possibly achieve in two days when surrounded by such destruction?” Yet life is already full of multiple tasks which initially overwhelm: the education of a child, entering a career, a major move, the planting of a row of small trees. Katrina’s damage overwhelms, yes. It presents a new challenge to our generation. Much must be cleaned and removed before the commencement of the rebuilding of homes, communities, and most importantly lives. Multitudes of people are needed for this endeavor. I entered New Orleans only one partially eager person.
We were introduced to one home. Inside warped ceiling fans revealed how high the flood waters had surged. Below everything was in waste. Household items scattered everywhere revealed the power of water. Dishes still in the drainer revealed that the owner left the kitchen ready for a new meal which would never be served. The appearance and smell of mold revealed the slow destruction of items which had been vital to the life and family history of those who had lived there. The open, helpful hands of my co-workers began to reveal the love of God.
As all contents were removed, it was helpful to remember we were not merely cleaning, but taking someone’s life and throwing it on the curb. While working, we always looked for items of value to keep. We carefully placed aside insurance policies, birth certificates, financial statements, gifts, and photos. Something mysterious happened while sifting through the contents. Like archaeologists on a dig, we began to know and like the owner. Even though you become weary from heat and labor, a transformation occurs. Muscles ache, but your attitude shifts for you are no longer just clearing, but serving the owner of the home. Stripping a home down to only the wooden studs gets it ready for renovation which will eventually help the family get back on its feet. A community is made up of families. The more homes which are renovated, the better chance a battered city has of being rebuilt.
Community service in America is often motivated by gimmicks: a race, celebrity endorsement, free t-shirts, fun and games. Our culture often reacts when giving is fun. One worthwhile ministry properly ensures that celebration occurs when a new home is constructed. Participants gain satisfaction over the result. “Mucking houses” is the polar opposite. Devoid of gimmicks, there is neither fanfare nor music; no t-shirt either. Success is measured by an empty house and a growing pile of rubbish. The work, not in the best of conditions, is tiring. There is risk of injury through an accident or exposure to mold. To participate one must struggle to sacrifice; a very Biblical concept I would rather avoid than embrace. Yet suffering is an essential part of what Christ calls redemption. I felt a sense of redemption as I experienced something special in that home. Giving freely to the poor allowed me to hear hope in the voices of New Orleans residents I conversed with. I interacted with sterling examples of positive attitudes in the midst of affliction. I returned home, free of anguish and bewilderment, with more hope in my heart. I gained a greater sense of unity with church members. Through a very practical project, I learned a valuable lesson in mercy and compassion for downtrodden people.
Shelter is a basic necessity; one which has been literally washed away from thousands. Working in the midst of this horrific destruction caused me again to remember that I am a member of the household of God. The Lord is our dwelling place through all generations and circumstances. Even though I witnessed the loss of many homes, I have not lost my home in the Lord. After sifting through a destroyed home I am reminded of how temporal a house is, and how constant God is. This service provided a living example of an old lesson: “Oh God our help in ages past; our hope for years to come. Be Thou our guard while troubles last; and our eternal home.”
It is time to open our hands to help those who are in need due to this loss. Multitudes of workers are needed to join in the task of cleaning out these homes. Katrina may no longer be in the news, but the destruction remains. We can not forget the remnants of this crisis. Restoration is an immense task which requires a huge amount of labor. Yet it is a job which can be done if we respond. Yes, it a challenging task. If you should choose to accept it, you will leave New Orleans with a sense of enrichment and fulfillment. Go, and take someone with you.
We were introduced to one home. Inside warped ceiling fans revealed how high the flood waters had surged. Below everything was in waste. Household items scattered everywhere revealed the power of water. Dishes still in the drainer revealed that the owner left the kitchen ready for a new meal which would never be served. The appearance and smell of mold revealed the slow destruction of items which had been vital to the life and family history of those who had lived there. The open, helpful hands of my co-workers began to reveal the love of God.
As all contents were removed, it was helpful to remember we were not merely cleaning, but taking someone’s life and throwing it on the curb. While working, we always looked for items of value to keep. We carefully placed aside insurance policies, birth certificates, financial statements, gifts, and photos. Something mysterious happened while sifting through the contents. Like archaeologists on a dig, we began to know and like the owner. Even though you become weary from heat and labor, a transformation occurs. Muscles ache, but your attitude shifts for you are no longer just clearing, but serving the owner of the home. Stripping a home down to only the wooden studs gets it ready for renovation which will eventually help the family get back on its feet. A community is made up of families. The more homes which are renovated, the better chance a battered city has of being rebuilt.
