A Step Along The Way

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent
enterprise that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of
saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an
opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master
builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.

Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw

*This prayer was composed by Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw, drafted for a homily by Card. John Dearden in Nov. 1979 for a celebration of departed priests. As a reflection on the anniversary of the martyrdom of Bishop Romero, Bishop Untener included in a reflection book a passage titled “The mystery of the Romero Prayer.” The mystery is that the words of the prayer are attributed to Oscar Romero, but they were never spoken by him.

Artist, Shaun Giles

 

A New Story

how
does
one
undo
chaos?

undo
unkind
words
non affirmations?

unchosen
reactive
living
betrays
possibilities

and

confirms
tomorrow
will
be the
same
as
yesterday

and
the
day
before

poverty
of
spirit
chokes
hope
before
first
breath

grace
intervenes
with
outstretched
hand

that
promises
a
new
story.

 

jackieshields

04.28.17

 

It’s an honor to share this poem by Jacob Graham. I met Jacob years ago at Sixty-First Avenue UMC. He was one of our students in the after school program and became memorable from the first moment we met! I think all who tutored or worked with Jacob would agree! He meets the world head on! He has been a faithful member of this congregation since childhood, has persevered through many difficult seasons, none of his own doing, and demonstrates a resilience he attributes to God’s love. We can learn from this young man who will graduate from high school May 13! Many of us have been learning from him since he was six years old!

He will preach tomorrow night (April 29) at 6 PM…..Sixty-First Avenue UMC, 6108 New York Avenue, Nashville. Join us!

He is clearly articulate, as evidenced by the following words:

Lost Generation

by Jacob Graham

We get called the lost generation,
Is it because we’re lost or we’re just simply unique
If we’re truly lost, I don’t see…
I don’t see u trying to help us
U let us travel down the wrong road without pointing us in that right direction
Or maybe we’re called “the lost generation” because we mask ourselves behind computer screens and phones
140 character that’s just a text to us
And we don’t care who we hurt as long as we can’t see their crying faces
Or maybe we’re called the lost generation because we sleep our days away
But have u ever considered thinking maybe our dreams r better than our reality
Many people forced to walk in our family footsteps
Which means stuck on the streets selling dope instead of in school trying to get our education
We’re the lost generation but ya’ll the ones pointing us out
Labeling us and pushing us away from society instead of gathering us to help
We’re the lost generation because we turn to violence but y’all never taught us any better
Stop putting guns and drugs in our hands
Instead put us in ur arms
Cuz you see not every teen kills and does drugs
But we all seek for that love and affection
We get called “the lost generation”
It it because we’re lost or just simply unique
If we’re unique then let us be
Just cuz we ain’t like the rest doesn’t mean we’re lost
Let us be us
Yes we’re nerds and athletes, gothics, popular, singers and more
And to the lost generation we gotta change so they don’t think this way
We ain’t lost we’re just us
So let’s not care what these hypercritical people have to say
They helped make us who we are
Why should I try to be good if I’m just a statistic
We’re just numbers y’all count
Do y’all even really care?

Y’all talk bad about us if we ever speak our mind
But is it because y’all never had the voices to do it yourselves
You call us the lost generation and try to crush our dreams
But that’s just cuz y’all never had the motivation to reach for the skies
You see I’ll make sure my generation survives and we’re gonna grab the stars

Y’all call us the lost generation
U see there’s a storm coming over the horizon
It’s time to rebel and the revolution needs attention
Television broadcasting and radio airin
We’re gonna change the way u think of us
Sincerely, “The Lost Generation”

I don’t recall the date Pastor Paul Slentz invited us to gather and offer our presence downtown to bring attention to the proposed federal budget. It was a stormy day….but many gathered. It represented just one of the tools used to voice our concern for the poor. Their voices are seldom heard through the din that economic power brings.

Yes, if enacted, the present proposed federal budget will become “our” budget…like it or not! I am glad to see responses across the print and online press questioning who the real winners will be. In depth study of an issue has always been wise, but even more so now. Tweets of 140 characters and sound bites of less than a minute cannot properly inform. Wading through the onslaught takes real discernment and intention! Interfacing with legislators with letters and phone calls advocates for those who are not invited to the table.

For many, as with many of the issues now being raised, our lives may change little. But for many more, lives may markedly change. Children may not have food. Seniors may not receive meals, but perhaps more importantly, won’t enjoy the social interchange of a person who cares, knocking on their doors. And on and on. The list lengthens daily, it seems.

So, voices need to continue to be raised….and they are! Not in anger or in ways that don’t invite working together….not in ways that just change what division looks like…but in ways that join us hand in hand to live out those Micah verses:

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.

