Sometimes That's Just the Way It Is

     It's been a while since I last posted, but we've been really busy with family matters. Chris's brother is in hospice care at the Masonic Home in Burlington. Her mom had a heart attack last week and was in Robert Wood Johnson in New Brunswick. On top of that, Chris has been handling all of the financial responsibilities for her brother's personal life and for his care in hospice. So we've been doing a lot of running around to the Masonic Home, to the hospital, to office buildings and, when possible, to the grocery store for our own lives here on the farm.
     I'm personally without a car these days since the one I was using finally gave up the ghost. But, hey, it was a great car in the sense that it got me to where I needed to be for the last year and a half or so and it made it to 260,000 miles. And considering the fact that I only paid a dollar for it, what's there to complain about?
     Also since I last posted, we've been to Maine once again. We never seem to have enough time up there to satisfy our spirits, but what little time we did spend was as enjoyable as usual. I managed to get to one of my favorite places--the Farnsworth Museum in Rockland,ME. They particularly feature the paintings of Andrew Wyeth along with some of his father's (N.C. Wyeth) and his son's (Jamie Wyeth). I am a major Wyeth fan and have also been to the Brandywine River Museum down in Brandywine, PA, and had a wonderful tour given by his granddaughter. I highly recommend that as a day trip for those of you who are in this general area.
     But life goes on in its inevitable way, doesn't it? We want full control over the circumstances and conditions of our lives, and sometimes we actually have it in a limited sort of way, but the key word there is "limited." The fact is that we can decide to be healthier by doing the things that make that possible. We can decide to pursue certain goals, and if we have the determination and persistence, we can usually bring about the desired results or something similar thereof.Yet no one is guaranteed a life of smooth sailing--not even the wealthiest, most intelligent, healthiest, most religious, or kindest people in the world.
     So what does this unpredictable nature of life mean? I think it means that we should go ahead and live life with a sense of joy and laughter when things are going well, a sense of openness and prayer when they are not, and a sense of thanksgiving that life overall is in the hands of a Divine Spirit whose wisdom and understanding far exceeds our own--even all of ours put together.

Sometimes that's just the way it is.

     
     

    


    

You've Got a Friend

Spirit cloud looking down on me as I walk the labrynth

 The name Walter H. Beckwith won't mean anything to any of you, but it means a great deal to me. He was the man who is responsible for me even thinking about becoming a minister. For some reason, I'm thinking of him today and remembering what a strong, positive influence he had on my life.

He was appointed the pastor of the Medford [United] Methodist Church when I was 14 years old. He was a recent seminary graduate and was finishing up his probationary status in the Southern New Jersey Annual Conference. He was then about 25 years old as best as I can remember and was filled with youthful vitality.

Up until his arrival on the local church scene, I had the impression that all ministers were old and always dressed in dark suits, and that church in general was for old people. Even so, I was fairly active in the Methodist Youth Fellowship of which, by default, I was elected president (no one else was interested in the job). 

With his arrival, suddenly there was a surge in attendance at youth group meetings and it became one of the best things that had ever happened to me. We met every Sunday at 6:30 p.m. and then if we stayed for Evening Service at 7:30, we could go to the party afterward. We would go to someone's house each week and play games and have snacks. Once a month we would have a special event like going bowling, having a campfire with hot dogs and smores, going on a hayride, or at Halloween we would put a float in the parade.

He really knew how to get kids excited about church and still have fun in their lives. It changed everything for me in the way I saw religion. Then one night when he dropped me off at my house, he told me that he thought I would be a great asset to the ministry. Me? Really?  I went in the house and told my mother and she said that I shouldn't get too caught up with that idea because no one in our family goes to college...we don't have that kind of money. So I learned not to say anything more about that to her, but I had a feeling that maybe that's what I was supposed to be. 

Without going into further detail, unless you think you might interested in the longer story sometime (no obligation there), the rest, as they say, is history.  By the way, my parents were very proud and pleased as they witnessed my graduation from Princeton Seminary in the Princeton University Chapel and my ordination at St. Peter's Church in Ocean City, NJ. Also, by the way, my father died 3 months later, and when we were cleaning out his things, I found a copy of a hymn on his nightstand that was sung as an anthem at my ordination: "Our Times Are in Thy Hands."

And no truer words were spoken--our times are in God's hands. But as we make these life journeys, we don't travel alone and we don't become who we are alone either. Here and there significant people have spoken a word or a phrase or a whole paragraph that has set us on the path we're meant to go. It might be a parent, a neighbor, a friend, a child, a teacher, a relative or any one of a hundred other possibilities. But one of those at the top of my list is the Rev. Walter H. Beckwith. He died a few years back, but I was able to speak with him before that and to thank  him for his role in my life.

