There is a Circle in Tennessee

There is a circle of trees in Tennessee
Of antique oaks and sugar maples
Where the furrowed fields roll round about them
And the sun and moon do pace their measure
And the circle is perfect
And the circle is true
As a golden wedding band
When first placed on its finger
Once we saints sat in lawn chairs
And recited ancient stories
That passed us from heat of day
To the cool of evensong
Beneath the perches of the quail
As they conversed among the branches
And all my family were there
Grandfather, uncle, greataunt and father
Preserved in their places
And I was swinging from a tire
Suspended from the obliging arm
Caught up in the eternal oak
All in a circle
All as one
All together
Forever caught in the honey amber
Stitched in the tapestry of the circle of trees.

To the Session of First Presbyterian Church of Griffin

Tonight as I lay in my bed before turning out the lights for sleep, I finished a book over which I have been laboring for a number of weeks. The book is a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the great German pastor who was executed in the last days of World War II. After the war in Europe was over and it became clear to his family and friends that he had not survived his imprisonment by the Nazis, an English clergyman and friend held a memorial service in London for him and all those who had died in Europe opposing Hitler and the Nazis. In the book I was reading, the author quoted the memorial sermon of the pastor, which was based on a quote from 2 Chronicles
20:12, "Neither know we what to do, but our eyes are upon Thee." At the end of the sermon, the pastor referenced the familiar lines from the Apostles' Creed as follows:

Yet our eyes are upon Thee. We believe in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting....."

As I read these words, it occurred to me that God was sending a message through this sermon delivered sixty six years ago. The phrase 'communion of the saints' lept out to me from the page. In these times of strife and economic hardship, we are particularly called to the communion of saints. I am no theologian or Bible student. I do understand that the communion of saints refers more to our ultimate reunion with those who went before, but tonight I read that phrase in a broader mode as I considered how I fit into the communion of saints in Heaven as well as on earth today.

Two years ago this past July, my father passed away in Dunwoody. As we prepared for the memorial service at Mount Vernon Presbyterian Church in Sandy Springs, I was thinking more of my family traveling up from Florida and down from Tennessee and the members of the church and community who were friends with my parents or knew me from my time as a boy growing up in Dunwoody and in Sunday School. As the afternoon of the memorial service arrived, I was gratefully surprised to see members of our church family in Griffin coming up the walk to the narthex of the church, sitting in the pews I grew up in and sharing words of comfort and consolation with me at the reception.

I perhaps felt no greater connection to this communion of saints since Kate was baptized and later confirmed. I will always be grateful to those couples who came up from Griffin to support me and the rest of my family. It was a moment of touching communion with my brothers and sisters and an outpouring of their love.
When I think of 'the communion of saints' it is hard to break free of my memory of that afternoon gathering in Sandy Springs.

But now I fear we as a congregation are suffering from a weakness in the communion of the saints. For some time now, we have suffered from a feeling of the loss of connection with our friends here. The first time occurred when Cindy developed pneumonia and was missing from church for several months. No one called. No one asked me where she was when I was in church. People who we had been very close with throughout the years were absent.

Today, so many of my friends are now going to other churches. I don't see any great effort to reach out to them. There seems to be a lack of effort to preserve our sense of communion. I confess that I, like many of us, share responsibility for this break in the fabric of our communion. We all must consider how we can reach out to others in our community. I think if we are to preserve the mission of this church, we must pray and work to strengthen the communion of the saints. I understand that there are many reasons why people leave the church. I understand that Americans are culturally individualistic by nature.

But when we speak the creed, we state that we believe in the communion of the saints. The passage from 2 Chronicles instructs us to look to Jesus. In one of his parables, Jesus told his disciples that the shepherd would leave his flock to ensure the safety of the lost lamb. Are we not called to search for the lost lambs of our congregation? This church has been a shining light in this community and the world. God calls us to see after the lost lambs wherever they might be. We must make an effort to preserve the communion of the saints as we acknowledge in our creed. Amen

Word from the front

One more week and maybe I get this damned cast off my left arm. The pain and weakness is gone from my left ankle; I know not how. At least I could get free of these impediments and do something other than sitting on the couch, watching television. I have made it clear that when this blue cast comes off, I get a grilled hot dog, a cold beer and a swim in a pool. I hope this happens before the end of summer. Football season has already started. It's getting on there. I haven't been writing regularly. Using this I-phone is difficult. Convenient, but more difficult.

Dreary Summer Afternoon

The sky is a dark-blue grey color and the limbs on the trees are pitching back and forth. We are supposed to have a chance for rain today. It has looked ominous at several times this afternoon, but never as much as right now. I would like some rain this afternoon for the plants and the grass. Rain, rain, rain.

I have an appointment for this afternoon in a few minutes and I am supposed to travel up to Stockbridge for a closing for seven. It seems as if everyone is wondering if this closing will happen. I have the documents. I have spoken with the borrower twice. I am constantly getting calls. Everyone wants to know whether or not this thing is going off. How important is this closing?

I have received several calls for appointments for closings for this week today. One for Columbus, now cancelled. One for Warner Robins, now cancelled. One for Peachtree City, who knows? I am beginning to wonder.

I just want a little more rain.

Mortality

I spent all morning in the jury box of the Monroe County Justice Center watching the calendar call of criminal cases. Most of the calendar call was fairly light in tone. No one went to jail. The only change in tone occured when one of the accused fell asleep in the courtroom and elicited the irritation of the judge who sent the sleepy denizen to the back of the courtroom to be tested for drugs or alcohol. Later, he came back, rather sheepishly, and a deputy sheriff handed a piece of paper to the clerk, who handed same to the judge, who told the accused not to fall asleep in his courtroom. Meanwhile, the assistant d. a. I was here to speak with had to leave the courtroom I guess because of recent health problems. The whole drama left me with a sense of my own mortality. There, but for the grace of God, go we.

Thursday Heat

Thursday night. June 2nd. Hot as the gates of Hell. Ticks climbing on all of us. Fleas . I don't want to talk about it. This has been a very unsatisfactory end of the day. Too little to do; I picked up Cindy and went home and never went back today. Very unsatisfactory. Very hot and dry. Heat shimmers and dust.

June 1 Summer, with a stone on my chest

It is again quite warm this morning. I took the trash to the curb and realized that this is a holiday short week where they ordinarily adjust the pickup days so that trash pickups occur one day later. If that is the case, then pickup will happen on Thursday. Meanwhile, it is going to be in the middle to high 90's today and tomorrow. I get to run the sprinkler at lunch. Yay! Matt and Al are in Rome today. La-di-da. I am not trying to critique Catholicism. It is just not on my radar this morning. I have more concern for getting to the office on time.

I am on a Samuel Taylor Coleridge jag right now. He is definitely one of my favorites, although I do like all of the Romantic Poets: Blake, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, Keats, Byron. All great. That was my first favorite class in college. Well, the heat lasted through the evening. I picked Cindy up at SCTC and the thermometer in her car read 103. That is hot for Georgia on the first day of June. The portents are ill in early June/late Spring. We haven't even had the Belmont and the end of professional hockey yet. That is silly.