If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away---Henry David Thoreau

Thursday, November 12, 2009

In honor of Elizabeth Cady Stanton's birthday today


Elizabeth Cady Stanton (November 12, 1815-October26, 1902)was a key leader of the early women's movements, an abolitionist. Although an abolitionist she opposed voting rights for African-American males, over against Frederick Douglas and often with racist language, while at the same time she called for a universal rights, including voting rights for freed African-American women. Her Declaration of Sentiments were read at the first women's rights convention at Seneca Falls, New York in 1848, which declared that men and women were created equal. She worked alongside Susan B. Anthony in their struggles for women's rights.Stanton is also known for writing one of the first feminist critiques of the Bible in the 1890s called the Women's Bible.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

William Sloane Coffin: pastor, social activist, peacemaker


Finished this ink drawing of William Sloane Cofin for my series Artisans of Social Change.

Rev. William Sloane Coffin (1924-2006)was a liberal Protestant cleric, social activist and international peacemaker. Coffin was pastor of famous interdenominational Riverside Church in New York City for many years, who publicly opposed the war in Vietnam, calling for civil disobedience, was part of the Southern Freedom movement (he hosted Rev. Dr. Martin Luther Luther King Jr. at Riverside), supporter of gay rights, and a strong advocate of nuclear disarmament.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Does Mite Make Right? a different interpretation of the story of the widow's mites

As he taught he said, "Beware of the scribes ... they devour widows houses ... " He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, " Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on." Mark 12: 38,40,41-44

Religious institutions have a potential for great good and great evil. When their goal becomes the glory of the institution itself, the institution can become corrupted and its religious leaders lose sight of their role of helping the poor and, instead, end up oppressing them. In a Time magazine article on "Gospel TV: Religion, Politics, and Money" the writers quote a Televangelist, who headed a religious broadcasting network with a budget of $35 million. This preacher-of-prosperity told his viewers that a widow had donated her life savings of $7000 and commented, "Do you realize what an awesome responsibility it is for me to stand here and encourage people to literally give all they have to God. I'm either the biggest fool and idiot and con man in the world or else I'm plugged in to heaven." (1) Now, a lot of us may have already figured out what he is. Who could spend this poor widow's $7000 on air time as quick as a child gets rid of a dime on candy? I’ll bet you may be wondering if this guy's plugged in at all! But, hold your opinion for just a minute.

Would you praise this poor widow for giving all that she had to an already wealthy religious institution? Yes? No? Well, ask yourself this question: Would you praise the poor widow in Mark's gospel for putting all that she had into the treasury of the already wealthy institution of the temple? It may be that we need to reexamine our traditional interpretation of Mark's story about the widow's mites and see if there might be a different lesson that Jesus' wants to teach his followers.

Are we to praise the poor for giving away all that they have to religious leaders and wealthy institutions? How we answer that question for ourselves may depend on how we interpret the story of the poor widow. The narrative tells how one day Jesus was sitting “over against” the temple treasury. Notice the intentional spatial language. In the Court of Women there were 13 trumpet-shaped receptacles where money could be deposited for the work of the temple. Jesus sat at the foot of one of the temple pillars near the treasury and watched the crowd.

The priests, part of Jerusalem's upper class, could be singled out from the common crowd in the temple by their long, flowing robes. They liked being noticed for their flashy clerical garb, getting ministerial discounts, and sitting next to the mayor or bishop at religious and civic functions. When they entered the court, commoners made way for them and evacuated the best places in the house. Cushions were brought and seats cleaned for the temple priests to sit and pray. To one side of the court the scribes, also a part of the upper class, sat and listened, to legal difficulties, often of poor widows and disinherited orphans, for a goodly fee, of course. The rich, robed in finery, processed by the treasury in all their pomp and circumcision and dropped in handfuls of coins, which loudly jingled as they fell into the trumpet-shaped receptacles. These grandiose offerings of the rich would go to feed the already bloated institution of the temple. And it didn't even make a dent in their finances.

