No. 52, Dec. 2001

 

GROW LOVELY GROWING OLD

 

         I am writing this a few weeks before turning 83. That is old enough to be writing about growing old. But one does not have to be an octogenarian to write about growing old. We are growing old(er) at any age, and it is an alarming fact that even a young person has only a few decades to live. The psalmist wisely prayed, “Teach us to number our days that we might . apply our hearts unto wisdom” (Ps. 90: 12).

 

         It is a prayer for realism, to face the fact that “our days pass like a sigh,” and that even by reason of strength we have little more than fourscore years. It isn’t simply that the young die too, but that we all die young, The brevity of life calls for wisdom.

 

         I love aphorisms because they are chock-full of common sense. “A stitch in time saves nine” is wisdom-laden, as is “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush” and “Pretty is as pretty does.” They are capsules of wisdom for the living of these days.

 

         From a British journal I picked up this aphorism for ageing: “Grow lovely growing old.” It is rule enough for growing old, at any age. That we will grow old is a given, but will we grow lovely growing old? It lays out a challenge. It was part of a poem by an unknown author.

 

                  Let me grow lovely, growing old;

                  So many fine things do,

                  Laces and ivory and gold

                  And silks need not be new;

                  And there is healing in old trees

                  Old streets a glamour hold;

                  Why may not I, as well as these,

                  Grow lovely, growing old.

 

         We all know something about what it is to be lovely. We recognize it when we see it. It may be the innocent and unassuming joy of a child, or the courage and perseverance of one battling a fatal disease. It might be the sweet reasonableness of one who suffers fools gladly, or the quiet trust and faithfulness of a marriage in its sunset years. We surely see it in the forbearance of an overworked teacher, or in the peaceful resignation of one beset by tragedy, The apostle Paul says loveliness “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

 

         Loveliness in those in their sunset years is particularly attractive. Ouida’s mother often said, “When one grows old she’ll be the way she’s always been, only more so.” In her case, as with many others, that meant that in her old age she was lovelier than ever.

 

         But what are some of the marks of loveliness in old age? The question is appropriate since old age has its particular problems. Old age and loveliness are not necessarily concomitant. And yet loveliness is especially poignant in older people. What could possibly be lovelier than a lovely aged woman?

 

         Years have a way of gathering grudges and storing up resentments. It is beautiful when an old person has buried all the hatchets and disposed of all the grudges. It is lovely to forgive and forget – and that includes all the family grudges. It is as sad as it is unlovely to see a cranky old person engulfed in bitterness. Their conversation is made up of bitter complaints about the way they’ve been treated.

 

         Occasionally when doing a funeral I ride with the undertaker to the cemetery. The conversation is sometimes about family quarrels that erupt at the death of a parent, creating a problem for the funeral director. They bear their grudges even to the cemetery. They bury their loved ones but not their grudges!

 

         Its not the way to grow lovely growing old. The virtues that become any age but are especially lovely in old age are three in particular, the ones I covet for myself.

 

         Self-forgetfulness. If I can think of myself less and others more, think of the problems of others more and my own less, if I remember that “Love is not selfish, it does not seek its own,” then I can see myself growing lovely growing old.

 

         Gratitude. If in my sunset years I can be thankful for the plenitude of blessings through all the years, root out negativism, complaining, nagging, whimpering, and forget the hurts of the past, then I can see myself as growing lovely growing old.

 

         Sometimes when I visit in nursing homes I crank up the old song and urge others to join in, Count your blessings, name them one by one, count your many blessings and see what God hath done. I agree with Augustine that ingratitude is the chiefest of sins.

 

         Sense of humor. If I can learn not to take myself so seriously and be able to laugh at myself and laugh with others, and “gather ye rosebuds while you may,” then I can see myself growing lovely growing old.

 

                  “And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us,

                  And establish the work of our hands;

                  Yes, establish the work of our hands.” (Ps. 90: 17) – Leroy

 

 

 

HARVARD RESPONDS TO SEPTEMBER 11

 

         The way we respond to a tragedy says something about who we are. Crises have a way of cutting through our superficiality and forcing us to face reality. We cannot easily play games. such as self-deceit, when our neat little world starts falling apart. Shoddy values fail us when disaster strikes.

