Memphis and Shelby County - From "Us" and "Them" to "We"

Some acknowledgments and qualifiers on the front end.

I've served in the city of Memphis for most of my appointed ministry.

I'm a graduate of Memphis City Schools.  W.W. Herenton's name is on my high school diploma.

I first moved to Memphis in 1979.  I was 15.  I lived in Fox Meadows when that was still a very well established predominantly white, middle class community.  I attended and graduated from Wooddale, which was at that time probably 70%-30%, white/black.  African American kids were bused into Wooddale from the Bethel Grove and Orange Mound parts of town.

From what I've seen (strangely enough through Facebook) of folks with whom I attended high school, both white and black, it is clear to me that quality of education we enjoyed at Wooddale was very good.

I lived and worked in Whitehaven from 1983-1987.  The demographic shift was in full effect by that time for those who could afford to uproot and move to Mississippi, Germantown or Collierville, which was still at that time pretty much a sleepy little bedroom community.

I moved back to Memphis in 1992--back into the same community I lived in while in high school, Fox Meadows.  Over the five and a half years of ministry there, the demographic shift was on....reminding me very much of Whitehaven only ten years earlier.  The pressures of serving what was once a "community church" that found the elements of community eroding provided profound challenges to determining what it means to be the church.

It is among the ongoing issues and questions of theological identity for any church in a transitional community. The United Methodist Church in Memphis has had and continues to struggle to find good answers to some of the tough questions such transitions raise.  Visionary leadership and prophetic witness are among the attributes notably lacking in the face of the struggle to find meaning.

In 2001, I returned to Memphis/Shelby County.  Lived in Germantown, worked in Midtown.  Lots of reasons for that which we determined as a family was the best choice at that time in our lives.  And yes, where our kids went to school was among those reasons.

I served in Midtown for 8 years in a place at the crossroads of wealth and abject poverty.  Because Midtown had already transitioned many years before,  I was there as new life emerged.  What some called renaissance (myself among them), others called gentrification.

In 2009, my appointed service shifted back into the county, now serving in Cordova, a community not unlike how I remember Fox Meadows in the late 70's.  It is a community impacted deeply by the downturn in the housing market and the economic crisis of the past couple of years.

In each phase of my life in Memphis/Shelby County, there is always the undercurrent of certain "givens" that frame policy.  While race is chief among them, it does not stand alone.  The place where race, crime, economics and education meet--that's the thing that's always in the room with any conversation of citizens of Memphis/Shelby County about Memphis/Shelby County.  This amalgum of issues long predates my life here, and while the ways we talk about it may be shrouded in more carefully chosen language, it's still alive and well.

Now, how does any of this qualify me to say anything about the status of our city and county, and the school systems that work within each?

I don't know, maybe nothing.  Except that I've seen the biases of people who live in certain parts of the city/county toward those who don't.  There's plenty folks who live in the county who are pretty certain that if you live in the city, especially deep into the city it's pretty certain that you'll be robbed, raped or shot.

And I know plenty folks who live in Midtown who believe that if you live outside the 240 loop...heck, if you live east of Highland that you're a part of the evil system that perpetuates the divide of the city/county and that no one who lives "out there" (me included) can say anything about what could/should be done.  "Sell out" is often a label placed on us folk.

The divide perpetuated by our biases and fears does not make for the best witness of "the city of good abode." It is bias based upon every demographic and pejorative stereotype of "the other" that each can conjure about the other. Some of those biases are not without credence. Abuses of power, leadership that has been at times negligent at the least, and perhaps corrupt at most do not inspire confidence.  Boss Crump may be long gone as a man, but the remnants of how he manipulated and controlled everything lingers still.  That said, our biases provide cover to excuse our behaviors.  And they absolutely prevent us from looking at new ways of being community.

But here's what I know deep within--
We can argue about how and why, but the time to come together as one in the city/county is here.

This will not be easy to do.  I expect it to be among the most difficult things Memphis/Shelby County will have done in its history.  I suspect things will likely get worse before they get better, But it is the right thing.  As a man of faith, I believe it to be the most faithful thing.

It will need to happen for economic reasons, if for no other.
It will need to happen to position our region for growth.
Maybe it will even unify us in ways we've never considered.

Nashville, Louisville, Indianapolis...they seemed to figure it out.

Why can't we?

As I write this the Memphis City School Board has upheld its previous decision to surrender its charter and thus fall under the mantle of the Shelby County School System.

The fears, the biases and prejudices are flying fast and furious at each other about each other.