Then, in contrast to the wealthy and powerful, who were throwing in handfuls of money with plenty left over, there came by the treasury a poor widow. Widows were among the poorest strata of Palestinian society. Life was difficult for the widow, living in a patriarchal society without a male to financially provide for them. Israel's covenant had its commandments to protect the rights of widows. But these often went unheeded.

We need not imagine the widow as elderly, since only about 20% of the population survived beyond their fortieth birthday, which would be the mortality rate of modern Bangladesh. It is interesting to note that the Hebrew word for "widow" was very close to the word for "be mute." Widows were the powerless and voiceless in a society which listened to the sound of money talking. Is there nothing new under the sun?

This poor widow had in her feeble hand two mites; literally, two quadrans, the smallest Roman coin of the time. Each coin amounted to about 1/8th of a penny. Together, her two coins amounted to 1/8th of what rabbi's taught should be given to a travelling beggar from the "Pauper's dish." It appeared that her two coins were her "life savings", all that she had.

Jesus called together his disciples to watch what was about to happen. The widow did not even keep one of the coins for herself She dropped both of them into the coffers. It was a flash in the pan, but it was everything that she had. And any small contribution that those two small coins made would be for the upkeep of the magnificent temple and the support of its upper-class attendants. Jesus turned to his disciples and said, "Truly, I tell you. This widow gave more than all the others. For they all gave out of their abundance, but she, out of her lack, gave all that she had, all her living." The question is: Was Jesus praising the woman, as we have traditionally interpreted the text, or was he lamenting the sorry state of affairs inflicted on the poor by the institutional system of the temple?

Does this story teach us to praise the poor when they give away everything they have to religious leaders and their wealthy institutions? Should we praise the sacrificial contributions of those poor who helped to pay for a certain preacher's $1million dollar home, another's $100 million dollar a year ministry, and another's $172 million theme park and rare 1939 Rolls-Royce, just to name a few of the extravagances of some religious leaders and their institutions? Some religious leaders even encourage their followers to use their savings and to borrow in order to give to their ministry. Are these practices to be commended, particularly when their TV appeals are often heard by low-income families, widows, or the elderly on fixed incomes?

Now, I don't want to just beat up on TV preachers, but they do seem make rather easy targets! At times the sneaky tactics of some Televangelists are directly aimed at getting the Christian dollars of those lonely widows, who sit at home with no other companion than the TV. There's one tactic that can yank on a thousand purse strings. All the preacher has to do is say something like, "The Lord is speaking to me. Thank you, Jeeeeezus! He's telling me that there's an elderly woman out there in Televisionland, who has some money stashed away in her house. She's been saving it for herself But the Lord told me to tell you, sister, not to hoard His money. Glory be to God! The Lord is telling me, yes, the word is clear, to take that step of faith and send it all in, so it can be used to do Gaaaawd's work. Amen? Amen!" Now, "figgerin'" that you got a TV audience of about 15 million watching, how many are old ladies with money stashed away for themselves somewhere in their house? The Lord doth move in mysterious ways His wonders to perform! Now, should we praise those widows, who do send in the little money they have to live on?

Social workers have complained that the elderly poor often give to religious broadcasters more than they can afford. One such incident occurred in Altoona, Pa., where a 67-year-old widow was threatened with a heat shut-off when she couldn't pay her gas bill. She had sent a large portion of her $331 monthly social-security check to a well known TV preacher who, to say the least, was not pinching pennies. Should we praise that Altoona widow for her sacrificial giving, particularly when we know that it is just going to add to the accumulated wealth of a religious institution and its leaders?