 

         I have watched the reactions to Sept. 11 with interest. There appears to be more concern for traditional values like faith and prayer. The media, especially TV, may have less anti-Christian bias. There have been human interest stories of faith and hope. The pastor of a church near Ground Zero told how on Sept. 11 he donned his clerical robe, opened the doors of his church, and stood out front on the sidewalk greeting those running from the inferno. Some embraced him, pleading for answers. His church filled for prayers, time and again throughout the day.

 

         Then came weeks of reflection. Virtually every publication, secular as well as religious, has had something to say about the possible meaning of it all, even when there seemed to be no meaning. There was general agreement that the U.S. will never be the same after Sept. 11, but they didn’t say whether we would be better off or worse off. There was also consensus that we would rise to the occasion and meet the challenge.

 

         Reaction from Harvard especially interested me, for my experience as a graduate student at that university led me to suppose that hardly anything at all would elicit any soul-searching in that academic environment, not even something apocalyptic. So, I was surprised to read in the Harvard Divinity Bulletin that the university’s new president, Lawrence H. Summers, visited the Divinity School to meet with students, staff, and faculty shortly after Sept. 11 to talk about the tragedy. The president conceded that the importance of “what you study and what you think about” was made clear by the events of Sept. 11.”

 

         The president said what Harvard presidents do not usually say: To study and think about God is important. That is a far cry from what President Conant was quoted as saying, the agnostic that he was, when I was there, referring to “my superstitious colleagues at the Divinity School.”

 

         Moreover, President Summers challenged the Divinity School “to find the eternal truths in a world that appears to be in complete flux.” And he related those eternal truths to “Harvard’s oldest traditions.” referring to religion as “Harvard’ s original mission.”

 

         Yes, it is engraved in stone at a gate into Harvard Yard that the college was founded “so that New England might have an educated ministry.” It is true of Yale and of Princeton, and many other universities across the country. Their founders were motivated by faith in God. But at all those universities. including Harvard, every course that is taught, both in the liberal arts and sciences, is taught as if there is no God. Religion is irrelevant, a “superstition” as President Conant put it. If Sept. 11 causes our academic communities to look beyond such blatant secularism, then some good will come from it.

 

         But that isn’t all that happened at Harvard. The dean of the Divinity School called for a program titled “Dimensions of the Tragedy: A Forum About September 11.” The faculty and students met this time not to discuss a problem in some ancient text, but a very real “here and now” crisis that threatens our way of life as we know it. An unusual experience for a seminary.

 

         The forum was all the more interesting since two of the professors, one a woman, were Muslims. Especially conscious of their ethnicity at such a critical time, they insisted that Sept. 11 had nothing at all to do with Islam, no more so than the bombing of abortion clinics has anything to do with Christianity. They were terrorists who happened to be Muslims. They expressed concern as to what repercussions this will have on the Islamic community in America. They objected to President Bush referring to our response as “a crusade,” considering its association with religious wars in centuries past. but applauded his visit to a mosque and his effort to understand Islam. They described Islam as far more complex and diverse than Americans realize.

 

         Peter Gomes, an African-American professor, may have been more discerning. and at the same time more spiritual, in his response than any of them. At the heart of our problem, he allowed, is that we do all we can to keep life simple, and we avoid complexities. The 11th forced us to face “a terrible complexity” on our native soil, and we don’t know how to handle it. He told his colleagues that its easy to meet and talk civilly in the luxury of Harvard. What is urgent is that there be an awakening and a call for renewal all across the land, and for that to happen we Americans must realize that we are but a part of a much larger world. and that our actions have serious consequences.

 

         It isn’t clear that the Divinity faculty produced what the Harvard president asked for, an identity of spiritual values for living after Sept. 11. They did say that we must not respond to terrorism with hate, rage, and passionate retribution, and that we must never target innocent civilians as do the terrorists. Moreover, we must find positive, creative ways of building peace.

 

         I appreciate President Summers’ question, which may remain unanswered. What does Sept. 11 say to us in reference to spiritual values?

 

         It may be that God is using Sept. 11 to get our attention. It may even be a wake-up call to reconsider our wanton, luxurious, greedy way of life in a world where multiplied millions suffer both physical and spiritual want. While something like 5,000 Americans died in the tragedy of Sept. II, on that same day 35,000 children around the world died of malnutrition and starvation. And on Sept. 12 another 35,000, and on and on.

