The Gift of Light

In the Pentecostal tradition, and indeed in many other conservative evangelical churches, there is an aversion to formal liturgy. "It has to come from the heart." "We don't need a program, we just let God have his way." But formal programs, liturgy and the experienced, powerful, presense of the Spirit are not mutually exclusive necessarily.

Having been powerfully influenced by spiriual spontaneity in the formation of my faith, I don't usally write out the prayers of invocation that I am often asked to do in my role as a hospital chaplain. Perhaps the only thing more powerful than this influence is my fear of making a fool of myself in front of a few thousand people. The latter won out and as I have for a few other "big" events" I wrote out a prayer of invocation for our hospital's annual Gift of Light celebration. I have not had such a reaction to a public prayer since I used the word "vicissitudes" in an invocation at my former place of employment seven or eight years ago. So, here it is.

Gift of Light 2009
Let us Pray.
Almighty God, who in beginning declared “Let there be light” we come to you.
O God who’s Light pierced the darkness and the darkness comprehended it not, we call out to you.
O Lord of Light, in whose presence no darkness dwells, we turn to you and humbly ask that you hear our prayer.
As in the beginning, Lord, where there is darkness, let there be Light.
In the darkness of hatred, let there be Light.
In the darkness of loneliness, let there be Light.
In the darkness of poverty, let there be Light.
In the darkness of sickness, let there be Light.
In the darkness of grief, let there be Light.
In the darkness of sin, let there be Light.
Indeed, God we pray above all else that in our own hearts, let there be Light. Let your Light shine, surround us with its glow and fill us with its love so that we become lights, dispelling the darkness.
This is our prayer. Amen.

Blessings to you all,

Jerald

Betty's Legacy

Last Tuesday I was supposed to present a talk on Family Systems to our Space Coast Grief Education Alliance. I am the current vice-president of this multi-disciplinary organization. Our mission is providing education and support to those who are grieving.

I was unable to present because of the death of Betty Wilder, my sister’s mother-in-law. I received the news Sunday morning, worked most of Monday and then drove up to Tallahassee for the viewing and service. Had I been able to present my talk, among the things I would have talked about is family legacies.

In Contextual Family Theory, legacies are like strings that connect across generations. The behaviors and beliefs of preceding generations tug on the generation connected at the other end. Legacies can be positive or negative. With my talk preparations in my head, I listened and looked for those connecting strings.

There was a string of faith. Faith in God was central to Betty’s life, as it had been in her parents’ lives. There was another string of family connectedness. Thanksgiving Day gatherings at her mother's, Granny Goins, home could easily bring upwards of 75 family members together for dinner. But the string (legacy) that I heard most about was love.

Her nephew by marriage, Rev. Scott Kilgore, gave the eulogy. He talked about what a good cook Betty was, and she really was a great cook. Once he asked her, “Aunt Betty, why does everything taste better at your house?” She paused for a moment and said, “Because I cook with love.” She wasn’t kidding. He went on to talk about the other ways Betty infused what she did with love. I watched the family as he talked. I saw lots of heads nodding and smiling. It rang true with me, too. I had known Betty Wilder since I was seventeen.

At the conclusion of his message, Rev. Kilgore challenged us. He said, “All of you are here because you have been touched by Betty’s love.” “I challenge you today to pass that on.” “Don’t keep that to yourself, take the love you received from Betty and pass it on.”

Love. It is a good legacy to pass along. Besides, I couldn’t cook like her, even if I tried.

Blessings to you all,

Jerald

Glimmers
June 3, 2009


Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. (I John 4: 7-8, NIV)

My grandson, Evan Joshua Conti, laughs in his sleep. I mentioned this to Eileen, our lactation consultant here at Parrish Medical Center and she said, “He must be a happy baby.” That he is. At a little over one month old, he has had the blessed good fortune of being born to two loving parents and is reaping a legacy of love from their two extended families.

Huey Lewis and the News recorded a song, “The Power of Love,” that begins like this;

The power of love is a curious thing,
Make a one man weep, make another man sing.
Change a heart to a little white dove,
More than a feeling, that’s the power of love

Evan already responds to love. Because of love, his brain is making all kinds of connections that will enable him to love and be loved. But even more fundamental than that, these connections will enable him to be fully human.

Yesterday, I heard a counselor talk about the research being done on attachment disorders. Attachment disorders occur when babies don’t experience love consistently during their first three years of life. It doesn’t just affect their ability to love. It can affect the ability to process information, the ability to understand language, the ability to comfort and soothe one’s self, the ability to control impulses and the ability to make appropriate connections with others. Love really is powerful stuff.

Don’t need money, don’t take fame
Don’t need no credit card to ride this train
It’s strong and its sudden and it’s cruel sometimes
But it might just save your life
That’s the power of love.

It can even make you laugh in your sleep.

Blessings to you all,

Jerald

Don't forget the love

Glimmers,

March 5, 2009

My Uncle, Ike Smith of Chattanooga, TN, is in his mid 80s now. From the time my father died in 1968 till now, he has been my link to my father. I learned what I know of my father’s early life from him. I would never have known about my father’s crazy motorcycle wreck on that dark, South Georgia dirt road were it not for him, or how crazy in love my parents were in the early days of their marriage.

Uncle Ike is a retired elementary school principal. His wife, Alice, died almost two years ago. Uncle Ike has been in church his whole life. He has held just about every position one could hold in a local church, except Pastor. I spoke to him by phone yesterday. He asked about the family, “How are those girls?” “And your son-in-law, is he in Iraq or is he home?” I assured him all is well, that Chris is back home and I updated him about the upcoming wedding of my youngest and the baby on the way for my oldest.

He talked about his health. He said he is doing well, getting out some, to the doctors and church mostly. The last time I saw him, he shuffled as he walked in a way that reminds me of the Tim Conway character I used to love to see on the Carol Burnett show. He said that he couldn’t keep up with things around the house like he used to, so he has just had to accept it and let some things go. For someone whose house always looked like a page out of Southern Living, it is no small feat.

But as he usually does, he left me with something thought provoking. He said someone asked him why he went to the City Church and not some other. He said, “I told them I don’t go because of the minister and I don’t go because of the music.” “I don’t go to hear him, necessarily, or to hear the choir.” “I go because they love me.” He continued to explain. “When I get there, they tell me how glad they are to see me. Those big ol’ men hug me and they help me to my seat.” “When they wrap me up in those arms, I feel just like a little child that is loved.” “I go there because they love me.”

I suspect that is why most people go where they do. When they come here, let’s not forget the love.

Blessings to you all,

Jerald