An Icon of Hope

The death this week of Alexander Solzhenitsyn brought to mind teenage memories. For me, he was an early icon of resistance and courage, of human will rising above circumstance. My only access to his world was through his book, the Gulag Archipelago, which described the harsh injustices of the Stalin-era labor camps and secret prisons that stretched across Russia like a string of "islands" (the archipelago).

As ponderous as the book was, I could not stop reading it. Why it captured my imagination so at that age I am not sure now. I sure that the "mystery" status of the Soviet Union in the 1970's was part of it. This was long before Reagan labeled Russia "the evil empire," but the threat of our nuclear enemy was very public - even in small town South Carolina. Plus the theme of resistance against oppressive structures, especially at personal risk, is one that just naturally fits with the teen mindset. The frequent struggle then is "What cause will I take up? or What significance will my life make?" Well, I really don't know whether others have those questions, but I do remember a feeling of standing in the doorway to the "world" and wondering which way to go, and, would I find a path.

While in the gulag (prison) Solzhenitsyn wrote portions of his book in his mind, and memorized what he "wrote," so that 1) written evidence would not be found, and 2) he would have it for later publication. That still amazes me, not simply for the mental ability it reveals, but more so for the hope, trust, yes even "faith" in the future it evidences. Why commit to such mental toil unless you truly believe that one day you will be free, and you will be heard?

Survival depends on the evidence of things unseen, a hope or faith that one day there will be a "reversal." Jesus brought such hope to the powerless of Palestine, the cast-offs of society who were forever on the receiving end of exploitation. His first sermon in Nazareth of fulfilling the "day of the Lord" was an announcement of reversals his hearers could not yet see. Some believed in hope, others refused it for fear of what they would lose.

In my teen years I had first-hand evidence of hope and of resistance to reversals. My father was sent as a superintendent of public schools to the small town we lived with the task of integrating the school system. We were not welcomed there, especially when the community leaders realized my dad believed in respect to everyone and fairness for all, regardless of one's race or status. Yet Dad succeeded in his task, I believe because he had such a strong personal faith - a conviction that "right" could and would prevail. Some day I may blog a story or two of that struggle, but for now it is enough to say that a single individual, possessed with a firm faith, can be the catalyst that transforms individuals, structures, and the world.

Farewell Solzhenitsyn, and thank you.

A Two-fold Tribute

After staff meeting yesterday morning I drove to Charleston. As I got to Interstate 26 I hit the rain. But it was a gentle rain, and actually it was kinda nice driving in it. I even cracked open the window to enjoy the "smell" of the rain.

I was back in Charleston to visit a member in the hospital, and to attend the memorial service for a colleague, the Rev. Chad Davis. Chad was the Columbia District Superintendent when I came into the ministry. He was a personable and direct leader, devoted to the church and to addressing the social concerns of his generation.

Historic Trinity UMC on Meeting Street, where Chad served as pastor in the early 70's, was filled with ministers, family, friends, and one special person. That was the mother of Jason Yandle, a young man who tragically died in 1993 at the age of 16. Jason's donated heart was transplanted to replace Chad's diseased heart, giving Chad another 14 years of life, service, and grandparenting.

From the stirring strains of A Mighty Fortress Is Our God to the closing affirmation of Amazing Grace, the service was an emotional celebration of Chad's life, and the faith we share. His teenage grandson gave an eloquent tribute, that left us all longing to have a grandfather to love and inspire us just as Chad did him.

After the witnesses to our faith, and to Chad's life were finished, the service shifted focus. Chad's eldest daughter went to the pulpit and told us the story of Jason Yandle, who was an outstanding student and athlete, of the family's decision at his death to donate his organs, and of the special relationship between the families. They found out about each other when Mrs. Yandle heard Chad speak on a radio program about his heart transplant and figured out by the date that he was the one who'd received Jason's heart. The moving tribute concluded with a fitting plea, complete with handouts, for us all to become organ donors.

I returned to Sumter in time to catch the end of the Sumter High School Chorus fall concert in Trinity's sanctuary. I walked in as they were singing Giovanni Pergolesi's Alleluia, and simply stood in the back, drinking in the harmonic praise. Some days you cannot avoid the glory and love of God, revealed right here where we live, and die.

Trips and Journeys

When I go on a trip, I basically know where I'm going, how I'll get there and what I'll do. That's generally true whether the trip is to a neighboring city for a meeting, or to another country for personal enjoyment or mission work. There may be changes in the itinerary, or surprises along the way, but usually when I start out I pretty well know where I'll end up.

But a journey is different. With a journey, I kinda know where I hope to end up, but even that is unsure. And I'm even less sure the route I'll be following. About all I know is that it's time to move forward and that a certain path seems right for the present. There will be new pathways and choices in the path that no one can predict as the journey develops. And the outcome? Who knows. That's the reason you go on a journey in the first place, isn't it? - to discover the outcome.

Life is full of trips and journeys. Trips get us to places and back. Journeys take us to new places altogether. Journeys tend to show up at career time, in relationships, and in faith. Some people tend to prefer one over the other, so if you start out on a journey, don't pick a trip junkie for a roomie.

It's difficult when you have someone who wants trip information for a journey experience. And it's scary when someone confidently gives you trip information for a journey experience!

What's even more confusing is that you can be on many journeys at one time. For instance, we've started a journey with Mosaic worship - don't know where that will take us. The whole Aldersgate Special Needs Ministry is a journey. At our Council on Ministries meeting last night we discussed a general proposal for the future of Trinity that emphasizes children's ministries. We approved the initiative originating from the Capital Campaign Study Committee, but basically have no idea where the journey will take us. And interwoven in these journeys are the personal ones of discovery, trust and love.

One quality that enables all such journeys is simply an openness to the future. Maybe there are better words, but "openness" works for me. Step forward, risk self and investment, walk in faith - open to what will unfold in the journey. Don't shut off the journey just because you can't see the resources needed. Don't postpone the first step because the journey appears too daunting. Who knows what God will do? If the Bible has anything to say to us about this, it is that God will provide the 'manna' for each day. And just that experience can make the journey worthwhile.