We need to beware of justifying institutional oppression of the poor, even if the institutions are religious. This is the danger we encounter with the traditional interpretation of Jesus' words about the widow's offering as being words of praise. Jesus' words have been interpreted as a commendation in a variety of ways as teaching First, the story is supposed to teach us that the true measure of gifts is not how much is given but how much remains behind. Second, the story teaches us that it is not the amount which one gives that matters but the spirit in which the gift is given, that is, as in self-offering, total commitment, loyalty to God's call, generosity, humility, detachment from possessions, or in trust that God will provide one's needs. Third, the story teaches us that the true gift is to give everything we have. Fourth, it teaches us that alms and other gifts should correspond with one's' means. Or fifth, the story of the poor widow teaches us that almsgiving is a duty. It would be interesting to examine each one of these interpretations of the story, but as we interpret the text within its context we will find that each of these interpretations is not without its problems.

Would Jesus commend the action of the widow in light of his previous condemnation of the Corban? This was a practice, among some in Jesus' day, of withdrawing financial support from their parents by declaring it "Corban", that is, "given to God." Jesus is remembered for having said that human needs take precedence over religious ritual, obligation, and observance when the two come in conflict. Would Jesus condemn the Corban, that could impoverish elderly parents out of a pretense of religious obligation, and then turn around and commend the widow for giving away all her money, leaving her totally destitute, in order to support the corrupted temple institution?

The story of the Widow's mites is preceded by a warning against and condemnation of the scribes, the elite and wealthy religious leaders who loved to "strut their stuff" in the temple and who under the pretense of long prayers "ate up widow's houses." In other words, their so-called trusted position as religious leaders in "the house of prayer," had allowed them to benefit off poor widows, like the one in our story, to the point that they "ate them out of house and home" with their profiteering. They did this by either a practice of pilfering off widows' estates, while holding their property in trust or by the simple fact that they were the one's in charge of the temple, whose costs were devouring the goods of widow's.

We must interpret the story of the widow in light of its context of the preceding passage that condemns the scribes who "eat up widow's houses," the story's anti-temple context, which includes the story of the cursing of the fig tree (a symbol of the temple), the parable of wicked tenants (which represent wicked religious leaders ), Jesus' expulsion of the money-changers from the temple (a prophetic act symbolizing the condemnation of the economic exploitation of the temple institution), his condemnation of the temple as becoming a "den of thieves," as well as the story that follows today's text about how the disciples marvel at the wondrous temple, while Jesus predicts that one stone shall not be left standing on top of another. Within this anti-temple context, the interpretation of the story as Jesus praising the widow for offering her last red cent to the temple becomes questionable.

Could it be that Jesus is rather lamenting the sad situation of the widow, exploited by the corrupted temple institution? Could it be that he is saying something to his disciples like, "Look at that poor widow. The rich can just skim off the top and support the temple. No loss. But she has given to the temple everything she had to live on. Her house has been completely eaten up."

If we take the traditional interpretation of this story as Jesus' praise of the widow's offering, we may need to apologize for our negative reactions to all the widows of our day who give everything they have to wealthy religious institutions, and rather praise them. Even if we see this story as one of praising the widow's offering, we must at least remember its context and beware of using it to justify institutional oppression of the poor. Institutional oppression of the poor is something we must beware of even in our day. Institutions, including religious ones, can become sinful and exploit those in need. Sin is not only personal. It is social and effects institutions, just as it had effected the institution of the temple in Jesus' day. Sin can stain the social fabric of any society.

When we buy our coffee from "Juan Valdez", who is in reality a poor South American living in a shack with a sick wife and six underfed children and is paid pennies to harvest coffee beans by a U.S. multinational corporation, instead of producing edible food for his own country, but is exploited for an enormous profit, which is passed on to us, then... we are involved in the social sin of economic institutions. Social sin happens when we pass budgets that support the military-industrial complex by allocating billions to building stealth bombers and advanced nuclear weapon technology, while we cut Social Security for widows and the elderly, and reduce medicaid and medicare benefits for the poor, the fatherless, and those on fixed incomes.

