We didn't go to church last Sunday. Instead, we went to a brunch given for the artists of Chatham County Arts Guild, which Marrianna is a member. I've read and thought about Bob's sermon from Sunday, and probably will for a while. It's another good one, titled "Blessing", but it could as easily been titled "Good Byes." This past Sunday was the first weekend after classes began at UNC and there were still some parents with their young in town and at church.
Religion, or spirituality, faith, belief - whatever words match the intent of those speaking them - has been brought frontward a lot recently. Somehow, being a believer has become irreconcilably linked to conservative political positions, and to my way of thinking nothing could be further from accurate.
Even reading the sermon it's easy to find emotions acting on me. When he uses a father's experience with his daughter dying, I could feel a deep sadness.
Wanderhope walks to the foot of the hospital bed, and out of his despair finds himself speaking words which would be his last words to Carole: "The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace."
My word! Such a blessing in such a time! The words come from a place deep in his memory, from a place deeper than his doubts and his skepticism. The Spirit of God whispers for him, in the deep caverns of his life, until the words form on his lips and he pronounces blessing: The Lord bless you and keep you.
Are those whispers not also deep within us, us who have heard these words over the years? The priestly benediction that God gave to Moses, and to Aaron, and to the children of Israel is given also to the church. And in the name of the Lord of the church I offer its words this day to you. Take them with you. Say them over and over until they become a part of you, so that in some yet-unknown moment of parting, you may pronounce them, too.
Says Willson, they are sturdy words for any moment of leave-taking, for any moment of great sadness or even great joy. Indeed, these are very versatile words, and there really is no moment, no occasion when they are not appropriate. When you are at your happiest, celebrating with friends, and the moment seems filled with grace, say, "God bless you." The words will confirm the experience. Or in a moment of profound darkness, when the silence is numbing and the loneliness threatens to crush you, these words - "the Lord bless you and keep you," may light a small candle just bright enough to see by, and split the silence just enough for hope to slip in. Indeed, they may just transform pangs of homesickness into an encounter with home.
As the words of that sermon were being said, Marrianna and I were enjoying a gathering of folk with another common thread, art. There were probably sixty people there, and if you needed a reminder, artists are varied, different, stubborn, and for the most part, friendly and acceptive folk. For a few, their dress clearly announced their lack of need for public acceptance. Some were in bib overalls, some shorts and T-shirts, and some in what is known around here as casual, khaki and dress shirt. Marrianna had a very nice outfit, and it seemed that most of the artists that gathered around with her, men and women, were also a bit more "dressy." For the most part, I sat as I usually do, on the periphery, watching and listening to bits of conversations.
Monday morning I received the sermon via email, and read it. Reading a sermon is often as good as listening to one. You can't go back and re-hear certain phrases that you want to remember, and in that way a printed sermon is useful. I've gone back several times and re-read portions. As a military person, saying goodbye was so difficult that I built emotional walls to keep closness away so that partings wouldn't be so difficult. It was years after my retirement that I lowered those walls, and I thank Margee and the spiritual formation group she helped form for that. I use lowered because I'm not sure they will ever be completely torn down.
I'm on the periphery of both acongregation listening to a sermon, and assorted artists discussing their art and several related subjects, not fully engaged with either. Yet, I can if pressed discuss both and not embarrass myself. Writing this evening, I think I am more comfortable in the spiritual realm than art, but I've not lived with Marrianna without absorbing some artistic knowledge and language.
Marrianna and I were coming home yesterday after an appointment and some errands. One thing I did was stop at a local computer repair shop and price additional memory modules. On the way home, Marrianna asked me if removing some of our photos and some of her art from the computer would help to the point that more memory isn't necessary. I explained to her the difference between memory and disk storage, and I think she understood. It's an interesting exercise, finding words to make it more clear.
On another subject, I have mentioned and linked to "Learning with e's" blog several times. His entry today reminded me of another age and understanding gulf. His generation is very much more computer and technology involved than mine, or at least than am I. The photo on his blog today is of all the equipment he is going to carry with him to a conference. I am amazed at the amount of "stuff" he both has and carries with him. His entire blog is about using the web to teach, so I suppose it shouldn't surprise me, but it did.
I heard something today that sort of made me angry. On our recent trip west, I dropped my digital camera, a Konica-Minolta. When we got home, I took it to a local camera shop to have it repaired. They shipped it off to Sony, who recently bought Konica-Minolta. Today the camera was returned to the shop. It can't be repaired because ... wait for it. It can't be repaired because there are no parts. Why aren't there parts? Sony dumped all Konica-Minolta parts in a recycle dump when they bought the company. Sony is in the business of selling cameras, not repairing them. That's the story the guy at the local camera store told me. I'm not sure how true it is, but it wouldn't surprise me. So, now I need to buy another camera. I have an idea what I want, and will probably get it either next week or the following one.
When I sat down to write I titled it "Miscellaneous Thoughts", and it has certainly lived up to it's name. I didn't know where to begin, and like life, if you don'tr know where you are going, it doesn't make much difference how you get there. I may not know where I am, but I am there.
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