Just Six Words...

When Bishop Woodie W. White came to the Indiana Area to serve the (then) two Annual Conferences, North Indiana, and South Indiana, he brought to the over eleven hundred UM churches in the Hoosier State a call-and-response mantra that is still used by many in worship services every Sunday. 

The Bishop would call out: "God is good!"
The people would respond: "All the time."
The Bishop would call out: "All the time."
The people would respond: "God is good!"

Of all the good leadership and graceful presence the Bishop offered in his years in Indiana, he may just be best remembered for those six words.

I am sure others have changed the wording a bit in the years since the Bishop came to be with us,  I certainly have.  I changed it up a bit recently for use in a Call to Worship.

The Leader calls out: "God is with us!"
The people respond: "All the time."
The Leader calls out: "All the time."
The people respond: "God is with us!"

You can see the many possibilities, can't you?  To list just a few of the obvious ones:

"God is peace! All the time."

"God is love! All the time."

"God redeems! All the time."

"God loves all, with no one left out! All the time."

"God is here! All the time."

"God is knowable! All the time."

"God is approachable! All the time."

"God is creative! All the time."

"God forgives! All the time."

"God is truth! All the time."

So, there ya go.  Just a six word mantra offered by a Bishop, who offered hundreds of thousands of other words during his time in Indiana.  But those six words stuck.  Stuck because they struck a truth that is deep down inside many, if not most, of us, I think.  Six words that are, in reality, a confession of faith.  Much simpler than any of the long creeds or other confessions of faith in print...but it could just be more profound than all of them.  Just six words.

Truth...

The truth is that no matter how hard we may try to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, we probably...most of the time...cannot.  We cannot because hardly ever are we in possession of the full truth, the whole truth.

Even the truth I tell about the story that is my life is nothing more than my version of the truth of my life.  There are other versions of the story that add more facts.  More detail.  More insight.  More truth.

Mr. or Mrs. or Miss Anonymous gets credit for the following quote, and its a good one: "Beware of the half truth. You may have gotten hold of the wrong half."

The whole truth may be elusive, but we probably know it when we hear it, or see it, or read it.  Maybe the best truth-sensor is, in fact, how we feel when we run into it...or when it runs into us.

Don't be afraid of the truth.  Don't try to avoid it.  And for sure, do not pretend it isn't there, when you know for a fact that it is.  Dealing with truth in those ways could just bite in you in the back-side.

If the truth is in the room with you, its probably a good thing to acknowledge it, to give it sway, to make future plans accordingly.

One more thing, its very true that the truth will set you free...but more often than not, it will...it really will...piss you off first.

True, that.

Monologue (not dialogue)

I can hardly remember any detail from Johnny Carson's five-nights-a-week monolgue, but I can remember that monologue-time as a great way to end my day, just before going to sleep.

I clearly remember some of the very funny characters Johnny created on a regular basis: Floyd R. Turbo (the R stood for Arthur), Aunt Blabby, Art Fern, Carnac the Magnificent...and there were probably others.

But back to that monologue Johnny engaged in every nite.  Just him.  Just his words.  Just the jokes he wanted to tell.  Just the comments he wanted to make. 

Jay Lenno and Dave Letterman and Jimmy Kimmel (and most likely others I am not familiar with) have continued the monologue as the opening of their late-night programs.

Just one person, or just one group representing one point of view, running off at the mouth is a monologue.  I do a monologue on the Sunday mornings when I preach a sermon.  Just me.  Just my understanding of the Good Book and the faith.  Just my challenge or suggestion about what it all means for us here and now.  15 to 20 minutes of just me.  (And since I craft the outline of the worship service and develop the congregational prayers and responses, it more than 20 minutes of just me.)

{Blogger picture-upload is not working today.  But if it were I would upload a picture of this really serious looking guy staring out of a black background and saying, "I find it suspicious, that everyone's personal God has the same beliefs as they do."  Its a great picture...but you will have to close your eyes and imagine seeing it, instead of actually seeing it.}

In a monologue the presenter has the opportunity to create, out of thin air, a personal world in which their views are the views of everyone.  Where opposing views are without merit.  Where its their way or the highway.

There is a whole lotta monolgue going on these days around some very, very critical and big problems.

But these big problems do not take place in anyone's personal world, they take place in the world we all share.  And I suspect that dialogue would be so much more productive than monologue.

A Delicate Balancing Act

Out with 2012.  In with 2013.  Not much will change when the clock moves to straight-up midnight and the first day of the New Year begins.  Well, except that I will have to try to remember to write 2013 instead of 2012.  Most likely, I will mess up a few checks before I get that settled.

The evils of war, and homelessness, and violence, and bigotry, and slavery, and greed, and poverty, and other stuff will continue.
The joys of peace, and family, and brother/sister-hood, and freedom, and generosity, and other stuff will continue.

Maybe the best we can hope for is, as Carlos Castaneda said, "to balance the terror of being alive with the wonder of being alive."

So, in 2013 the balancing act will continue.  It could be made easier, I suppose, if we were to do some simple things like relax a bit more;
be a little nicer and kinder;
be a tad more gracious and thankful;
get out of our comfort zone a bit more often;
and be in conversation with the Creator more than in 2012.

Maybe we could just show up for the New Year and do our best.  Our very best.

Maybe we could take our cue from Gandolf (in the movie, The Hobbit - An Unexpected Journey), who said, "Its the little things, the caring things, the loving things that count in life."

Well, 2013 is here...so just show up, give your very best, and struggle with the balancing act once more.

At the very least just don't, you know, go over to the dark side.