I’ll be the first to own that I’m not always so good at delivering punch lines. But, I can see humor and draw attention to it. I’ve written about it previously here and have studied for a few years ago since a colleague and former Dean lead me to Holy Humor Sunday.
Since my first writing, I’ve proposed the idea for 2012 to the Worship Committee. ‘Twill be interesting to see if they latch hold of the idea as humor in response to the defeat of the devil by the victory of Jesus over death. I’ve even got a sermon idea cooking and notes for such. It involves the devil and a game of chess…
As I’m compiling the file, I’m stumbling across things I hope to use, like this video of Beaker and the Ode to Joy.
Laugh on and praise God!
***Okay, so I can’t get the link to embed as a video clip. Will attempt again later. For now, here it is.
Springtime Companions by Mary Elise (passiflora photography)
The memory grows short as the days go by. I find myself in places that apparently cater to people who came of age in the late 80s and early 90s. The music churns through the space and I find myself rocked as if a time warp has carried me back into those moments so long ago.
Last weekend it was 99 Red Balloons. Today, it is Marc Cohn’s “True Companion.” I remember his “Walking in Memphis” rocketed him into popularity. I owned the cassette tape. Long before I knew anything about his lines, the music called out to me.
Baby I’ve been searching like everybody else
Can’t say nothing different about myself
Sometimes I’m an angel
And sometimes I’m cruel
And when it comes to love
I’m just another fool
Yes, I’ll climb a mountain
I’m gonna swim the sea
There ain’t no act of God girl
Could keep you safe from me
My arms are reaching out
Out across this canyon
I’m asking you to be my true companion
True companion
True companion
Cohn’s lyrics stir beautiful images of what it means for a man to have gained a woman’s heart and trust, the greatest achievement he’ll ever gain Still, I’ve learned even more of what it means to be “companion.”
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the notion of a companion for a while. I’ve spoken with people over the past weeks who’ve had their trust betrayed when their partner broke bread with others. Others tell me about rejection they’ve experienced by someone whom they thought was their true companion. Another tells me that one has no worth without a true companion. Of course, we hear the heart-angst in each of these.
Literally, a companion is “someone with whom you break bread.” So our companions are those with whom we share table fellowship. That might mean eucharist (communion). Or it might mean a dinner date. It could even be Manwich and Preacher Cookies after a daylong, 350 mile trip to a health specialist.
Years ago I decided that I never wanted to be married to someone with whom I sat in silence when we went out to dinner. Why would two people who have nothing to say to one another break bread together? Since then, I’ve decided that maybe sometimes, the silence is necessary.
What makes a true companion? Who is yours? What is that person like?
*Note: I came upon Mary Elise (passiflora photography) who created the image above. I think her work is wonderful. If you click on “Springtime Companions,” it will take you to her website.
Certain seasons seem to require certain songs. Followers of Jesus tend to be cyclical people. Living through the cycles of preparation for and celebration of Christmas and Easter are common to almost all of us, whether we are a part of low or high liturgical styles in our worship, or even if we don’t worship. As we approach the days leading up to Easter, those cycles of songs and texts flow through me.
I often wonder what songs and stories go with people who don’t have a particular belief system. It seems that our culture creates its own cadence. New Year’s Eve/Day flow into Presidents’ Day. St. Valentine’s turns into St. Patrick’s but these are seldom observed as people whose lives witnessed to the power of Christ, but rather as opportunities for indulgence in red and green, chocolate and beer. The first Day of Spring, Easter, Earth Day, and May Day move us through the renewal remembrances. Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. Memorial, Independence, and Labor Day mark the high moments of Summer’s beginning, peak, and ending. Times of remembrance stir with the anniversaries of September 11, Veteran’s Day, and Pearl Harbor. We delight in the fun and frivolity of Halloween. The year’s end cycles closed with times for family and friends — Thanksgiving and Christmas. But is there a common story? Is there a common anthem for these patterned times?
Not too long ago, a dear friend of mine who has long been intrigued by the new movements of Christian music shared her thoughts on the matter. One day soon, all of the old hymns will be made new. Think of Chris Tomlin’s interpretation of “Amazing Grace.” When a movie by the same title was being developed, he was asked to tweak the beloved hymn. At a concert I attended back in October, he shared that he immediately said, “No way.” Can you imagine? Cries of sacrilege would raise up from the depths of Christendom that thinks all must stay the same. But then he started doing some research. He found out that even “Amazing Grace” as we had it up until 2006 had been edited. A new verse was added and the world didn’t implode. So, after much prayer and consideration, he added one transition: “My chains are gone, I’ve been set free. My God, my Savior has ransomed me. And like a flood His mercy reigns. Unending love, Amazing grace.” It’s in keeping with the character of the song and has served to convict many a heart.