The "citizen of Memphis" side of me wants to see Memphis City School be better than it is.  I want to see excellence from teachers and students and efficiency in how the system is governed.  I want to see the Memphis City Schools perform like...well, the Shelby County Schools.  I want to be able to watch a meeting of the MCS Board and not wonder "what the hell are they doing?" If I'm a parent of a child in MCS, and I couldn't stay up all night in the optional school line, why wouldn't I want the school my kid goes to performing like the schools I see "out there?"

The MCS teachers and administrators that I know are masters at their craft.  They are very talented people doing amazing work.  And yet even the best of talent when operating in a system that seems to be dysfunctional have to feel they are swimming upstream against the current..always.

As a "citizen of Shelby County" and a parent of three in SCS, I look at the implications of a consolidated district and it can't help but give me pause.  What does it mean?  What does it do to my kids?  Does it do anything?  Does it negatively impact the education my kids are getting now?  In short, what does it do to me and mine?  It's a question that rises naturally in us when there is a potential change.  But the better part of me want MCS to be better, too.  And I want to be able to observe the leadership of the SCS Board operate address the issues without feeling like there's something else they're really trying to do without actually saying it.  Our community is better, safer, more productive when all of our schools excel.

There comes a time in our lives when we have to begin to think about the implication of choices and decisions and work with "the other" to find a new reality to frame our future.  I have to wonder...are we the answer we've been waiting for to long held unresolved issues?  Is it for such a time as this that our community moves from too many policies based on old notions toward something new?

As it was when I served in Midtown, and now in Cordova, our churches celebrates its relationship with a school.  It is one of support, care and sponsorship.  The role of the church in community seeks the best for our children.  It is one of the ways in which our village raises up our future leaders.

What lessons will they learn from us through this?

No, I have no expectations that this is something with easy answers.  But I have trust in two of our leaders.  I trust A.C. Wharton and Mark Luttrell.  I think they are both very good men and represent the best of what our city/county has produced.

Whatever happens with the schools...whatever happens in matters of government--we have to stop this us/them dynamic.  It does not bring about the best in any of us.

It's time to move to "we."

Sticks and Stones Break Bones---Words Do, Too

vi·o·lence noun \ˈvī-lən(t)s, ˈvī-ə-\

Definition of VIOLENCE

1  a : exertion of physical force so as to injure or abuse (as in warfare effecting illegal entry into a house)b : an instance of violent treatment or procedure

2  : injury by or as if by distortion, infringement, or profanation: outrage

3 a : intense, turbulent, or furious and often destructive action or force

b : vehement feeling or expression : fervor; also : an instance of such action or feeling

c : a clashing or jarring quality : discordance (from m-w.com)

I'm not sure there's anything more narcissistic than to ascribe blame for catastrophic events. We all do it. Something awful happens and we want to know why. What makes it narcissistic is that the blame we place gladly is always elsewhere...usually on the diametrically opposite pole of where we are in life or the world view we hold thereby propping ourselves up as the paragons of virtue, truth and supreme importance while "they" are the embodiment of evil, corruption and that which must be purged lest the Republic fall. Whether or not the blame is real or imagined, when we do such a thing we enjoy the presumably safe cover of taking easy shots at those whose positions we abhor.

And when that happens we perpetuate the violence--just of another sort.

It's happened too much since last weekend.  It's easy.  It's petty.  It's tacky.

So self absorbed is the media about how a mentally ill person did what he did from which connections are drawn based on what one hopes is the reason rather than what really is (something which may never be known), that shattered bodies are not even  yet cold before we skew what is ultimately important about a tragic situation.

He's a Commie.  He's a Nazi.  He's a liberal.  He's a conservative.  He's influenced by cross hairs on a map.  He's influenced by the moon.  Who's knows?  It's Sarah Palin's fault.  It's not Sarah Palin's fault.  And today the term "blood libel" was used--which does not help.  I wonder if she knew what that meant historically when she said it.  My hope is she didn't. Because if she did, the cycle of violence continues.  

To have this tit for tat argument now bespeaks the larger issue.  There's murder in Tuscon, but look at me!!!!

Everybody, SHUT UP!

We do violence of another kind if, for now, we do anything but offer prayers of comfort and support for the grieving, and prayers for healing and wholeness for the injured.  If, for right now, our focus is more on a blame placing "why" than it is celebrating the profound courage of those who rose up and ended this murderous spree before more bullets could fly then we are revealing our true intent, and it is not noble.

