Appreciating Tired Legs

I preached my heart out this morning and I can feel it in my legs. Sounds weird, huh? Well, for me when I get into something, breaking a sweat with my mind or with my body, the effects of either go to my calves specifically – always has. When I was a kid running cows up and down the alleys at the stockyard I would go home and feel it in my legs. Restless Legs Syndrome wasn’t caused by lack of work, but by too much. Work wasn’t a stranger around our house when I was a youngster.

Many hours were spent tilling the garden, hoeing the flower beds, cutting the grass, feeding the cows, fixing fences, pumping gas at the Texaco station, or helping out at my grandfather’s country store. During Christmas break I operated a fireworks stand for two weeks, and in the summers I either worked in a peach packing shed or penned cows and hogs at my father’s stockyard which made for great sprinting ability when football practice started. My father’s philosophy was clear if he caught me sitting on the fence or lazing around in other ways: “Off and on!” he would yell. What he meant can be translated a number of ways, but the best way I can phrase it would be, “Quit resting on your laurels and get on your feet!” Hard work was a given.

When I was a kid I wasn’t that keen on work. Today, however, I would give practically anything to hear my Dad’s voice yell, “Off and On!” again. The value of a good work ethic is immeasurable. As much as I like time off and rest, there’s nothing like a good night’s sleep after a day of manual labor. Rest is all the more sweet thanks to the satisfaction of a good day’s work.

Certainly, I enjoyed some tasks more than others. One of my hardest lessons about work came from one of my uncles. He said that he would give me 50 cents for every bushel of butterbeans I shelled. I thought that sounded like a good deal until my fingers felt like they were going to fall off after shelling about one-fourth of what I was supposed to do. He wanted me to learn that money doesn’t come easily. He was right. There is no free ride in this world.

Work is a gift from God, to be sure, but we can’t enjoy this gift unless we put it to use. The best use that can turn any labor into a blessing is to “work for the Lord.” If I can work for the intrinsic reward of pleasing the Lord, then the extrinsic 50 cents doesn’t much matter. If whatever the menial task is done for Jesus’ sake then we can be content whatever our lot in life. That is, if we do it to the best of our ability. From this perspective, work can indeed be a gift from God. Famous artist, Emile Zola, put it this way: “The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.”

Perhaps you have heard or read the story of how work makes the difference between heaven and hell. There was a man who died and found himself in a beautiful place, surrounded by every conceivable comfort. A white-jacketed man came to him and said, “You may have anything you choose - any food - any pleasure - any kind of entertainment.” The man was delighted, and for days he sampled all the delicacies and experiences of which he had dreamed on Earth. But one day he grew bored with all of it, and calling the attendant to him, he said, “I’m tired of all this. I need something to do. What kind of work can you give me?” The attendant sadly shook his head and replied, “I’m sorry, sir. That’s the one thing we can’t do for you. There is no work here for you.” To which the man answered, “That’s a fine thing. I might as well be in hell.” The attendant said softly, “Where do you think you are?”

Non-Anxious Presence: A D.S.' Soup de Jour

This has been a day of what I call "Full-Moonitis." I don't think there's a full moon, but the way today has gone from calm to the tyranny of the urgent has been a real yo-yo. Just like the moon affects the tides, I sometimes think that it tugs on our amygdala's and we lose focus on what's real or imagined. Today was like that. As they say, "It ain't paranoia, if they're really after you."

I spent the entire day doing what District Superintendents do most days: conflict management, trying to remain calm in the freak-out problems that everyone presents to you as if theirs was the only problem that exists. Everybody has anxiety. To not have anxiety is humanly impossible, but what makes the difference between the good edgy anxiety that propels you to a creative solution and the flooding anxiety that makes you freeze up in a fetal position is whether you react to stuff when the ship hits the sand or whether you're responsive and thoughtful.

Thus, I spend a lot of my time saying, "That's interesting," or "Really?" instead of spouting off information or emotion. Calm demeanor, don't shake your head, don't smile too big or at all, unless you want folks to put words into your mouth and make out like you've agreed with their position. You have to differentiate, step aside, be a whole self and not perforated enough that their anxiety sucks you in. But, you have to remain connected, too. Here's where a handshake, a closing prayer, a verbal hug or whatever lets the other know you're still you, but you are in this thing with them, not for them. I only about lost it about 5 times today. Not bad for a fairly stressful day.

