Finishing the Master's Work
Dear friends,
This week I am writing to you from a much different place than last week. Actually, I am sitting at the same desk in front of the same computer and dictating this message into the same microphone. The different "place" has to do, rather, with my emotions and physical well-being. Last week it was dark and cold and I had lost my ability to walk because of a fall a few days earlier -- I had been to the doctor and lined up an MRI for the next week. A few more "unknowns" had been added to my regular "unknowns," which have been more than enough for me to handle.
This week is quite different. I am in my usual place in my study at the same desk in front of the same computer and dictating this message into the same microphone. My true "place" has changed in several remarkable ways. It is a sunny Wednesday afternoon and the temperature is near 80°. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom right outside my study window, where I look as I work. I am now using a walker, but my left leg is becoming much more reliable. I will still have an MRI on Friday evening, but I am feeling really good about it. I have lined up six weeks of physical therapy -- in Cartersville! This is especially good news. Finally, on Tuesday I visited the Shepherd Center and got some medications adjusted. I will come back to the Shepherd Center a little later.
Easter Sunday was just wonderful! Carole and I worshiped with the Chickamauga congregation, and I was the preacher. The sermon subject was, "If I Should Wake Before I Die." The church was full and the music was wonderful. As one might expect, the Easter service was the best one of the whole year. I am sure that each of us has had a similar experience. Easter is the day when Christians can sing, dance and laugh out loud in the cemetery. It is a jolly occasion to be sure -- and the joke is on death!
After Easter, every time we must walk away from the grave of a loved one, we do so with a small degree of sadness, but with a larger degree of joy. We know deep within our hearts that death has no power over us or over those we love. I have no interest in adding yet another opinion regarding the Terri Schiavo case, although I could since I know as much about it as anyone. This is an incredibly complex and difficult situation. However, in my judgment there is one thing notably missing, and this is especially sad given that Easter came in the middle of it. What is missing is any kind of hope beyond the grave -- either for the patient or for her loved ones. Having said this, it may actually be there but simply has not made it to my television screen. After all, Hope (notice the capital "H") doesn't work very well when "reality" is portrayed as inherently adversarial.
I want to offer a strong word of exhortation, and that is that we Presbyterian-type Christians in Northwest Georgia stop talking about the Sundays after Easter. More correctly, our liturgical calendar says that we celebrate not just one but seven Sundays of Easter. The first thing we need to do is get the word out to the Christmas/Easter folks. On the sweeter side, it could also mean a boon in the sale of chocolate Easter eggs, crosses, bunnies, and other such delight. More importantly, it means that we should sing more joyfully, preached more exuberantly, and give more generously then at any other time of the year.
I know that this Sunday is bound to be a letdown in most of our churches. Even pastors referred to it as "low Sunday." I know that most church people are resistant to change, but this is one worth fighting for. Easter is a season, not just a day.
Many of you know me as an incurable opera fan. I love the singing and the scenery, and even the plots. I love everything about the opera including the stories behind them. There is a wonderful story about Giacomo Puccini and what happened when he died. (from Opera Anecdotes by Ethan Moddern)
It was during his battle with cancer in 1922 that he began to write Turandot, which many now consider his best opera. He worked on the score day and night, despite his friends' advice to rest and to save his energy.
When his sickness worsened, Puccini said to his students, "If I don't finish Turandot, I want you to finish it." He died in 1924, leaving the work unfinished. His students gathered all that was written of the opera, studied it in great detail, and then proceeded to write the remainder of the opera.
The world premier was performed in the La Scala Opera House in Milan in 1926, conducted by Toscanini, Puccini's favorite student. The opera went beautifully until Toscanini came to the end of the part written by Puccini. He stopped the music, put down the baton, turned to the audience, and announced, "Thus far the master wrote, until he died."
There was a long pause; no one moved. Then the great conductor picked up his baton, turned to the audience, and, with tears in his eyes, announced, "But his disciples finished his work." The opera closed to thunderous applause, and to a permanent place in the annals of great musical compositions.
There you have it -- the Easter season is when Jesus' disciples prepare themselves to finish the Master's work. (Those of us who are all so golf lovers should not confuse this with the golfing event of the same name.) As we carry out the work, however, we do so with faces that are brighter, steps that are lighter, and joy that is absolutely and incurably contagious.
This brings me back to the Shepherd Center. Carole and I went so that I could see a Nurse Practitioner about some medicine needs. As we drove down we talked about our friends, staff and patients alike. When we do this we always mention Lance, a 24-year-old man from Florida who had a similar injury to mine. Carole and I agreed that we would love to see Lance and his mother again.