But there's a conversation that must be had...someday, and soon.  While not drawing a causal relationship between what occurred in Tuscon and the ways in which differing sides speak to their constituents about others ---anyone who honestly thinks our lack of civility in matters of public discourse has nothing to do with heightened tensions isn't listening.  Speak "violence" enough, be it overt or coded and muted, how then can we be surprised when violence comes (as it does everyday all over the place) and causal relationships are not sought? 

We're better than this.  At least I think we are.  Well, I hope we are.

We all grew up with that old saying "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."  Sticks and stones do break bones, and despite our protestations to the contrary, words can break bones, too - just not always directly.

Words can inspire, yes.

Words can provoke, of course.

But words can incite, too.

Is speaking violence even when we don't mean it the best way to communicate a point?
Is constant hyperbole the best persuasive tool to shape hearts and lives, or does it, if left unchecked merely stoke the lesser angels of our nature?

Too often, chronic hyperbolic speech masks the weakness of the point one is trying to make.  And yet once said, we must live with the consequences of what hyperbole brings. Some of us can take it, measure it and contextualize it on the spot, thus, governing our reaction to it. And for some of us hyperbole so inflames us that we're guided by fear of what we'll lose if something dramatic isn't done right here and right now.  We can't process it.  It is what it is and our reaction is framed out of blind zeal rather than considered thought.

If I were to ever wonder how I sound with the words I speak and the manner in which I speak them, I've only to listen to my children instinctively regurgitate what I've conditioned them to say because they heard it first from my mouth.  Some of those words make me proud. Many make me cringe.

One of the great challenges of the journey for those of us on the Way is to match holy words with holy actions.  We are to match the language of love with love's actions in a broken world.  We are to match belief in forgiveness and justice with mercy from a loving God to be lived out in right relationships with those around us, especially those alien to us.  Whoever "other" is for you - that's your measuring stick.  Don't believe me?  Read the Gospels.

What words are you saying now?  Do they speak "violence?"

Dare we speak the language of a revolution based on love?

And let's be clear what we mean by "love."  It is the love of God that transforms the world. Sometimes that transformation means that our words confront the principalities and powers whose actions and/or inactions have propagated a violence against those whose lives have been determined to have less value than others.  But words that confront, from this standpoint, are prophetic words that bespeak the heart of God whose most earnest desire is for us "to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly."  Those words are revolutionary because they call us to be the living expression of God's love through Jesus in what we say and do.

I'm going to try something for the next month and I'm inviting you to be a part of it, too.  I want you to be very conscious about what you say and how you say it toward those whose positions you have the most problem. And right now in our country to say nothing of our City and County, there's polarizing issues aplenty.  Seek to avoid the language of violence.  Seek to avoid dehumanizing "the other."  Let your love for the One you call Lord guide your words and actions more than those seeking to incite.

If words matched with actions can break bones, maybe they can heal, too.

I believe they can.

If a Little Sabbath Time Is Good.....

First, a confession.

I've never taken a sabbatical.

Never taken renewal leave. Been under appointment since 1987.

I share that not as a source of pride, really more one of shame.

Because the truest part of that confession is that I'm jealous of those who do.

I covet (yes, covet, bordering on resent) the circumstances that allow my colleagues to do what I can't see myself doing.

How do I pay for it?

How can I leave my family with the burden of tending to the business of our living while I'm away -

How? It's so unfair to Kristy to leave her with that.

I've never had a question about the "why?" of the equation. My head knows the value of sabbath time. My soul has known its value in slight doses...dribbles here and there.

I took some sabbath time this week. Upon the invitation of my old pal, Ed, I traveled down to his place in south west Florida. My agenda was simple....nothing. Just be.

Ed was host, captain, cook, counselor.

Having had him in my home over the years since I was 8, no Jeffords had ever been to his place.

When he was at Covenant with me this September, our time together outside of the concerts and worship experiences was of the typical sort with dinner and conversation. He talked about his Florida home, on Manasota Key. He talked about "retreats" he's hosted when people he's worked with over the years are invited to come and share in some time way.

"You look like you could use one, Johnny." "You come down, I'll give you some date options. If you say 'no' to more than two or three options, I won't ask anymore."

Couldn't do the first offer...it was right before Israel. But the second one, I was on it.

So I spent Monday-Thursday of this week with The Grateful Ed. We sailed, listened to good music on the boat, talked about a lot of stuff. I went with him to a gig. Manned his table and sold his wares. I shared the current mix of The Travelling Cokesburys CD (soon to be released), which he liked but wanted to mix himself and sing on it with us. We jumped in at Eddie Boy Bay (sub 60 degree water - didn't stay long).