But, hey, I ain't Jesus. I can't solve all the problems, don't know all the answers. Heck, Even Jesus scribbled in the dirt and made the bystanders think for themselves. I never did like the funnel-in-the-head churches that tried to tell you all the right answers before you even asked the question. There's something wrong with that, promotes co-dependency if you ask me. I like the United Methodist way. We question everything except God's grace, and disagree on about everything but that. We call it conference. Yet, wouldn't it be wonderful if we conferenced with responsiveness instead of reactivity. Now that would be Holy Conferencing. I think I've actually seen it done. Well, anyway, I have about tongue-and-cheeked away my sarcastic cynicism. I feel more calm. You?

Carlee's Eulogy

The word "Eulogy" means "Good Word." A number of you have asked if I might share the eulogy I wrote for my brother, Carlee. As a person who often finds great comfort in the part of the Apostles' Creed that declares that "I believe in the Communion of Saints," then this eulogy is an ode to that belief. We are an Easter people and our resurrection hope is not in vain.

As we share the stories of people they remain alive in our hearts and actions. Holy Communion is called an "anamnesis," or to "remember." This morning I remember my brother and others, and I hope this spurs you to write down your thoughts and reflections about those who have gone before you. The remembrance of the past gives meaning and content for the present and future.

Take time today to think about the people you most admire and write their biography. It will be a "good word," a eulogy. Everyone needs to be remembered.

Carlee_Funeral[1]

Caught Between Time Zones, Cultures, & Grief

I am spent, tired and probably need to be in the Azores to have some semblance of biological normalcy. It took 17 hours in flight to get to East Africa, and 17 to get back in 5 days. I'm no "spring chicken" and I feel the weariness. I am also emotionally drained from preaching my brother Carlee's funeral yesterday. He was so special, and his devotion to family and our little historic hometown of Edgefield, SC was so complete. To capture him and our memories was both comforting and caused a degree of sadness. I miss him and those halcyon days of common joy. Nevertheless, he would want me to press on. That's what I'm going to do. I may head to the top of Mt. Mitchell, my quiet place and rest, read, and bask in its mystery for that is what I need in the summer of 2010 that has been so fraught withits own mysterious changes. I would be remiss if I did not at least offer to you my thoughts on the work of the Worldwide UMC Study Committee and our trip to Mozambique.

This is an email with some slight subsequent editing that I sent to Bishop Jones within hours of my return on Wednesday and in response to his offer of condolences about my brother and illiciting my thoughts on the interviews we conducted in Maputo, Mozambique.

"Scott/Bishop Jones, Thank you for your support and prayers for my family. Indeed, all of this with my brother and daughter have been unexpected and have been difficult. I want to express to you and the staff (especially Cynthia Dopke) my sincere thanks for rearranging my flights to get me home for his service tomorrow (Thursday). I'll be preaching the service and have been meeting with family all afternoon. I haven't crashed yet and there's more work to be done on his eulogy, so please understand the following thoughts as preliminary at best.

We had a very enlightening time of things in Maputo. I was able to peruse their 2008 version of their BOD (Book of Discipline)which was based on the 1988 version of the GC BOD. They simply have taken things out they feel are not relevant or offensive, and they have added as other Central Conferences have, "Special Advices," in the middle of their BOD. These seem to carry the weight of law, but they are different from the Social Principles, which in my opinion are not church law.


I went there thinking that perhaps we could have one common book of doctrine, discipline, and order; but I feel this is unlikely given their ability and willingness to wholesale pick and choose their preferences to adapt, leave out, and add new parts. For instance they still use the deacon to elder two-step ordination process. I am sensing that our study will need to go beyond the 2012 GC if we are to really rethink our church and do the adequate study, and we must not allow money or sexuality drive our ecclesiology unless we want to polarize everyone.There must also be some sense of proportionality in our relationships with churches outside the US to avoid colonialism.