The institutional sins that plagued the poor widow with only two mites to her name, still plague the church today. Like Jesus and the disciples, who watched it happening in the temple, we can see it happening in the church. And it is a cause to lament the sorry state of religious institutions. We must lament what happened in countries in South America in the 80’s, and even today, where the official church supported the wealthy and turned a blind eye toward their US backed military, which supported the oligarchy of elite landowners, who exploited the poor campesinos. And when the poor sought land reform or tried to improve their situation, they were terrorized and murdered by the military's death squads. EI Salvador has been a country full of poor widows. Yet, the majority of US churches remained silent or oblivious to this exploitation of the poor that was in our own back door.

We may look and lament when we see, in our own wealthy country, the treasuries of large churches spent on expensive church buildings, padded pews, stained glass windows, and extravagant musical productions, but find it hard to cough up a few dollars to help house the homeless or pay the light bill of a single mother. But even small churches need to take a hard look and lament how their budgets and personal energies are spent on their own agenda to the point that the needs of others are forgotten.

The unjustifiable exploitation of others by religious leaders, like the scribes and priests of Jesus' day,still happens and is to be lamented. I once watched on the news two rather well-fed pastors being arrested and accused of siphoning off money from a widow's estate that they held in trust for her. When I heard it, I immediately thought of Mark’s story of the poor widow, which accuses the scribes of "eating up widow's houses." Clergy, such as myself, must always beware of the danger of using others for personal gain, in whatever form it may take.

If we are not aware and responsive to this word of Christ from the widow's story, we may become blind to how economic, political, social, and even church institutions, can exploit those already in need, and then justify it in the name of supporting religion.

As Christians, who are a part of a religious institution, the church, we are to creatively work toward caring for those in need. Did you know that the office of deacon was created by the early church as a response to the needs of widows? (Acts 6) The church even created an' official ministry of widows;elderly women who were to care for the needs of others (I Timothy 5). What dignity it must have given to those widows, who in that society were mute and forgotten."

What can the church of today do to help, instead of exploit the needs of widows and the poor? Mennonite Central Committee relief sales are a contemporary creative means of supporting a worldwide effort to not just give charity, but dignity through teaching skills and providing markets that enhance the economic development of the poor, a great majority of which are women and widows. Mennonite Central Committee contributes, in a significant way, in helping those poor widows with their work among poor indigenous peoples. Through voluntary service young people, and retired alike, give of themselves to helping the poor widow and others with needs like her.

If you go to the church down on the corner of our street on a weekday you can sit and watch, not the poor widow giving away her last cent, but rather picking up bags of groceries from the food pantry, which we have the opportunities to contribute to. And we have heard personal reports of needy people, like the poor widow, living right next door who could be helped through our compassion. Could it be that our neighbor might just be that widow that gave away her last two cents? Maybe we could simply visit the widow next door. The apostle James said that one of the things that makes religion authentic is to visit the widow.

The story of the widow's mites, as traditionally interpreted, may truly inspire us to give. Just as long as the inspiration is not that poor widows impoverish themselves by giving everything to religious institutions, or that wealthy, North American Christians just need to skim a bit more off the top in their giving. However we interpret the story of the widow, it can, and probably should, inspire our giving.

But there is something even more profound that can happen with this story, more than just widow's mite inspiring us to greater giving. It happens when the might of Christ's word, which wants to speak from this story, is unleashed on our world. This word can shake the temple to its very foundation and spill the contents of its treasury. This word can alter the face of economic reality to look more like the face of Christ. This word can crack open the church's heart of compassion and justice.

__________________________________

(1) RichardN. Ostling, "Gospel TV: Religion, Politics, and Money," Time, February 17,1986,62-69.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

From every common bush: a sermon on Exodus 3:3-4


There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush. When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, "Moses! Moses!" And he said, "Here I am. Exodus 3: 3-4

A burning bush ignites everyday at Saint Catherine's Monastery at the foot of Mt. Sinai. In the small chapel of this ancient fortress cloister is a stained glass window of the burning bush. It flames in orange and yellow each day as the sun rises behind it. It is a reminder that the bush is still burning. God is still calling us from the common places of our lives.