The concept of Ancient-Modern worship is an intriguing one. All things are made new. Revelation 21:5 says: “Behold, I am making all things new.” Isaiah 43:19 says: “See I am doing a new thing. Now it springs forth; can you not perceive it?” I love adaptations and reclamations of the old. It pains me to watch people in worship bored to tears by the solemn sounds of old hymns, all the while missing great teachings on theology and practice of the faith.
So I’m hoping that one day before too long, someone will adapt “Go to Dark Gethsemane.” It needs to maintain the minor key and somber character, but it needs new energy so that people can connect with the power of the song. James Montgomery (1771-1854) penned the lyrics while good Richard Redhead (1820-1901) wrote the music. The song tells the story of those last moments of Jesus’s life.
Go to dark Gethsemane, ye that feel the tempter’s power;
Your Redeemer’s conflict see, watch with Him one bitter hour,
Turn not from His griefs away; learn of Jesus Christ to pray.
See Him at the judgment hall, beaten, bound, reviled, arraigned;
O the wormwood and the gall! O the pangs His soul sustained!
Shun not suffering, shame, or loss; learn of Christ to bear the cross.
Calvary’s mournful mountain climb; there, adoring at His feet,
Mark that miracle of time, God’s own sacrifice complete.
“It is finished!” hear Him cry; learn of Jesus Christ to die.
Early hasten to the tomb where they laid His breathless clay;
All is solitude and gloom. Who has taken Him away?
Christ is risen! He meets our eyes; Savior, teach us so to rise.
O the wormwood and the gall. It’s one of those lines that you can’t comprehend if you haven’t a) been around the church very long, b) don’t know context clues, or c) haven’t done a bit of bible study. Lamentations 3:12-19 does pretty well with setting the stage for what wormwood and gall convey:
12 he bent his bow and set me as a target for his arrow. 13 He drove into my kidneys the arrows of his quiver; 14 I have become the laughingstock of all peoples, the object of their taunts all day long. 15 He has filled me with bitterness; he has sated me with wormwood. 16 He has made my teeth grind on gravel, and made me cower in ashes; 17 my soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is; 18 so I say, “My endurance has perished; so has my hope from the LORD.” 19 Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! (ESV)
Afflictions. Sufferings. Bereft. Hopeless. Bitterness. Poison. Laughingstock. Taunted. A target. All of these get at what Jesus became as he took that cross upon his shoulder and then took his place upon it. Maybe that’s why current musicians haven’t touched it. It’s too dark and most praise and worship music wants upbeat hopeful stuff. I have found though, that Casting Crowns is quite comfortable confronting our brokenness and pain. All you need do is watch their video interpretations of their songs “American Dream” and “Slow Fade.” Talk about bitterness.
What songs and texts help you journey through the cycles you keep?
As I clicked “publish” on my last post, it suddenly hit me. A song I love to hate. Unapologetically, I say to you the honors go to “Some Days are Diamonds” by my love, John Denver. Sorry brother, but the song stinks. Big time.
In “You’ve Got Mail,” Meg Ryan’s character, Kathleen, sits down with Greg Kinnear’s, Frank, to confront the fact that neither is in love with the other. Whereas Kathleen is ready to say that the hope of another exists, she’s not quite there yet. On the other hand, Frank has begun a rather public flirtation with a television personality who interviewed him. He declares, “I just can’t help myself.”
My friend asks me to share the song that I hate to love and another that I love to hate. Well, it’s like this. If I don’t like it, it’s probably now crowded out into the Land of the Forgotten Tunes. So much swirls up there in my noggin’ there’s not enough room to store something if I don’t enjoy at least a bit about it. So, I am not sure I’m going to come up with a song I love to hate. But, I can’t help myself when it comes to Gordon Lightfoot.
I remember riding around in our Orange VW Bus which we appropriately called “Bussie.” Dad popped the 8-track of Lightfoot crooning “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” as we rode around town. He sang along pretty well, I must say. The ballad is beautiful even though it is one of deep sadness. I think I always have loved stories and songs steeped in truth. Truth is important to share, even if it is painful.
In the meantime, I can’t help but share another bit of trivia I discovered by way of another friend this week. It is also a true story of which many are entirely unaware. Tomorrow is the 100th anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire. The tragedy became the basis of reform of safety standards and responsibilities of employers for their workers. You see, whereas most people die these days from smoke inhalation when there are fires, the Shirtwaist Factory caused deaths to 146 women either by burning to death or jumping to their deaths in order to escape the flames because managers had locked the doors to stairwells and fire escapes were not properly functioning. Most of the victims were between the ages of 16 and 23.
In these days, when we’re thinking a great deal about labor unions and the rights of workers and, as industries move overseas where the legal protections US workers enjoy do not exist, we must remember, come to the aid of others, and in the process, help ourselves. It’s called “doing it unto the least of these.” It’s called doing it unto Jesus.