A huge difference discussed at great length was the non-itineration of bishops and that they are elected at the CC level to serve in their own home episcopal area for a specific length of time. This is a dangerous thing in terms of politics in the episcopal areas when people serve among their peers and have preconceived notions that exist from Bishop to people and in reverse, and I remember as Aesop said it, "Familarity breeds contempt."

In final analysis I find it difficult to think we can have a common discipline unless it is VERY thin, and I don't think that is worth our efforts or good for the UMC. Another approach might be to see where the whole church can agree and allow very little, if any, adaptability. I think we must not rush into hurried decisions that will be misunderstood and fail. I would rather study longer and get it right, or simply accept the constitutional vote results on the worldwide nature of the UMC and the "no" votes on this issue that have occurred ever since the COSMOS report of the 60's all the way to this point as indicators that 1. We would rather live with the dysfunction as is, or 2. We really need to study this with seasoned ecclesiologists who have no agendas except to fulfill a commonly held mission of the Church and actually be a worldwide UMC. Anyway, that's where I am at this point and need to process it all much more. I'm truly sorry not to be there with you all. The group is in my prayers and I thank everyone for their's,

tim"

Cultural contextualization of the Gospel is not only appropriate, it is neccesary. St. Paul did a good job of this with the Athenians. However, in our UMC Connectional polity, one must discern with clarity what causes the UMC to be distinctive. What are the non-negotiables? I know Wesley said: "Let there be unity in essentials, liberty in non-essentials, and in all things, charity." The daunting task in our indivualistic world is to figure which is which.

We cannot devolve into congregationalism and have pastors and churches act like individual silos, nor have annual conferences, or jusrisdictions/central conferences doing their own thing. That is NOT who we are. What we are is a corporate group of Jesus' followers who believe the saving work of Christ makes as much of a difference in this life as it does in the life to come. To quote John Wesley once again, and also use my brother Carlee's favorite expression, "Best of all, God is with us." The path to the future for me, the UMC, the world - is how is God with us? If we get that answered, then we will see a light into the future.

Brothers

I'm in Africa on the east coast, less than a mile from the Indian Ocean, in Maputo, Mozambique. It's winter here in the Southern Hempishere, and the moon at night does a smiley face upside down on the quarter, not the South Carolina crescent. The meetings have been going well. I have been the discussion leader for our delegates from the Annual Conferences of North Mozambique, South Mozambique, and the Provisional Annual Conference of South Africa. Half the gorup speaks Portugese and the other half speaks English.

At least I'm able to use my French minor from college and able to read their Book of Discipline which is dated 2008, but actually is a reprint from 1976! They still have the two step ordination process from Deacon to Elder even though we changed all that in 1996. They also have their "Speciale Councilohs" which like some other AC's are not church law but are included in the middle of their BOD's as if they were. It is very anachronistic, BUT the churches are vital and thriving.

So it's been interesting to find out why they're doing so well as we have asked questions about each person's story as a UMC, what are their connections with other AC's, how do they do appointments, elect Bishops, and why in the world do they want to stay in the UMC, especially if they are voting on things at the GC (always in the US) they don't pay for and don't try to put into practice. That's the rub as our Worldwide UMC Study Committee does its work. We are asking the question, "What is essential in a common Book of Discipline that CANNOT be adapted across the whole connection?" If we can't agree on that then we really don't have a connection. We have a colonialistic money laundering enterprise. I know that's harsh, and may not even be that accurate, but it feels that way. So pray for us as we discern what it means to be sisters and brothers in the UMC "connection" - the operative word.

Then there's the connection we all know called family. I wrote two blogs ago about my two brothers and how my oldest brother, Carlee, was in the hospital. He was improving so much and sounded so much better that I didn't even give you an update. Yesterday was his 70th birthday! Yesterday he died. My middle brother, Ralph, called him up and sang "Happy Brithday," yesterday morning and a couple of hours later he just died. I have been on the phone through Skype to Julie, his precious daughter, and to my brother, Ralph.