And what does the Lord require of you?

To act justly and to love mercy

and to walk humbly with your God”

Micah 6:8

We can all change the poverty of hope.

 

 

I have assigned the above phrase as an administrative identifier on this blog.

The words paint a vivid reminder for me. January 12, 2010, the horrific and devastating earthquake in Haiti. A place my parents had served as missionaries in their retirement years. A place they celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on their long journey to 72 years together. People they had loved, served and lived in community with over long periods of time. They came to know their stories, not filled with hopes or dreams….but a simple wish for daily survival, food for their children, shelter from the rains or burning sun. Places of worship and baptisms and weddings. Communion side by side, whether at church or a shared table. So, hearing their stories from our parents over that period of time gave our family a very real picture of these faithful people. We loved them, too.

I remember the day after the earthquake, or perhaps two….seeing a photograph (it was not the one above) of a group of Haitians, coming up over a mountain of rubble, hands stretched all the way to the sky, singing hymns! I will never forget it! The impact was almost physical! Their faces tilted up, joy pouring onto the page. The accompanying text shared their thankful hearts, their praise for God! No supplication but praise!

My initial reaction was being witness to the very core of what it means to love the risen Christ…..stripped down to the clear relationship that gave them joy and peace among chaos and an even more uncertain future. They were not only faithful, they trusted this Christ. They loved him with their very beings. A powerful image.

I remember calling my mother to ask her about the photo….and she assured me all I felt was true to who they were. She reminisced at how joyful these people really were, how much they shared and how strong their faith, in the face of unrelenting struggles we cannot possibly know. They had great pride in their worth, not worth determined by any secular standard, but because of their worth to God.

So, I have often thought how good it would be if we could rise above the rubble we call injustice and celebrate God’s words in a world that values each person as he does.

I am trying mightily to rise above the ashes.

jackieshields

 

 

loss

loss has new
unwilling faces
redefinitions every
day
of who has
value
and who can be
dispensed
to the
end of the line
where there is no line.

no escort from a school
not even a picture for history
rather the moment
left undistilled to the blur of
change that proclaims
power
for a few
and a future
veiled by gold curtains,
that hide no future.

beautiful, hopeful faces
claw at windows
closed,
at doors without knobs…
praying for a chance
an equal chance
to be part of
the one and only
promised
great America!
the statue weeps.

streets of gold
beds for the rich
but no
steps
to a future
for all,
hard work
and honesty
a lost commodity
to small thinking
and tunnel vision.

already great
intellectual capital
obscured by
a herd mentality
of goals
without
the longstanding
American picture
of all…
not few.

compassion
a weakness now
elitism
the
norm,
exclusivity
the handshake,
wrapped in rhetoric
for the
poor
no one knows.

God knows.

they cannot be separated from his
love.

 

jackieshields

02.28.17

From Clarrisa Estes…

One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these – to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity.

Choices

Excited
voices
grow
louder
with each day
each hour
rooms
hold
words
that
diminish
and
destroy.

Fists raise
to salutes
of inhumanity
and hate
and fear.
Personal
responsibility
mired
in herd
mentality.

Those deemed
acceptable
levy
economic
power
against
long
ingrained
values,
history
that has
persevered
through wars
and
division before.

But civility
reigned then
compassion
and
purpose
marched
together,
honor
prevailed.
We stood.

Instant news
requires
instant answers
discernment
lost to cycles
that seemingly dictate
new behaviors.

Hate
no longer new
distrust
multiplies
and
untruths
become truths.
Fact check
replaces
integrity
and
character.

All allowed.

Blame falls
easily
pick your station
pick the person.
No personal
accountability
for new walls
and
bridges falling.

But wait…
we have choices.

News loses
when we withdraw
support
for rhetoric
that divides.

We have choices.

Hate can’t
thrive
without
affirmation.

We have choices.

Our
humanity
loses
only
by personal
intent
or acquiescence.

We have choices.

Fear
loses
with
inclusion
and
respect
honor
and
justice.

We have choices.

The
room
is empty
now.

Courage
sits
all
alone.

Waiting.

jackieshields
10.10.16

Time

Time blurs memories,
glimpses tease
the tired,
weary
mind.

Maybe it makes
leaving
easier.

Space allowed
the God
the Savior
who promises
fullness
in its time,
wellness that is
whole.

No lament,
peace comes
with trust…
the trust of
dancing all the way
through
fingertips
to space free
and breathless.

A love pure
and simple
wrapped in praise
never ending.

It is time to go home.
to honor JJ
jshields
11.25.15