I don't want to overstate how wonderful the experience was...but it was really, really good.

I've left to go to plenty of things before...but usually always continuing education in nature. Conferences, workshops and the like. Most all of them have at least some part that's really good, and most all of them have a goodly part that's a big waste of time.

But that's not what this was.

No agenda, but to tack across Lemon Bay as the wind guided (and the weather was glorious).

No agenda, but to walk down the beach.

No agenda but to go to favorite eateries and sample the local cuisine.

No agenda but to watch the sunset and be glad.

I don't know if I could stand that everyday (I wonder). Holy Scriptures don't suggest everyday be like that. But the Hebrew Bible does talk about taking one day in seven to cease from doing...to just be still and know God.

That "commandment" is not for God's benefit, it's for ours.

And I was benefited mightily by an old of friend mine being a friend in ways I never expected, or deserved...

Isn't that what they call "Grace?"

One More for 2010

There's been a significant drop off in the volume of blog posts in the last two years. 2010 was sparse, to say the least. While I'd make the case for quality rather than quantity, I think the level of written output is an indicator of other things.

As I look at my dashboard, I see a surprising number of drafts never published. Impressive posts begun here, the incomplete display of profundity there. (ha!)

My ability to bring coherence to issues for which a real time response was called for was sorely lacking in 2010. It's not that I haven't had thoughts about many things. I didn't have energy to see it through. A fragmented life will always yield distraction.

But I'm not going to beat myself up about it though (there's plenty other things about which I can). True enough, a relentless pursuit for relevance can veer easily into the absurd. And I'm often on the line of the absurd anyway.

So I end the year with one more post. One of self awareness that there were decent thoughts shared, some interesting life stories imparted, and they are mine. This blog is composed of my thoughts reflecting my journey. Some of these stories may have intersected yours at certain points.

One of the things that this year has taught me is that our journeys, sometimes once thought long since divergent, seem to have a way of intersecting again in ways you least expect.

What is it that Christians say? Never goodbye, just see you later.

I think that's right. Not always in the ultimacy of time, but sometimes in the dailyness of living. I cling to the hope of what is and what will be---and in the meantime, I'll be trying find a bit more balance in the new year.



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Thinking About What Was and What Is

Virtually every media outlet will have a "year in review" this coming week. It's the usual air time filler produced to run between Christmas and New Years.

We'll be invited to look back at pop culture, politics, lead stories, and trends. Because we have a short attention span, the recollection of things happening no more than 12 months ago will seem a distant memory. That is not among our most endearing traits.

We'll see video packages of key figures in our culture who died in the previous year. Their deaths remind us of what we've lost and that we're not what we were.

I've found myself rather introspective of late, looking back across my year that was to help give me a course to steer in the year at my doorstep.

So here's some thoughts about my year in review-

Weight Much?
Once again I find myself at the breaking point of a lifelong struggle with weight and the anger, shame and self loathing that are my constant companions when I consider that I've allowed this to happen---again. At my age I can no longer afford the delusion that I'll get it right one of these days. If I desire longevity and vitality I've got to "find some balance here."
The "Dr. Phil" voice would argue that I must find something in this struggle that I'm looking for, otherwise I'd change it because we can't change what we won't acknowledge. So what is it? I've been reflecting on the year that was. It hasn't been an easy one, and at times quite difficult. Just because I'm called to do a certain work, and sometimes do it pretty well, does not mean there is no toll taken. Who is pastor to the pastor? Right now that's an open question. There is a direct correlation between how I'm dealing (or not dealing) with life healthily, and the insulation I add to my physical frame. Rather than thinking of storing up for a winter's hibernation, the added weight I pack on serves me more like a Kevlar vest presumably to protect my heart from the perceived threats "out there." And I think it's always been that way for me, from childhood on.
While I've not always given my permission to ponder such things, I think I'm right on this one. It's a self-protection mechanism, that ironically, is going to damn near kill me if I don't find a way through. How is it with my soul? Look at my body and you'll see the answer my mouth dares not speak.