God calls us from the midst of our everyday lives. The story of Moses' call from an ordinary bush reveals to us a God who calls out to us from within the world, from the midst of common places. The rabbis spoke of God's presence in the bush as "divine condescension." Moses was tending his sheep when God called him from an ordinary bush. Some have tried to explain the phenomenon of the burning bush as a case of St. Elmo's fire or that it was a particular desert bush that blooms bright flowers. What really made that bush burn was the fiery presence of God. An extraordinary God ignited that ordinary bush.

Moses encountered God in a common place. Moses was not kneeling with hands folded in a stained glassed sanctuary before a smoking stone altar. God called out to Moses while he was tending sheep. It would be like God calling us while we were typing on the computer or vacuuming the living room carpet. God shows up while Moses is on the job. And God speaks to him from an ordinary bush. The Sacred breaks in upon us from within our secular experiences. God speaks to us through that which is utterly human. We encounter God through that which is common and ordinary. It is God's presence which ignites the moment. Poet Elizabeth Barret Browning put the truth in this way:

Earth is crammed with heaven
And every common bush afire with God
But only the one who sees
takes off their shoes.


God speaks to us from the midst of everyday life. Have you ever had this kind of experience? It's late at night. You sit alone in the living room. The light from the TV burns up the dark like a retreat campfire. A voice speaks: "Hundreds of homeless will spend this night on the cold streets of the city." At other times you might just Iisten to such news with half an ear. But this time the words of this matter-of-fact report burn deep inside you. You feel as if something or someone is calling upon you to do something, anything.

Or you get a call from a friend from work. It's late in the evening. She has been having problems with her husband. She asks you if you might be able to come over and talk. You tell her your children are all asleep in bed. A soft voice responds, "I understand." As you listen to the silence on the other end of the phone, a voice begins to speak to you. It’s not your friend talking. Neither is it just your guilty
conscience. Something calls from the silence and seems to speak your name. And you must respond.

If you have had such experiences, then possibly you can understand Moses'encounter. From out of ordinary places and common human experiences we sense we are being called forth. Everyday experiences burst into flame with the presence of something which is utterly holy. A voice larger than life itself calls us forth. And we must respond. From the midst of everyday life God calls us.

And often the reason God calls us forth is to send us to people in need. God needed a servant like Moses to deliver his oppressed people held in bondage. It's not a question of whether or not God could have delivered Israel without human assistance. God's modus operandi is through human instruments. God needs people like you and me who will express the intents and purposes ill God through concrete human actions. The divine always works through the human. God's care is expressed through human caring. God's compassion is expressed through human compassion.

There is a story of Moses that says that he was one day grazing his flock and noticed that a little goat had strayed away, so Moses ran after it for fear that it would get lost and die of hunger and thirst in the wilderness. Suddenly, from a distance, Moses saw the little goat stop and drink deeply from a stream. He then understood that the goat was thirsty and why it had left the flock. When Moses came near he said,"My dear little goat! Had I known that you were so thirsty I would not have ran after you." After the goat quenched its thirst Moses placed it on his shoulders and carried it all the way back to the flock. "The goat is weak and young," he caringly thought, "therefore I must carry it." When God saw what Moses had done, God was greatly pleased and said to him, "Deep is your compassion, O Moses. Because of your compassion to this little animal, I will use you to show my compassion. You will shepherd my people Israel."

God's lovingkindness is expressed through human love and kindness. God's power to liberate works in cooperation with human initiative. God needed a human deliverer to liberate the Hebrew slaves. So, God called Moses. God still needs people who will express God's compassion for hurting humanity. So, God continues to call and send forth people into the world God calls and sends people like Harriet Tubman, a woman called "Moses" by her people. She helped transport slaves to freedom on the underground railroad. At night you might have heard the low whistle of the train near the slave cabins, or a bit of the signal song "Go Down Moses." In the morning another group of slaves would have been delivered from Pharoah's plantations. God calls and sends people like Peter Dyck, the Mennonite Central Committee leader who helped transport a group of Russian Mennonites through the Red Sea of Germany to their new homelands in South America.