But, I'm telling you, Carlee got the best birthday present ever. He has always loved being the star of the show and he has done it again! He got his very own birthday party yesterday with Mother, Grandmother, Daddy, Papa, and a host of others - Communion of Saints having a blast! I don't begrudge his death. I just wish that I had been there, but I'm grateful that plane flights can be changed and I'm heading back to do his service this Thursday. It took 17 flying hours to get down here and I start in the morning for the long trip back. I''ve met new sisters and brothers in Africa, and I'm going home to tell another "Goodbye, and I love you, Carlee." Maybe that's the best connection whether as a denomination or a family - love.

UMC in SC and Africa - Is There One Way to be an UMC?

We're at Cabinet Retreat looking out over the marsh of Knowle's Island at Palm Key in Jasper County, SC. Good food, good fellowship - moving experiences with a team-building kayaking trip up the Broad River, thankfully with the tide, and last night's extremely moving "Blood Done Signed My Name," a must-see if we want to be honest about latent pain and racism.

We still have a lot of work to do, but we have done a lot. We have discussed what we see as the must-do ministries of the Annual Conferene, revised Charge Conference forms, discussed some critical appointment matters, set calendars, the 2010 appointment process, discussed the most effective deployment of personnel, and financial matters that are more anxiety-laden this year than last. We're set to continue through lunch today, and I hope we get there because I'm the Cabinet Secretary and I'm typing and talking at the same time. Not always a good mix.

Here's my big deal about getting the work done by noon. Friday I meet with the Conference IT guy (Jim Crews), who's absolutely great by the way, and go over the changes to Charge Conference forms, etc. so he can post them. Then I fly to Atlanta to South Africa to Maputo, Mozambique, to Addis Abbaba, Ethiopia, to Abidijan, Cote D'Ivoire, to Dakar, Senegal, to the US. Whew! I hope I spelled everything right, and that I make it there and back with my luggage and on-time.

The Worldwide UMC Study Committee is going all over our Central Conferences and Annual Conferences in Africa in small groups to listen and discern. What we are trying to hear is how we can be a connectional church and at the same time encourage local churches and annual conferences in the exercise of their ability to be nimble and flexible in ministry through a common Book of Discipline.

As most know the Constitutional Amendments that would have allowed the US to be a Regional Conference with the same ability to adapt the BOD was defeated soundly. The will of United Methodists is that we work within our current parameters. Par. 543.7, however, still allows CC's to adapt the BOD so long as the Constitution and General Rules are not abrogated and that the spirit of connectionalism is maintained. What we're hearing is that UM's outside the US are often using great leeway in their adaptation. Some are using the same BOD, just translated, others are using BOD's from 20+ years ago. We've got to figure out what works and not cause schism in the church.

Pray for our efforts and that there is real listening and truth-telling. I may not be blogging for a few weeks, depending on my ability to get to a computer and internet, but we'll be connected through prayer, polity, common distinctives as a denomination defined by our praxis, "United Methodist." I'm looking forward to listening to how we do it in all places and which parts of the BOD are global and which ones are specific and need to be. No small task! I am convinced that our denomination has the best polity in place to reach a world that needs a common voice of Jesus' love and grace.

Connectionalism Begins at Home

"My Three Sons" with Fred McMurray was a staple around our house growing up. With there being three boys in the family made it even more appropriate, even if we were 8years apart. Before I was 2 my oldest brother, Carlee, was off in college. We've all been close over the years, each reflecting our parents in different traits. Ralph is named after my Dad. Carlee was named after a great-uncle for whom my Dad worked. Me -Oh, well, since I came along very late in my parents' lives, they let my two older brothers choose my name. I guess they thought it might give them some ownership, and give me some measure of protection.

They named me "William Timothy McClendon." The "William" part was my Mother's Dad's name, William. The "Timothy" part was the name of the bear in the Dick & Jane books. So there you go. So much for the Greek meaning of "Timothy," which means, "Honoring God." Well, my two brothers did okay, and have been very special to me and are on my mind tonight. I just got a voicemail from my oldest brother's former wife. She is very close to our family and we count her as a sister. Carlee has been in a Nursing Facility for several years with diabetes, heart surgery, neuropathy taking their toll. My niece, Julie, his daughter, called to say that Carlee's blood sugar jumped up into the 500's and that it appears he has suffered some sort of neurological event, possibly a stroke.