As we entered the outpatient registration area, we ran into Cathy, my physical therapist when I was in the Day Program. She left the Shepherd Center sometime during the fall to have her first child and six weeks of maternity leave. Cathy had definitely been delivered and looked fantastic. After we hugged, we both looked at each other and each of us said over and over, "Look at you -- you look terrific!" Part of the reason I looked so terrific was that I was walking under my own power, with a little help from the walker. In fact I walked all over the place!
As we entered the outpatient treatment area and as I moved toward the scales, I saw Diana, another one of my physical therapists. The first time I saw Diana was my first full weekend at the Shepherd Center. This was all the way back to the first week of May 2004. I can tell you I looked 1,000,000,000% better than I did during that first visit. Once again, we hugged and told each other how great we looked. It was unbearable to anyone watching!
Within 2-3 minutes we ran into Dr. Leslie, the physician who took care of me at the very beginning of my time at Shepherd. Our greeting was a little more formal with a firm handshake and some meaningful arm slapping, but the spirit of the conversation was the same. There was great surprise, great warmth, and great joy that radiated both between us and from us to all who saw us.
After my medical examination, we went downstairs to the Standing Treadmill Trainer where I spent so many hours, learning how to walk again. When I entered I saw Doug, Leslie, Maggie, and several folks I did not know. As expected, they greeted me warmly and there were hugs all around. Shortly after entering the room, one of them said that another visitor had just been in and was asking about me. Of course, I was delighted to hear that and wondered who it might be.
After a few minutes the door opened and in walked -- you might have guessed -- Lance! We were stunned beyond words -- but we all began talking almost immediately. It was a miracle! I should mention that when Lance came in he was walking with just one cane. The last time I saw Lance I was walking a little and he was still wheelchair-bound. After our visit we all went upstairs and found Lance's mother. After some picture-taking and more hugging we got in the car and drove home.
Sisters and brothers, this is what Easter is all about. It is about the days following the Resurrection when everything is bright and hopeful. Easter is about new life and new opportunities for ministry. Easter is about seeing your friends and colleagues with glowing faces; and their glowing faces seeing the glow on your face. Easter is a time when some of us are still paralyzed in-part, but are loose, flexible and very strong in spirit. Easter is a time when the Church should forget about it conflicts because the Joy is so great that we just want to grab our adversary and dance until we both dropped to the floor! To be bitter and angry during Easter is just unthinkable!
May the risen Christ brighten your way,
Jim
This week I am writing to you from a much different place than last week. Actually, I am sitting at the same desk in front of the same computer and dictating this message into the same microphone. The different "place" has to do, rather, with my emotions and physical well-being. Last week it was dark and cold and I had lost my ability to walk because of a fall a few days earlier -- I had been to the doctor and lined up an MRI for the next week. A few more "unknowns" had been added to my regular "unknowns," which have been more than enough for me to handle.
This week is quite different. I am in my usual place in my study at the same desk in front of the same computer and dictating this message into the same microphone. My true "place" has changed in several remarkable ways. It is a sunny Wednesday afternoon and the temperature is near 80°. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom right outside my study window, where I look as I work. I am now using a walker, but my left leg is becoming much more reliable. I will still have an MRI on Friday evening, but I am feeling really good about it. I have lined up six weeks of physical therapy -- in Cartersville! This is especially good news. Finally, on Tuesday I visited the Shepherd Center and got some medications adjusted. I will come back to the Shepherd Center a little later.
Easter Sunday was just wonderful! Carole and I worshiped with the Chickamauga congregation, and I was the preacher. The sermon subject was, "If I Should Wake Before I Die." The church was full and the music was wonderful. As one might expect, the Easter service was the best one of the whole year. I am sure that each of us has had a similar experience. Easter is the day when Christians can sing, dance and laugh out loud in the cemetery. It is a jolly occasion to be sure -- and the joke is on death!
After Easter, every time we must walk away from the grave of a loved one, we do so with a small degree of sadness, but with a larger degree of joy. We know deep within our hearts that death has no power over us or over those we love. I have no interest in adding yet another opinion regarding the Terri Schiavo case, although I could since I know as much about it as anyone. This is an incredibly complex and difficult situation. However, in my judgment there is one thing notably missing, and this is especially sad given that Easter came in the middle of it. What is missing is any kind of hope beyond the grave -- either for the patient or for her loved ones. Having said this, it may actually be there but simply has not made it to my television screen. After all, Hope (notice the capital "H") doesn't work very well when "reality" is portrayed as inherently adversarial.
I want to offer a strong word of exhortation, and that is that we Presbyterian-type Christians in Northwest Georgia stop talking about the Sundays after Easter. More correctly, our liturgical calendar says that we celebrate not just one but seven Sundays of Easter. The first thing we need to do is get the word out to the Christmas/Easter folks. On the sweeter side, it could also mean a boon in the sale of chocolate Easter eggs, crosses, bunnies, and other such delight. More importantly, it means that we should sing more joyfully, preached more exuberantly, and give more generously then at any other time of the year.