God also calls and sends ordinary people like you and me. God calls and sends people to assist the ongoing work of refugee centers like the Catholic Worker houses. God calls and sends people to do voluntary service work in low income areas in the U.S. God calls and sends men and women to enter pastoral ministries and to plant churches in places like Los Angeles or as agricultural development workers in Bangladesh or Africa. But, God may be simply be calling you to reach out to that co-worker in distress or to go to a Sunday School room where there are five or six children who need someone to teach them the story of Moses and about our mighty God who still liberates hurting and exploited peoples. God still sees the needs of people with eyes of compassion. It may the needs of oppressed people in Latin America or the simple needs of a neighbor. God sees. And God sends people to respond
to those needs.

The problem seems to be that when God calls us, we tend to make excuses. When God called Moses he had full deck of excuses up his sleeve. Moses responded to God's call with excuses like, "But...but God, I didn't get my name in Who's who. When I go to Pharoah he will say, "Who's he?” But...but God, I don't even know your name. Is it Harold? Harold be thy name? But, God…I'm always stumbling over my words. But...but...but. According to one Jewish Midrash it took God seven
days to convince Moses to go to Pharoah.

The call of Moses fits the typical literary pattern of the call of a prophet. God comes on the scene. God calls the prophet to perform a task. The prophet resists (most often with excuses). The call is repeated. Finally, a sign is foretold. Resisting God's call with excuses is a part of the literary pattern of the call of a prophet.

But excuses also seem to be a part of a human pattern when responding to God’s call. We all make excuses for our inadequacies and mistakes. We often give pretty lame reasons for why we went through the red light or were late for work or didn't prepare for the test. When we feel inadequate we make excuses for why we can't do this or that. When we do something wrong, we try to shift the load of blame off our own shoulders, We may excuse ourselves simply by how we word our responses. Like these awkwardly worded statements found on actual insurance forms reporting accidents: "The telephone pole was approaching. I was attempting to swerve out of its way when it struck the front end." I didn’t realize that trees can attack cars. O how about this doozie: "To avoid hitting the bumper of the car in front, I hit the pedestrian!" Would want to damage two good cars!

Charles R. Snyder, a psychologist at the University of Kansas, has studied excuse making for six years. He says, "Excuses are a way of finding grace in a world in which we are imperfect." (1) Moses knows he is imperfect for the job God has called him to perform, so he makes excuses. God calls us. And we make excuses, "But God, I'm just too busy. But God, I don't have the skills or training. But God, I don't
speak gooder." "But, but, but. " But God… doesn't crush us for all our excuses. God is graceful. God knows we are imperfect. In spite of our imperfections and excuses, God still calls us.

We have the assurance that God will be with us as we go. God promised a reluctant and imperfect Moses, "I will be with you." Moses had the assurance that as he took upon himself the task to which God had called him, God would be present all along the way. God would be working through Moses. And the sign of GOD's presence was not the flaming bush. It was the simple promise that Moses would worship with God's people on that same mountain following the exodus. That's all Moses had to go on. A promise. In the end he would bring the people to the mountain. Not much to go on, but there was the promise. Moses had to respond to God's call with only a simple promise of God's unseen presence.

Jesus has told us, "Go into all nations and make disciples." We are to be instruments, servants of God, to go on Christ's behalf to a hurting world in need of the liberating news of the gospel. That is our calling. Christ is God's fiery presence calling us to go down to a people in bondage to suffering and sin. We are God's human instruments of liberation. And whether the task be great or small, whether or not we feel adequate for our mission, we still have the promise; "I will be with you always, even unto the end of the world." There’s the promise. Christ will be with us.

Whenever God calls, God also promises. God promises to be with you. Whatever God may call you to do for the sake of people who need your presence and compassion, you have the assurance of God's presence. God may not speak from a flaming bush. God may not show up as a cloud by day and a fire by night. God may simply be in the confidence we have from a simple promise like "wherever two or three are gathered..." or an assurance within you that says, "You will know I have been with you when you come out on the other side of this situation you are facing."