One more “can’t help myself” tragic story/song: Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.
Have you noticed how some songs will come around and around again? Maybe not in terms of popularity, but in the way they speak to you? It can be the same with the holy texts. Somehow, a interpretation you had at 14 is still part of you when you’re 23. Yet that early-twenties experience is new and fresh. The layers build with successive readings to deepen the encounter with the text and the God to whom it points. As with scripture, so songs speak to me.
Before I enrolled in an upper level preaching class (Preaching the Parables), I’d already been fascinated with the story of the Persistent Widow and the Unjust Judge. But working through that text in preparation for a sermon, paper, and defense steeped me in a greater appreciation of what God was saying through Jesus’ parabolic teaching. Then, into the parish I went and the text became part of my survival, thriving, and ministry to those who also were trying to resurface from challenges at hand. Just as my Creator has charged me never to give up, so I urge others.
2 He said, “There was once a judge in some city who never gave God a thought and cared nothing for people. 3 A widow in that city kept after him: ‘My rights are being violated. Protect me!’ 4 “He never gave her the time of day. But after this went on and on he said to himself, ‘I care nothing what God thinks, even less what people think. 5 But because this widow won’t quit badgering me, I’d better do something and see that she gets justice – otherwise I’m going to end up beaten black and blue by her pounding.'” (Luke 18: 2-5, The Message)
It’s safe to say that I’ve had more than one person’s share of struggles. I won’t belabor the details here. They could very well be too personal for such a venue. But the Widow’s persistence, for me, became representative of God’s persistence with us. Our Creator who made us in God’s own image and endowed us with life, choice, and great love will never give up on us. Ever. Even to the very end. Why? Because God’s nature is love. So, why should I give up on myself or others?
Yes, sometimes one must walk away from a fight, but the fighter still remains. So, as I consider a song that describes me, I come to Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Boxer.” Although the metaphor breaks plainly down when he arrives at the ladies on 7th Avenue. “The Boxer” was a song that stirred me as a youth and moves me more today. That, my friends, is good music.
If someone else is suffering enough to write it down
When every single word makes sense
Then it’s easier to have those songs around
The kick inside is in the line that finally gets to you
and it feels so good to hurt so bad
And suffer just enough to sing the blues
~Sir Elton John, Sad Songs
Lent is a season of minor chords, sad songs, and breaking hearts. I know of a lot of broken hearts, lately. Some of them have to do with relationships in ruin. Some of them have to do with wrecked senses of self-esteem. Some have to do with crises of identity. Maybe it’s the full moon of the equinox pulling at these wounded places, tearing open the places only recently being knitted back together. Maybe it’s just that deep awareness of new birth coming into and out of old selves. When I open up my vocal chords and allow “There Is a Balm” to come flowing out, I know I’m finding my way home.
There is a balm in Gilead, to make the wounded whole,
there is a balm in Gilead,to heal the sinsick soul.
There is a balm in Gilead,to make the wounded whole,
there is a balm in Gilead,to heal the sinsick soul.
Sometimes I feel discouraged,and think my work’s in vain,
but then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.
Weariness in the Christian journey. Weariness in the search for love. Weariness. The Book of Lamentations gives voice to great woe. Jeremiah is the Prophet of Tears. Each of these and so many other storytellers and sages accompany us through the trials and travail of tears.
Recently, a friend of mine shared a song by Christina Perri, called “Tragedy.” I can’t help but think of “Moulin Rouge’s” penniless poet and Third Day’s “Cry Out to Jesus.”
I wonder… what are your sad songs? What helps you to release your tears?
Everyone has their own strategies for relaxation. My father sits down in a chair with the channel changer in hand. Before too long, his eyes become heavy, his chin drops and his hand goes limp. If he’s lucky the remote doesn’t land too hard. My mother stitches and does handwork of all sorts. Others run for endorphins and then enter into down time afterwards. I listen to classical music.
Several years ago, I found that in order to be the most productive, I need to listen to classical music. Preferably, there are no words to distract me. But if I listen to a piece often enough, I’ll begin to learn the music and hum along with it, words or no words. Here are my top 10 for relaxation and creative production, all rolled into one:
A friend of mine posed a 30-day challenge. Share a song each day that fits a particular criterion. Name a song that… Over the past few weeks, I’ve risen to the call. Today’s request is to name a song that illustrates the year gone by.
Seeing as how a year ago I had out-patient surgery and on the same day learned of a job-change, you can imagine the roller coaster. Some weeks went by before I could begin to pack due to post-surgical restrictions. All told, it took about 6 months to transition the physical aspects of my life. It’s taking longer to manage the rest.
Attempting to shake my brain, I found no songs about roller coasters. So, I thought about a song that lifts up change. Divine reversal. Full of biblical images, “Hallelujah, the Great Storm Is Over,” is one I hope to have sung or played at my funeral. Maybe that’s a morbid thought to some, but I love the hope that permeates the song composed by Bob Franke. That’s the kind of hope I want to leave with people.