                        From left to right: Chris, Kevin Kemp, Ellie, my sister Betty Lou and Gary. 

 

Thoughts On A Rainy Day

     I’ve been thinking lately about the meaning of life and the meaning of my life in particular. Do you ever do that?

     I realize that that’s an age-old truth that some of the greatest minds in history have endeavored to uncover. Theologians, philosophers, and poets have all come up with various interpretations…even the meager likes of us preachers have presumed to give some answers to questioning minds. One hopes that those who have listened to us have been discerning enough to dismiss some of our ranting and raving about what a sorry lot we human beings are and the awful state the world is in.

      Is there one single meaning that universally applies to every life? Also, what do we mean by “meaning?”

     To my surprise many of the things I was told as a young man and many of the things I believed in no longer seem either true or relevant to the way things really are—not everything, but many. I don’t know if that means I’ve gotten older and wiser or just older. I would love to believe that it is the former—older and wiser. But, of course, that depends a great deal on the definition of “wiser.”

     Those of us who are clergy have a tendency to think that our Sunday morning words are the truth and nothing but the truth, so help us God. But I can’t tell you how many times after a sermon that I have wanted to slip quietly away during the final hymn of the service, realizing the inadequacy of what I just proclaimed to be the meaning of a particular passage of Scripture and thereby a segment of the meaning of life itself.

     If indeed I am older and wiser, the wisdom I have come to is this: God has given us the gift of life to decide for ourselves what the meaning is. For some it is about earning proper credits for the next life; for some it is fame and fortune; for some it is making this world a better place for all people; for some it is finding the way to true happiness (that’s what the Dalai Lama says it is); for some it is all about living out the work ethic; for some it is being nice (which a friend of mine said is the simple definition of being Christian); for some it is learning and growing; for some it is art or music. I could go on and list several other options, but I’m sure you get the idea.

     On this somewhat gentle rainy day, the meaning of life, at least to me at the moment is to be thankful. Come to think of it, maybe that’s the meaning everyday and all the rest is living with an open mind and heart for whatever may come my way. John Lennon said: "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans."

Yet and Still

So today I am about nothing in particular except to think about ways to improve my life.  I say that not because there's anything wrong with my life, but because to not think along those lines is to resign myself to the way things are as being enough. In other words, no need for more growth intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, or in my general well-being. That idea sounds as if I would be ready for the proverbial "rocking chair."

My recent hospital stay has made me very reflective in some ways. Things could have turned out a lot differently than they did. I could have ended up with a full-blown stroke that left me paralyzed or even led to my demise. Instead I got a tap on the shoulder from some spirit guide that whispered in my ear, "Jack, relax, enjoy life, laugh, love, and do what you can to make the most of the years you have left on this planet." 

There are some things that I know I probably won't be able to accomplish. I won't become that rock star that I wanted to be when I was seventeen; I won't grow any taller--in fact, I'm getting shorter than my original towering height of 5'7"; I won't ever become that world-famous preacher that I thought I might want to be when I was in my first year of college in North Carolina; there's a pretty good chance that I'll never write that great American novel that's Number 1 on the New York Times' Best Seller List for weeks on end; and for sure, I won't get any younger, chronologically speaking.

So where does that leave me in the grand scheme of things? Well, I can still play the guitar and sing for my personal pleasure and for anyone else who may enjoy what talent I possess along those lines; and I can practice and even get better in some ways. I may not be able to grow any taller physically but I can stand erect and be thankful that I can still be up on two feet. I can work on my skills as a speaker/preacher and treat them with respect as a form of who I am, and give thanks for those who are willing to listen to what I have to say. I can continue to write with a sense of purpose and enjoyment because you don't have to be on any list of best-sellers to be qualified to do so. And I can continue to work on not letting an old person into my form.

 The bottom line is this: the meaning of our lives is not based upon fame or fortune. It's based on how much we treasure it ourselves as each new day dawns as a gift from God.

Another one of Life's Realities

I haven't written in awhile--ever since we got back from a terrific vacation in the Florida Keys. It was a wonderful birthday present from my wife and I guess that in some ways I'm still under the spell. On the other hand, life's realities have caught up with me in a very attention-getting way. 

Sunday night before last, I was standing talking with a friend in the living room when, suddenly, I began slurring my words and the left side of my face began to sag (not to mention that I was drooling out of that side of my mouth--oh, never mind, I just mentioned it. Not a pretty image.) 

I was having what is commonly referred to as a TIA; i.e.- a mini-stroke, mild stroke, partial stroke...something like that. Chris had been on the front porch talking with another friend and came in looking panicked as the person to whom I was speaking also was panicked and they said, "Jack, sit down." 

That was followed by a call to 911, the arrival of the police, the EMT's, and paramedics. All the while, I had no recollection that anything had occurred other than having been talking with a friend about the beautiful spring weather. It apparently had lasted about 3-4 minutes.