Community service in America is often motivated by gimmicks: a race, celebrity endorsement, free t-shirts, fun and games. Our culture often reacts when giving is fun. One worthwhile ministry properly ensures that celebration occurs when a new home is constructed. Participants gain satisfaction over the result. “Mucking houses” is the polar opposite. Devoid of gimmicks, there is neither fanfare nor music; no t-shirt either. Success is measured by an empty house and a growing pile of rubbish. The work, not in the best of conditions, is tiring. There is risk of injury through an accident or exposure to mold. To participate one must struggle to sacrifice; a very Biblical concept I would rather avoid than embrace. Yet suffering is an essential part of what Christ calls redemption. I felt a sense of redemption as I experienced something special in that home. Giving freely to the poor allowed me to hear hope in the voices of New Orleans residents I conversed with. I interacted with sterling examples of positive attitudes in the midst of affliction. I returned home, free of anguish and bewilderment, with more hope in my heart. I gained a greater sense of unity with church members. Through a very practical project, I learned a valuable lesson in mercy and compassion for downtrodden people.
Shelter is a basic necessity; one which has been literally washed away from thousands. Working in the midst of this horrific destruction caused me again to remember that I am a member of the household of God. The Lord is our dwelling place through all generations and circumstances. Even though I witnessed the loss of many homes, I have not lost my home in the Lord. After sifting through a destroyed home I am reminded of how temporal a house is, and how constant God is. This service provided a living example of an old lesson: “Oh God our help in ages past; our hope for years to come. Be Thou our guard while troubles last; and our eternal home.”
It is time to open our hands to help those who are in need due to this loss. Multitudes of workers are needed to join in the task of cleaning out these homes. Katrina may no longer be in the news, but the destruction remains. We can not forget the remnants of this crisis. Restoration is an immense task which requires a huge amount of labor. Yet it is a job which can be done if we respond. Yes, it a challenging task. If you should choose to accept it, you will leave New Orleans with a sense of enrichment and fulfillment. Go, and take someone with you.
Letter to the Editor
Published in Gwinnett Daily Post, November, 2003
To the editor:
Schools should be a microcosm of life, preparing students to enter the real world. Yet recently an area school announced plans to pay students for merely attending. Does this newspaper give "Post Bucks" to employees who simply show up? My work place does not, but has a firm expectation for punctuality and diligence. Reward and recognition are powerful tools to instill excellence. They should be used with prudence and for efforts of true merit. Rewarding what many consider to be the minimum expectation for education , attendance, cheapens the idea of positive reinforcement. How will these students be prepared to enter the workforce where very different standards exist?
The concept of duty has eroded from our culture. Families have a duty to see that children attend school This may mean that parents remain at home before school to escort a student to the bus, or drive teens to campus and watch them enter the building. It may also mean that students missing school loose their driving privilege. A parental duty is to see that children are in bed at a reasonable hour and rise and shine the next day to be on time for school. George MacDonald, the innovator of modern fantasy, wrote realistically on duty. "'To do one's duty will make anyone conceited who only does it sometimes. What honest boy would pride himself on not picking pockets? A thief who was trying to reform would. Until our duty becomes as common to us as breathing, we are poor creatures." The idea of rewarding masses of pupils for basic behavior necessary to function in society, creates a class of students too dependent on supervision, and ill prepared to live as independent, productive citizens. It robs them the opportunity to learn of duty.
As a former Meadowcreek teacher, I encountered some of the most amazing students in my career. One of my most memorable was a Vietnamese girl, afflicted with throat cancer. While other students were absent with minor aches, she struggled to live. There was a time when we were not sure she would survive to graduation. Yet after her treatments, she returned with a wig, raspy voice, and a ready smile. At the end of the day she appeared exhausted, yet would not even consider a reduced schedule in order to go home to rest. She was not absent again. At the end of that semester she had earned all A's. The positive impression she built in my memory is deep, not only because she excelled, but because she and her family were faithful to her educational goals. They were bound around her neck and written on the tablet of her heart. A wise teacher once said: "Whoever is faithful in very little is faithful also in much." This student was fortunate to live to march to Pomp and Circumstance. No doubt she is successful today due to her faithful attendance.
At Meadowcreek, for one year I had the responsibility of giving Inspirations at PTSA and Honors Nights. After the following remarks, numerous parents approached me to express thanks and agreement. "Be prepared to labor for what is needed and what is right without recognition and reward. Recently I had upset students in my room, bemoaning the fact that in an important service project they came early, worked hard, and stayed late - only to have no one notice or voice appreciation. Such is the reality of life. Much good goes unrewarded. Strive to do great things that are important, with your only motivation being that they are proper and necessary. Steer away from the expectation of fanfare or headlines. Strive to do the best you can, in whatever tasks you become involved in. If you make headlines by discovering a cure for cancer, or if you scrub the hospital floor, do it with a sense of excellence."