I know that this Sunday is bound to be a letdown in most of our churches. Even pastors referred to it as "low Sunday." I know that most church people are resistant to change, but this is one worth fighting for. Easter is a season, not just a day.
Many of you know me as an incurable opera fan. I love the singing and the scenery, and even the plots. I love everything about the opera including the stories behind them. There is a wonderful story about Giacomo Puccini and what happened when he died. (from Opera Anecdotes by Ethan Moddern)
It was during his battle with cancer in 1922 that he began to write Turandot, which many now consider his best opera. He worked on the score day and night, despite his friends' advice to rest and to save his energy.
When his sickness worsened, Puccini said to his students, "If I don't finish Turandot, I want you to finish it." He died in 1924, leaving the work unfinished. His students gathered all that was written of the opera, studied it in great detail, and then proceeded to write the remainder of the opera.
The world premier was performed in the La Scala Opera House in Milan in 1926, conducted by Toscanini, Puccini's favorite student. The opera went beautifully until Toscanini came to the end of the part written by Puccini. He stopped the music, put down the baton, turned to the audience, and announced, "Thus far the master wrote, until he died."
There was a long pause; no one moved. Then the great conductor picked up his baton, turned to the audience, and, with tears in his eyes, announced, "But his disciples finished his work." The opera closed to thunderous applause, and to a permanent place in the annals of great musical compositions.
There you have it -- the Easter season is when Jesus' disciples prepare themselves to finish the Master's work. (Those of us who are all so golf lovers should not confuse this with the golfing event of the same name.) As we carry out the work, however, we do so with faces that are brighter, steps that are lighter, and joy that is absolutely and incurably contagious.
This brings me back to the Shepherd Center. Carole and I went so that I could see a Nurse Practitioner about some medicine needs. As we drove down we talked about our friends, staff and patients alike. When we do this we always mention Lance, a 24-year-old man from Florida who had a similar injury to mine. Carole and I agreed that we would love to see Lance and his mother again.
As we entered the outpatient registration area, we ran into Cathy, my physical therapist when I was in the Day Program. She left the Shepherd Center sometime during the fall to have her first child and six weeks of maternity leave. Cathy had definitely been delivered and looked fantastic. After we hugged, we both looked at each other and each of us said over and over, "Look at you -- you look terrific!" Part of the reason I looked so terrific was that I was walking under my own power, with a little help from the walker. In fact I walked all over the place!
As we entered the outpatient treatment area and as I moved toward the scales, I saw Diana, another one of my physical therapists. The first time I saw Diana was my first full weekend at the Shepherd Center. This was all the way back to the first week of May 2004. I can tell you I looked 1,000,000,000% better than I did during that first visit. Once again, we hugged and told each other how great we looked. It was unbearable to anyone watching!
Within 2-3 minutes we ran into Dr. Leslie, the physician who took care of me at the very beginning of my time at Shepherd. Our greeting was a little more formal with a firm handshake and some meaningful arm slapping, but the spirit of the conversation was the same. There was great surprise, great warmth, and great joy that radiated both between us and from us to all who saw us.
After my medical examination, we went downstairs to the Standing Treadmill Trainer where I spent so many hours, learning how to walk again. When I entered I saw Doug, Leslie, Maggie, and several folks I did not know. As expected, they greeted me warmly and there were hugs all around. Shortly after entering the room, one of them said that another visitor had just been in and was asking about me. Of course, I was delighted to hear that and wondered who it might be.
After a few minutes the door opened and in walked -- you might have guessed -- Lance! We were stunned beyond words -- but we all began talking almost immediately. It was a miracle! I should mention that when Lance came in he was walking with just one cane. The last time I saw Lance I was walking a little and he was still wheelchair-bound. After our visit we all went upstairs and found Lance's mother. After some picture-taking and more hugging we got in the car and drove home.
Sisters and brothers, this is what Easter is all about. It is about the days following the Resurrection when everything is bright and hopeful. Easter is about new life and new opportunities for ministry. Easter is about seeing your friends and colleagues with glowing faces; and their glowing faces seeing the glow on your face. Easter is a time when some of us are still paralyzed in-part, but are loose, flexible and very strong in spirit. Easter is a time when the Church should forget about it conflicts because the Joy is so great that we just want to grab our adversary and dance until we both dropped to the floor! To be bitter and angry during Easter is just unthinkable!
May the risen Christ brighten your way,
Jim
posted by Pierce | 8:00 AM
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