You may not be a Moses. You may not have such a dramatic encounter with God that you feel like taking off your shoes. You may not be called upon to face an empire. But, God still calls you. And God sends you. And God promises to be with you as you go.

Can you hear God calling? From the wildernesses of your life? From your common and ordinary routines? Even from within the crackling of the words of this sermon as common as a bush? Can you see the burning of God's presence? God calls out to you. The bush is still burning.

For earth is crammed with heaven
and every common bush afire with God
But only the one who sees
takes off their shoes.


__________________

(1) John M. Leighty, "Excuses, excuses, excuses: Everybody has a few," Houston Chronicle, August 16, 1987.

Oumou Sangare, Malian Wassoulou singer and social activist

















I recently finished this scratchboard of Oumou Sangare for my series of drawing entitled M.U.S.I.C. Musicians Undermining Social Injustice Creatively. Oumou is a well known Malian singer, businesswoman, and social activist. Wassoulou music grows out of the ancient hunting traditions of her people and is accompanied by calabash (gourd shaker strung with shells). Sangare has stuggled for woman against the injustices of child marriage and polygamy.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

This Is It, Michael Jackson






















Went to see "This Is It," the documentary on Michael Jackson's rehearsals for his final tour before his death. The movie gave people a backstage pass to watch the "King of Pop" prepare for an upcoming tour. You see his professionalism, keen sense of music, amazing dance moves, and ability to gently exert his power to get what he wants out of the people involved in the production.

Above you will see my tribute to MJ in a scratchboard of him I have added to my series of drawings entitled M.U.S.I.C.: Musicians Undermining Social Injustice Creatively.

Mennonite Weekly Review receives second place Award of Merit from Associated Church Press for my article "When is a peace church..."


This morning I got a call from a member of a small Menonite congregation I attend here in Portland to give me songs to play this coming Sunday. Then, she said she read in Mennonite Weekly Review, a Mennonite church publication, that I had received an award for an article I had written. I was totally unaware of any award. So, I looked it up on the internet and found this (http://www.mennoweekly.org/2009/5/18/mwr-awarded-press-association/?print=1):

________________________________________

May 18 issue
MWR awarded by press association
By Mennonite Weekly Review staff

INDIANAPOLIS — For the seventh straight year, Mennonite Weekly Review received one of the top awards for newspapers at the Associated Church Press annual convention May 7.

MWR won the second-place Award of Merit in the Best in Class competition for national or international newspapers.

“A well-conceived, sharply focused paper executed with skill and craftsmanship,” judge Pamela Hill Nettleton wrote. “The writing is strong and clear, design does not muddle the message, and the mix of stories directly addresses the publication’s mission.”

The other top awards for newspapers went to The Christian Chronicle, affiliated with the Churches of Christ, which placed first; and United Church News, affiliated with the United Church of Christ, which placed third.

In seven years as an ACP member, MWR has received three first-place awards, three seconds and one third in the Best in Class competition.

MWR received two other awards:

a second-place Award of Merit in editorial or opinion writing for “When Is a Peace Church No Longer a Peace Church?” by Leo Hartshorn, minister of peace and justice for Mennonite Mission Network; (my italics)and

a third-place Honorable Mention for front-page design.

ACP, with about 150 members, is the oldest religious press association in North America.
_________________________________________

Better late in finding this out than never. Thanks MQR for letting me know!

The article can be found at: http://www.mennoweekly.org/2008/7/21/when-peace-church-no-longer-peace-church/

Sunday, November 1, 2009

In memory of my loving mother, Leona Hartshorn (1914-1999)






















Here are the flowers
crying in red

Here is the coffin
a cold, cold bed

Here is the grave
dug deep in the earth

Here is the preacher
who promises new birth

Here is the headstone
that marks where she lies

Here are the mountains
and there are the skies