Giving "Mustang Bucks" is just horsing around with students. It is not an idea worthy of commendation. Students and families need to be encouraged to grow in faithfulness and duty.
To the editor:
Schools should be a microcosm of life, preparing students to enter the real world. Yet recently an area school announced plans to pay students for merely attending. Does this newspaper give "Post Bucks" to employees who simply show up? My work place does not, but has a firm expectation for punctuality and diligence. Reward and recognition are powerful tools to instill excellence. They should be used with prudence and for efforts of true merit. Rewarding what many consider to be the minimum expectation for education , attendance, cheapens the idea of positive reinforcement. How will these students be prepared to enter the workforce where very different standards exist?
The concept of duty has eroded from our culture. Families have a duty to see that children attend school This may mean that parents remain at home before school to escort a student to the bus, or drive teens to campus and watch them enter the building. It may also mean that students missing school loose their driving privilege. A parental duty is to see that children are in bed at a reasonable hour and rise and shine the next day to be on time for school. George MacDonald, the innovator of modern fantasy, wrote realistically on duty. "'To do one's duty will make anyone conceited who only does it sometimes. What honest boy would pride himself on not picking pockets? A thief who was trying to reform would. Until our duty becomes as common to us as breathing, we are poor creatures." The idea of rewarding masses of pupils for basic behavior necessary to function in society, creates a class of students too dependent on supervision, and ill prepared to live as independent, productive citizens. It robs them the opportunity to learn of duty.
As a former Meadowcreek teacher, I encountered some of the most amazing students in my career. One of my most memorable was a Vietnamese girl, afflicted with throat cancer. While other students were absent with minor aches, she struggled to live. There was a time when we were not sure she would survive to graduation. Yet after her treatments, she returned with a wig, raspy voice, and a ready smile. At the end of the day she appeared exhausted, yet would not even consider a reduced schedule in order to go home to rest. She was not absent again. At the end of that semester she had earned all A's. The positive impression she built in my memory is deep, not only because she excelled, but because she and her family were faithful to her educational goals. They were bound around her neck and written on the tablet of her heart. A wise teacher once said: "Whoever is faithful in very little is faithful also in much." This student was fortunate to live to march to Pomp and Circumstance. No doubt she is successful today due to her faithful attendance.
At Meadowcreek, for one year I had the responsibility of giving Inspirations at PTSA and Honors Nights. After the following remarks, numerous parents approached me to express thanks and agreement. "Be prepared to labor for what is needed and what is right without recognition and reward. Recently I had upset students in my room, bemoaning the fact that in an important service project they came early, worked hard, and stayed late - only to have no one notice or voice appreciation. Such is the reality of life. Much good goes unrewarded. Strive to do great things that are important, with your only motivation being that they are proper and necessary. Steer away from the expectation of fanfare or headlines. Strive to do the best you can, in whatever tasks you become involved in. If you make headlines by discovering a cure for cancer, or if you scrub the hospital floor, do it with a sense of excellence."
Giving "Mustang Bucks" is just horsing around with students. It is not an idea worthy of commendation. Students and families need to be encouraged to grow in faithfulness and duty.
After finding this hero in my seaweed, my career changed
“You will have a new boy from China in your room and he does not speak any English.” The first time I heard such a statement was in 1980 and I thought the principal was joking. Immigration was just beginning to move into suburban Atlanta as the eighties began. Yet the year Jimmy Chang was in my classroom left an enduring impression and reshaped my career.
Few in the school system knew what to do with this student. The ESOL teacher came once a week, worked with Jimmy for thirty minutes, and quickly conferred with me in the hall. Thus, it was left to me to figure out how to instruct him. On the first day of school, I had taken the students to a bathroom break, and then out to PE. Jimmy accidentally took his break on the field, soiling himself and his clothes to the extent that everyone knew of the accident. The first problem I ever solved with an immigrant student was a big, messy one. On the spot I quickly learned that in a crisis you find a translator. Outside the bathroom door I used the student to convey to Jimmy that he would be all right. However, I went home that night exhausted, uncertain over how to proceed, and hoping never to have another ESOL student.