We're getting to be a fragile bunch. Ralph has his diabetes to worry about, too; and he has also had heart surgery, plus neuropathy, and is currently wearing a boot too try and save his foot. Diabetes is so insidious. Mine has been under control thanks to diet, exercise, and Metformin. Our Mother and Dad both were diabetic, and Daddy lost both of his legs when he was in his early 80's. Health is such a fragile thing. Both brothers and their families have been so good to call and ask about Narcie's condition. Carlee called me just 3 days ago.

We were talking about his 70th birthday coming up August 15, and how I would be in Africa and wondered when I would get to see him. Well the answer is made up now. Tomorrow night we start Cabinet Retreat until Thursday and on Friday I fly to Mozambique, South Africa, Ivory Coast, Ethiopia, and Senegal over the next 2 weeks, plus. I'm heading over with the Worldwide UMC Study Committee to check how much we connect with African UM's in terms of how those areas have adapted the Book of Discipline. Maybe what we'll end up with is a thinner common BOD and very few adaptations. That's my hope as I support our connectional polity to the nth degree. So what about seeing Carlee? I'm headed there in the morning and see what's up and go from there. If nothing, through everything in life and ministry - family comes first. Faith that doesn't have priority at home is weak, if you ask me.

Pray for Carlee and Ralph; me, too, and please keep remembering Narcie. Family is a connection, a reflection of God's Trinitarian self-revelation, the same reason for the UMC to be connectional, and for me to head off with the cabinet and then to Africa, or stay by Carlee's bedside. Connecting the dots of our lives is difficult, but without any dots, life is pretty lonesome and not very fulfilling. Connectionalism begins at home, or not at all.

Keeping Christianity in the Church

Well, I enjoyed reading Brian McLaren’s A New Kind of Christianity. It’s been especially interesting as I read about author Anne Rice saying that she was giving up on the church, but not Christ. What gives with established religion and how it’s turning people off? Maybe we can get at some of what’s going on by asking the question, “Why did Christianity flourish in the ancient world? What caused it to grow? Maybe a comparison of McLaren and Sociologist Rodney Stark In the Rise of Christianity will offer some insight to our current culture’s desire to be “spiritual” but not “churchy.” Stark said, “The simple phrase, ‘For God so loved the world,’ would have puzzled an educated pagan,” and “The notion that the gods care how we treat one another would have been dismissed as patently absurd.” To the Greco-Roman world, mercy was a character flaw; the ideal was justice. Stark continued, “Since mercy involves providing unearned help or relief, it was contrary to justice.” Then Stark added, “This was the moral climate in which Christianity taught that mercy is one of the primary virtues -- that a merciful God requires humans to be merciful. Moreover, the corollary that because God loves humanity, Christians may not please God unless they love one another was something entirely new. Perhaps even more revolutionary was the principle that Christian love and charity must extend beyond the boundaries of family and tribe, indeed that it must even extend beyond the Christian community.” According to Rodney Stark, this is what made Christianity flourish. Maybe that’s the answer that we and Brian McLaren are looking for.

I bet most of us have witnessed this kind of loving Christianity. I know that I have. Since Cindy’s Dad has been on my mind, I’ll use him as an example. You use whoever comes to your mind. Anyway, nine years ago her father Guy Godwin died suddenly at age 66 of a heart attack. It wasn’t unexpected. Mr. Godwin, as most called him because of his years as a school principal, was a man whose family history was saturated with heart trouble. His father died at age 43 with a heart attack. His mother died with the same ailment at age 52. His next oldest brother Jack died at age 39 with a heart attack, and oldest brother Howard at age 66, also with a heart attack. The amazing thing about Mr. Godwin to me is not the horrific family history of heart disease. It is the way used that heart to love.

He had his first heart surgery and five bypasses at age 52. Five years later they were able to do four more bypasses. Nine years later he died, not as some invalid pent up without fanfare in a health-induced prison. Mr. Godwin loved people. He stayed busy, enjoyed travel, and worked his 400 acres of cotton on “Godwinized” machinery that only he could keep working with some homemade engineering. He was active in his church, served as Staff-Parish Chair in the Greeleyville UMC, had been Church Council Chair. He also taught Sunday School, including the Sunday before he died. He mentored countless young men and women through his life as an educator and through the farm. He was part father, friend, confidante, private investigator, and corrections officer. He didn’t love in a frumpy syrupy way. He didn’t even have to say the words. He simply loved.

