Merry Christmas Break

I'm taking an undeserved break for about a week. I hope all my readers have a joyful and restful Christmas. During the holiday season keep your feet on the ground, your eyes on the stars, and the bugs off your windshield. See you in early January!

RIP Larry Greenawalt

Oh God, how many times am I going to have to go to the beach and cry? I wouldn't give up the fact that there are so many people I know and love, but when they die it's excruciating. Larry Greenawalt was the accompanist at Trinity United Methodist in Central City when I attended there. His exuberance is hard to convey in writing. He died a few days ago when a blood clot in his leg went to his heart, killing him instantly and without any pain. He was not quite 55 years old. I will miss how he called me "darlin". I will miss him as "Mr. G" with his children's music business. He was a total kid magnet. I will miss his extraordinary keyboarding skills and funny music. If only you could have heard his "My Grandpa Is the Santa Claus at Wal-Mart" which ended, "Now this is funny. Uncle Fred's the EASTER BUNNY!" Then there were his performances with his sidekick Karen Kohler in their show Das Kabarett. He loved an audience and we were happy to provide one. As I write this I'm listening to his Das Kabarett song "It's All a Swindle" first written in 1931 by Marcellus Schiffer and called Alles Schwindel. Excerpt from song:

Papa swindles

Mama swindles

Grandmama's a lying thief

We're perfectly shameless

But we are blameless

After all it's our belief

Nowadays the world is rotten

Honesty has been forgotten

Fall in love, but after kissing

Check your purse to see what's missing!

Everyone swindles some

My son's a mooch

And so's the pooch!

*****************************************

Politicians, they're magicians

They make swindles disappear

The bribes they are taking

The deals they are making

Never reach the public's ear

The Left betrays, the Right dismays

The country's broke, and guess who pays?

But tax each swindle in the making

Profits will be record-breaking!

Everyone swindles some,

So vote for who

Will steal for you!

Maybe this is a song about the world Bernie Madoff grew up in.

Nobody did it all better than you, Larry. I know you're bringing love and laughter wherever you are. I'll see you again someday.

Love, Ann

United Methodism in the 21st Century

Woo hoo! My church is thinking young! In Pittsburgh, there is a church publicity campaign going on that features cell phone text messaging. Our 18th-century founder, John Wesley, would have loved this. He used the most current technology of his time, the printing press. And he caught a lot of heat for that. We are getting some heat for this too. Some are saying it's "gimmicky." Too bad. I say we need to go where the people are, and texting is where the young people especially are. Danette Howell, of our advertising and marketing group Igniting Ministries, has been working on this. She posted the ABC news show discussing it on Facebook. I hope it spreads and spreads. If you're interested in church text message advertising, here's the video.

The Dawn of Reflection

After a good night's sleep, I woke up this morning less in the mood to throw a pie or shoe at someone. I revisited the previous post and realized that all writing is autobiography in some way, and pie-throwing is especially so. I understood in the light of dawn who I want to pitch a pie at.

It's the guy who just contacted me asking me to be his friend on Facebook. It was his second try. I ignored his first one. I'll call him Reverend Weasel Ooze. Weasel was on my Probationary Perceptive Panel long years ago, when he was less than straight with me. Okay, I'll be honest. He lied to me. After all this time I could overlook that. But a few years later Weasel, still on the PPP, prevented a good friend of mine from getting ordained. This man, Chuck, was in his probationary period at the time. He ran into Weasel one night while dining with his teenage daughter at a restaurant and they chatted. Weasel loved telling dirty jokes. He told a very raunchy story in front of Chuck's young daughter. Chuck asked to talk with him in private and got furious with Weasel. Weasel muttered an apology, but later went to the PPP and managed to block Chuck's ordination. Our loss. Chuck went Presbyterian.

Weasel has a penchant for saying one thing to the face and another behind the back. I was stunned to get two "friend requests" from him. He must be desperate. I know I need to forgive Weasel. Basically, I have. Not completely, because forgiveness is a process, but I'm working on it. But there is a difference between forgiveness and watching my back. Weasel is treacherous. I trust him as far as I can throw him. To avoid him is not un-Christian. It shows street smarts.

Because I have sort of forgiven him, I will not keep a pie crust and whipped cream on hand in case Rev. Weasel Ooze ever shows up at my door. But it's tempting. Oh, it's tempting.

Pie-Throwing Potential

One place where I would like to see pie-throwing is after a new pastor's Probationary Period. Probationary Period in my denomination is how neophytes earn their initiation (or not) into the hallowed circle of fully ordained pastors. During this time of testing, the new pastors, called probationers, work in churches on a trial basis under supervision. For a three-year period, they have to go on twenty-four hour retreats every other month with the Probationary Perceptive Panel (PPP) for continuous observation and assessment. The PPP are the pastors who serve as evaluators and gatekeepers. After the three years are over, the PPP decides who gets accepted and who doesn't. The dread of being rejected after three years of work is huge. I got through my Probationary Period just fine, thanks to all that drinking. How else to manage the stress?

After getting ordained, the no-longer-neophytes probably have a grudge or two against at least one of the PPP authority figures who loomed large in their lives for so long. Just after ordination, the ex-probationer should be encouraged to throw a pie at the PPP member of their choice. It would be cathartic. It would also help to equalize the relationship, making it more collegial. Furthermore, if one particular member of the PPP was the chosen target of an unduly large number of pies, the PPP might decide to re-evaluate that person's place on the committee. The pie-throwing would provide a crude but effective visual of exactly who it was the newbies didn't like.

Thoughts like this keep me from making any real progress in life.

Throwing Shoes, Pies, and Fits

Ever since that Iraqi reporter threw his shoes at President Bush, I have been pondering the possibilities of throwing things. The shoe-throwing turned out to be good for that shoemaker's business. Suddenly orders are pouring in for similar shoes. Possibly what people will most remember about this presidency will be a flying shoe.

We threw things at HiTekk in Central City when I worked there, but not shoes. HiTekk sales representatives were notorious for throwing balls around. One Saturday morning a young man threw a ball into the air and accidentally hit the sprinkler system, releasing enough water to ruin $300,000 worth of computers and copiers. He was, as the HiTekk euphemism puts it, "freed to pursue other opportunities."

At HiTekk we also threw pies on certain occasions. If a team met its sales goal for the month, team members were sometimes allowed to throw a pie at their manager. This was wildly popular. It would never work in the church. Pie-throwing only works at masculine-oriented organizations. HiTekk is so masculine, when you walk in the door you can smell the steroids. It is tough, muscular, sports-minded, and competition-driven. And that's just the women.

Vive la difference. My church is a world away from that. HiTekk runs on testosterone, while the church runs on estrogen. This is true even though there are both men and women in each place. I contemplated what it would be like if a given Region paid all its benevolences before all the other Regions did, and someone was allowed to throw a pie at the Regional Poobah. It wouldn't work. Some of the RP's are so popular that whoever was getting ready to throw the pie would put it down. Through tears, he or she would say, "I can't do this. I like you too much!"

Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

I have to salute Christmas now as it is almost here. Along with the carols, I am trilling "Happy Christmas" by John Lennon and "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time" by Paul McCartney. What's Christmas without Mary, Joseph, the infant Jesus, the angels, the shepherds, the wise men, and the Beatles?

This video of the Nativity banishes all the commercialism at least for a while and brings Christmas into its own again. Two gay Christian friends forwarded the link. I have often wondered at how earnest and sincere is the faith of many gay Christians. It is all the more striking because of how some non-gay Christians treat them.

This Nativity scene comes across as authentic. The people really look like people that came from that region, and the manger looks like a manger, and it's all there. It is truly all there.