As the year progressed, Jimmy became our class project. Students who finished their work early came to love sitting on the floor with a picture dictionary or reading books to teach Jimmy. Daily, a growing box of index cards went to lunch where the students taught Jimmy the names of new foods he was eating. In math though, he could compute far above his American peers. Jimmy would take his turn at the board to do his problem, yet he could never explain the process. Suddenly one day, after his turn, he spontaneously began to tell how he subtracted by borrowing. Upon his finishing, the class broke out into applause which thundered and swelled. The cheers which filled our classroom were like those reserved for the greatest performance in the finest concert hall. We all were vested in Jimmy’s English acquisition and celebrated from our hearts that proud moment. The remainder of that year was filled with more success. On the last week of school, our class had the responsibility of providing a thought for the day and leading the Pledge over the intercom. Thus, our final lesson was teaching Jimmy the Pledge of Allegiance. When he led the school on the last day of the year, we made the recitation with misty eyes.
The impression of Jimmy’s success forever shaped me as a teacher, for I grew to like the challenge of working with immigrants and found satisfaction in how visibly they learned.
When I entered the second ESOL teacher training class at Georgia State University, I learned that these students endure a silent period when they are not producing English, but are absorbing it. Research shows that second language learners gain as much language from their peers as from the teachers. Thus, much of what I had figured out on my own through necessity proved to be successful pedagogy for assisting an ESOL student. These forms of teaching have been used countless times in my years as a teacher to learners of English.
In those years I have worked with hundreds of immigrant pupils, supporting them through many problems and a multitude of successes. Jimmy Chang’s presence in my classroom in 1980 shaped me as a teacher, for it encouraged me to enter ESOL education, which I have seen grow from a small program into one which is currently an area of critical need. I teach international students for low English proficiency means they have the least chance of academic success in high school. I love the challenge and responsibility of standing as a light in their darkness. It is my job to make learning possible for pupils in the most impossible of environments. This is done by encouraging those who are faithful to study, and cheering on those who are weary from the burden of being so far behind. Instructing Jimmy, and the others who followed him, shaped me as a teacher. Through working with my pupils I have learned that effective teaching searches to find every chance for even the least capable student to grow academically.
Few in the school system knew what to do with this student. The ESOL teacher came once a week, worked with Jimmy for thirty minutes, and quickly conferred with me in the hall. Thus, it was left to me to figure out how to instruct him. On the first day of school, I had taken the students to a bathroom break, and then out to PE. Jimmy accidentally took his break on the field, soiling himself and his clothes to the extent that everyone knew of the accident. The first problem I ever solved with an immigrant student was a big, messy one. On the spot I quickly learned that in a crisis you find a translator. Outside the bathroom door I used the student to convey to Jimmy that he would be all right. However, I went home that night exhausted, uncertain over how to proceed, and hoping never to have another ESOL student.
As the year progressed, Jimmy became our class project. Students who finished their work early came to love sitting on the floor with a picture dictionary or reading books to teach Jimmy. Daily, a growing box of index cards went to lunch where the students taught Jimmy the names of new foods he was eating. In math though, he could compute far above his American peers. Jimmy would take his turn at the board to do his problem, yet he could never explain the process. Suddenly one day, after his turn, he spontaneously began to tell how he subtracted by borrowing. Upon his finishing, the class broke out into applause which thundered and swelled. The cheers which filled our classroom were like those reserved for the greatest performance in the finest concert hall. We all were vested in Jimmy’s English acquisition and celebrated from our hearts that proud moment. The remainder of that year was filled with more success. On the last week of school, our class had the responsibility of providing a thought for the day and leading the Pledge over the intercom. Thus, our final lesson was teaching Jimmy the Pledge of Allegiance. When he led the school on the last day of the year, we made the recitation with misty eyes.
The impression of Jimmy’s success forever shaped me as a teacher, for I grew to like the challenge of working with immigrants and found satisfaction in how visibly they learned.
When I entered the second ESOL teacher training class at Georgia State University, I learned that these students endure a silent period when they are not producing English, but are absorbing it. Research shows that second language learners gain as much language from their peers as from the teachers. Thus, much of what I had figured out on my own through necessity proved to be successful pedagogy for assisting an ESOL student. These forms of teaching have been used countless times in my years as a teacher to learners of English.
In those years I have worked with hundreds of immigrant pupils, supporting them through many problems and a multitude of successes. Jimmy Chang’s presence in my classroom in 1980 shaped me as a teacher, for it encouraged me to enter ESOL education, which I have seen grow from a small program into one which is currently an area of critical need. I teach international students for low English proficiency means they have the least chance of academic success in high school. I love the challenge and responsibility of standing as a light in their darkness. It is my job to make learning possible for pupils in the most impossible of environments. This is done by encouraging those who are faithful to study, and cheering on those who are weary from the burden of being so far behind. Instructing Jimmy, and the others who followed him, shaped me as a teacher. Through working with my pupils I have learned that effective teaching searches to find every chance for even the least capable student to grow academically.
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