A quiet man who despised fanfare, he lived the Christian life and its ideals as well as anyone I have ever known, except perhaps my mother. Certainly, he could be hard-headed, and was addicted to farming even when it was a money pit, but, all in all, Mr. Godwin lived life about as well as I could imagine. He married the woman he loved more than anything or anyone else in the world. He was a man of utmost integrity and unblemished character. He raised two of the smartest intelligent independent caring overachieving women I have ever known, and our daughter Narcie exhibits his handiwork and values, too. He also put up with me and another son-in-law, albeit the other one is a Baptist preacher/Missions Director for the C.B.F (Cooperative Baptist Fellowship). Indeed, he suffered fools with patience, a lot more than I have. He taught my daughter and sons the value of family, hard work, the stupidity of arrogance, and the honor in doing a job well without sympathy or accolades. He passed on to us all a grand appreciation for all people, especially those least likely to deserve it. It will forever be one of my greatest honors to have been under his tutelage.

It is people like Mr. Godwin that perpetuate the reason why the church has continued to grow. He loved beyond the boundaries of family and tribe, and did it well. There is a story that aptly illustrates the kind of man that Mr. Godwin was: An ancient rabbi once asked his pupils how they could tell when the night had ended and the day was on its way back. “Could it be,” asked one student, “when you can see an animal in the distance and tell whether it is a sheep or a dog?” “No,” answered the Rabbi. “Could it be,” asked another, “when you look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it is a fig tree or a peach tree?” “No,” said the Rabbi. “Well, then what is it?” his pupils demanded. “It is when you look on the face of any person and can see ... your brother or sister. Because if you cannot do this, then no matter what time it is, it is still night.” Mr. Godwin saw a potential child of God everywhere he looked. Maybe that is the way forward for the church.

John Wesley Dropped His Assumptions, Can't We?

Assumptions are dangerous. Just when I have thought I knew what to expect out of something or someone, surprise, assuming has made an idiot out of me. When there's the quiet guy in class who you assume is just biding his time, then, wham, he writes the most insightful paper imaginable; egg on my face. Oh, it's not the first time that assuming has gotten me into trouble. Gosh, assuming is so darn Calvinistic, predetermining a predictable outcome. If I'm a true Wesleyan, and I certainly try to be, then I should have a flexibility, and openness to what God might do - no pigeonholing allowed.

Predictability doesn't suit God and shouldn't suit us if we're believers in change and redemption. Hey, the USC Gamecocks did win the National Championship in baseball! So, there goes the old chicken-curse assumption. Who knows, the football team may win 9 games this year. In 116 years of football they have only won 8 or more 3 times in the school's entire history. So if I follow the assumption route then there's no way it will happen, but what if I follow the route of faith?

Isn't faith about having an open mind? With faith it doesn't matter if the doctor is Hindu or Muslim. If the medicine is good, it had to come from the God who provides every good and perfect gift. Can I have an open mind about someone even if they are huge, anorexic, uncomely, smart-*****, slow, manic, slothful, wrinkle-shirted, starched, black, white, mixed, whatever? I sure hope I can keep an open mind. If I can then maybe, just maybe, I can see past the assumptions to the possibilities.

Don't you like the United Methodist "ReThink Church" T-shirts. They're cool, and we really do need to rethink church if we're going to be relevant to today's society. The United Methodist Call to Action group just posted at http://www.umc.org/calltoaction their research findings that we have a crisis of relevancy. That's not how we got started. When John Wesley began the Methodist Movement it was because the Anglican Church had retreated behind parish boundaries and made unfair assumptions about the real needs of real people, especially the marginalized. Wesley dropped his assumptions about preaching out in the fields, assumptions about the poor, assumptions about lay preaching, assumptions about ordination and apostolic succession, and the list could go on and on. By dropping his assumptions the Spirit moved.

