On Worship . . .

We have become accustomed to a sequence of events that constitute worship.In our Protestant tradition, the elements usually include hymns, Scripture reading, offering, prayer and sermon.  These standard activities may be arranged differently and augmented according to denomination or local tradition. 

Each of these actions has a valid purpose: celebration, unity, devotion, tradition, instruction, inspiration - -all important to the worshiping congregation.  But some more basic consideration needs to be made.

First, God does not need to be worshiped.  It is we who need to rise above our daily adoration of wealth, notoriety, stardom, success, and the all-too-human admiration of power and position.  It is we who need to reset our focus on things beyond everyday concerns, to consider timeless things like forgiveness, love, compassion, and justice.  Worship of God frees us from being all wrapped up in ourselves.

Second, our worship is not designed to change God's mind.  It is an opportunity to change our mind.  Worship encourages us to set our priorities in order, to recognize the rigidity, the prejudice, the unfairness in our minds.  It may set some new values; it may lead to our giving up some goals; it may call us to a new level of existence.

Finally, worship does not call on God for a miracle.  Its magic lies in the miracle it works in our own lives.  Worship is a kind of report to our Creator.  That can mean reflecting on what we have done with God's gift -- our selves.  That can mean facing up to the next step we must take in our personal evolution.  And that can move us to a higher level of humanity.  Worship lifts us.

Larry Gruman

87th BIRTHDAY SURPRISE

For my 87th birthday, my son Peter wrote a superb rendition of the Emancipation Proclamation celebrating the many poems I have written over the years to mark family events. Then he enlisted all our kids and grandkids from all over the country to contribute to the video version of this wonderful tribute. 

What a celebration! 

You can view the entire tribe - plus Ellie - here: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5SBDY-4tMgY

And here is the text of my personalized version of the Emancipation Proclamation: 

Four score and seven years ago Charlotte and Del brought forth, upon the frozen tundra of the north central midwest, a new boy, conceived in Minneapolis, and dedicated to the proposition that "all poems are not created equal."

Now we are celebrating the birthday of Larry Gruman, a great minor poet, testing whether his poetry, or any poetry so conceived, and so dedicated, can long endure. We are well read on the subject of the YMCA, Valentine’s Day, swimming lessons and sweaters, trampolines, trains and the Ducks.

We have in fact come to dedicate portions of our homes as the final resting place for those poems, that this light verse may live. 

This we may, in all propriety do. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow, this poetry ourselves alone — The brave little cinquains, sonnets, blank verse, yes, even the doggerel which struggled to make a rhyme, have hallowed it, far above our poor power to add or detract.

The world will little note, nor long remember what we say about these poems; while it can never forget the man who gave them life.

It is rather for us, the children and grandchildren of Larry, we here be dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that, from these dozens, nay hundreds, of honorable heptameters, stanzas, even the occasional falling meter (but never the onomotopoeia), we take increased devotion to that cause for which they were created in the fullest measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve these poems shall not have been composed in vain; that this verse shall have a new birth of freedom, and that poetry of the Larry, by the Larry, for the family of the Larry, shall not perish from the earth.

THE. CALL. FROM. THE. MOUNTAINSIDE

"Is everybody ready for a rugged mountain climb?

We're leaving in the morning, and we want to go on time."

My Dad was just suggesting that he didn't want to stop, THE MOUNTAINSIDE IS CALLING: I'LL MEET YOU AT THE TOP

We checked our backpacks, every one, and counted out our gear.

The water, food, and sleeping bag, our socks and shoes: all here; 

Matches, flashlight, candy bars, a jackknife from the shop, THE MOUNTAINSIDE IS CALLING: I'LL MEET YOU AT THE TOP

The car is loaded and we're off; the sun has yet to show 

We shiver in the morning cold, but we're all set to go. 

We're all excited , happy, and our minds about to pop, THE MOUNTAINSIDE IS CALLING: I'LL MEET YOU AT THE TOP

We park our car, get loaded up, bent over with the pack, 

And set our sights away up high, we find the mountain track.

We follow Dad in single file and step along clip-clop, THE MOUNTAINSIDE IS CALLING: I'LL MEET YOU AT THE TOP

Halfway up the mountain we make our little camp. 

Of course the ground is rocky and everything is damp. 

But the climb has taken all our strength, we're all about to drop, THE MOUNTAINSIDE IS CALLING: I'LL MEET YOU AT THE TOP

We don't wake up til sunlight comes and then we spend the day.

Exploring creeks and rocky hills and making time to play.