The thunder and lightning gave voice to the night;
the little lame child cried aloud in her fright. .
“Hush, little baby, a story I’ll tell,
of a love that has vanquished the powers of hell.
Alleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings and fly!
Alleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings and fly!
“Sweetness in the air, and justice on the wind,
laughter in the house where the mourners had been.
The deaf shall have music, the blind have new eyes,
the standards of death taken down by surprise.
Alleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings and fly!
Alleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings and fly!
“Release for the captives, an end to the wars,
new streams in the desert, new hope for the poor.
The little lame children will dance as they sing,
and play with the bears and the lions in spring.
Alleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings and fly!
Alleluia, the great storm is over, lift up your wings and fly!
“Hush little baby, let go of your fear:
the Lord loves his own, and your mother is here.”
The child fell asleep as the lantern did burn.
The mother sang on ’till her Bridegroom’s return.
Want the biblical background for the song’s imagery. Check it out.
Isaiah 61: 1-3, 8a, 10-11
1 The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; 2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; 3 to provide for those who mourn in Zion— to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, to display his glory.… 8 For I the Lord love justice, …10 I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. 11 For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations.
Luke 4: 16-21
When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
Maybe my funny-bone just doesn’t tickle the way most of current North American culture does. I have never found CBS’s “Two and a Half Men” to be even slightly laughable despite my affection for Duckie… I mean Jon Cryer. Strangely enough, the program has ranked high in the ratings for years. Charlie Sheen’s behavior, however, is ranking worse than “not funny” and has moved over into the “downright disturbing.” Is it some sort of drug-induced psychosis?
Despite my lack of affection for sitcoms these days, I do love shows that make me laugh. Guess it’s a sign of aging, but I long for the golden days of The Cosby Show and Family Ties, or even Ally McBeal or Everybody Loves Raymond.
This week, I came across a lovely little comedy called “Drop Dead Diva.” Have you heard of it? I missed it when it premiered on Lifetime last year. Now, please understand, most of the time, Lifetime nauseates me. While it bills as television for women, most often the programs seem to encourage women to stay in unhealthy relationships of all sorts. But Drop Dead Diva is good. It’s the story of Deb, a beauty-queen wanna-be model who dies, goes to heaven, and in a strange turn of events is able to return to Earth. Mishaps happen, of course, and as Deb inhales her new first breath, it is in the body of a lawyer who is anything but a pageant-circuit kind of gal. Jane’s no-nonsense, brainy approach to life has made her a superb legal eagle. You see the comedic potential. If you don’t get Lifetime, let me recommend Netflix for instant viewing. Lifetime has accomplished something beautiful here. It’s not only funny but it’s poignant as Deb figures out how to be more than beauty. She goes from a life of zero positive or negative contributions to a woman who contributes and experiences a range of blessings and challenges.
Comedian and author, Eric Idle writes:
At least one way of measuring the freedom of any society is the amount of comedy that is permitted, and clearly a healthy society permits more satirical comment than a repressive, so that if comedy is to function in some way as a safety release then it must obviously deal with these taboo areas. This is part of the responsibility we accord our licensed jesters, that nothing be excused the searching light of comedy. If anything can survive the probe of humour it is clearly of value, and conversely all groups who claim immunity from laughter are claiming special privileges which should not be granted.
This cultural core of comedy is the reason that Jon Stewart hosts the number-one rated news program. With his wit he succeeds in influencing society more than any other newscaster at this time. Wisdom flows from humor, in this case.
Which brings me around to humor in the faith-sphere. If Easter weren’t so late this year (it’s the absolute latest possible date – April 24), my parish would have celebrated Holy Humor Sunday on the Sabbath closest to April Fools’. We’re talking good clean jokes. Divine humor (after all God spoke through a donkey, Balaam’s ass, to be precise. Playful clothing and music. Alas, it will have to wait until next year. We’ll be in the middle of the Seven Deadly Sins instead, this year.
In the realm of religion, we often take ourselves all too seriously. After all, we hammer into one another’s head that the only thing of lasting significance is spiritual. The responsibility of sharing the Gospel is, indeed, a joyful and burdensome thing. As a result, musicians through the generations have created beautiful works to tell the gospel story. But seldom with humor. Always aiming at conviction, there is little room for laughter.
So the oratorio, “Not the Messiah: He’s a Very Naughty Boy” is a welcome piece of comedy. You’ll hear overtones of Handel, Mozart, nine lessons and carols, and even Bob Dylan. A musical setting of “the Life of Brian,” the film is a delight: gorgeous symphony, gifted soloists, mass choir, and the goofiness of Monty Python all rolled into one.
teach me wisdom in my secret heart 