Blessing for an Anniversary

Now that I am retired, I am still busy, but not consecutively. I bounce from one “one-time” event to another–a funeral, a wedding or two, a concert here and there, and writing. That along with the avalanche of priorities for caring for two parents and family priorities. My joke is, “I do lots of things, but not two in a row.” My other is that now I mostly do “leavings, cleavings and (when I fill in for a preacher) relievings.”

Relationships abide past the end of work, and recently we were invited to celebrate a sixtieth anniversary of two dear friends in my former pastorate, Crawford and Marlene Taylor. I was their pastor for most the past twenty-nine years, and we gathered to have a party. We celebrated the marriages of their son and daughter, and welcomed their grandchildren together. Our new pastor, Dr. Eric Spivey, gave the opening prayer and blessing for the meal, and their children shared a hilarious parody of “Old Man River,” entitled “Old Married Couple.”

I was asked to bring a benediction. We have come to mean benediction as “marking the end” of something, but it is in fact a blessing as we go, continuing the “word” we have shared back into our going. Here is what I shared for these two wonderful friends.

Crawford and Marlene,

We have all come here to rejoice. The two of you have interwoven into our lives, else we would not be here, except for the free food, of course. But we have known generosity, and laughter and intensity of faith in you both. You are not the same, but as you have journeyed through life, you have created what only faithful determination to “do it together” can—abiding love, deeper understanding, laughter and tears. You are now long become fixed points of navigation to the people who sail along nearby. Thank you. So, I say today, as next year we have known one another thirty years, that friendship has no expiration date. It continues, even into death as memory. And so may I offer this blessing for marriage to you, from Irish author and priest, the late John Donohue, as long as you are privileged to dwell together.”    Dr. Gary Furr, on the occasion of your anniversary, August 28, 2022.

FOR MARRIAGE

As spring unfolds the dream of the earth,

May you bring each other’s hearts to birth.

As the ocean finds calm in view of land,

May you love the gaze of each other’s mind.

As the wind arises free and wild,

May nothing negative control your lives.

As kindly as moonlight might search the dark,

So gentle may you be when light grows scarce.

As surprised as the silence that music opens,

May your words for each other be touched with reverence.

As warmly as the air draws in the light,

May you welcome each other’s every gift.

As elegant as dream absorbing the night,

May sleep find you clear of anger and hurt.

As twilight harvests all the day’s color,

May love bring you home to each other.

O’Donohue, John. To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings

It occurs to me in this moment of insufferable and infantile tirades and resentments that we might need more parties, more rejoicing, more marking of times, and far more blessing. Rev. Myron Maddon famously wrote that we have “the power to bless.” The companion of that, naturally, is the power to curse. In a moment of constant accusations, blaming and vulgarity, wouldn’t a little more blessing be in order?

Reframing to Blessings

When I first began to preach as a pastor it was in small churches in Central Texas. They were mostly blue collar and working folks, farmers, retired people who had moved out from the city, an assortment of people who end up in a church together by virtue of geography.

As I was just beginning my ministry, I desperately read books about how to preach and how to be an administrator and how to do all of this and that. But I particularly remember one preaching book that encouraged me to try to turn my main point into a positive affirmation. This became central in my life, even if I didn’t always do it well.

Having trained academically, I had a disposition toward thorough analysis and preface. It meant that I could spend a long time, and in those early sermons I surely did on those poor people, explaining why it was I was going to tell them what I was going to tell them. That usually meant 8 or 10 reasons why the world was going to hell and why they needed the one good thing I was going to slip in right before the final hymn. Only later did I learn to move more consistently to the affirmations of the gospel. people don’t need nearly as much analysis as we are inclined to give.

I find that to be generally true, though, these days. If you look at the Twitter feeds of sports teams, you would believe that every coach is an absolute disaster every player incompetent and no team having any idea what they were doing. We are heavy on criticism and analysis and a little short on blessing. It is a difficult exercise to begin to turn your negativity into affirmation. It goes against the grain of so much of our brokenness.

I preached plenty of sermons that were heavier on analysis and what needs to be fixed. But the best ones were always the ones that moved to the extraordinary good news of hope and transformation. The latter were what Jesus brought to the world, as has every other great religious leader who has ever lived and for that matter the best people in our lives. They have the capacity to take something that can be cast in the negative and turn it into an fresh affirmation. There is a place, an important one, for analysis and criticism. We need to evaluate and reconsider. But one of the great failings of our time is the predominance of the negative. Too much is centered around what’s wrong with the other person or those people or this or that bogeyman created by our collective fears.

Dr Samuel Proctor was a wonderful African American preacher, educator, theologian and scholar. He honored me by contributing a chapter to a book that I helped edit once. He once said of a contemporary, “Well, his “whereases” are pretty good but his “therefores” are a little weak.” It’s the therefores that finally make the difference.

Dr. Samuel Proctor

You always remember when someone has forcefully taken familiar and empty concepts and words and recast what had seemed a dark and empty time into something surprisingly filled with hope. This is the genius of authentic leadership and authentic servanthood.

“Reframing” refers to taking something and recasting it so it can be seen afresh. In pastoral conversations, it can convey great power to respond to some statement of despair with, “Of course, another way to look at this…” and to see a light go on in the eyes. Blessing has great power. It is not denial, and it is not romanticized optimism. Blessing comes from Truth. It is an ultimate statement of “the way it is,” beyond our filters and negative predispositions.

Someone once said to me, “It can help to begin to use new words, to state things differently, when we are trying to change.” So, this might be a powerful spiritual practice. Take your dread, fear or hopeless assumption and begin to speak of it anew. Invite a larger perspective, one that allows for blessing, not curses, to be the final word for you.

A Prayer for Simplicity

Invocation and blessing offered at the October 8, 2019 meeting of the Vestavia Hills Chamber of Commerce by Dr. Gary Furr, Pastor, Vestavia Hills Baptist Church. 

God Almighty,

The complexity of these times overwhelm us–

too much information, too many problems,

too much acrimony and division,

too many words spoken thoughtlessly.

 

Grant us true simplicity

to see ourselves truthfully

to give our hearts freely

to see others lovingly

to make our decisions faithfully

to speak our words with clarity

and honesty and purpose.

Continue reading A Prayer for Simplicity

“The Man I Didn’t Kill” and Paying Attention

In 2008 I wrote a song called “The Man I Didn’t Kill.”  The story of the song is pretty simple in a way.  I get song ideas all the time just from observations of life.  I never mind a drive to the hospital or the million other tasks I have to do in my work as a minister.  It is an ocean of songwriting material, because it’s simply life experience.  I really admire the great songwriters who live in Nashville, sit in an office all day and crank out lyrics.  I’m not sure I’m that imaginative.

Gary Nancy Greg

My ideas come from life.  I walk through, listening to people in trouble, solving problems, managing a congregation, dealing with budgets, praying for the sick.  All along, though, the artist in my brain tries to pay attention.  I’m not looking for songs, but I’m paying attention for things that interest me. Kate Campbell talked a lot about being curious—noting things you care about and trying to understand why.

So songs, or at least ideas, pop up everywhere.  Back about 2008 or 2009, I wrote a song that ended up on my cd “Overload of Bad News Blues.”  It’s called, “The Man I Didn’t Kill.”  It came from a close call.  One day a pedestrian walked out in front of me without looking.  I was watching him, so I hit the breaks and, for the first time, he saw me.  Small bit of life. Continue reading “The Man I Didn’t Kill” and Paying Attention