When night- time comes we light a fire, we're ready now to flop, THE MOUNTAINSIDE IS CALLING: I'LL MEET YOU AT THE TOP

Our family adventure is done; we're heading  down. 

We'll  have a lot of memories to carry back to town.

And next year we will make it, the cream of the crop, THE MOUNTAINSIDE IS CALLING: I'LL MEET YOU AT THE TOP

THAT TRAMPOLINE IS KEEN!

Look at the movie and you will see
The trampoline's the thing for me.
First I pop up over the rim
And then I'm off with all my vim.
It's up in the air for a cannonball,
Down, and then it's standing tall
With arms all spread and twirling around
Then down on my knees and up I bound.
This time up I touch my nose
Then put my hands out on my toes
Sitting down, then up I vault
And turn a little somersault.
Then land on my back, next time way high
I reach up to touch the sky
  And next,  just  like a circus clown,
  I  lay out on the pad face down,
  Jump up and twist three times around
  And sit up when I touch the ground
  Then fold my arms and bow my head
  And land again with legs wide spread
  There's lots more of these tricks, I know,
  I'll learn new ones wherever I go
  They'll be the best you've ever seen
  Oh boy, that trampoline is keen!

The Y's Way to Get Wet

If this dry season makes you drool
What you need is the swimming pool
Exercise is what you'll get
All the while you're getting wet.

        Chorus:

    Ho , ho, ho for you and me
     The pool is where you want to be

The swimming pool is full  of folk
Who like to paddle, kick and stroke
And if action's what you wish
They'll swing their tail like little fish.

They all are groupies, you must know
Sabrina helps to run the show
Jackie's the conductor, and
Colleen dances to beat the band.

It happens every weekday morning
And so I tell you, here's a warning:
It's not raining  inside, not yet -
Come to the Y and you'll get wet!

 The rains will come, they always do,
We'll all get dampened through and through
Outside it's dry, so get together -
Enjoy October's bright blue weather!

SABBATH

The Hebrew word SEVEN is SHABBAT.  And long before history was written, the seventh day of the week had significance for the Hebrew people.  Writers attributed that special day to a desire for servants's need for rest. 

When the people of Judah (southern Israel) were expelled to Babylonia, the religious authorities were pressed to retain their national customs lest the people become domesticated to their captors' ways. They focused on circumcision and Shabbat as irreducible elements in their religious practice.

However, since the Hebrews had no account of the world's creation, they adopted the Babylonian story of creation arising in eight acts.  But in order to fit the time-honored seventh-day of rest, they condensed the creation sequence into six days, with two acts of creation squeezed into two separate days.  That account, although a bit clumsy, survived as the opening chapter of Genesis. 

In order to reinforce the Shabbat element in their history, the writers inserted seventh-day observances into David's story, for example.  And that practice resounded into the Jesus story as well.  The Christian heritage followed that pattern of weekly-day-of-rest, and western civilization followed suit, despite the oddities that causes in the calendar. The world has adopted that rhythm, so we have today a religion-based order of days.

No Excuse for Groundlings

A favorite story comes from a Danish philosopher named Kierkegaard. He describes a flock of ducks flying over the countryside, swooping and gliding.

One of the ducks suffers a kind of seizure and decides to leave the formation and land in a a farmyard below.  There he joins a flock of chickens, participates in the chickens' routines of feeding and sleeping and strutting about the farmyard. After a few days in that barnyard he decides he has the strength to fly again, so he tries out his wings. But he has lost his flying skills, and cannot fly. Then he sinks back into the chicken yard to resume his comfortable grounded life with the chickens.

That story reminds one of how easy it is to fall into an ordinary routine that loses touch with higher, more demanding ways of life. The apostle Paul pleaded:     

   

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind." That is a good reminder that we live in a world where profits and power are at a premium, where success trumps truth, where revenge and control are valued . . . where Christian virtues of compassion and forgiveness and humility and faith are frequently ignored. We choose many times a day between the conformity and a transformed way of life.

John Oxenham wrote "To Everyman there openeth a high way and a low and every man decideth which way his soul shall go".  And we know that daily  living requires choices. I recall with anguish a choice I made back in fourth grade. In taking a written test, I looked across the aisle to another pupil's sheet to get an answer.  The teacher clapped her hands and said in a loud voice, "Larry, you are cheating."  And I answered, "But other people are doing that too." She called back, "Never excuse yourself for doing what others are doing".

So I got caught in that chicken yard, a groundling who could have been flying.