For a Song -
I don't know when I've sung more than I have in this past year. It's been a long time, probably not since Asbury days as Glad River was coming together and we were recording and touring, and I served as Associate with a singer as Senior (MM). Fun days. Music is as much soul medicine for me as anything. I've been reminded of that great quote from Augustine, when we sing we "pray twice," Guess I've been doing a lot of praying. I recently saw a video of me singing and was taken by how different my countenance was. I could see it. My affect is almost transcendent. Held in juxtaposition with the usual "me," I have to say I like the "me" I am when I sing a lot more than the "me" I am when I don't.
In my current appointment, I'm blessed with very talented musicians. At times I've tapped into my inner rock star when we do tunes of the 60's and 70's to augment our worship experiences. Even bought myself my own solo mic - EV- N/D767a. Yep, all about the tunes.
And then there's The Travelling Cokesburys (click and check us out) which has been an utter blast (CD coming soon). To be able to play and sing with John Kilzer has been a treat. But it is our project, hymns from the Cokesbury Hymnal, that has allowed me to reconnect with a touchstone of my faith that had meant so much. It's not the hymns themselves that matter as much as my recollection of the congregations I grew up singing them in.

In Search of Community -
My clergy group, of which I've been a part on a weekly basis since 1990, is struggling to survive. While its number and configuration has changed many times over the years, with just three of us left the inevitable is upon us. I don't know what that means for me. For a long time we tried to model what healthy clergy relationships could look like, those in which we lovingly hold each other accountable. Sometimes we were actually good at it. But itineracy and attrition has moved this group to a perilous state, and I'm saddened by that. I'm also worried because the loneliness of those in clergy, something for which I had a weekly antidote, is now evermore in front of me in the year ahead.

Friends -
Reconnecting with friends of my past, those who knew me, loved me and trusted me long before I claimed a vocational life has been one of the greatest blessings of this past year, no question about it. I hate to admit that Facebook is partially responsible for that being true, but it is. My friends from Mayfield, Jackson and early Memphis days have each touched me again, and I'm ever thankful. And that's been a complete and welcomed surprise.
I've also been reminded this past year that with some friendships, sometimes you just have to move on. That's something you'd think I would have learned by now. Moving on is what I've done all my life. Close a door, open a door. It's an axiom of we in clergy life that I thought I could ignore or manage because I'm just that smart. Not so much. Learning to do that at peace? That's the trick, and a lesson I'm trying to learn, and so far not so well.

Being a Dad -
For every moment I feel like I did a great job as a dad, there's scores more when I blew it. Too busy, too tired, too distracted...too not present. And yet, my boys affirm in me how much I matter to them. They make me laugh. I make them laugh. And when they are in trouble they know they can come to me and they do. The craziness of my home life since Kristy took over the stores several years ago is that I'm now by necessity a part of the dailyness of running the house, and tending the family. It gets to be nuts but it's been a blessing. And in the new year I'll have my first graduate. Not sure what that's going to mean for us all just yet, but it ought to be interesting!

So there's a look back at me. For what is right and good I'm thankful. For what of it that lingers, that I'll carry with me into 2011 as baggage I hope that just saying some of it out loud is the first step in unpacking.

Happy New Year!


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Eisegesis

Let me say from the outset - I've missed David Waters. The Commercial Appeal and the city are the better for having him come home to live and work among us. To come back to Memphis from The Washington Post is a pretty big deal  His prophetic voice rings true for so many issues our community faces.

Let me also say that I'm proud to have travelled to Israel with brothers and sisters in the clergy with whom I've enjoyed a profound covenantal relationship for the past several years. I've written about this group previously in our responses to Lester Street and The Med, and Tear Down the Walls.

While there's much I will reflect upon in due course about being in Israel, the spiritual impact of being in a "holy land," for this post I find the need to clarify things for those left with certain impressions about this group, what we did, and why we did it.

Here's David's article:

Now I confess to sadness for feeling the need to do this at all. First, it would have suited me fine if there had never been any media about this. Granted, media exposure is common with many of the folks in this group, although I'm clear that I'm at the bottom of that food chain, and that's just fine by me.  While I don't think any of us were really looking for it, it was too good to pass up as a story. I get that.

Being in fellowship together out of the spotlight, where we could be ourselves with one another, while understanding the pressures of what it means to be spiritual leaders was what gave life to this group. It is what draws us to it still.

When you turn that which had one purpose into the hands of the media, regardless of intentions, you open yourself up to perceptions that belie what is true.

On it's face, a public airing opens us to opinions. Perceptions from those who don't know me matter very little to me.  My sadness, bordering on feeling betrayed is that some of these perceptions are from those I thought knew me, trusted me, and counted me as friend. And I'm not sure what to do with that. It confronts my continual internal conversation about not being loved unconditionally for who I am, and seen as having value only because of what I do.