 

         Millions more are deprived of decent housing and simple justice.

 

         Might a grievous tragedy be a call for sober self-examination and repentance?

 

         Nothing like that was suggested by the Harvard divines. But for the sake of President Summers’ request I would like to put it on the table for consideration. God may be using Sept. 11 as a summons for a nation spoiled by luxury and self-sufficiency to stop and think.

 

         There are signs that we may be hearing the message. Congress has named Dec. 4 as a National Day of Reconciliation. A joint session of Congress will seek unity, forgiveness, reconciliation, and charity for the nation and the world. On Nov. 27 many of our political leaders met in the rotunda of the Capitol to pray that our nation may realize its potential as a champion of hope, a vindicator of the defenseless, and a guardian of freedom.

 

         To an ancient prophet in a time of national crisis God said, “Come, let us reason together.” That time has come for us. – Leroy

 

 

 

IS THE CHURCH LIKE A THEATER?

 

         We are comfortable enough likening the church to a body or a family, or even an army, but a theater? It is an idea that goes all the way back to Ezekiel the prophet, albeit it was a metaphor he employed in a negative way.

 

         While Ezekiel was in the Babylonian exile with the Israelites, God spoke to him in what might be seen as theatrical imagery. The prophet had apparently become a popular figure, for the Lord spoke of how the people were talking about him both privately and publicly, urging others to come and hear what the Lord was saying through him. Then the Lord said, “So they come as people do, they sit before you as My people, and they hear your words, but they do not do them; for with their mouth they show much love, but their hearts pursue their own gain” (Ezek. 33:31).

 

         Is that not like a theater? The next verse makes it even clearer: “Indeed you are to them as a very lovely song of one who has a pleasant voice and can play well on an instrument; for they hear your words but they do not do them.”

 

         They assembled to be entertained. They sat before the prophet and listened attentively. They found him as charming and entertaining as a lovely song played with a fine instrument. What a fine speaker he was! The problem was that his message from God had no effect on them. They heard but they didn’t do.

 

         The church is here likened to a theater in a negative way in that it becomes the audience, gathered to be entertained. The preacher or the prophet is the program or the performer. The audience is expected to pay a fair price for the performance. That is the theater church.

 

         God’s complaint to Ezekiel may be equally true of us. The churches of today are careful to hire a minister who can gather and hold a crowd. He is to have a pleasing voice. Each Sunday he is expected to perform as one who can play well on an instrument. There is a system to maintain and a budget to meet. The size of the audience is the test of the performance.

 

         This is why people hop from one church to another. They are in search of a “voice” that satisfies them, a program that entertains. It is also why there is a marked decrease in congregational loyalty. People are in search of what they want more than what they need. Like those in Ezekiel’s day they are more eager to hear than to do. They are an audience, not a congregation; a theater, not a community of faith.

 

         But there is a more positive way that the church may be likened to a theater. Soren Kierkegaard, the Danish philosopher who had a heart for the reformation of the church, saw the church as a theater in a radically different way. The congregation is not to be an audience, he insisted, but the performers, the players on the stage. Their thoughts, prayers, hymns, responses are the performance.

 

         Like actors that do not always know their lines, they need a prompter for their acts of devotion and their vows of obedience. The prompter is the leader or minister. The minister does not give the performance, the congregation does. The minister leads the congregation in its uplifting performance before God, who is of course the audience.

 

         In this theater church worship is not listening to the choir and the minister in a grand performance, but an uplifting of heart and soul to God. The congregation is like an orchestra that presents a heart searching rendition to God of “teaching, fellowship, breaking of bread, and prayers” (Acts 2:42). The church as a family gathers to perform to the Father, not to be performed to by the pastor.

 

         Paul gets close to this idea when he speaks of “the whole body joined and knit together by what every joint supplies, according to the effective working by which every part does its share, causes growth of the body for the edifying of itself in love” (Eph. 2: 16). Every part does its share! The whole church is joined in building itself up in love! No audience there. The church is more like an orchestra, performing beautifully to God who is the audience.