Needless to say, I was taken to the hospital and spent the next few days there undergoing tests, taking medications and selecting food from the hospital menu. Happily I was released without any side effects from the
"stroke." It was, however, a definite warning sign to make sure that I take my meds and continue to follow up with the appropriate appointments with my doctors. My diet has been and is almost completely vegan (with some very minute variations there from time to time) so there's no worry along those lines. I'll just continue my same healthy eating plan.

The interesting thing from all of this is that rather than being discouraged or upset, the whole experience has made me feel very positive about life. I can't explain it, but I will say this: Another of our friends who was there that night was holding my hand and had her hand on my shoulder. She's a deeply spiritual woman, but definitely not in any kooky sort of way. She suddenly said to me, "Jack, there's an angel standing right next to you." Then she described to me what she saw . Bottom line: I absolutely believe her. And I have a very deep conviction that there's one standing right next to you, too.

Free To Be and Free To Live

 THE TAIL OF A WHALE OFF PROVINCETOWN, MA on CAPE COD

     There is a story about a man who had a love for exotic birds. One day he decided that he wanted to own one. So he traveled to a place in a jungle where he had heard there were hundreds of colorful parrots. He intended to capture one and take it home and keep it in cage as a pet. And so, he did.  

      Weeks later he said to the parrot, "I'm going to return to the place where I found you. Is there anything you would like me to tell your friends back in the jungle?"

      The parrot said, "Yes. Tell them that I'm very happy living in a cage here at home with you."

      So the man went back to the very spot where he had captured his parrot and announced to all the others: "Your friend has a message that he wants me to give you. He said that he's very happy living in a cage at home with me."

      At that, one of the parrots fell off a tree branch and fell to the ground dead.

      Needless to say, the man was completely shocked! When he went back home, he told the parrot that he had delivered his message. Then he told him that as soon as he did, one of his friends fell off a branch and fell to the ground dead.

    Upon hearing that, the parrot in the cage fell off his perch to the the bottom of the cage, dead. The man was obviously very upset at this, but he reached into the cage and took out the dead parrot, opened the window and put the parrot outside, sadly intending to bury him later. 

     As soon as he did that, the presumed dead parrot got up and flew to one of the branches of a tree in the yard. The man said, "You tricked me! I thought you were dead!"

The parrot said, "No. My friend was sending me a message. He was telling me that I have to die to myself to be free to live!"

You will no doubt have your own interpretation of the meaning of that story; but as I see it, it refers to the idea that when we came into the world, the intention was for us to live lives that were free of all the things that have in any way hindered us from truly being ourselves and fully enjoying and getting the most out of life. Genetic factors aside, it's almost as if we were born with a clean slate, innocent of all fears, prejudices, self doubts and a whole lot of other negative emotions.

     Then as the years progressed, outside influences--well-meaning family, friends, and society at large--began to condition us in ways that took away our sense of well-being and freedom. We were caged up, so to speak, and prevented from being the person we perhaps most want to be. However, I don't think it's ever too late for us to liberate ourselves. What I think it takes to do that is increasing our state of mindfulness--being aware of how we think and feel and why we think and feel the way we do.
    I recommend two particular books along those lines: Mindfulness by Ellen Langer and Wherever I Go,There I Am by Jon Kabat-Zinn. There are many others on the market, but those two I think are especially good.

Chris on horseback enjoying the freedom of the ride in the hill country of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

 

I Still Believe...

Well, I’m sitting at my desk, writing this on my birthday, reflecting on the years that have passed, wondering how I got here. For those of you who may not know, I just became a seventy year old and in many ways just as naïve as ever:

I still believe that laughter is the best medicine for curing what ails you emotionally.

I still believe in magic even though Penn and Teller have tried to convince us otherwise.

I still believe that it’s possible for dreams to come true, especially when it comes to love.

I still believe that finger painting is the most fun of all the art forms I’ve ever tried (though sadly I haven’t done it since kindergarten).

I still believe that most people are nice, and those who aren’t, are just afraid to be so.

I still believe that there’s such a thing as Heaven, but that we don’t have to wait to get there to be happy.

I still believe that taking a walk in the woods on a beautiful spring day is one of the most spiritual experiences you can have.

And finally (though not really), “All work and no play truly makes Jack a dull boy.”

Please take note of the picture included with this post and you will see an owl’s face in the sky looking down on me as I walk the labyrinth that we made in the field just after the hay was mowed a couple of years ago.  That’s just one of the many reasons why I still believe after all these years of walking this planet. “A very happy unbirthday to you,” (Alice In Wonderland, Walt Disney Productions, 1951)…unless, of course, it is your birthday, in which case, Happy Birthday!