Go to

http://www.umc.org/site/c.lwL4KnN1LtH/b.6125881/k.83A1/Comments_on_the_Operational_Assessment_of_The_Connectional_Church.htm and make a comment on the findings of the Call to Action Committee. Of course, you've got to read it first. Anyway, let's quit assuming that somebody else will speak for our perspective and do it ourselves. There's a world of hurt all around us. I think that if we quit making assumptions and open ourselves to truly rethink church then the USC Gamecocks just might make it to the SEC title game and the UMC will start making disciples for Jesus Christ. John Wesley dropped his assumptions, can't we?

Subconscious Reality - Oxymoron or Good Theology?

Important dates stick in your mind whether you want them to or not. I have had days when I was out of sorts only to finally realize that it was the day that Uncle Homer died. You know, stuff that's literally buried deep in the subconscious, but bubbles up for good or ill. Now, I know that it's hard and maybe more than a little morbid to carry around a calendar with all the important dates marked, but whether we do it or not, our minds know. Maybe the calendar will help the emotions at least be recognized quicker, and maybe even dissipate without too much spillage. In Family Systems Theory one knows that cross-generational transmission of certain things is more than inevitable, it happens. So, it's good to talk to the elders who remain, get their story, ask all the questions, make sure the secrets see the light of day.

For instance, tomorrow would have been my Daddy's 94th birthday. I've been thinking about him all week. I have pictured and participated in memories, little vignettes, with him for days: driving in his lap on the way out to his homeplace in Red Hill; feeding the cows; fishing in the john boat on the pond with crickets; him daring to camp at Lick Fork Lake with me; not killing me when I drove his car down the lawn and hit the fence post; and so much more.

I have also thought about his last 2 weeks dying at Providence Hospital; his waking from his coma and asking me if he was going to die and I had to tell him "yes." I was always honest with him. He could read me and see right through me anyway, so I always told him the truth. He was a good father. He taught me all that he could, and I find myself more and more like him. Even more weird in the approach of this date is that maybe a month ago I put his ring back on my finger, no reason, but I guess it was the subliminal way of remembering or of him saying "Hello!" This ring has gone from youngest son to youngest son for at least 4 generations.

This cross-generational transmission stuff is real. I went yesterday to get a light haircut and beard trim. I don't have much hair, and the beard is only there until I get back from Africa at the end of August. Nevertheless, I got buzzed. My beard, though trimmed, has more hair than my head. I had no idea until the barber turned me around to face the mirror. Too late to ask for your hair back, but my mind once again went to Daddy taking me up to the Bartley's Barber Shop on the Edgefield town square, having to put my feet up on the extender on the barber's chair. I could hear Daddy saying to Mr. Bartley, "Give him a buzz cut." Well, Daddy, I hope you're happy, got one yesterday.

Another for instance: I thought Cindy and I got married December 20th because we were too enthralled with each other to wait until summer - which was true, but then lately I got to thinking about all the other family wedding anniversaries. My mother's parents, Will and Milbria Jackson, lived with us. They got married on December 25. My Mother and Daddy got married on December 23. I checked others in the family tree and there's a bunch of December weddings. Uncanny. I cannot remember thinking about that being something we did in our clan, but it happened. The unseen tug.

But here's what's really on my mind. I'm still at Emory teaching - three more classes and grading papers, and I'm done, but last night I went out to see a movie: "Charlie St. Cloud." Corny name but it sure fits the movie's theme. I don't want to spoil it for you, but you've probably seen enough of the movie's trailers to give most of it away. Charlie keeps seeing his dead brother 5 years after the accident, plays catch with him every evening for an hour. The whole time I was sitting there I had my own flashbacks to long-ago days with Mother and Daddy.

I remembered (re-membered) the vignettes, put them back together, and thought of one of the most important parts of the Apostles' Creed for me: "I believe in the Communion of Saints." I believe that those in the Church Triumphant co-mingle with the Church Militant, those in heaven with those duking in out on earth, and they're our cheerleaders, prayer warriors, trail-blazers. They're in another mysterious dimension but if you'll look just long enough at the periphery of your vision, there they are - not ghosts or phantasms - more like sacred memories, memories of God being made incarnate to help you out.

They are God's gift and a vital witness of His faithfulness through all generations. Knowing this gives me peace for the past and hope for the future. Happy Birthday, Daddy! Thanks for the memories and still being there for me.