 

         We have to admit that as today’s church we are not where Kierkegaard and Paul were. We are more like the church in Babylonian exile that was content to be the audience and listen to pious platitudes.

 

         But there are signs of hope. Our audience churches often get a feel of being a theater – performing church in its small group sessions with their “house church” setting. Most all our renewal efforts encourage more congregational participation. This includes more singing and more responsive activity. It is interesting that this usually entails more standing. Ancient churches often stood for the entire service. The Orthodox churches still do, with no pews. Well, if you’re players on a stage performing to God, you don’t need pews!

 

         It is noteworthy that when Orthodox folk visit America they find more commonality in black churches. One reason for this is that the African-American churches, like the Orthodox, take worship seriously. They get involved and they are enthusiastic. And they don’t watch the clock! They even help the prompter (speaker) along with a chorus of Amens and the likes of, “Now you’re saying it!”

 

         And have you noticed that African-Americans are always dressed up for church, the men in jackets and the women in their Sunday best, often with hats. They never go leisure, the occasion is too important. Well, if you were to be on stage performing before a heavenly audience, wouldn’t you dress up?

 

         Our African-American brethren may have something to teach us in moving from audience church, where at best we make good listeners. to theater church, where we are the performers. God and the angels are the audience. – Leroy

 

 

 

Between Us . . .

 

         I enjoy my twice-a-year visits to Nashville where I sit on the board of the Disciples of Christ Historical Society and usually speak at a nearby church. Those on the board not only share a love for Christ and his church, but also a commitment to our Stone/Campbell heritage. In our November dinner meeting we said goodbye to a dear old friend, Eva Jean Wrather. with a memorial service. Eva Jean was both a Campbell scholar and a founder of the historical society. We will miss her. Since Ouida was not along this time, she missed out on my visit to nearby Franklin where I spoke at Forest Home Church of Christ the following Lord’s day. I had the honor of being introduced by old friend Perry Cotham. I was guest in the home of Gene and Wanda Hatcher.

 

         But Ouida was with me in an exciting visit to the Central Arlington Church of Christ, a sizable African-American congregation where Ken Morrison ministers. Central Arlington is one of many black churches seeking greater freedom in Christ.

 

         On four Wednesday evenings in January, beginning on Jan. 9, I am to do a series on the ministry of the Holy Spirit at the Garden Ridge Church of Christ in Lewisville, Tx., 20 miles north of Dallas. The address is 102 N. Garden Ridge Rd. We promise you a great time in the Lord if you can join us.

 

         On Lord’s day, Jan. 20, I am to address a congregation in Ft. Worth that I have long heard about and desired to visit. They call themselves the Park Hill Church, but they are for the most part Church of Christ folk who have become avant-garde. They have a reputation of blessing many lives to the glory of God. Ouida and I invite you to join us at this exciting church. I will speak to joint classes at 9:30 and the assembly at 10:45. The address is 2900 W. Lancaster in Ft. Worth, Tx. Phone 817-338-1331.

 

         Whether we like it or not, circumstances are forcing us to know something about Islam. A Canadian theologian has blessed us with a concise study titled Christ and Islam: Understanding the Faith of Muslims. In only 74 pages he tells you about Muhammad the prophet, the Quran (the Muslim Bible), and the basic tenets of Islam. There is a chapter on Jesus in the Quran. $6 postpaid.

 

         Three recent publications that speak to the changing scene in Churches of Christ deserve your attention: The Transforming of a Tradition: Churches of Christ in the New Millennium, edited by Leonard Allen and Lynn Anderson. is a collection of essays by some of our more adventurous thinkers. Jim Clark’s More Than We Could Ask: Reaching Upward to God and Outward to Others is appropriately titled in that it deals with areas of spirituality that we have neglected. Milton Jones, who also has an essay in the first book mentioned, has done Christ: No More, No Less, the subtitle of which, How to Be a Christian in a Postmodern World, tells you what it is about. Each title is $16 and that includes postage and mailing.

 

         We are pleased that The Stone-Campbell Movement by Leroy Garrett remains in print and continues to be used. We can send you a copy for $25 postpaid.

 

         The Twisted Scriptures by Carl Ketcherside is a study of how well-meaning people have abused the very Scriptures they profess to love for the sake of sectarian doctrine. $9 postpaid.