Let's see...I've had "friends" concerned that I was going to be indoctrinated to a specific point of view, one they didn't hold.  The belief I'd be indoctrinated by anything or anyone lets me know I'm not really known or trusted by those I thought did.  That stings.

I've been labelled as being like those clergy to whom MLK Jr wrote in his "Letter from a Birmingham Jail."  (them's fighting words, by the way).  I was confronted by that masterwork during my Vandy days.  It was thrust before me in critically constructive ways that made my focus be such that I will do everything I can in ministry not to be associated with those whose silence equals concurrence to what is going on around them.

So what's the real issue here for me?  I thought about this a lot.  And I'm surprised by how much this has gotten under my skin.  I've sought the counsel of a trusted voice who does love and trust me for who I am and what was said resonated.

"Your integrity was called into question by those who know you, or at least you thought they did."

And there it is.  "For everything there is a season."  It is now the season to peaceably move on from what I thought was to what is.  Ever been there?  It happens.

How many of you have the motivations of your trips questioned?
I mean really?
It's a trip - a group of friends who happen to hold ministry in common took a trip together with our partners.

We went to Israel, a beautiful, complex place.  I knew that before I got there, and found it confirmed upon arriving.  The issues of security, justice and peace for all who call that place home have no easy answers.  We went to see, to experience, to talk, to touch, to process, to pray, to consider the land of where Jesus lived, to ponder the implications of a land claimed by multiple faith communities and consider what that means in the places we live and do ministry.

We did not go to engage in Middle East peace talks.

Now David would have you believe that our common cause for friendship means we don't have different opinions on issues.  How anyone who knows any one of us could believe that's true just isn't paying attention.  The variable is that we gather as friends who hold work in common, not as ministers first, friends second.  Some people either can't get that, or don't want to.

Most people were glad I went, glad we went, proud even that this fellowship of leaders, imperfect as we are, seeks to model the community in our common life that we proclaim in our work lives.

Where we went was not nearly as significant as that we went somewhere together.  That we went to a place that holds significance to our faiths added a dimension that cannot be underestimated.

Shortly after returning we received word that David was going to write an article about the trip.  David issued a request that each of us answer:  "How did what you experienced in Israel inform your life and work in Memphis."

Eisegesis is defined as reading into something what you want it to say, rather than what it really means.  It's a no-no for preachers when dealing with biblical texts.  It's a no-no period.  Ever encounter someone abusing scripture to say what they need to so that their point is validated, rather than let the scripture shape them?  There you go.

While David was free to edit my words, the complexity of what I intended was co-opted into something altogether different.  He eisegeted my quote.  Here it is in total:

As we traveled through Israel together, we often heard the words "it's complicated," when describing ever present geopolitical and religious tensions. It's always there. There is a growing awareness that a two state solution may well be the last best enduring legacy for the land claimed as sacred by those who claim the God of Abraham, Mohammed, and Jesus as the center of their faith. But is the "two state" solution that we have long known on the parcel of land we call home our most faithful expression of the love of God and neighbor? As it is there it is here...a question always present. My sense is that to live fully into the justice and mercy of God compels Israel and Memphis to different conclusions on that question. It is complicated. But since when should what is complicated excuse doing what is faithful?

Inasmuch as we who traveled together know what it meant and why we went, there is eisegesis aplenty by too many others.  It's not about intentions, I don't believe.  I think we read into way too many things what we want them to say rather than what they actually do.  Driven by our own predispositions, biases and prejudices, and in the absence of trust and conversation, we make anything say what we want it to.

I've encountered this.  It does not diminish the import of this experience for me.  I am bothered that there's always someone who can't celebrate the blessings of others and will interpret what they want how they want.

But truth be told, I'm sad.  The number of people with whom I entrust myself is comparatively few.  And apparently, it's even fewer than I thought.



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Pilgrimage: Day 1

My "big ol' jet airliner" landed in Tel Aviv around 4:30 p.m. local time. Our group - those who flew with us joined up with those who came early.

A short walk brought us to the water's edge where Micah lead us in the service ended the Sabbath. It was a thing full of beauty and hope.

First day take away was that. Hope in the face of conflict. Hope found in coming home. Zeal for life to be celebrated always---let everything


that breathes praise the Lord!

We walked the streets of Tel Aviv to the Goshen Restaurant. A great banquet. Our guide, Jonathan, who lives outside of Bethlehem shares his life and world view.

A good start.


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